Reaching Claws into the Cosmos!

In the starry expanse of space, aboard The Destroyer.

This was a medium-sized spaceship with a strong steampunk aesthetic. It looked like a flattened baguette standing upright, with sheets of brown metal hammered onto its hull one rivet at a time, making it resemble scraps of fabric sewn together.

Blue flames spewed from the rear thrusters, and the cabin roared so loudly that even the seats trembled, making one seriously wonder whether it would fall apart the next second.

Yet, despite accelerating at overload for a long time, the ship remained intact all the way until it reached Black Market Planet.

"I don't know what we're doing here." The speaker was a white male standing over 1.8 meters tall, a Terran, as they were called in space. He wore a burgundy trench coat. His real name was Peter Jason Quill, though he preferred people call him... Star-Lord.

"There are way too many of our kind here, Yondu. From the port to this place, do you know how many bastards trying to steal my money I've caught?"

"They're your kind, boy." The blue Centaurian leading the group forward spoke without looking back.

"Ravagers only use this to speak."

With that, Yondu patted his waist.

His unique weapon was strapped there: a self-propelled arrow controlled through the brainwave device embedded in his head and his whistling.

"Hahahaha, that's right, boss!"

A group of Ravagers laughed as they raised their weapons.

On the filthy yet technologically advanced streets, passersby quickly gave them a wide berth.

Star-Lord, who had not yet betrayed Yondu, shook his head, shrugged, and said nothing more.

There were plenty of places in this galaxy better suited for indulgence. As the largest black market in the galaxy, they had come here for only one reason.

Taneleer Tivan, also known as: