The reporters at the scene were stunned by the explosive revelation and quickly bombarded him with questions, eager for more information. However, Auston smiled without answering, refusing all further inquiries. Surrounded by his guards, he left the scene, leaving the journalists with endless speculation.
In the minds of everyone present, the words Auston had just dropped were flashing like lightning. Though brief—only about forty words—they contained a terrifying amount of information.
—The attacker’s last name is Bromfield.
—He is an officer in the capital’s military.
—He is the nephew of Prime Minister Gustav.
My God!!!
The reporters at the scene, ever so sharp, quickly sensed the political implications of the revelation, and various sensational headlines began to swirl in their minds. Some were quick to react and made a beeline for their headquarters, knowing they needed to consult with their editors and get the story to press as soon as possible. Whichever media outlet could seize the headline first would have the scoop. Once the first reporter was off, the second and third followed in swift succession. The reporters, gathered in a tight huddle around General Dalton, were like ants in a panic, rushing to secure the best position to gather information. As they ran, they were already contacting their headquarters via their personal terminals, sending the first-hand information they had gathered to be quickly published.
Hurry! Hurry!! Hurry!!!
The opportunity to make a name for oneself in history, to rise to the top, was right in front of them.
Some reporters rushed to cover the political angle, while others focused on entertainment.
Wasn’t the news of the general’s marriage explosive enough?
Wasn’t the fact that the general’s spouse was skilled in martial arts eye-catching?
The general had children—how old were they? Were they male or female? Was their genetic sequence X or Y? Didn’t everyone want to know?
There were so many hot topics to dig into—why stick to the political maneuverings between powerful families or the assassination attempts targeting specific individuals? Some reporters strolled casually, unfazed, not chasing political scandals but instead taking a different approach, determined to make their name shine in the headlines. After all, the majority of the public preferred entertainment gossip, right?
Indeed, the online world was in a frenzy. The news of General Dalton’s secret marriage and children became the center of national attention. Compared to that bombshell, all the other gossip about secret marriages, children, false unmarried personas, and emotional manipulation of fans seemed insignificant.
In a third-floor office of the MM&CC Entertainment Company in Eve City, Capital Star, a slender figure stood by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The sweet and innocent-looking female singer breathed a sigh of relief as she scanned the dozens of trending hot topics on social media. Not a single one mentioned her—what a relief!
“Recently, I’ve been chased by fans accusing me of deceiving them, digging into all my private details. I can’t even sleep well, my hairline is receding,” she said, her voice as sweet and pleasant as a nightingale, soothing to anyone who heard it.
Beside Sweetie pie, there was a black, soft leather sofa. The person sitting on it, his brows furrowed as he refreshed various pieces of information on his device, spoke in a deep tone: “Go post the news about your marriage on your social media.”
“What?!” The Sweetie pie’s voice rose in surprise.
“Twenty minutes after, post a photo of you and your husband’s wedding picture. Blur his face a little, don’t make it too clear—leave some room for people to dig deeper,” he said calmly.
“You’re crazy?!” The Sweetie pie walked over to the man, looking at the well-known writer and owner of MM&CC. She disapproved as she said, “The company has put so much effort into suppressing news about my marriage. Why would you want to expose it, especially now? I don’t approve. I don’t want my life to be publicized.”
Connor leaned back on the sofa, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not asking for your opinion; I’m informing you. I’ll have your manager send you the prepared content, and you’ll post it yourself. After you post the wedding photo, we’ll see how things unfold. If necessary, you’ll post photos of you and your child.”
“No, no, no!!!” Sweetie pie grabbed her hair, feeling like she was about to go insane from the man’s antics. “You have to tell me why!!!”
Connor smiled and said, “To divert the public’s attention. Since we were once friends, I’ll tell you the reason. The person who married General Dalton is my cousin. Do you get it now?”
“Damn, you’re sacrificing me to ease the pressure on your cousin.”
“Of course,” Connor replied nonchalantly. “You breached the contract. Because of you, the company’s market value has dropped by 2 billion star coins in one week.” Connor had used the money he earned from the Red Mill to start the entertainment company, initially with no serious intentions. He thought it might be useful for managing public opinion later, but to his surprise, the company started making money, especially with stars like Sweetie Pie. His wealth had been growing exponentially, to the point that he no longer dared to mention the numbers to his family. “For all that money, you signed a binding contract with me. For the next twenty years, you’re not your own person, you belong to me. According to the contract, if the company asks you to do something during the term, you can’t refuse. If you do, you won’t be able to afford the penalty fee. So, what do you think? Will you do it?”
Sweetie Pie gritted her teeth and said through clenched jaws, “Fine, let it be exposed. Anyway, the money spent to suppress the news wasn’t mine.” She glared at Connor, wishing she could tear a piece of flesh off him. Letting out a forceful huff, she added, “You’re heartless, we were friends after all.”
Connor’s gaze turned cold, his voice sharp, “You tried to use me, a friend?”
Sweetie Pie stiffened. She knew she was at fault, and her posture softened as she clasped her hands together in a mock prayer, “I’m sorry, I was too hasty back then, desperate to make things work and thought of using you for publicity.”
Connor stood up, walking to the window, his eyes scanning the city below. “Go do it now. Your agent is waiting outside.” Sweetie Pie’s attempt to drag him into the publicity game had made things uneasy with Fan Lanting, prompting him to come up with several reckless ideas to push things forward. Thinking about how that person would look after sobering up the next day, Connor couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement. He was probably at the review camp now. The harsh words he’d said to him that day had probably ended any future contact.
Today was undoubtedly a day of full-scale celebration. First, there was the incredible battle scene at the assassination site between General Dalton and his partner. Then, the general himself openly admitted to being married with children. Following that, the previously adamant Sweetie Pie, who had refused to acknowledge her marriage and children, posted a picture of her and her husband’s backs on social media with the caption “Our Happy Life.” Soon after, well-known author Connor posted that The Song of Beacon would soon be concluding… The gossiping masses were busy, first admiring the dynamic battle footage of the general and his spouse—“So handsome!”—then heading to the general’s rarely updated social media to be a little salty—“Why isn’t it me marrying the general?” “Who is the one who married him? They must not be great.” “Hmph, I don’t acknowledge this marriage!” Then they’d head over to Sweetie Pie’s page to comment—“It’s not scary to be married and have children, what’s scary is denying it to the end.” “Just admit it already! As long as there is good work, I’ll continue supporting you.” Finally, they’d rush over to Connor’s page, posting pitiful emoji to beg the writer to spare them and ensure a perfect ending to The Song of Beacon, pleading for Qin Feng Anderson the Great to not die, please.
There were still no speculations about the assassination’s true story circulating on the StarNet. No one knew that the attacker was from the Bromfield family, or that he was the nephew of Prime Minister Gustav. It wasn’t because some powerful hand had suppressed the information—rather, the media was busy brewing something even bigger. Just over seven hundred years ago, Emperor Qin Feng Anderson had set an example. In the Empire, public discourse was free. Media was not controlled by any family, and under the constraints of the law, it developed freely. They dared to say anything, ask anything. Sometimes, certain media outlets would question the actions of the government in their editorial pieces, and the sharp questions they posed would make those in government positions uneasy.
The storm on StarNet had no effect on Ryan and Auston; the two of them, at the center of the storm, were far calmer than anyone in the Empire. Well, it wouldn’t be accurate to say they were completely unaffected—General Dalton certainly wasn’t calm. He frowned deeply as he looked at Ryan’s wound. It was about twenty centimeters long, the deepest part about five centimeters, exposing the white, jagged bone. This grotesque injury was hidden beneath Ryan’s black clothing, and with his deliberate attempts to conceal it, Auston had only now seen the full extent of the damage. He couldn’t help but curse his own rationality. If it weren’t for his control, he would have rushed out to make the attacker pay!
“Stop frowning,” Ryan said, reaching out to smooth the furrowed line between Auston’s brows. “Frowning makes you look bad.”
“You’re not participating in the parade,” Auston’s voice was cold, and he turned his head to avoid Ryan’s touch. “Get your wound treated, then stay at home and rest. I don’t want you going anywhere.”
Ryan pretended to wince in pain, letting out a soft hiss.
“What’s wrong?” Auston, who had turned away, quickly looked back, his voice tight with concern. “Does it hurt a lot?” His gaze moved to the doctor, who immediately felt a nervous flutter in his chest under the intensity of Auston’s stare. The doctor quickly began mentally reviewing every step of the procedure, wondering if he had missed anything. Auston looked away, no longer wanting to argue with Ryan (it was strange—who would have thought the day would come when the phrase “arguing” could apply to him?). He took Ryan’s uninjured hand, his grip gentle but firm, and spoke softly, “If you feel any discomfort, just tell me. Don’t hold it in just because I’m here.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just a small cut. After the anesthetic, I can’t feel anything in this arm,” Ryan lied, trying to reassure Auston. The truth was, the doctor had used dissolvable biological sutures and a layered pressure stitching method, carefully stitching one layer after another. There were many stitches, but this would ensure a faster recovery. The only downside to this method was that too much anesthetic couldn’t be used—it was essential to maintain some sensory awareness of the muscles to ensure the stitching would be perfect.
Auston glanced at the wound, which had already been stitched up a third of the way, and he knew Ryan was lying. With the doctor, nurse, and several guards around them, Auston couldn’t hold back his growing panic anymore. He shifted slightly and leaned into Ryan, resting his face against Ryan’s shoulder. His body trembled slightly, and for the first time since hearing about the attack, about Ryan’s near-death experience, he felt as if he were finally emerging from the depths of despair.
The two of them didn’t speak, silently leaning on each other.
Ryan gave the doctor a silent signal to pause, and once his body had some freedom, he did nothing but turn his head and press a soft kiss to the top of Auston’s head. It was a gentle kiss, as light as a feather, but it brought immense comfort to both Auston and Ryan… In that moment, it felt like life had never been so beautiful. They had always lived on the edge of life and death, unafraid, thinking that was the way to live without worries. But now, with each other and a child, they understood—true warriors must have something to care for. Only when they knew what it was to live, could they fight for something greater.
The tender moment, however, was interrupted. Ryan’s soft gaze fixed on someone—the nurse, standing two meters away, trying to act as if everything were normal. But under Ryan’s intense stare, she gradually grew uneasy. She tried to discreetly press her hand on her personal terminal, but with Ryan still watching, she hesitantly released it. Then, with a forced breath, she opened the terminal and quickly deleted all the photos she had taken. Only when his gaze finally left her did she feel a small sense of relief. But before she could gather her thoughts, the security personnel stepped in and escorted her out.
Inside, Ryan continued with the stitches. Their hands remained tightly intertwined, never letting go.
During the stitching, several video call requests came through—his parents, other family members, friends… Ryan didn’t answer any of them. He knew that if they saw the injury, they would undoubtedly worry. As the stitching was nearing completion, a second video call request from Master McAryan arrived. Ryan glanced at the injury, seeing that it was almost done, and decided to answer. Before he even had the chance to greet him, McAryan’s eyes widened in shock, and he angrily shouted, “How big is the wound?”
This wasn’t a peer-to-peer academic discussion anymore. Seeing Ryan injured, especially on his most valuable arm, McAryan, much older than Ryan, naturally assumed the protective role of an elder. Ryan replied, “It’s just a little, not long.”
“I know how you young people like to hide things, but your words don’t count. I saw the doctor packing up the tools, so it’s clearly stitched up. Show me the wound.”
Ryan knew that McAryan wouldn’t end the video call until he showed him, so he reluctantly turned to the side and revealed the injury. “It’s not that long.”
Seeing the now more gruesome-looking stitched-up wound, McAryan immediately frowned, his face filled with worry. “Those damn assassins!”
“It’s just a superficial wound; it hasn’t affected the function of my hand. I can still work with mechas,” Ryan reassured McAryan.
“Hmph, I know you can. Just make sure you let it heal properly. Alright, that’s enough. I have things to do, so I’ll hang up.”
“Goodbye.”
Ryan gave a helpless wink at Auston, who helped him change into fresh clothes. After sending out video calls to his parents, family, and friends, reassuring them that he was fine, Ryan noticed Auston’s reaction. He walked over and said, “Don’t pay attention to what’s being said online. As long as we’re okay, that’s all that matters.”
“No, look,” Auston said, pointing at McAryan’s update on his social media.
Ryan turned to see that McAryan had posted something new. “Looks like I’m about to become an official member of the Mecha Research Institute.”
“McAryan is a good person. Once you’re better, we should invite him over for a visit,” Auston said with a hint of traditional sentiment. “Becoming a master and disciple shouldn’t just be a formality. We’ll hold a formal apprenticeship banquet as a gesture of gratitude for his help at this critical moment.”
“Mm.” Auston nodded, understanding that gratitude was important. However, Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m afraid he won’t let me call him ‘Master.’” His accomplishments in mechas far surpassed McAryan’s, especially after overcoming the challenge of synchronizing with the neural core of beast-type mechas. McAryan had directly acknowledged this. Sure enough, not long after, Ryan received a message from McAryan: “With your abilities, you could easily be my master. But to make it believable, you’ll have to be my disciple for now, haha. You’re my closed-door disciple from now on. Let’s learn from each other and improve together.”
At that moment, Ryan, on his way home, smiled and shook his head. He sent a message to McAryan: “Master, please take care of me.”
Half an hour passed, and the online commotion showed no signs of settling. On the contrary, it grew louder and more intense, quickly spiraling into a nationwide celebration. More and more people joined the discussion, with everyone jumping into the frenzy. The personal information of Dalton General’s partner was soon exposed on the internet. Regardless of the era, Human flesh (searching)1a term used to describe the act of searching for and exposing personal information about individuals on the internet, often in an invasive or unethical way is very risky. However, for Ryan, the exposure of his own details was kept remarkably restrained, as if a powerful hand was silently filtering the information. Only those details beneficial to Ryan were allowed to surface.
This invisible hand had a complex composition, consisting of Auston’s personnel, Connor’s manipulated public opinion, and the joint forces of the AI entities, Yuan Chu and Code Zero. All the public discourse remained within a controllable state.
Now, everyone knows that General Auston Dalton’s partner is Ryan Smith, the son of an ordinary farmer and a minor second-generation wealthy individual. He was an excellent student, and the praise from his teachers, exposed online, is the best proof. In addition, his unfair treatment, being assigned to work in the kitchen, outraged many (Auston has already found and punished those who used their power to suppress Ryan by assigning him to the kitchen, but he quietly did all of this without telling Ryan, though Ryan knew in his heart).
Netizens saw that Ryan Smith, who spent ten years in the kitchen, never gave up on himself. He continued to train and improve himself, and as the saying goes, “gold always shines.” He gained recognition through his own abilities, and his career began to rise steadily. His story was truly inspirational.
But even with all of this, Ryan is just a relatively successful ordinary person, completely unworthy of General Auston Dalton.
So what if their genes are compatible? What does this picky man have to offer? Aside from being good-looking, hardworking, and academically outstanding, what else can he show for himself? Is it his family background, military rank, social status, wealth, or personal ability?
“Heh, he definitely can’t understand the general. I don’t care, I’m dissing Ryan.”
“A farmer’s son, oh my, when he was young, he probably rolled around in muddy pits.”
“I’m strongly against this marriage.”
“+1”
“+2”
“+ ID number”
“…”
“…”
“The people upstairs are acting like they’re so amazing. Have you seen the latest post from Master McAryan? They’re spouting nonsense here, it’s really disgusting.”
“Disgusting +1, I think Ryan is great, he has such a warm smile, he’s definitely going to bring warmth to the general. You can tell he’ll be a great partner.”
“I really want to know what the general’s child looks like, so excited.”
Master McAryan posted the following on his social account:
“I solemnly introduce my closed-door disciple, Ryan Smith, an exceptionally talented, dedicated, and capable young man. He was attacked, and I’m deeply heartbroken. We almost lost an outstanding mecha designer, which would have been a significant loss in human history. Soon, I will unveil the latest model of mecha with my disciple Ryan, who used his intelligence to overcome the difficulties of the new mecha design. He is my greatest help. I am deeply saddened by the bloody attack that occurred on Capital Star.”
“For now, you can’t see the new mecha, but you’ve seen Ryan Smith, the partner of General Dalton. He is the disciple of the national master, Gauss McAryan. This identity shines brighter than any second-generation heir—be it in business, politics, or wealth. It holds far more value!”
When Ryan and Auston got off the starship and returned home, Ryan’s background had already taken on numerous versions. The most widely circulated one was that Ryan came from a hidden aristocratic family, possessing a deep family legacy that allowed him to be raised into such an outstanding son. Such an exceptional Ryan could barely be considered worthy of General Dalton.
“Stop looking at the starnet. You’re not allowed to stress out right now,” Auston insisted, forcefully covering Ryan’s personal terminal, demanding that he rest properly. “Take a nap first. After you’re rested, we’ll eat, and I’ll have the family doctor come after dinner.”
“No need for that.”
“No way!” Auston was very firm on this matter, unwilling to compromise. “The doctor has to check you again before I can relax.”
Ryan surrendered. “Alright, alright, you’re right, as always.”
The bedroom fell silent. After Ryan closed his eyes and his breathing became steady, Auston finally left. Ryan didn’t dare to pretend under Auston’s watch, so he truly fell asleep. Unbeknownst to the sleeping Ryan, a storm had erupted on the internet. This upheaval spread from the online world to real life, and calling it a blood-soaked storm wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Amidst the whirlwind, Ryan and Auston continued their lives at their normal pace, unaffected by the chaos. By the time the storm calmed, a week had passed. This wasn’t a peaceful week: one family fell, another subdued itself, and yet another seemed victorious without actually gaining any substantial rewards… There were even more “fish and shrimp” that were toppled and raised in the battle between the sharks.
The family that fell was the Bromfield family, which had been pushed out by the Gustav family. The one that reigned itself in was Gustav, while the family that emerged unscathed from the storm was the Dalton family. Because of the “Bird of Paradise” organization’s attack, they sent Jacob Bromfield. Through Auston’s efforts and with the help of several factions, Bromfield was discarded. The power structure at the top of the Empire was reshuffled, and no one knew if they would be the next to fall. Only when the real moment came would people be able to reassess their own strength. The Bromfield family, who failed to recognize their fate, realized too late that they were never meant to win when they had conspired with the tiger. Now, seeing the true face of the Gustav family, it was far too late.
Another week passed, and the Empire’s Mecha Research Institute announced the upcoming release of a groundbreaking new mecha.
This would also be the first public appearance of the highly anticipated Ryan Smith. Everyone was eagerly awaiting it.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152