In Marvel, people are slime Chapter 181

Character name suggestions: (Yondu), (Star-Lord), (Ego), (Kraglin), (Laimu), (Old Ross)

A space fleet, consisting of dozens of ships, was neatly parked in front of a void. They varied in style, and it was clear at a glance that they had undergone many modifications.

However, these ships were all older models; you couldn’t expect marauders to have enough money to acquire a state-of-the-art fleet, or they wouldn’t be marauders.

That’s right, these ships belonged to Yondu’s crew.

He was leading a few hundred of his men, planning to travel to Planet Ego via a space jump point to capture Star-Lord and hand him over to the Kree for a bounty.

Well, that was the official story.

The so-called space jump point was a fixed location where space was weaker, found in every star system. Spaceships could relatively easily use phase engines to compress space here, performing superluminal space jumps.

Because of this, all space jump points became important nodes in space navigation routes.

Laimu’s Everlasting ship never took these fixed routes. Powered by a pseudo-Space Stone as its engine, the Everlasting could smoothly and comfortably travel through space anytime, anywhere.

In the main control room, Yondu sat properly in front of the console, carefully fastening his seatbelt.

During space travel, space would be continuously stretched by the phase engine, and the rapidly changing space would cause extreme gravity fluctuations.

This rapid change in gravity could be quite stimulating for the small bodies of mammals. Not fastening the seatbelt could even lead to a fatal fall, especially since older model ships usually weren’t equipped with corresponding control devices.

“Everyone, are you all strapped in tight? Use all the strength you use in bed to tie yourselves down!”

Yondu asked with a chuckle over the comms, his voice full of vigor. Soon, he received affirmative replies from all ships.

But his blue face was reflected on the screen in front of him, and his eyes held a hidden urgency and worry.

He took a breath, flicked a few buttons on the console, and then pulled down a lever.

“Alright, prepare, 3, 2, 1, initiate space jump!”

In space, a honeycomb-structured plane appeared out of thin air. Dozens of ships transformed into streaks of light one by one, passing through the plane and disappearing. The honeycomb plane also vanished after all the ships were gone.

A violent jolt instantly hit the ship. The distortion and stretching of space made Yondu and the pilot beside him also become distorted. Gravity began to jump erratically, and they could only grit their teeth and endure the discomfort.

This was perfectly normal. Yondu had been flying in space for decades, jumped countless times, and was more than familiar with it, never having had a single accident.

But… accidents always happen.

Soon after the jump had just begun, a figure opened the main control room door and stumbled in.

“Who… is that? Didn’t you damn… well… fasten your… seat… belt?”

Under the distortion of space and the chaos of gravity, Yondu couldn’t make out who the dark figure reflected on the screen was. He grimaced as he questioned.

However, the dark figure didn’t respond. He stumbled, falling several times, struggling to get closer to Yondu’s back.

A bright flash of a blade suddenly appeared. Yondu’s heart leaped in alarm, his lips moved, but he couldn’t whistle a complete tune!

During a space jump, even speaking was difficult, let alone whistling a specific frequency?

Then, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his head, his vision went black, and he completely lost consciousness.

…

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

The blackness in his eyes continuously dissipated, and light returned to Yondu’s world, but his ears were still ringing.

When he struggled to open his eyes, he saw the familiar prison bars—red, rusty.

This was where he often kept his targets and traitors.

But now, he himself was inside.

Yondu somewhat dazedly got up, reaching to touch his throbbing head.

There was a long, narrow wound on his head, his headpiece was split in two, surrounded by semi-coagulated blue bloodstains, some of which had gotten on his hand.

Yondu looked at the bloodstains on his hand and finally remembered that someone had attacked him during the space jump.

The dark figure had struck him on the forehead with a knife… he hadn’t been killed, probably saved by the chaotic gravity and the mental amplifier in his headpiece.

After his vision, his hearing slowly returned to Yondu.

Some rampant and crazy laughter entered the prison cell, along with extremely resentful and frustrated curses, or timid and cowardly pleas for mercy.

Yondu was very familiar with those voices. He moved to the side of the bars, leaning against them to look around the corner.

There were some madmen there, drinking and killing people.

One group laughed and cursed, wantonly beating another group, throwing them alive into space to freeze to death.

Slowly, only one person remained among those being tortured.

That face, Yondu knew all too well—it was Old Ross, who had been with him for decades.

Back then, the arrogant and foolish him had just been exiled from the team and met Old Ross, who was then a slave apprentice—he was a middle-aged man back then, now he was the chief engineer, and he had indeed grown old…

Right before Yondu’s eyes, the white-haired old fellow lay on the ground, his already bruised face taking a few more kicks. But he was still stubbornly cursing something—too far away, Yondu couldn’t hear clearly.

As Old Ross was also thrown into space, a burst of wild cheers erupted from the crowd. Then, having vented their frustrations, they soon scattered, clutching their liquor bottles.

Yondu painfully closed his eyes, thinking with some self-mockery, if his head wasn’t still worth something, he could now go join his old friends in space, couldn’t he?

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad?

The wound on his head began to crack as he clenched his teeth, a trickle of blue blood slid down his lowered face, dripping onto the ground with a faint splat.

It was all his fault back then… too foolish… too eager to expand… found these traitors, ungrateful freeloaders…

Just as Yondu was immersed in pain and helplessness, a faint splat sounded in front of him… it wasn’t until a pair of brown leather boots appeared through the bars that he realized someone had come.

Yondu slowly looked up. Outside the bars was a somewhat youthful face. It was his most trusted first mate, Kraglin—standing perfectly fine right there, in front of him.

The young man stared at him steadily, his lips tightly pressed—there was a slight stubble of green beard around his mouth—his eyes were red-rimmed, full of pain and sorrow.

“I didn’t want to… but they killed all my friends…”

“I didn’t mean to betray you!”

The young man’s voice carried a faint sob. He clenched his fists tightly, trembling slightly.