Chapter 38: Third Time’s the Charm

Is this a new character? Yuki remained standing there, gazing out the window.

That humanoid figure lingered for about half a second in the instant when the rocket launch’s fiery glow illuminated it. The brilliant light stayed in Yuki’s eyes for another three to five seconds, allowing him, even after the figure vanished, to observe the rough outline of the backlit silhouette.

A humanoid creature, between 175 and 185 centimeters tall, neither fat nor thin, with an ordinary build, long straight hair, indistinct facial features, dressed in a long leather coat.

Yuki’s first impression was that it was a woman, but upon closer thought, the long coat obscured much of the body’s contours, so it was impossible to reach a definite conclusion. That silhouette with straight hair—could it be a Dada Star native?

He searched through his memory, but found no one who matched.

Yuki walked to the window, watching the rocket slowly ascend.

“A three-stage rocket… with so many boosters. Where are they trying to send it?”

At first, rumors online speculated that the president wanted to launch the birthday rocket into low Earth orbit, a guess based on the profit-seeking nature of businessmen—this would be cost-effective, and the marketing goal would be achieved.

Yet the rocket before him had enough power to accelerate to the third cosmic velocity, escaping the sun’s gravitational pull and heading into deep space.

Businessmen pursue profit; only with enough benefit would they attempt such a thing.

It’s said that nothing happens more than three times.

The number three holds a special place in the realm of mysticism.

Yuki once again triggered the prerequisite for his Portal skill, beginning to pinpoint the network node for the third transmission.

Despite the rocket launch base’s efforts to ensure network security by physically isolating internal and external networks, the connection between the rocket and the ground control center could not be severed. Humanity’s rocket technology had yet to develop to the point where it could completely abandon the cloud, relying solely on local acquisition, computation, and execution; it still depended on assistance from the ground control center.

“If something goes wrong again this time, I’m afraid…”

Looking at the quietly unfolding magic array before him, Yuki couldn’t help but sigh.

His original plan was to sabotage the rocket directly from the inside, but at the captain’s suggestion, he switched to wrecking the rocket launch base instead. The institute, however, preemptively cut the network link between itself and the launch base, causing his mission to fail midway.

What should have been a one-step operation was forcibly broken down into three steps.

If he still couldn’t reach the destination in one go this time, bad luck awaited—not just for himself, but for others as well.

…

…

Meanwhile, chaos reigned in the space station.

In fact, they were already striving to maintain order, but it was like a food counter: everyone queued up, yet couldn’t help but crowd forward, afraid their desired dish would sell out if they hesitated.

The chaos began with a mysterious transmission. It used the station’s AR projection to display the image of a young woman in the air, glasses perched on her nose, impeccably dressed in work attire, announcing earth-shattering news.

—The Rocket Launch Base, subordinate to the Cosmic Technology Research Institute, had just launched a three-stage carrier rocket. After launch, multiple low-Earth satellites immediately captured its image signal.

Based on simulations of the rocket’s current trajectory and velocity, it was concluded—the rocket would reach the space station’s orbital altitude in twelve minutes, and collide with the station.

The young woman opened a virtual screen with her fingertips, showing the station’s orbital path and the rocket’s flight trajectory; two dashed lines intersected just toward the rear of the station’s center.

Before the researchers could doubt this suspicious warning, an urgent communication from NAXA jolted everyone awake!

NAXA’s ground control station hadn’t even finished issuing the emergency alert—barely halfway through, the researchers scattered like startled birds, the once-crowded lounge instantly becoming deserted. They rushed to the six research modules and four lab modules assembled at the station’s rear, neglecting safety lines, gathering every piece of scientific data and experiment sample they could see onto small carts, then queued up to push these carts toward the living quarters at the front of the station.

Exerting force in zero gravity is difficult, yet at that moment, the researchers and scientists displayed astonishing strength: one hand gripping the hooks on the cabin walls, the other pushing carts weighing a hundred kilograms, shooting forward like fish in a wave.

Twelve minutes is neither long nor short, but when the rocket from the warning appeared outside the cabin window, slowly approaching, everyone was terrified.

In the reference-less void of space, the naked eye makes a rocket moving at sixteen kilometers per hour seem slow. If the rocket appeared to be drifting closer, the station, by comparison, seemed utterly motionless.

The space station had its own propulsion system, but twelve minutes wasn’t enough even to warm it up. Emergency orbital alteration wasn’t even proposed—it was instantly dismissed.

New alarms sounded in the space station; data collected by the space-based radar had been processed, and immediately triggered a collision alert for space debris. The orbital calculation results were simultaneously displayed on the big screen.

This conclusion was more precise than what the young woman had presented, down to which specific modules would suffer direct impact.

The damage forecast showed that the direct hit would be on the service module and two docking modules connected to it, as well as two airlock modules. The most critical of these was the service module, which housed equipment such as gas and power supplies—immovable components. Moreover, from a safety perspective, they were highly flammable and explosive.

Upon discovering this, the station began sequentially cutting off the power supply, switching lines to backup power. The backup power and corresponding solar cell arrays were located near Node Module No. 1, with the entire power line separated from the normal supply, providing electricity only to the living quarters, supporting the life support systems, buying time, and awaiting rescue.

The chaos inside the station actually didn’t last long. Scientists and researchers quickly made their choices, carrying away only the most crucial data and samples, which now filled the living quarters to capacity.

More than thirty researchers joined the maintenance group, patrolling essential equipment and components.

Although the backup power could sustain life support systems for a considerable length of time, everyone unconsciously slowed their breathing, as if it might save a bit more oxygen, helping them hold out just a little longer.