What they did not know was that, in that brief span of time, Sifite and the others had slipped into Homeworld under Liphia's cover.
Once inside Homeworld, they did not fly straight toward the club in broad daylight. Instead, they posed as second-generation interstellar emigrants returning to their ancestral home to trace their roots.
They could not obtain legitimate system identities in this world, but they had gotten the club owner to find them a few temporary cracked identities on the black market.
As long as the identities did not connect to the system, outsiders could see no difference in either their functions or system interfaces. They would last about a week.
These were the sorts of cracked identities many people used to sneak in and trade on the black market.
But the people who made them probably never imagined that one day, someone would use their handiwork to travel and spend money openly across Homeworld.
Sifite opened her system interface. An email notification was waiting for her. She knew it should be the information on Chen Cheng she had requested.
She opened it, but the detailed personal file she had expected did not appear. The first line that met her eyes read: Top Secret.
Sifite and the others knew what top-secret information meant in this world. It carried the highest classification, reserved for its most closely guarded secrets.
Anything classified as top secret, whether a person or a thing, could almost certainly affect the course of this world's future.
She could not understand why the man who had asked the club to find them had such a highly classified identity. Had they already been exposed?
But that made even less sense. If he knew who they were, he should have coordinated things from behind the scenes instead of coming