The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

“Hmph, interesting.” Huan Xian motioned for Jiang Hui to follow him as the two steadily moved past the safety boundary they had set for themselves, inching closer to the cautious prey concealed on the other side.

At this point, Jiang Hui was certain that Huan Xian was genuinely intrigued. He had been muttering to himself the entire way, his voice a constant, low drone. Occasionally, he shared snippets of his thoughts via psychic transmission, but it was clear those words weren’t directed at her.

‘So, what exactly is so interesting?’

Of course, Jiang Hui wasn’t about to start a casual conversation with him in such a perilous environment.

‘Geniuses always have one or two quirks,’ she reasoned. Perhaps his habit of talking to himself was just his way of thinking things through. Jiang Hui wasn’t keen on interrupting his process and decided it was best to let him focus in peace.

However, as they moved further and further away from their safe path, Jiang Hui couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease.

Although Jiang Hui had agreed to the plan—after all, “you can’t catch a tiger cub without entering the tiger’s den”—this journey into the den felt unnervingly smooth. Where was the tiger? And, more importantly, what was it thinking?

—

“I wonder how Jiang and Huan are doing over there? Why haven’t they caught up with us yet?” Xierman couldn’t stop glancing over his shoulder, a palpable sense of unease written all over his face.

Zhou Xiuwen, noticing his companion’s restlessness, furrowed his brow and finally spoke. “Jiang and Huan are both excellent marksmen—among the best I’ve seen. There’s hardly anyone who can surpass them.”

“As for this ‘Huo Qi,’ though I haven’t encountered him myself, given Jiang and Huan’s capabilities, even if they can’t complete the mission, escaping shouldn’t be an issue. Our focus should be on retreating smoothly and not causing them additional concerns.”

“Well, yes, that’s true,” Xierman admitted. “But Jiang’s leg injury still hasn’t healed, has it? She shouldn’t have risked joining this operation at all. There are still several star-hours left until the end of the match—if her leg gets permanently injured, it’ll be a serious problem in the future. And Huan shouldn’t have accompanied her on such a dangerous gamble either.”

Xierman’s tone was disapproving. Both he and Zhou Xiuwen were naturally cheerful and easy-going individuals. Despite not knowing each other for long, they shared a strong sense of camaraderie. Zhou Xiuwen’s sharp mind and reliable nature had earned Xierman’s trust, much like his trust in Jiang Hui. Usually, Xierman rarely argued or questioned Zhou Xiuwen’s opinions.

This time, however, Xierman’s concern for Jiang Hui overpowered his reasoned judgment. Zhou Xiuwen’s reassurances didn’t ease his growing anxiety; instead, his unease only deepened, leaving him with the unsettling feeling that something was about to go wrong.

Zhou Xiuwen had intended to say more, but seeing Xierman’s obvious distress, he fell silent, swallowing his words.

The reason for their decision to split up in the first place stemmed from their departure from L11.

Unlike before, this time it was Jiang Hui who had proposed splitting into two groups.

After ensuring the team successfully left L11, Jiang Hui noticed the timing and carefully guided them along. But midway, Huan Xian suddenly spotted traces that appeared to belong to Huo Qi and his team.

Given the situation, it should have worked in their favor. They could have taken the opportunity to slip away and leave their relentless pursuers far behind. By the time Huo Qi and his team realized what had happened, they’d be fuming—a perfect example of winning through clever strategy.

However, just when Jiang Hui had successfully pinpointed Huo Qi’s team and maneuvered their own group past them unnoticed, she suddenly changed her mind mid-way.

After asking Huan Xian about the details of Huo Qi’s situation and reflecting for a moment, the two seemed to have some kind of silent exchange. Then, Jiang Hui firmly decided to let the other three proceed ahead while she and Huan Xian stayed behind to set up an ambush.

“An ambush?”

When Xierman heard that Jiang Hui and Huan Xian intended to ambush an entire enemy squad, he nearly wanted to rush over, grab his friend by the shoulders, and shake her while asking if she was still thinking clearly. Had she lost her mind?

But when he met her resolute and unquestionable gaze, Xierman found himself at a loss for words.

What could he say? She had clearly made up her mind. It wasn’t an impulsive decision—she had thought it through, had a plan, and was mentally prepared. The only thing he could do was trust her judgment and support her decision.

In the end, Xierman joined Zhou Xiuwen and Clarens, leaving Jiang Hui and Huan Xian behind as they headed northeast toward their designated destination.

“…They’ll win,” Clarens muttered as he approached after scouting the area, his tone calm and unreadable. It wasn’t clear whether he was reassuring the others or responding to their earlier conversation.

“Let’s go.” What happened back there was their business; this team had their own plans to carry out.

—

“…Grid 37 latitude… southwest direction… 1.83367 kilometers… speed 3.679 meters per second… angle 60 degrees… arrival in 0.007 seconds…”

Before her eyes, ears, or even her instincts could fully process what was happening, Jiang Hui’s body reacted to a voice in her mind—one that overrode her very consciousness.

It all happened in an instant, so fast that even the blink of an eye couldn’t measure it. By the time they sensed the danger, it had already breached their safety perimeter and reached the two of them.

Given Jiang Hui’s physical condition, reflexes, and reaction time, even if her brain registered the danger, her body shouldn’t have been fast enough to respond. Yet, as if controlled by the same commanding voice in her mind, a force surged from within her consciousness and seized control of her entire nervous system.

As though manipulated like a puppet, Jiang Hui suddenly lunged at Huan Xian, pushing him aside with full force.

“Thud—”

Jiang Hui’s brain was struggling to process the overwhelming flood of information. Her mind was now completely consumed by a singular, visceral sensation.

‘Oh my god, this hurts like hell! So much pain, pain, pain!’

What on earth was she thinking, falling at this angle? Was her leg going to be permanently damaged from this fall?

Her face twisted uncontrollably from the excruciating pain, and it felt as though half her body had succumbed to the sensation, leaving her with a numbing ache spreading in waves.

‘Will I really be crippled from this? How tragic. If people find out that I ended up disabled because of some trivial school competition, I’d become the laughingstock for a lifetime…’

Her mind spun with ridiculous and chaotic thoughts, and Jiang Hui couldn’t even tell what time or day it was anymore.

It was Huan Xian who finally snapped out of it, quickly rushing to carefully help the girl, now slumped to one side, back into a proper position. His anxious voice reached her ears, though it sounded somewhat muffled:

“…Are you okay? You…”

Jiang Hui bared her teeth in a grimace. She really wanted to say she wasn’t okay at all, but the intense pain seemed to have rendered her throat temporarily mute. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t utter a word.

In desperation, drenched in sweat, the only thing she managed to croak out was:

“Huo Qi…”

Her grip on Huan Xian’s shoulder tightened momentarily, but as if realizing what she was doing, she immediately released her hold.

She felt someone gently wiping the cold sweat off her face. As the blurriness caused by the sweat cleared, her mind regained a sliver of clarity.

“…Could you… help me up first? I need to… get some payback.”

‘Damn it! They nearly destroyed her leg. She wouldn’t feel satisfied until she fired a few shots to even the score.’