Marrying the Disabled Sentinel: Restoring His SSS Glory

Chapter 10: Humiliation

Yuan Vincent’s thighs had been severed at the very root; he was left with only half a body extending from his wheelchair, making his difference from others painfully obvious. This was precisely why he refused to share a bed with Chen Lillian.

All his desperate efforts—to maintain the illusion of normalcy, to deceive even himself—had crumbled in an instant. In front of so many people, the SS-level genius of the First Military Academy was treated like a stray chick, tossed aside for all to see.

Yuan Vincent had never felt such shame; the humiliation was so overwhelming that he wished for death.

At that moment, he slumped into Chen Lillian’s embrace. Chen Lillian didn’t look at him—nor did anyone else—and that small mercy eased his pain just a bit. Resting his head on her shoulder, their faces were nearly touching; he could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat and feel the gentle warmth of her breath on his ear.

He had never been this close to anyone before—even with his best friends. Strangely, that intimacy did not repel him; instead, it stirred within him a faint, almost tender attachment.

As Yuan Vincent began to drift into reverie, Chen Lillian kept a careful watch on the Star Pirates, monitoring their every move. When those pirates herded all the passengers together, a burly man began to speak, “Guides and Sentinels, step forward now!”

Yet no one moved.

“I’m giving you a chance—if you step forward willingly, I’ll be nice to you. But if I have to start dragging you out myself, then you’ve been warned,” the man threatened in a menacing tone.

A voice trembled from the crowd, “I—I’m a Sentinel, D-level.”

Another replied, “I’m a Guide, C-level.”

And yet another: “I’m a Sentinel, C-level.”

One after another, people began to stand up.

Chen Lillian turned to Yuan Vincent and asked softly, “Should we get up?”

Yuan Vincent bit his lip and replied, “Don’t—you stay where you are. I’ll come out on my own.”

But Chen Lillian, undeterred by his protest, raised her hand and declared, “My husband is a Sentinel.”

“Just a cripple—better to stay put,” the burly man sneered as he glanced disdainfully at Yuan Vincent—he loathed such delicate, pretty faces; to him, they were even more attractive than women.

Yuan Vincent’s expression darkened; his handsome lips pressed into a thin line. Chen Lillian gently supported his back and whispered in his ear, “Thank goodness we won’t be separated.”

In that instant, all the bitterness that had burdened Yuan Vincent seemed to vanish.

Soon, the detained Sentinels and Guides were separated and taken away. When it was the turn of a pale, chubby fellow, he burst into tears, “Waaah, please don’t take me—I come from a wealthy family! Whatever you want, my father will pay!”

His face was smeared with tears and snot. The man gripping him switched from seizing his collar to grabbing the back of his clothes and coldly ordered, “Shut up. We’re not short on money—we only need people.”

“Who exactly do you need people for?” the chubby man whimpered, even more terrified. “Are you selling organs? I have a heart condition, kidney issues, even synthetic corneas—”

Before he could finish, the burly man struck him hard on the back of the neck, “Enough noise!”

The Sentinels and Guides were then locked away separately, while the ordinary passengers were herded into groups and confined in larger spaces—gyms, dining halls, and so forth.

“They’ve changed the course,” Yuan Vincent murmured as he gazed out the window, frowning.

“How can you tell?” Chen Lillian asked curiously; to her, the vast starry sea all looked the same.

Yuan Vincent shot her a sidelong glance and asked, “Did you really get into the First Military Academy solely on your own ability?”

Chen Lillian stiffened and fell silent—the exam had been taken by the original consciousness, not her.

“They’re not short on money; they just need people. Chances are, they plan to force us into mining,” Yuan Vincent said firmly.

In an age of advanced technology and high mechanization, yet they’d still insist on manual mining? Chen Lillian was astonished but dared not ask, fearing it would expose her ignorance.

“There’s an extremely rare mineral called Blue Key Stone,” Yuan Vincent continued. “Its hardness is off the charts—it’s only as big as a soybean, entirely blue, and even more exquisite than any gemstone. Because it’s so incredibly hard and tiny, mining for Blue Key Stone is extremely difficult.”

“That must be incredibly valuable!” Chen Lillian’s eyes lit up as if she’d discovered a treasure. “Is Blue Key Stone considered a metal?”

For a moment, Yuan Vincent stared into her eyes, as if momentarily losing himself. He then averted his gaze. “It is considered metal. Its output is extremely low and it’s prohibitively expensive—there’s nothing like it on the market. Its current primary use is in medicine, serving as a lifesaving ingredient for many critical patients.”

Chen Lillian’s interest in Blue Key Stone grew even further. “So you’re saying that without the Star Pirates resorting to extortion, you’re sure we’ll be forced to mine for Blue Key Stone? Isn’t that a bit rash?”

“Not long ago, there were rumors that someone discovered a Blue Key Stone mine in the Chaotic Interstellar region,” Yuan Vincent explained.

Chen Lillian waited expectantly for him to continue, but he simply closed his eyes and fell silent. It was a pity her lightband had been confiscated by the Star Pirates—otherwise, she could have looked up more about Chaotic Interstellar.

Still not feeling sleepy, Chen Lillian spent some time gazing at the starry sea, then turned her attention back to Yuan Vincent. When she saw him beginning to slump, she reached out, catching him, and gently cradled his head on her thigh.

The gesture was intimate, yet at that moment, Chen Lillian didn’t think much beyond wanting the stubborn, pitiable youth to be comfortable. She had long noticed him trembling, his fists clenched until veins bulged—as though he were enduring unbearable pain.

Gradually, Chen Lillian closed her eyes.

In her hazy, almost out-of-body state, she found herself drifting into a dim, icy realm. She shivered and wondered: isn’t this a dream? How can I still feel cold?

What is this place?

Determined to see her surroundings clearly, she reached out with her only remaining arm to push aside the tangled “withered branches.” Though they appeared heavy and solid, upon touching her hand they turned inexplicably soft. Chen Lillian toyed with them briefly, reluctant to break them, and then neatly set them aside.

“Ugh—”

In his sleep, Yuan Vincent let out a soft murmur. Gradually, the furrows in his brow eased and his features relaxed. Meanwhile, next to him, Chen Lillian’s face grew serious and determined—as if she were engaged in something of utmost importance.

Yuan Vincent had slept soundly; indeed, this was the most comfortable sleep he’d had since losing his legs. He glanced around, then looked down at his absent legs and managed a bitter smile. Perhaps his deep, peaceful sleep was due to the spacious gym, or maybe because he now had “legs” beneath his head.

He slowly pushed his head aside, realizing that if he slept any longer, his legs might lose all sensation.

Yuan Vincent pressed his lips together, his eyes filled with regret. Perhaps he shouldn’t have slept so deeply.

The Sentinels and Guides were taken away one by one, while the ordinary passengers were clustered in groups and confined to larger spaces like the gym or the dining hall.

“They’ve changed the course,” Yuan Vincent said, frowning as he gazed out the window.

“How did you tell?” Chen Lillian asked curiously; to her, the vast starry sea looked the same everywhere.

Yuan Vincent shot her a sidelong glance. “Did you really get into the First Military Academy on your own merit?”

Chen Lillian stiffened and fell silent. (The entrance exam had been taken by the original owner—she hadn’t.)

“They’re not short on money—they just want people. Chances are they’re going to force us to mine,” Yuan Vincent said with conviction.

Now, in an age of advanced technology and high automation, they still demanded manual labor for mining? Chen Lillian was astonished but dared not ask, lest she appear ignorant.

“There’s a rare mineral called Blue Key Stone,” Yuan Vincent explained, “extremely hard, no larger than a soybean, entirely blue and more exquisite than any gemstone. Because of its extreme hardness and tiny size, mining for Blue Key Stone is very difficult.”

“That must be incredibly valuable!” Chen Lillian’s eyes lit up as if she’d seen treasure. “Is Blue Key Stone considered metal?”

Staring into her eyes, Yuan Vincent seemed momentarily lost. He averted his gaze. “Yes, it’s metal. Its output is extremely low and it’s very expensive—the market has none. It’s primarily used in medicine, a lifesaving drug for many critical cases.”

Chen Lillian’s interest in Blue Key Stone grew even more. “Are you saying that, without resorting to extortion by the Star Pirates, you’re certain we’ll be forced to mine for Blue Key Stone? Isn’t that a bit hasty?”

“Not long ago, there were rumors that someone discovered a Blue Key Stone mine in the Chaotic Interstellar region,” Yuan Vincent explained.

Chen Lillian waited expectantly for him to continue, but he fell silent—closing his eyes. It was a pity that her lightband had been taken by the Star Pirates; otherwise, she could have looked up more about Chaotic Interstellar.

Still not tired, Chen Lillian gazed at the starry sea, then looked at Yuan Vincent. When she saw him starting to slump, she reached out to catch him, resting his head on her thigh.

The gesture was intimate, but at that moment Chen Lillian wasn’t thinking about labels—she only wished for this stubborn, pitiable youth to feel more comfortable. She had long noticed his trembling, his fists clenching with bulging veins, indicating he was enduring unbearable pain.

Gradually, Chen Lillian closed her eyes.

In her half-conscious state, her awareness drifted out, and she found herself in a dim, icy place. She shivered—wondering if she was still dreaming, as she could feel the cold.

What was this place?