Cognitive Impairment

 

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Founding a nation on the spot. There was precedent for it, after all.

 

The sky was vast, the earth was vast, but the universe was vastest of all. Even though the territories of various nations were clearly demarcated, in the fringe areas where central authority could hardly reach, there still roamed quite a few interstellar traders, pirates, or anarchists.

 

These people would, from time to time, find an abandoned space station, record a video and upload it to the StarNet, declaring their independence on the spot.

 

When it came down to it, most of their demands were just about tax evasion.

 

So the Empire and the Federation had long since grown accustomed to it, and couldn’t be bothered to waste military strength clearing out these jobless drifters. Besides, you say independence, and that makes it so?

 

Was a sovereign state that easy to establish?

 

Ridiculous.

 

Without legal backing, no matter how high you jumped or how much popular support you had, you were still just an illegal gang.

 

Bai Ling called a meeting in the small cafeteria to get the team’s input, but the Association Captain shot him down with that very argument right off the bat.

 

“Establishing a nation requires heritage and legitimacy. Otherwise, why would ancient Earth’s monarchs build temples for past emperors, or fight for centuries over the title of Roman successor? In short, legitimacy is everything.”

 

What the Association Captain said did make sense.

 

“I think we should first develop steadily for a while. Once our strength grows, we can fight our way back to the Capital and legitimately take over the Empire’s government.”

 

The Association Captain proposed the most solid route.

 

This was also the path the three of them had unanimously chosen in their previous lives.

 

But only Bai Ling knew that the “while” the Association Captain mentioned would ultimately drag on for twenty years. The longer the front stretched, the more variables arose. Having lived a second life, Bai Ling absolutely would not walk that difficult old road again.

 

But if he took a new path and directly declared nationhood, where would he get the “legitimacy”?

 

Bai Ling furrowed his brow, quickly reviewing the history of the transition between the old and new Empires, when a flash of inspiration struck him.

 

“If I remember correctly, Izsu Paraiso never issued an abdication edict.”

 

At this, both Sava and the Association Captain paused. Come to think of it… was that really the case?

 

In everyone’s memory, the dynastic change had been a top-down peaceful evolution. The old emperor had neither announced his abdication nor handed over the scepter that symbolized the Empire’s supreme authority. It was simply that, overnight, Kaide had taken over governance.

 

At the time, everyone found it strange and assumed the Old Emperor was only temporarily unwell and that Kaide was managing affairs on his behalf.

 

It wasn’t until Kaide declared the Old Empire’s downfall that the masses woke from their daze and were forced to accept the irreversible collapse of the great edifice.

 

Sava asked hesitantly: “You mean, Kaide’s regime might be illegitimate?”

 

That was too absurd—no matter how he thought about it, it seemed impossible.

 

Bai Ling raised his sharp eyes: “We need someone well-versed in both the old and new Empire’s constitutions.”

 

The Association Captain: “Where are we going to find a person like that now?”

 

Bai Ling and Sava exchanged a glance, both seeing the same answer in the other’s eyes—North.

 

Back in the Omega class, North had been able to cite historical texts like counting his own treasures, leaving the brainwashing teacher sent by the palace utterly speechless. Clearly, he had some real skill.

 

Sure enough, the moment North joined the small-table meeting, he said with great enthusiasm: “If you’re bringing this up, I’m wide awake.”

 

He actually pulled out a thick stack of notebooks and began going through them with them point by point.

 

Sava was stunned: “When did you take all these notes?”

 

North opened his notebook and said with an old soul composure: “While you were snoring away in broad daylight.”

 

“…I hate you overachievers.” Sava let out an indignant coo, but that didn’t stop him from craning his neck over to look. “Hurry, let me see.”

 

Who knew how long North had been preparing these materials—he cited classics and sources with meticulous logic, even writing out from memory the long-deleted “New Empire Founding Declaration” word for word. He was practically a walking “Four Hundred Years of Imperial History.”

 

“I actually noticed a long time ago that the new Empire’s laws have a loophole. The constitution never explicitly states that it overthrew the Old Empire, meaning that, in legal theory, the Old Empire’s national sovereignty still exists.”

 

The eyes of the three birds of prey lit up.

 

North turned a page and held his notebook upright like a PowerPoint presentation for them to see. “Moreover, the Interstellar Alliance also recognizes that the sovereignty of the Waterfowl Empire follows the emperor himself. So as long as the emperor isn’t dead, sovereignty hasn’t transferred—unless he publicly hands the scepter to his successor.”

 

A flash of understanding struck Bai Ling.

 

All the conflicts that had happened between Kaide and Yu Chen in the past now had a clear explanation.

 

No wonder that stinky octopus threw a tantrum every time, yelling things like “Old snake, old snake, hand over the scepter or I’ll kill you.”

 

So without the scepter, his claim to the throne was illegitimate. If Old One ever got unhappy and swam out to whack the octopus one, he’d have every right to do so.

 

Yu Chen had deliberately kept this card in hand all along.

 

Leaving for those who came after a hope, a chance, a working loophole.

 

Bai Ling said approvingly: “What an old viper.”

 

But when he thought back to his previous life, his heart couldn’t help clenching for a moment.

 

The merman had left this loophole, perhaps hoping that one day he could set sail anew. But he was like someone hiding a bone behind a pile of trash, guarding it year after year, yet never finding a successor who understood his intent.

 

“So,” North flashed a meaningful smile, “we can bypass the new Empire entirely and inherit state power directly from The One, and then everything’s good to go.”

 

Bai Ling gave a slight nod and said flatly: “I’ll go discuss this with him.”

 

But unexpectedly, the Association Captain reached out and grabbed him, asking in a cold voice: “Are you going to make another deal?”

 

Bai Ling was taken aback: “What deal?”

 

“You know… the electric toothbrush.”

 

The Association Captain forced out the euphemism with difficulty, making Sava cackle with laughter: “What, does the word ‘sleep together’ burn your mouth or something?”

 

“You’ve reminded me,” Bai Ling dug into his pocket, fished out a pill, and casually tossed it into his mouth. “I’ll make a little preparation first.”

 

Just as well, the medicine was about to expire anyway.

 

The Association Captain’s smile vanished instantly. He asked in alarm: “What did you just take?”

 

“Egg-prevention pill.”

 

“Omegas need to take that too?”

 

Bai Ling glanced at him and explained: “In case Old One‘s in a good mood.”

 

The Association Captain asked incredulously: “…And what if he’s in a bad mood?”

 

Bai Ling thought for a moment and answered seriously: “Then I’ll take two.”

 

Association Captain: “…??”

 

He had to endure it twice?! Sacrificing himself for the greater good, venturing alone to battle the monster. As a beautiful omega, unfortunately targeted by the powerful, forced to submit under another’s body to buy benefits for everyone…

 

The Association Captain’s gaze toward Bai Ling suddenly filled with solemn respect.

 

North pretended to wipe away tears: “Ah, our Fledgling, so young, already a plaything of power.”

 

“Plaything?” Bai Ling didn’t seem to notice, rubbing his chin. “Who’s playing who, we’ve yet to see it.”

 

With that, he walked off. The ship was about to dock at the transit station, and he still needed to handle the docking controls.

 

The remaining three stared at each other. The Association Captain hesitated for a long while, then asked: “Bai Ling… does he have some kind of omega cognitive impairment?”

 

Sava draped his arm over the chair back and leaned back lazily: “Not at all. He just differentiated too late. He spent too much time as a beta, so he doesn’t have much gender awareness.”

 

“Right, come to think of it, Fledgling should be close to full differentiation now.” North recalled the timing of Bai Ling’s last differentiation.

 

Sava’s brows twitched: “Let’s hope it doesn’t happen on the ship.”

 

The Association Captain: “Why?”

 

Sava’s expression turned strange: “Why? You brought so many alpha mercenaries. The moment he differentiates, every alpha on this ship will go crazy.”

 

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With his extraordinary memory and knowledge base, North successfully squeezed into the core circle, becoming the fourth figure in the leadership.

 

In the cockpit, North recorded in the voyage log:

 

[Major Event: The First Small-Table Congress was successfully convened. Attendees: Bai Ling, Sava II, Huo Yuan, North]

 

Sava clicked his tongue in wonder: “It actually looks pretty professional.”

 

North shot him a glance, trying to keep a low profile: “How do you think I ended up in prison?”

 

“You’re a restorationist?” From the front pilot seat, Bai Ling turned his head and interjected.

 

“Eh, not exactly. I just think it’s a great thing to advance the course of history. I wanted to leave my name in the textbooks.” North recalled the past as if it were still before his eyes:

 

“Actually, I was a history lecturer at a university, hadn’t even been on the job two months. Jobs aren’t easy to come by these days, and I didn’t cherish it. In class, I got carried away with my grand speeches and ended up cursing the tyrant Kaide. The moment class ended, I was cuffed and thrown into a car.”

 

“No trial, nothing—just sent straight to prison, sentenced to life.”

 

“Right then, I knew this country was finished. Completely finished.”

 

North sighed, then suddenly shifted tone and chuckled: “But prison was a lot of fun. Everyone there was a talent, and they talked nicely. I loved it there.”

 

North was joking to lighten his hardships.

 

But in a way, he wasn’t exaggerating. Under the tyrant’s terror arrests, the prisons held all kinds of political scientists, historians, sociologists, linguists. All sharp-tongued masters at resisting the regime.

 

Word was, with all the literary inquisitions going on, they’d arrested so many people that some humanities departments in universities were being abolished.

 

With all the teachers in jail, what was there left to study?

 

One could say the place with the densest academic atmosphere in the entire Empire wasn’t the top journals or interstellar symposiums, but the little corner of the affiliated planet during the midday prsion break.

 

A bunch of people squatting there, discussing not small talk but “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” or “Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right“—leaving the guards completely baffled.

 

In ancient times there was the “Frankfurt School“; now there was the “Prison School.”

 

North said, half-seriously: “That place is great. Perfect for enlightenment and making friends. Without terminals to play with, naturally everyone’s minds ran wild with ideas.”

 

Also great for holing up and writing papers.

 

Bai Ling held the joystick in one hand, docking with Bay 584 of the transit space station with less than 0.001% margin of error, then finally relaxed his tense nerves and seriously said:

 

“Good. When we have time, we’ll hold a big recruitment fair at the prison.”

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Author’s Note:

One more update coming up.

“Everyone in prison is a talent”—a meme from the internet.

“Thus Spoke Zarathustra” (Nietzsche) and “Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right” (Marx)—books I can’t actually understand, haha.

The matter of the old merman not signing the abdication decree was mentioned in Chapter 8 and subsequent chapters.

Old Merman: (Slyly) (Gracefully) That’s right—I deliberately left a loophole, waiting to pass the throne to the Queen.

Little Bird: You lovely bitch!