Belobog Grand Hotel.
The vast lobby, aside from the occasional staff member passing by and a handful of guests from other civilizations, was nearly empty—there were no more visitors left waiting for arrangements.
Those who arrived today had quickly learned that both the Empire’s Governor and the Supreme Guardian of Jarilo had no plans to meet with anyone at the moment. Surprisingly, rather than showing dissatisfaction, they all responded with understanding and grace. After handing over their gifts to Pela, they went about their business without a single complaint.
“Lady Pelageya, that concludes today’s work. The number of arriving guests in the coming days isn’t particularly overwhelming. You should take a proper rest and leave the arrangements to me.”
Inside the lounge, two figures sat across from each other at a tea table. One of them, noticing the other’s exhaustion, offered to take over the workload for the next few days.
“The Governer entrusted me with such an important task. How could I possibly disappoint his expectations?”
Pela cradled the warm cup in her hands, taking a small sip. “Besides, it’s not that I’m overworked… I just stayed up late reading something. By choice.”
She lifted her head, meeting the sly, fox-like gaze of the woman across from her before continuing, “The Governer’s kindness is immeasurable. If my personal shortcomings were to delay progress, I would find it deeply regretful.”
“Then, please make sure to rest well today and keep your energy up.”
Phantylia’s lips curved into an easy smile as she refilled Pela’s cup with freshly brewed tea. She wasn’t surprised by Pela’s reaction—in fact, this was precisely the response she had expected.
While Phantylia had been out wreaking havoc on her missions, Pela had celebrated her birthday.
Yet, instead of presenting his gift during the gathering, Chen Lin had chosen to give it to her in private, after the celebration had ended.
And what was the gift?
Pela hadn’t kept it a secret. She had openly shared it with anyone who asked.
It was the most precious gift she had ever received in her life.
—A data disk containing her mother’s lost letters.
Letters that her mother had written to her.
For years, Pela had only been able to learn about her mother through the records kept in Kreper Palace. But now, she had another way—one far more intimate.
Aside from Phantylia, who had been present when Chen Lin contacted the Luofu’s Divination Commission, no one knew exactly how he had managed to recover the disk.
Even so, Phantylia had been astonished.
That disk had been missing for nearly twenty years. And data disks—especially delicate ones like that—were highly susceptible to decay. They didn’t just withstand the erosion of time, nor the ravages of harsh environments.
For Pela, receiving this long-lost keepsake was like unlocking a part of her heart that had been buried away.
Every night, she reread those letters, picturing the moments when her mother had written them.
Phantylia, however, found this kind of sentiment difficult to comprehend.
To her, there was no concept of “parents”—only “kin.”
Take, for instance, a certain young fox-eared girl in the Xianzhou diplomatic mission. She carried a tail with her at all times, its crude disguise unable to fool Phantylia’s discerning eyes. If her senses were correct, that tail was a fragment of Dazui Yangliaoyuan.
The moment she had seen it, Phantylia had nearly bolted on instinct.
She had been terrified of being recognized.
Fortunately, at the time, her body had fully merged with her mortal vessel, sparing her from exposure. A stroke of luck, really. Otherwise, she might have ruined Chen Lin’s plans—and that was something she could never allow.
Pela finished the last sip of her tea and stood up.
“I will. You should rest well too, Chief Guard. I’m heading over to see if the young lady needs any assistance.”
Phantylia’s smile deepened.
She was beginning to lose track of how many women might become her future mistress.
So she had simply decided to get along with all of them.
“Take care. The Governer asked me to inspect the Psionic Legion’s rehearsal today.”
With that, Pela took her leave. Phantylia casually relayed a few instructions to the staff before making her way outside.
Bored on her walk, she pulled out her phone and started scrolling through the news.
As expected, Chen Lin’s upcoming Grand Military Parade was dominating the headlines. Many foreign media outlets were speculating about the Empire’s true motives behind the event, and conspiracy theories were running rampant.
And the comment sections?
A dazzling display of humanity’s finest in the interstellar era.
“The Empire has been around for just over a year. This grand military parade is clearly meant to showcase its power—to deter the lackeys of Destruction from stirring up trouble. Let’s not forget, a Stellaron once crashed there.”
“Has anyone considered that the Empire might be using this parade to boost its reputation? They’ve recently established connections with both the IPC and the Xianzhou. Maybe it’s all part of a strategy to monopolize trade with them and rake in profits.”
“Oh, please. The IPC already operates on monopolies. A military parade is just a show of force. If you ask me, it’s nothing but glorified violence. What’s worse, the IPC is forcing all their media outlets to broadcast it live. Just imagine all the children watching this—what a terrible influence!”
“Exactly! Peace is the foundation of progress. Just look at those war-mongering civilizations—none of them ever end well! Take our Nevorzebe Confederation, for example. We’ve never held a military parade. We don’t even have an army—just a police force, and that’s more than enough.”
“Brother, I hear you! Our civilization is just as peace-loving. Those war-ravaged nations can’t even feed their people properly. Millions die every day, while we live in harmony. We work only twelve hours a day, and that’s enough to keep our families fed and comfortable. These savages wouldn’t understand true happiness.”
“Which civilization are you from, brother? Ours works an hour more than yours.”
“Tazur Will Civilization. Sigh… It’s a hard life.”
Phantylia’s eyes gleamed as she tapped on the last comment and typed out a reply.
“As an unbiased third party, let’s be real here—Tazur Will is just that kind of turtle-in-its-shell civilization. When the Nevorzebe Confederation gets bullied, at least they complain about it. But when Tazur Will gets pushed around, they take it out on their own people and proudly call it ‘maintaining peace.’~”
After sending off a few more provocative replies, Phantylia gleefully sat back to enjoy the show.
Sure enough, within moments, the comment section erupted into chaos. The debate had devolved into a full-scale war between factions—pro-foreign, xenophobic, pacifist, militarist—each side furiously attacking the others.
Phantylia let out a chuckle.
She had always found it amusing to browse the universal network, reading the absurd perspectives from different civilizations. But what truly entertained her was stirring the pot—pinning just the right labels onto these discussions, throwing in a few well-placed jabs, and watching the entire thread descend into madness.
You poor fools. Sitting here, arguing over nonsense. By the time you all realize the Empire’s territories have expanded beyond control and its power is utterly unstoppable… will it even matter anymore?
Just as Phantylia was delighting in her usual pastime—sowing discord and fanning the flames of interstellar drama—her foot suddenly slipped into nothingness.
In an instant, she stumbled forward and found herself inside the [The Shroud].
She blinked, utterly dumbfounded, as she took in her surroundings.
Everything looked familiar yet strange.
No, too familiar.
It was Changle Heaven—a perfect one-to-one replica of the Xianzhou’s most bustling city.
Yet something was off.
The ever-present psionic mist drifting through the air—Changle Heaven had nothing like this. Even Belobog, with its newfound connection to psionics, had never contained such a dense concentration of energy.
And unlike the real Changle Heaven, which was always teeming with people, this place was eerily silent.
It was then that Phantylia realized—
This can only be the Master’s Shroud.
Her mind raced. She hadn’t stepped through a portal. She hadn’t been summoned by the Master.
So how had she been dragged into The Shroud?
Before she could piece together an answer, an unsettling sensation crawled up her spine.
She felt eyes on her.
A presence behind her.
An unnatural gaze.
A chill shot through her body, and she instinctively prepared to strike.
“Who—? Ah! Master! You called for me?”
Spinning around, Phantylia came face to face with Chen Lin.
In his arms was a red-eyed little girl.
Despite never having seen this child before, Phantylia forced down the overwhelming sense of discomfort gnawing at her instincts. Her expression shifted instantly, smoothing into a pleasant smile.
This was a skill she had long mastered.
She could be ruthless to others, but when it came to her Master, she had to maintain the utmost respect.
Chen Lin waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing major. [The Shroud] has finished its ascension. It’s gained a few new features, and since you have a connection to it, I wanted to test something on you.”
“…Test something?”
“Yeah. Your physical form contains a large amount of psionic essence from [The Shroud]. That’s why there’s a link. I can now summon you here without needing to bring you in myself.”
Phantylia dumbly nodded, still processing this information.
Before she could question why Chen Lin was making such a big deal out of this, he gently set down the girl in his arms.
“And while we’re on the subject, I need you to meet someone. You spend a lot of time here, so it’s best to introduce you two—just to avoid any… accidents.”
Phantylia blinked. “You mean… this little girl?”
She couldn’t sense any power fluctuations from the child at all.
She felt like an ordinary little human.
“Shi Sha, come say hello,” Chen Lin crouched down, patting the girl’s head gently. “She’ll be visiting often from now on.”
“Okay.”
Shi Sha nodded eagerly.
With her delicate, pitifully sweet demeanor, she was impossible to resist.
At least, Chen Lin couldn’t resist.
Honestly, having a strange Shroud God as a daughter wasn’t so bad—aside from the minor inconvenience that she couldn’t leave Shroud.
He had tried countless times to take her out.
Each attempt failed.
No matter what he did, some invisible barrier kept her confined to the realm, preventing her from crossing over.
That said, Shi Sha could change her appearance.
When Chen Lin had asked her to grow cat ears, she had immediately sprouted a pair of soft, fluffy, jet-black ears—a perfect match for her dark hair.
They twitched.
They were incredibly pleasant to the touch.
And Chen Lin had a lot of fun playing with them.
She was obedient too. Whatever he asked, she complied without hesitation.
But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
Chen Lin had also discovered a new policy in his system menu:
[Activate Eater of Worlds]
It required 50 units of [Zro Dust] to activate.
Its description?
“Select a sacrifice for the Eater of Worlds.”
One unit of [Zro Dust] equated to one kilogram in the real world.
Fifty kilograms wasn’t an astronomical amount—but it wasn’t a trivial sum either. Especially since he was already funneling [Zro Dust] into fleet enhancements.
For now, he decided against activating it.
It’s probably just a feature to let my eldest daughter eat things… Maybe I get to choose people? Or an entire space sector? Or a planet?
Chen Lin wasn’t sure.
But he knew better than to waste resources on curiosity. He would save it for when the need arose.
For now, there was something else to take care of.
He needed to introduce Shi Sha to Bronya and the others.
If they ever needed to take refuge in [The Shroud], it was best that she recognized them beforehand—just to avoid any unfortunate accidents.
For now, though—
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Chen Lin said. “I’m heading out to bring the others here. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
“Bye-bye, Daddy!” Shi Sha waved cheerfully.
…Daddy?
Before Phantylia could react, Chen Lin vanished.
And then—
Shi Sha was suddenly standing right in front of her.
Her aura shifted—drastically.
Those dark gemstone-like eyes burned with insatiable hunger.
The sweet, harmless little girl was gone.
Phantylia’s tail bristled in sheer terror.
This hunger… this overwhelming pressure…
There was no doubt.
This was her.
The shadow behind the Master.
The being who had nearly driven Phantylia to madness with a single glance.
Shi Sha leaned in close, sniffing her.
Her soft tongue flicked against Phantylia’s cheek.
“…Big sister, you smell delicious.”
That voice—sinister and honeyed, dripping with something far too enticing—sent a chill down Phantylia’s spine.
And in that instant, she remembered.
That black sphere.
Back then, the voice that had echoed from within had carried the exact same eerie, seductive quality.
And just like before—
She couldn’t talk about it.
She didn’t know why, but every time she tried to mention its existence, her words would vanish, the memory would blur, and the process of even trying to describe it would simply… cease to exist.
So then—
Why had her own voice sounded so sweet and affectionate when she had just said “Bye-bye, Daddy”?
—A voice changer?!
Phantylia’s expression went completely blank.
This is it. I’m done. There’s nothing left for me in this world.
She had long since resigned herself to death.
This monster… Does it have some hidden agenda?
Is it planning to use the Master for something?
Master, I’m so sorry for failing you. Please… take care of yourself…
A flood of frantic thoughts stormed through her mind in an instant.
And yet—
Shi Sha didn’t devour her.
Instead, she hopped down from Phantylia’s lap.
That unsettling, bone-chilling aura dissipated.
The wicked lilt in her voice faded, replaced once again by the soft, syrupy sweetness of a little girl.
She even sounded… disappointed.
“…Never mind. If I eat you, Daddy will be mad. And I don’t want to see Daddy upset… Hmph…”
Pouting, Shi Sha plopped onto the ground with a grumble.
She resolutely averted her gaze, forcing herself to not look at Phantylia—her gaze filled with nothing but undeniable hunger.
“…Hahhh.”
Phantylia exhaled.
That was the closest thing to relief she had felt in a long, long time.
—
This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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