Abyss Solo-Chapter 101 - : 061 The Torchbearer

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Chapter 101: 061 The Torchbearer

Heh—

The vibrating sound of a hard straw sucking in air echoed through the splendid dining hall of the Imperial Palace.

Yang Ming let out a low sigh, sat in his chair, and patted his insatiable belly, savoring the delicious flavors he had just experienced.

The delights of the Imperial Palace were like that, a bit odd at first bite, but once you got used to the taste, the taste buds could appreciate the complex, multidimensional, layered flavors.

As expected of a feudal Empire from the era of Interstellar voyages, the standard of dining was truly out of this world—topped with a steamer basket.

Yang Ming looked up at the two esteemed individuals sitting across the long table.

...

“Are you both not hungry?” he chuckled, suppressing a burp.

The Second Prince’s face darkened.

Fourth Princess Emilia huffed, “Brother, you shouldn’t have invited this rude fellow. He didn’t even say thank you.”

“Thank you, Second Prince, for your hospitality,” Yang Ming blinked.

The blood pressure of the Second Prince rose significantly.

The guard beside whispered, “Your Highness… should I still throw it?”

“Throwing objects from heights is illegal; you have to respect the planet’s gravity,” the Second Prince replied indifferently, “If my waist weren’t injured, I’d teach this disrespectful fellow a lesson with my true strength.”

“Come on, let me join you for a ball practice,” Yang Ming laughed, “No fibbing now, this planet’s gravity is already quite low, about eighty-six percent of the Milky Way’s standard gravity. With your excellent physical condition, could you really have twisted your waist?”

The Second Prince shrugged, “Indeed, was it just… hmm… came here just to play ball?”

“Of course, there are also some matters between men to discuss.”

Yang Ming blinked.

The Second Prince thought for a moment, then laughed and accepted Yang Ming’s invitation.

A few minutes later, at the ball practice field.

Yang Ming and the Second Prince stood side by side, each wearing a device resembling a duckbill cap and tiny transparent protective shields over their faces.

They swung the curved sticks in their hands, hitting round balls fired by a machine from afar.

Sticked ball sport originated during the hot years of hoverboarding, requiring not only improving one’s hitting accuracy but also skillfully controlling the hoverboard, adding to the spectacle of the sport.

“Did you receive the intelligence?” Yang Ming casually asked.

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The Second Prince hesitated.

“That flamboyant secret agent, Lulian,” Yang Ming nonchalantly hit a flying ball.

He needed to prove his worth to the Second Prince.

That was the purpose of his visit.

“Otherwise, how could your subordinates have taken special notice of him? And got hold of that agent’s secret communication?”

“Ah,” the Second Prince turned to look at Yang Ming, “How did you obtain that intelligence? Who exactly are you?”

Ding!

The stick sent the ball flying.

Yang Ming exhaled, wiped the non-existent sweat from his forehead: “Certainly not a New Federation agent.”

“Really?”

The Second Prince glanced at Emilia, who was drinking tea in the distant rest area, and smiled, “How did you practice your stick hitting skills?”

Clearly, the Second Prince did not want to continue that topic.

Yang Ming decided to leave it there, deliberately saying something cryptic: “Second Prince, what do you rely on when you play? Your eyes? Your arms?”

“Of course, it’s not like I can use my forehead.”

“I rely on this,” Yang Ming pointed to his heart, “You have to believe in the power of the heart.”

“That sounds a bit like a swindling religion.”

The Second Prince’s expression was slightly disdainful.

Yang Ming picked up the remote control, setting his ball machine to random release and adjusting the ball speed to maximum.

Then, in front of the Second Prince, he slowly closed his eyes and let out a breath.

Yang Ming’s ears trembled slightly, and he tilted his head as if he was using sound to pinpoint the positions.

Behind him, the group of guards standing beyond the safety net simultaneously reached for their waists.

Whoosh!

A composite material ball came flying!

Yang Ming gripped the stick with both hands, rapidly turning it ninety degrees, using the narrow vertical side to sweep forward, the stick producing a whooshing sound in the air.

Bang!

The ball shattered immediately!

The group of guards instantly pulled out their laser pistols and aimed at Yang Ming!

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

The Second Prince shouted with wide eyes and waved his hands vigorously, making the group of guards holster their laser guns.

With high-speed balls appearing one after another, Yang Ming kept the stick in a vertical slashing position, his hands swinging the stick leisurely.

A few minutes later.

Yang Ming opened his eyes, looked at the debris on the grass before him, and at the Second Prince beside him trying to remain calm but obviously flabbergasted…

Yang Ming slightly curled his lips.

“It’s a power similar to this.”

“Ah, Yang Ming, this is…”

“A cultivation method based on meditation,” Yang Ming bluffed gravely, “Humans are a common species in the Milky Way, because the initial batch of humans, millions of years ago, crossed low-dimensional barriers, and we, most of us, are the seeds they sowed.”

The Second Prince murmured, “The latest research does indeed suggest that, but this…”

“The human body has great potential, it’s just never been tapped; everyone prefers big-caliber ion cannons,” Yang Ming shrugged, “Of course, I can’t share my method of cultivation; it’s my privacy.”

“Of course, it’s your patent, but this, this isn’t scientific, or at least I don’t think it’s scientific… Wow, that’s terrifying.”

The prince was clearly at a loss for words.

“So,” Yang Ming walked over to the Second Prince, reaching out to pat his arm, “if you need me to kill someone, just say the word. As I’m at your service, I might as well do some dirty work.”