Chapter 7: The Black Contract, Section 5

In the vast universe, a shark-shaped warship drifted silently, as if it had always been there. Its surface was pitch black, with not a single light to be seen. On its massive hull, tiny arcs of electricity flickered everywhere, as if they were living things.

Hei Fa had been in the machinery workshop for a whole week. During this time, Li Feng had already reached outer space around the Xieke planet. The energy recycling system had also started working properly, gradually restoring the warship’s power. From time to time, various-sized household robots appeared in every corner of the ship, acting like the native inhabitants and getting busy.

“Ah!! That’s my shoe!! Bastard, that’s not trash—it’s my shoe!! Give it back, you metal monster! Give my shoe back!!”

A shrill wail broke the silence aboard the warship. Immediately afterward, a small robot holding a shoe larger than its head rushed out of the room like a whirlwind and disappeared quickly down the corridor. Behind it, Xue Tong, like a child who had lost its favorite toy, cursed loudly and chased after it desperately.

In another room not far away, Sulei, who was quietly reading, couldn’t help but sigh and close her book.

How many times had this happened? Ever since those strange little things appeared on the warship, Xue Tong hadn’t had a moment’s peace. Clothes, shoes, weapons, daggers—almost everything they carried was treated as trash by these little monsters and ruthlessly sent to the waste recycling area. No matter how much Xue Tong protested, it was useless. If it weren’t for the ample spare clothes here, he would probably be running around naked by now.

There was nothing to do. After all, Hei Fa wasn’t here. Who else could understand the texts on this floating ship and operate it? Sulei felt dizzy. If he knew about these little guys’ mischief, he would surely be at his wits’ end too.

Of course, Hei Fa had no idea what was going on on the ship at that moment, as he had devoted all his energy to assembling his new fighter.

Just like the term “DIY” that was popular on Earth long ago, for a skilled technician, assembling mechs—a task that required both mental and physical effort—offered unparalleled joy.

What kind of arms are suitable for combat, and what kind for shooting? What is the optimal ratio between overall weight and engine power? The installation and replacement of various auxiliary weapons. The trade-off between environmental adaptability and specialization—there are countless factors that every technician must consider during assembly.

I remember a long time ago, a highly famous ace technician on Earth once said, “The best mecha isn’t the one with the highest investment or most advanced equipment. It’s the one that suits you best. If a technician can’t even control their own mecha, then they are pitiable.”

Kurokami strongly agreed with this view. After all, a mecha is just a weapon. What truly can bring destruction to the enemy isn’t just the weapon itself, but the person who wields it.

The modelless mecha had already been carefully disassembled by Kurokami into countless parts, scattered carelessly in an inconspicuous corner of the workshop. In its place now stood a new figure—a standard humanoid mecha, about ten meters tall, with a deep blue surface. At first glance, it didn’t seem much different from ordinary mechas. But upon closer inspection, its design principles were asymmetrical: its left arm was slightly longer than the right, and its shoulders were a bit broader. This gave it an appearance that lacked harmony compared to regular mechas and instead carried a sense of strangeness.

After tuning them, Kurokami had largely understood the strengths of the five modelless mechas. And this deep blue figure before him was one of his attempts.

“Phantom.” That was the name of the mecha.

It was a mecha designed for space combat, equipped with the most common composite engine among mechanical mechas. Its power source wasn’t outstanding—at least, its speed was slightly lower compared to Kurokami’s previous mechas. However, thanks to the many additional thrusters he installed, it had exceptional agility in space, on par with any fighter aircraft. Its arms were still configured for combat and shooting, but the shotgun was replaced by a weapon module above the wrist, freeing both hands for other purposes.

Overall, just from its appearance, this mecha didn’t seem like anything special. Its performance was also unremarkable. If it were put on the market, it would probably only be comparable to the lowest-tier worm-class mechas.

Yet it held significance in Kurokami’s eyes because beneath its unimpressive exterior lay three powerful abilities.

“Expansion ports, a diversified control center, and the most terrifying…”
“Invisibility technology.”

Without a doubt, with these three abilities, this seemingly useless mecha instantly became an extremely terrifying existence. When equipped with all auxiliary accessories through its expansion ports, its combat power would far surpass that of the little devils. It could also be customized according to different environmental needs, offering great flexibility in combat tactics.

Satisfied with his masterpiece, Black Hair took out a cigarette and lit it, puffing away smoke.

Interstellar travel was dull and monotonous—something even Black Hair couldn’t escape. Yet he never expected that when he stepped out of the machinery workshop, he would be greeted with such enthusiasm. Blood Eyes rushed at him as if charging forward, gripping his shoulders tightly and shaking him violently, unable to say a word.

“What’s wrong with him? It’s only been a few days—no need to be so emotional, right?” Black Hair asked Su Lei in surprise, staring at Blood Eyes, who was in tears.

“If the clothes you change every day were thrown away as trash right away, and even your shoes weren’t spared, I think you’d be just as emotional as him,” Su Lei replied, trying not to laugh.

At that moment, with tears and snot streaming down his face, Blood Eyes finally spoke his first words since seeing Black Hair.

“Head! Shut those metal cans up already! I can’t take it anymore… Really, I can’t take it anymore… Those little bastards—what’s this called recycling? It’s outright robbery! Not only are they taking the clothes I change into, but now they’re even trying to strip me of what I’m wearing…”

Hahaha, Blood Eyes’ pitiful complaints immediately sparked laughter. Not only Su Lei but even Black Hair was amused by his tearful demeanor. The group of bandits led by Baroque laughed even harder. Although they too had been troubled by these kids, they were clearly not as unlucky as Blood Eyes.

“Getting used to it?” Amidst the laughter, Black Hair suddenly asked Baroque.

After pondering for a moment, the chubby man rubbed his chin. “It’s okay. But I still remember the screams of my children. If I could, I’d prefer to exchange your head for their peace.”

“Good,” Black Hair smiled. “I welcome you to come and get it anytime. But before that, I expect you to fulfill your duty. From now on, you’re the chief sailor of this ship.”

“Yes, Captain.”