The Whole Empire Thinks The Admiral Wants To Steal The Bride - Extra 2.2

　　　
Extra 2.2 – Glenn’s Childhood

☆☆、Chapter 34 – Lone Wolf (II) ☆☆、

　　Glenn was very pretty when he was a child, but his features were different from those of an adult, with deep eyebrows and strong features. The five or six-year-old kid had soft cheeks, and even though he was skinny, his face still had a bulging flesh.

　　And those big, bright black eyes, coupled with the naturally upturned corners of his mouth, perfectly neutralize the unhappy expression he always had.

　　During Glenn’s childhood, when he was very far from gender transition, people often thought that this child would most likely grow up to be an Omega, and that because of his bad temper, he might be kicked out of the house soon after getting married and having children.

　　This view had largely died out by the time Glenn was twelve or thirteen, for one reason or another—this pretty dark-haired kid that old Randy had picked up from the junkyard was such a damn good fighter.

　　Randy Sasir is very proud of this.

　　To be fair, old Randy could not be considered Glenn’s adoptive father. He just picked up a baby and half-heartedly threw the child to the most amazing woman in the alley – the abandoned mistress, the forty-something years old female Omega named Irene, to be raised.

　　During the day, the child was carried on Randy’s back through the garbage mountain on Waste Planet No. 8, and old Randy occasionally fed him some nutrient solution; at night, Irene would hum some nursery rhymes from the Celine Empire to coax him to sleep, and she gently patted his body like an ordinary mother.

　　This beautiful woman in distress gradually weakened during the six years of severe winter in the alley. She died in the fifth year of Glen’s residence in the alley. When she was found, her body was as stiff as ice.

　　She was popular during her lifetime.

　　Several Betas who got along well with her felt sorry for her and buried her in a wasteland at the end of a dark alley, farthest from the garbage disposal station. Of course, there was no tombstone. But no one living in the dark alley was willing to hand over their bodies to the large machinery at the disposal station. This might have been a “human dignity issue.”

　　——Whether before or after death, people are not garbage after all.

　　Many years later, Glenn could still vaguely remember that it was an ordinary Thursday, and the snow still did not stop on the No. 8 waste planet.

　　Old Sasir held his hand and stood among the crowd, watching the heavy snow bury the raised earth pile.

　　That was his first direct encounter with death.

　　The person who took over from Irene to take care of Glenn was Irene’s good friend Marian. This blonde Beta’s specialty was finding expired alcohol from household garbage and pouring it all into her stomach.

　　It’s a pity that Marianne’s alcohol tolerance is obviously not commensurate with her desire for alcohol. She always can’t control herself and gets herself drunk, screaming loudly, whimpering in pain softly, and then falling asleep on the bed and floor without knowing what day it is.

　　She was not a good candidate to be a foster mother, and she was quite aware of it.

　　Therefore, under Marian’s management, Glenn’s team of breeders grew larger and larger.

　　The residents of these alleys ranged from 40 to 86 years old. They participated in the fight intentionally or unintentionally. Today you threw some food, and tomorrow I threw some clothes. No one really cared about Glenn’s life or death, but this little guy who always had a blank expression finally grew up day by day in this cold and long alley under these intentional or unintentional care.

　　In a flash, eleven years have passed

　　The eleven-year-old black-haired boy was already quite tall. He was wearing a black winter suit that was obviously too big for his size—colored by natural stains—and he moved swiftly around the machines, large and small, and stopped in front of his target. “Are you looking for me?”

　　”Something happened.” The old homeless man looked back at him.

　　In the past eleven years, his wrinkles have become more and more, and his hair is still messy and draped behind his head, like dead grass covered with dust and mud. But Randy is in good spirits and has good physical strength. He can still walk briskly at the garbage disposal station, and he doesn’t look like an 80-year-old alien.

　　It was as if only its shell had aged; its parts were still functioning robustly, with no sign of it shutting down.

　　Glenn had never seen the outside world, nor did he have his own terminal. He rarely had doubts and rarely asked why.

　　Otherwise, he might ask: “Why are you still so lively?!”

　　And now, the country boy Glenn just blinked his eyes: “Oh.” He asked, “Are we going to run out of food again?”

　　”Shut up, idiot.” Randy interrupted him impatiently. He looked at the garbage mountain behind him, with flames dancing in his dark brown eyes. “Do you want to leave here? Leave Waste Planet No. 8.”

　　”Leave?”

　　”Yes, let’s go!” Randy was obviously very excited. He waved his hands excitedly. “Let’s go to a place with spring. Damn, this place is too fucking cold!”

　　Glenn just tilted his head and asked calmly, “Spring?”

　　”Oh, you haven’t seen it,” the old tramp touched the boy’s head lovingly, “poor little thing.”

　　The boy said nothing, but just pouted in displeasure.

　　One of the main reasons why he could survive in the dark alleys without any trouble was that he was always very obedient when he should be. He had an almost savage judgment of people’s kindness and malice, and this judgment was rarely wrong – he was good at seeking benefits and avoiding harm.

　　In fact, at this time, Randy Sasir’s work for the day had already been finished. He picked up the bag containing the “treasures” that could be used and took the boy back to his “black room”.

　　They ate some expired compressed food and sat opposite each other at the two ends of a welded metal table, each with a repeatedly repaired chair under their buttocks.

　　Then Randy pulled out something.

　　He placed it carefully on the table, cushioned by a torn silk handkerchief, and pushed it towards Glenn.

　　Glenn took it, fiddled with it curiously for a few times, and then put the obviously precious thing back.

　　”What is this?” he asked, pointing at the light piece of iron.

　　”This is a terminal communicator,” Old Sasir smiled proudly, “I found it from a scrapped password box.”

　　Glenn shook his head in confusion: “Terminal communicator… Can I eat it?”

　　”You only know how to eat?!” Randy Sasir took the terminal back and shouted, “Do you know what this means? What does it mean?!”

　　Glenn really didn’t know.

　　The black-haired boy shrank back awkwardly.

　　”With the communicator, we can get in touch with the outside world. If we’re lucky, we can make a deal with someone,” the old tramp said anxiously, “and then we can leave this damn place.”

　　Randy clumsily turned on the communicator, and the screen lit up. This terminal communicator was powered by a powerful energy storage core inside it, so users didn’t have to worry about battery life, unless they planned to have cross-galaxy video chats around the clock for decades, which was possible.

　　But the old homeless man on Waste Planet No. 8 had never used such advanced equipment. He could only rely on his remaining memory of the old version of the communicator from 20 years ago to barely connect to the remote signal of the garbage disposal station.

　　The cold voice of artificial intelligence immediately sounded: “Hello, Mr. Sasir, it’s a pleasure to serve you.”

　　Glenn’s mouth opened in surprise.

　　Randy’s condition was not much better than his. He looked like a young man who was invited to dance by a beautiful girl at a dance for the first time. The old tramp whispered, “Do you know who I am?”

　　”You are Mr. Kabria Sasir.” The artificial intelligence answered calmly.

　　Good, there is no Mr. Kabria in this room.

　　Randy’s excitement level dropped by 20 percent: “Your master is Kabria Sasir.”

　　”Yes.” The AI said, “Do you want to enable security verification?”

　　”No, no need.” Old Sasir said hurriedly, almost biting his tongue.

　　The young man opposite him had just recovered from his shock, his black eyes sparkling and showing an eagerness to try.

　　”Can I try it?” the boy asked.

　　”Sure,” Randy replied, “you try it.”

　　The younger the people are, the better they are at handling these new technology products. This characteristic of the people had not changed much from the First Galactic Age to the Third Galactic Age.

　　Not to mention that old Sasir wanted to leave so badly that he was willing to try everything possible.

　　‘I have to go,’ he thought.

　　‘I have to go.’

　　——Randy Sasier’s old partner, Simon, also died last week.

　　Waste Planet No. 8 is becoming colder and colder.

　　-TBC