The meeting of the twelve Sentinels was held less than ten meters away from Ye Lingxi.
“Let me first report on our current supply situation.”
Lin Chuan pulled up a string of data on his Personal Terminal, a virtual screen unfolding in mid-air: “We have 180 high-energy Nutrient Solution units remaining. Under normal consumption, that’s enough to sustain the twelve of us for 15 days. In extreme circumstances, we could stretch it to 30-45 days.”
His fingers slid across the screen, switching to another set of data: “Suppressants…”
He paused mid-sentence.
“We only have enough Suppressants left for five days.”
Lin Chuan raised his head, his gaze sweeping across everyone present. “According to the original plan, we were supposed to enter the Slumbering Lands within 3 to 5 days of arriving on this planet, and these Suppressants would have been sufficient. But now…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but everyone understood what he meant.
Now they had encountered a Guide.
Mingzhou’s brow furrowed slightly. “If we use the minimum dosage, how long can we last?”
“Even if we cut it down to one-third of the normal dosage, we can only hold out for 15 days at most,” Lin Chuan said.
The importance of Suppressants to High-Pollution Sentinels needed no elaboration.
Cutting down to one-third of the normal dosage was already the absolute limit at which they could maintain their sanity.
15 days.
That number hung like a stone, pressing down on everyone’s hearts.
After 15 days, the Suppressants would run out.
After 15 days, some of them would begin to lose control, turning into monsters that knew nothing but killing.
And here, there was a Guide.
A frail Guide, abandoned on a Desolate Planet, who needed their protection.
As for Mental Grooming…
If their ranks were lower, or their Pollution Levels lower, perhaps Mental Grooming might still be possible.
But the twelve of them—the lowest rank among them was S-Rank, and the lowest Pollution Level exceeded 85 points.
Ordinary Mental Grooming was completely useless for them.
Unless it was Deep Grooming.
But Deep Grooming could only be performed through extremely intimate contact, and was generally only conducted between bonded partners.
Moreover, performing Deep Grooming on a High-Pollution Sentinel with a Pollution Level exceeding 85 points was extremely dangerous for the Guide. One misstep and they would be devoured by Turbid Qi, damaging their Mental Power and Mental Landscape, potentially even causing permanent harm.
Therefore, federal law explicitly prohibited Guides from performing Deep Grooming on High-Pollution Sentinels.
It also prohibited Sentinels from forcing Guides to perform Deep Grooming.
Although they had been exiled to the Sentinel’s Slumbering Lands, their conscience remained intact. They could not disregard the law, and they certainly would not put the Guide in danger.
“So the problem now is that we cannot protect the Guide for an extended period. Once the Suppressants run out, we won’t even be able to protect ourselves, let alone her,” Pei Jin said.
“Then we should help her find a way home as soon as possible, or send her to a planet with a federal garrison,” Shi Qi said.
“The nearest federal garrison planet is 17 light-years away, and our ship’s main propulsion system is already damaged,” Ji Xiao said.
Everyone fell silent.
Every path was blocked.
Mingzhou lowered his gaze, and after a long moment, said: “Send out a distress signal.”
This star region was the slumbering zone of the Seventh Army.
With that many people in the Seventh Army, perhaps they weren’t the only squad sent here.
Or perhaps a merchant vessel might pass nearby—the probability was small, but it was worth trying.
Lin Chuan operated his Personal Terminal and, in the name of the Seventh Army Special Operations Unit, sent out a highest-priority red distress signal.
But this area was too remote within the entire star region—even the interstellar network couldn’t reach here.
They could only activate the emergency backup module on their Personal Terminals to broadcast the distress signal. Under these circumstances, both signal strength and transmission range would be severely limited.
The probability of this distress signal being picked up was extremely low.
The distress signal had been sent. Now came the waiting.
Waiting to see if there would be a response.
Waiting to see if any other Seventh Army comrades were on this planet.
Waiting for a hope that might not exist at all.
Six or seven meters away, Ye Lingxi had no idea what they were discussing.
She could see their expressions—sometimes serious, sometimes grave—and their mouths were making sounds in a language she couldn’t understand at all.
Hopefully they weren’t discussing how to eat her…
Being at someone else’s mercy really was an awful feeling…
She sat dejectedly on the rock, listlessly picking up a small pebble. With a sigh, she tossed it casually.
The pebble landed in the wild grass with a faint rustle.
She picked up another one and tossed it again.
Picked up, tossed…
Like a bored child to the extreme, playing some meaningless game with herself.
But really, what she wanted most was to throw the rocks at the heads of the twelve people not far away.
Sensing someone looking at her, she immediately glanced back.
The next moment, she met a gentle gaze.
It was the man whose face was covered in black tattoos. His eyes were very dark, like a night sky without stars, carrying a smile that annoyed her!
The man who had just intercepted her escape route was wearing that same gentle, spring-breeze smile.
And against her wishes, he had carried her all the way here…
Yes, carried. Thanks to that man, she had experienced what it felt like to have the ground shrink beneath one’s feet.
Far more thrilling than a roller coaster.
And now, here she was—a “reserve food supply” thoroughly detained in this place.
Seeing that he was still looking at her, Ye Lingxi couldn’t hold back her irritation and shot him a direct eye roll.
A big, round eye roll that fully conveyed her displeasure at the moment.
Six or seven meters away, Mingzhou blinked in confusion.
In this star sector, almost no one expressed displeasure by rolling their eyes.
Mingzhou couldn’t decipher the meaning of that eye roll. For a moment, he only felt that this Guide, though somewhat frail, was truly full of vitality.
Even her gaze was so… brimming with life…
The reactions from Lin Chuan, Pei Jin, and the other eleven people nearby were far more colorful.
Shi Qi’s mouth formed an O shape again. His mental entity was supposed to be a wolf, yet he had widened his eyes into round, puppy-like orbs.
He stared unblinkingly in Ye Lingxi’s direction, and only after a long moment did he whisper to Ji Xiao beside him: “Did you see that? The Guide’s expression just now—so cute!”
Ji Xiao nodded, his movements a bit stiff. His face had flushed red at some point, spreading from the roots of his ears all the way down to his neck. He stammered, “S-saw it. The Guide’s eyes… so big, so round!”
Shi Qi shot Ji Xiao a suspicious look and said with disdain, “Why are you blushing? The Guide wasn’t even looking at you.”
He scooted away from Ji Xiao in disgust, then raised his arm and waved, “Guide! Look at me, look at me!”
Ye Lingxi did look at Shi Qi.
In her field of vision, he was an extremely eye-catching young man.
His silver short hair gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen under the dim light. His delicate features—high brow bones, a straight nose bridge, and thin lips—curved into a bold, unrestrained smile, carrying the unique vigor of youth.
Yet on that sunny, handsome face spread eerie white beast markings.
Mysterious, uncanny, yet somehow… beautiful.
Shi Qi’s gaze was intense, his smile unbridled.
Ye Lingxi found herself unconsciously infected by it, and a faint smile tugged at her lips in return.
That smile was very subtle—just a slight curve at the corners of her mouth and a gentle squint of her eyes.
But she quickly realized her situation. What was she, a reserve food supply, doing smiling at a pack of predators?
What was there to smile about!