The other people in the cabin didn’t even dare to breathe loudly, afraid that the hijackers would target them.

Brian Clark and Dylan Smith were brought to the main control room under the watchful aim of more than a dozen gun barrels. The original captain and helmsmen were all unconscious, tossed into a corner. Just as Brian Clark had expected, the hijackers hadn’t killed anyone, but what would happen next was anyone’s guess.

“Boss, we’ve brought them.”

The man sitting in the captain’s chair turned his seat around, playing with a gun in his hand. He was also wearing a mask, but instead of looking at Brian Clark, he stared straight at Dylan Smith. “Where is it?”

They had already searched all the luggage stored in the cargo hold, but hadn’t found what they were looking for.

Dylan Smith didn’t bother to play dumb. “It’s on me.”

The man’s hand paused as he played with the gun, his voice deep. “Take it out.”

Nearly twenty gun barrels were aimed at Dylan Smith, ready to fire at the slightest suspicious move.

Dylan Smith shrugged. “I’m telling you, I can give you the thing, but you’d better not let your guns go off by accident. If I die, you can forget about getting it.”

As he spoke, Dylan Smith shook his arm, and a silver ring slid from his upper arm to his wrist. He touched some spot on the ring, and the thin band transformed into a bracelet three centimeters wide.

A subspace artifact! And not just any quality—this one was worth far, far more than this entire passenger ship!

The hijackers clearly knew what it was. Even with their masks on, Brian Clark could tell their eyes were glowing green.

Dylan Smith took out a large black case. Brian Clark had seen this case in the dining hall before, and never imagined that the case Dylan Smith had been openly carrying around would be the hijackers’ target. Brian Clark had no doubt about the value of what was inside, but wasn’t Dylan Smith being a bit too flashy?!

He did it on purpose. This guy definitely did it on purpose!

Brian Clark tensed all his muscles, ready for action. He knew Dylan Smith was full of tricks and would never give in so easily.

After taking out the case, Dylan Smith tossed it directly to the man in the captain’s chair. But just as the man was about to catch it, all the lights in the control room went out.

Damn! He really made his move!

In the instant before the lights went out, Brian Clark saw a point on Dylan Smith’s bracelet flash, accompanied by a strange interference wave. Most people wouldn’t notice these waves, but the chip inside Brian Clark reacted, so he responded immediately and dodged out of the way.

Sure enough, darkness was followed by a burst of gunfire and beams of light shooting everywhere.

Dylan Smith had made his move!

Brian Clark didn’t need night vision lenses at all. His eyes changed on their own, rod cells multiplying on his retinas, pupils expanding to cover 90% of his eyeballs. The flash from a single laser gun was enough for Brian Clark to see the entire control room clearly, let alone with so many guns firing at once—it was like having floodlights installed.

Dylan Smith truly lived up to his status as an A-class genotype: decisive moves, precise strikes, every blow landing true. He didn’t even use a weapon—within a single breath, he had taken down more than half the hijackers. He didn’t kill them, just rendered them unable to move.

Brian Clark didn’t think Dylan Smith was being merciful. From a hunter’s perspective, live hijackers were worth more than dead ones.

One hijacker pulled out a backup light source, but even with it, they couldn’t catch sight of Dylan Smith. He was too fast, giving them no time to aim. Besides, the hijackers probably never expected the entire control room to go dark, and they hadn’t brought infrared goggles or electronic scanners.

The whole thing took less than ten seconds. To say the hijackers were routed would be an understatement—the difference in strength was obvious.

The last hijacker was smart. He grabbed an unconscious crew member to use as a shield, intending to take a hostage. But before he could say a word, there was a crack from his throat, making him the only fatality among the hijackers in the control room.

“I hate being threatened the most.” Dylan Smith’s tone was calm, without a hint of agitation, as if stating a simple, well-known fact.

With everything settled, the lights came back on and brightness returned to the control room. Brian Clark’s eyes also returned to normal.

Without even glancing at Brian Clark standing to the side, Dylan Smith started fiddling with several control panels.

A large screen unfolded, crisscrossed with rapidly moving coordinate lines, then locked onto several fast-moving light spots—those were the hijackers who had been patrolling other parts of the ship and fled when they realized things had gone wrong.

Once the targets were locked, Dylan Smith unceremoniously used the photon torpedoes equipped on the passenger ship. Brian Clark’s mouth twitched—didn’t it take several layers of passwords to use the ship’s photon torpedoes? How did this guy manage it so quickly?

Explosions burst out one after another like fireworks, and the fighters the fleeing hijackers were piloting were blown to pieces.