He glanced back and forth at the displayed year three times before finally straightening up, fiddling with the communicator in his hand as he walked toward Eric Bennett.

Scott Harris stopped in front of Eric Bennett, and with a sudden flick of his fingers, spun the communicator around. He turned the screen displaying the message toward Eric Bennett and said, “That jailbreak announcement you sent was indeed received by this thing 27 years ago. And today, 27 years later, you sent me another message asking why I didn’t reply.”

Eric Bennett retorted irritably, “Am I crazy?”

Scott Harris: “Aren’t you?”

Eric Bennett: “……”

The mop, which was being held with both hands in a cross, saw that these two were about to start bickering again, quietly edged toward the corner, and gently turned the dining chair in front of it to use the chair back as a shield, trying to lower its presence.

Eric Bennett let out a short laugh, shook his head, and said, “Alright, whatever you say, sir. I suppose I’m a little crazy. But the sending times of those two messages were only a day apart—maybe a day and a half, but definitely not more than two days.”

Scott Harris: “Looks like the cosmic super-signal doesn’t just dislike you, it probably has a blood feud with you.”

“Let me see.” Eric Bennett reached out to touch Scott Harris’s communicator.

But before he could touch it, Scott Harris raised an eyebrow and tossed it back into his suit pocket.

“Too guarded, darling.” Eric Bennett’s fingers paused, then rested back on the edge of the table, tapping twice as if playing the piano, before continuing, “When I sent you the message, I had just jumped twice and found a place to land. But as soon as I put away the communicator, I realized that place was hurtling toward a black hole. Looks like the time flow near there was a bit—”

He stopped mid-explanation, suddenly remembering something and frowning, but quickly returned to normal and continued, “—a bit too different from yours.”

Actually, before Eric Bennett even spoke, Scott Harris had already guessed it was due to the black hole’s influence.

Although the discrepancy was indeed a bit surprising, there was no more reasonable explanation for now. Differing time flows were nothing unusual in the vast universe, so Scott Harris didn’t dwell on it. As he walked toward the cage, he casually asked, “So when exactly did you break out?”

Before Eric Bennett could answer, the prisoner in the cage spoke up first: “The day the planet blew up.”

Scott Harris couldn’t help but look back at him.

Eric Bennett spread his hands. “The base blew up, I was in a bad mood, so I went out for a walk. Perfectly normal.”

Scott Harris: “……”

Mop: “……” Go out for a walk?! Boss, do you even remember you’re a prisoner, boss?

Someone like Eric Bennett, who could spout nonsense without even blinking, was pure torture to talk to.

Scott Harris waved his hand, not bothering to respond, turned and knocked on the side of the cage, saying, “Thanks for the quick answer, but if you could tell me what exactly went wrong at the space prison, that would be even more touching.”

As he spoke, he reached out and touched the black-gold ring on the prisoner’s arm.

The black-gold ring lit up instantly at his touch, and the prisoner’s name quietly appeared at the edge.

Scott Harris glanced at it and continued, “Colton Lester, oh—so you’re the Golden Crow of Xixi City.”

The title “Golden Crow of Xixi City” was once a psychological shadow for the officials at the top of the planetary government’s pyramid. He had caused several major incidents at the United Administration Building, the White Eagle Sanatorium under direct military control, and several places on Bank Street. In total, one general, four prominent elders, and no fewer than twenty mid-level officials had died.

Those major incidents all happened within the same week, catching everyone off guard.

After that week, the structure of the planetary government underwent a moderate reshuffle. Due to the absence of responsible officials, several ongoing global projects were suspended or canceled, directly leading to the extremely chaotic situation of the following two years.

Some said it was the end of one conspiracy and the beginning of another. After all, the files on the “Golden Crow” incident later became level-9 encrypted documents. The public, lost in a sea of conflicting reports, never figured out what really happened before their attention was diverted elsewhere.

All people saw was that after the “Golden Crow Incident,” a batch of young officials was promoted.

Scott Harris joined the Security Building that year.

The prisoner’s reaction to the name “Golden Crow” was complicated—on one hand, he frowned in obvious annoyance, but on the other, he habitually lifted his chin a little, showing a subtle arrogance.

He bit at the dry skin on his lips for a while, then spoke in a hoarse voice, but instead of answering Scott Harris’s question, he said, “Don’t call me that nickname in front of me. It’s annoying.”

Scott Harris looked at him calmly for a moment, then pressed the silencer collar on his neck again. “Sorry, I prefer straightforward answers. I’m not interested in hearing people complain about irrelevant things.”

With that, he brushed the metal plate at the end with his thumb. The silencer collar’s green light instantly switched back to red and locked again.

Golden Crow: “……”

He glared at Scott Harris in silent rage: Fuck your father!