Grandpa

How many‍⁠‍‍‍‌​⁠‌⁠​​⁠⁠​‌​‍‌‌​‍​⁠ steps does it take to start a Mothership class vessel?

“The flight log states that it takes a mere three steps: walk into the cockpit, press the small red button on the console, pull out a chair to sit down, and wait for the self-check to complete.”

Sava summarized using his grandfather’s phrasing: “A dummy’s guide.”

So here comes the question: where is the cockpit?

The small robot enthusiastically led the way, bringing them to stand before a completely blank, tiled wall in the kitchen. The two birds looked at one another, resembling magic students standing before the brick wall at Platform 9¾ for the very first time—their minds entirely stuck, thoroughly questioning reality.

“So the last time I turned on the stove to cook scrambled eggs with tomatoes, the cockpit was right on the other side of this wall…?” Bai Ling asked.

“Yes indeed,” the small robot nodded vigorously, clamping its small pliers onto the igniter to turn it back by one full spin. “This was the original design; Master made no modifications to it.”

In a flash, the tiled camouflage vanished into thin air, morphing into a sliding, sleek, hyper-futuristic door.

Sava stood open-mouthed: “I don’t understand it, but I am profoundly shaken.”

How absurd did a design have to be to place a kitchen right outside the critically vital cockpit!

As the small robot waddled inside, it raised its pliers in utter seriousness: “In truth, this represents a groundbreaking design. The Vermilion Bird possesses a fire attribute within Eastern culture, and leaning against a stove carries the symbolic meaning of enhancing combat power.”

Sava & Bai Ling: This shitty feudal superstition—we don’t buy it.

The small robot continued: “Naturally, according to historical research, the actual reason might be that the Captain and First Mate back then frequently suffered from empty stomachs. Consequently, they simply built a small kitchen here to conveniently hold bowls of noodles while issuing grand commands during battle supervision.”

Sava & Bai Ling: That makes total sense.

Furthermore, they understood clearly that the door just now led directly into the Captain’s private quarters from back in the day, representing a private corridor. Other crew members entering the cockpit normally would naturally utilize a conventional passage. Sure enough, once the cockpit lights illuminated, they stood inside the tiered chamber, their gazes sweeping over six seats arranged in front and back to instantly spot the emergency exit on the side.

The interior of the exit was pitch-black, leading to parts unknown.

The more Bai Ling examined it, the more he felt this place resembled an island, filled with diverse sectors awaiting exploration.

Sitting before the flight console to illuminate the screen, his mind was still somewhat chaotic.

The sensation was remarkably subtle, as if he had inherited an old house with an obsolete exterior, only to suddenly discover one day that a lost city was hidden inside its basement.

There was even an optical computer tossed beside the seat, draped with someone’s forgotten military dress coat, leaving behind traces of past prosperity that spanned across time.

Tapping the screen to expand the 3D structural diagram of the vessel, they uncovered a vastly more terrifying reality.

It turns out that the sectors they had traversed represented a mere one-third of the entire hull; the remaining two-thirds were folded away to the maximum extent. Those sectors belonged to the standard crew quarters, training grounds, the main mess hall, alongside a vast weapons storage bay and a mecha landing platform.

The core sector of the entire ship comprised the leadership’s living quarters and the observation deck.

Precisely—that elevated, expansive greenhouse was the exact location of the observation deck on the blueprints.

Bai Ling’s mind drifted randomly. In the future, would he be able to sip tea and admire flowers while drifting through the cosmos, using his naked eye to view the gravitational accretion ring of the Andromeda black hole?

“We need to initiate the self-check protocol and preheat the boilers,” Sava executed the sequence step-by-step according to the instructions.

Suddenly, a colossal exclamation mark popped up on the screen, the alert window flashing with a red light:

[WARNING, CODE 756: OBSERVATION DECK OUTER WALL DAMAGED!]

Bai Ling dazed for a moment, instantly recalling a severe issue. He had almost forgotten—there was still a massive hole in the glass of the greenhouse! Even if they managed to launch the ship, air would go howling through it once they took to the sky. Driving within the atmospheric layer was fine since oxygen would blow in, allowing them to barely survive. But once they breached the stratosphere and entered true outer space, the vacuum environment would cause the oxygen inside the cabin to escape instantly. When the internal and external pressure differential shifted, it might trigger a hull explosion, instantly ending the lives of everyone on board.

Sava was equally dumbfounded.

Right now, they resembled players who had just stepped out of the beginner village, picked up an epic-tier golden weapon, and before they could even rejoice, suddenly discovered that the magazine of this thing was completely broken.

“Aren’t you a repair expert? Think of something quickly,” Sava stood before the glass, pointing at the hole where the freezing wind was howling through, turning his head to demand that Bai Ling resolve it.

“Even an expert cannot manifest things out of thin air! This is a continuous fiber-reinforced medium-density heat-resistant transparent material engineered specifically for Mothership class vessels—it’s not tempered glass you can buy off any random street,” the veins at Bai Ling’s temples twitched.

Sava’s brows knit together: “Then what do we do?”

Read at Mizushi Novels

Visit Mizushi Novels

“Right here. February 1, 2379: the hull sustained a meteor impact, breaking the starboard window. Following prompt repair, it safely executed a successful return flight.”

Support the original translation

Read on Mizushi Novels

“Say what?”

Don't scrape

Great. Now a new problem has emerged: where on earth were they supposed to cross time and space to locate such a roll of magical tape?

Naturally, it wasn’t conventional tape.

Don't copy

Read at Mizushi Novels

However, while suppressant rods could be purchased off supermarket shelves, they had never heard of a tape capable of sealing a starship. This wasn’t some internet myth like “A veteran master teaches you how to fix a toilet with instant noodles,” where materials were readily available.

Visit Mizushi Novels

Support the original translation

Sava clenched his fists, his gaze unyielding: “Moved where? I’ll lead a team to strike the dragon’s lair immediately and reclaim the tape.”

Read on Mizushi Novels

Don't scrape

“I have never been so grateful for my grandfather’s habit of swiping things from ships,” half an hour later, Sava stood before the Eagle-Owl Duke’s estate, his face an unreadable mixture of emotions.

Don't copy

Read at Mizushi Novels

“…Truly a case of a doting grandfather and a filial grandson.”

Visit Mizushi Novels

Support the original translation

Bai Ling followed him into the main hall, “So using such an expensive material, did you get an A?”

Read on Mizushi Novels

Don't scrape

Sava recalled: “Because after ten hours, that adhesive turns into a liquid, sticking to everything it can touch and solidifying into a rock-hard block that can’t even be scraped off.”

Don't copy

Read at Mizushi Novels

In short, his nerves were thicker than aerospace building materials.

Visit Mizushi Novels

Support the original translation

[STATE SECRET, DO NOT OPEN]

“Oh, that’s the Vermilion Bird design blueprints I mentioned. There are twenty-five boxes in total—are we taking them?” Sava noted, following his gaze.

“Of course we’re taking them.” These blueprints represented the painstaking labor of generations; rather than leaving them in a warehouse to be eaten by moths, it was vastly better to bring them to the Wild Planet to flourish.

“What about my grandfather’s lifetime accumulation of notes? Those too?”

“Take as many as there are.” The experiences of a senior predecessor—take them back to study and research thoroughly.

Bai Ling looked at Sava, displaying a faint, satisfied smile.

Sava felt somewhat creeped out by his gaze, the fine white hairs along his neck standing erect: “What kind of look is that?”

Bai Ling offered a rare, genuine evaluation: “Sava, when you’re not being unlucky, you actually look quite a bit like a lucky star.”

Sava rolled his eyes: “Listening to your words is like listening to shit.”

Besides, when had he ever been unlucky? Growing up to his current age, aside from encountering that rotten jellyfish, everything else could be considered smooth sailing; this smelly bird was undoubtedly mocking him again.

Scouring away everything of value inside the warehouse, Sava began packing his personal belongings.

Since they were going on a long journey, and highly likely never returning, he naturally had to pack enough clothing and supplies, along with his grandfather’s precious relics.

“Hold this for me—it’s my grandfather’s medal box,” Sava handed over an iron box.

Bai Ling looked closely and laughed. It was actually a butter cookie box. Shaking his wrist, a crisp, pleasant metallic clinking echoed from within the box, like the soul of a person singing.

Sava opened his bedroom door. The sheer luxury of the interior decoration caused Bai Ling to fall silent for a moment.

Bai Ling couldn’t help but marvel: “You truly are a young master.”

Blame it on this chicken acting far too rough on standard days, making him constantly forget that the other party actually hailed from a decorated noble family.

“This was all my parents’ squandering. They used my grandfather’s savings to purchase quite a lot of things,” when talking about his parents, Sava’s tone turned subtly flat.

Bai Ling opened a door at random, spotting an individually parked rectangular sleeping pod, and noted in shock: “You actually have your own medical pod?”

Sava was folding clothes, turning his head to steal a glance: “Yes, but sitting inside that thing is far too stuffy. For minor physical injuries, it’s better to wait for cell autogenous healing. I only use it occasionally to do my nails.”

“Do what?”

“You don’t hire a technician to come to your door and grind your nails?” This time, it was Sava’s turn to be shocked. “Please, are you even a raptor or not?”

Bai Ling fell silent for a moment, offering a forced explanation: “I grind mine.”

“How do you grind them? Using a file?”

Bai Ling turned his face toward the ceiling, grumbling internally: Naturally using the old alpha’s back muscles—it works exceptionally well.

Scanning with his peripheral vision, he discovered Sava stuffing sunscreen into his bag: “Do you have to be this refined? Young master.”

“How is this refined?! A place like the Wild Planet will burn your skin off!”

Burn skin off? Bai Ling suddenly recalled something—right, the Wild Planet possessed only deserts and golis, with an extreme scarcity of water sources. If those beautiful fish scales went there, they would certainly peel too…

“Also this—for you,” Sava tossed over a cylindrical box.

Bai Ling opened it to look. It was a pair of sunglasses, a large aviator frame. Sava picked up a pair for himself and put them on, propping them up with his knuckles as he lifted his head vainly toward the mirror: “This young master is still so handsome.”

…Completely looking like he was heading to the desert for a vacation.

Bai Ling picked up a large straw hat offhandedly, placing it on his head, and said to Sava: “Bringing this many things aboard the ship, I’ll have to charge you for fuel.”

“Aren’t those blueprints enough to cover it for you, you insatiably greedy bird?!”

Bai Ling braced his arms, adopting a negotiating posture: “I can refrain from charging you money, and I can even summon two mechas over to help you move your stuff, but I have one condition.”

Sava pressed his knee against the trunk, pulling the zipper shut forcefully: “Speak.”

“Give me that hat. Also, spare me some of your sunscreen, I need a moisturizing one.” Bai Ling smiled faintly.

Sava was about to speak when he suddenly heard a faint humming sound overhead. He tensed up, his ear-feathers instantly standing on end. “Oh no, I forgot—Heinz owns the estate now. I can hear his aircraft entering the hangar; we have to go, quick!”