Chapter 519: The Fifth Day of Transmigrating into an Interstellar World

Chapter 519: The Fifth Day of Being Thrown into the Interstellar World

The door to Cabin E-9 slid open in front of An Yi.

An Yi walked in.

It was the standard interstellar dorm setup: a single bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a wall-mounted screen connected to the Starnet.

The blanket on the bed was folded sharp and neat, the standard military academy way.

On the desk sat a few textbooks—*Advanced Ship Dynamics*, *Interstellar Engine Structure Analysis*, *Maintenance Bay Safety Manual*—and a half-finished mechanical model.

All of it was the original owner's stuff.

An Yi walked over to the desk and picked up the mechanical model to check it out.

It was a small starship's engine structure, built with crazy precision. Every part was perfectly scaled, and it could even simulate running.

Some parts were still unassembled, sitting neatly in a small box next to it.

He put the model down and sat on the edge of the desk.

Right then, his wristband buzzed.

An Yi looked down—a new message had come in.

The sender showed as "System Notification."

[Mission Alert: In 12 hours, the "Yuanxing" transport mission kicks off. Objective: Deliver a load of maintenance supplies to the Third Star Sector forward outpost. Estimated time: 72 hours. Mission rank: C-rank.]

C-rank.

In the interstellar military ranking system, C-rank was the lowest-risk category—usually logistics or supply runs, with barely any chance of combat.

But An Yi knew this time wouldn't be so simple.

In the original story, the body's owner hit a real crisis during this seemingly routine C-rank mission—they accidentally got tangled up in a Federation conspiracy, got hunted as scapegoats, and even though the truth came out in the end, it caught the eye of top military brass. After all that life-and-death stuff, the body's owner officially joined the main crew.

The wristband buzzed again—this time, a private message.

An Yi tapped it, and a line of text popped up on the screen: "E-10, Xing Ruize.—Tomorrow 5 AM, don't be late. Any issues, come find me."

That was it.

An Yi stared at the message, then slowly typed back one word: "Okay."

Xing Ruize stared at that single "Okay" on his screen, frowning a little.

Just "Okay"?

He stared at it for three seconds.

Then he looked away. Then back.

Nope, still just "Okay."

Xing Ruize frowned even harder.

An Yi had been staring at him all day yesterday, and just now in the hallway too—so why did he only text back one word?

Was his message too cold?

Xing Ruize looked down at what he'd sent—"E-10, Xing Ruize.—Tomorrow 5 AM, don't be late. Any issues, come find me."

Yeah, that was a bit stiff.

But wouldn't adding "good night" be too much?

He hesitated for two seconds, finger hovering over the screen, then put the phone down.

Nah, forget it.

Still—he checked the send time—An Yi had replied fast.

At exactly 4:50 AM, An Yi showed up at Berth D-3.

The Yuanxing sat docked in the middle of the berth.

It was a mid-sized transport, about eighty meters long, with a sleek hull of dark gray armor that gleamed cold under the berth lights.

Its cargo bay doors hung wide open, and a few automated loading bots were hauling standard containers inside, their mechanical arms humming faintly in the big empty berth.

Jiang Biao was already there, standing at the cargo bay entrance with a data pad, checking the container numbers.

When he saw An Yi coming, he looked up and grinned. "Yo, the kid's here," he said. "Pretty early."

An Yi walked over and stood next to him. "Need a hand?"

"Nah, nah." Jiang Biao waved a hand, the data pad swinging in his grip. "I'm just keeping an eye out. You can board the ship later—get a feel for the place first."

An Yi just nodded, not saying anything else.

He just stood there, watching the bots work.

Jiang Biao shot him a look, then another.

An Yi caught him looking and turned his head. "What's up?"

"Nothing, nothing." Jiang Biao quickly looked off.

He thought to himself—An Yi seemed pretty easygoing.

Their team had dealt with other engineers and repairers before, and every single one had their nose in the air, acting like hot shit, chins practically pointing at the ceiling when they talked, arrogant as hell.

Before coming, he'd wondered what this repairer would be like. If he was another stuck-up type, this trip would've been a pain in the ass.

But he turned out to be this chill.

And their captain, who couldn't get a word out to save his life, hadn't caused any trouble either.

Good, good.

At five, everyone was there.

Xing Ruize was the last one to arrive.

When he showed up at the berth entrance, it was ten minutes to five—not a second early, not a second late.

Jiang Biao glanced at the time on his wristband and muttered quietly, "Always on time..."

Xing Ruize walked over, his gaze swept over the group and stopped on An Yi.

An Yi nodded slightly. "Captain."

Xing Ruize's lips parted, like he wanted to say something—something nice, to show he was welcoming.

After all, An Yi had been watching him since yesterday, right?

So now, as captain, he should respond to that... that attention.

He opened his mouth.

And then said, "Mm."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of An Yi's mouth.

Xing Ruize's gaze lingered on that smile for two seconds, then he looked away.

"Board," he said.

The Yuanxing's bridge had room for seven or eight people to work at once.

Consoles, screens, and comms equipment lined the curved forward cabin. Right now, besides their six-person team, two pilots sat up front, running final pre-launch checks.

George claimed a seat in the corner as soon as he boarded.

He patted the empty seat next to him and waved An Yi over. "An Yi, come sit here!"

An Yi walked over and sat down next to him.

Ma Zhiye walked over with a blank face and sat down on An Yi's other side.

George glanced at Ma Zhiye, but Ma Zhiye didn't look back.

Cheng Hong leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed, looking like he was catching up on sleep.

Jiang Biao sat behind the pilot and started chatting with him.

Xing Ruize stood at the front of the bridge, back to everyone, staring out the forward viewport.

Outside the viewport, the space station's silhouette was slowly receding. The massive ring structure looked stunning against the starfield, and the berth lights swept past the viewport one by one, faster and faster.

The Yuanxing was pulling away from the berth, heading toward the exit.

"Taking off," the pilot's voice crackled over the comm. "Estimated four hours to the jump lane, thirty-six hours to the Third Star Sector outpost."