Lord of Dragon Fruit

The desire for life lies in reproduction, and the core beneath reproduction is survival.

After more than thirty thousand years of evolution, humanity has become fundamentally different from those ancestors who could only gaze at the stars from a tiny, broken planet. Yet, no matter how their genes have been altered, high-calorie deep fried food has always been the most enticing delicacy on the human table.

From the nobles of the Hive City to the residents of the under-hive, and even the Space Marine under the command of the Master of Mankind, everyone loves these crispy, succulent chunks of meat that are high in calories and taste divine.

Vulcan Vokan, who had landed on Nightfall Star, had never seen a chicken, let alone the giant, Dreadnought-sized mutant chickens of the Serene World, but that did not mean he was afraid to try.

For some reason, the moment he laid eyes on this giant with Blonde Hair, a sense of ease he had never felt before welled up in Vulcan's heart, as if the person before him were a long-lost relative.

Especially those eyes, filled with an indescribable meaning.

Taking a few strides, Vulcan found himself involuntarily walking up to the stall and accepting the Golden Chicken Leg handed to him by Mordred Wayne.

The crispy skin shattered at the first bite, releasing a gush of succulent meat juices that stimulated the barren taste buds of the black big guy, who had never eaten anything good in his life.

"Another one!"

"Of course, you can eat as much as you want, as long as you can stomach it. Rambo, don't even think about sneaking a bite; you aren't allowed to eat anymore today. Go haul over the rest of the chicken; our guest seems to have a massive appetite."

Mordred felt no psychological burden in docking his own dog's rations. At Rambo's current size, if he kept eating, he might just drop dead from high cholesterol one day, and he still wanted the dog to provide for his retirement.

While the dog was busy moving ingredients, Mordred lifted the lid of the cooler beside him and handed Vulcan an Iced Watermelon he had prepared in advance.

The dark green rind of the watermelon pleased the big guy, and the chill, so different from the ambient temperature of Nightfall Star, delighted him even more. He cracked it open with his large hand and swallowed it whole, rind and all, savoring that rare, refreshing sensation.

"What kind of fruit is this? I've never seen it before. And you aren't a local, are you?"

"You've got a sharp eye! I brought this specifically for you. If you want more, I have plenty." Mordred took the ingredients, wiped the grease off his hands on Rambo's head, and retorted while frying the chicken:

"By the way, how did you figure out I wasn't a local?"

Vulcan didn't answer, thinking to himself that we locals don't have anyone as pale as you, and besides, even if my eyes are a bit red, I'm not blind!

Standing in the shadow of the Stormbird, the Lord of Fire pondered for a moment, pointing at himself and then at Mordred, who was not much shorter than him.

"I have never seen a giant other than myself in this world, and you are the first. Furthermore, I recognize this flying craft; that was not a pleasant experience.

However, I can feel that you harbor no malice toward me, and there is even a sense of inexplicable familiarity."

Vulcan did not fully voice his inner thoughts. Compared to his overly rugged physique, the giant possessed an extremely delicate heart. He not only felt a sense of familiarity with Mordred but also a very abrupt sense of shame.

That's right, shame.

Vulcan didn't know why he would feel guilty toward a stranger he had only met once, but he had seen a similar look before, and the owner of that look was named En Bel, his adoptive father.

A hypothesis emerged in Vulcan's mind, growing stronger by the moment. Yet, being a kind-hearted man, Vulcan did not confront him, choosing instead to ask about his missing kin.

"So, why did you send people to capture my people? Given that you can appear here without a sound, it means you or the forces behind you can roam the stars at will.

Why? It couldn't possibly be to throw them into some hellhole to play a death game, could it?"

As soon as the words left his lips, a bead of cold sweat appeared on Mordred's forehead, and he began to look guilty.

This scene did not escape Vulcan's eyes, and then he heard Mordred explain:

"Actually, this is a misunderstanding. How could I do such a thing? Besides, I didn't capture them; it was a group of lawless pirates. I have already rescued those people, and it was from them that I learned of your existence."

For Mordred, fooling people was as easy as eating or drinking; after all, he could always find some excuse to justify himself.

In his eyes, apart from his own legion, everyone else was just an NPC in a game. He had already fed them, so why shouldn't he be allowed to fool them?

Because of his foresight, Mordred had no affection for the Primarch or the rest of the galaxy, viewing them all as a bunch of giant babies, a group of idiots who courted death for no reason.

Take the Necron, the ceiling of physical technology, for example. They looked incredibly badass, but in reality, at least half the reason the Warp turned into a cesspit was their fault.

Yet, in the end, the Necron's approach was to play dead, thinking they could go back to sleep and come back to reap the rewards once the Warp recovered naturally.

But the problem was that Vulcan was different. He was a rare clear stream in this cesspit, a truly good person. Doing an Unethical Deed like persecuting an honest man made Mordred feel suddenly uncomfortable.

Seeing Mordred's expression change, Vulcan turned to ask another question:

"Then why did you only come now? My..."

Mordred couldn't answer this at all. He had delayed so long purely to control public opinion and package himself as a good guy; reaching Nightfall Star in two weeks was already his fastest speed.

But his silence was taken by Vulcan as a form of admission, which made the black big guy feel a wave of depression.

"So, you appearing now... is it to compensate me? Father."

"Huh? What compensation? I told you, it wasn't me~

Wait a minute...

What did you call me? Who is your Father? I warn you, don't curse me! I don't want to sit on some broken toilet."

Now it was Vulcan's turn to be stunned. The two big guys stared at each other, both Realized that they had misunderstood something.

Only Rambo, off to the side, didn't care at all. Along with the locals of Nightfall Star, he stared with longing eyes at the delicious fried chicken floating up and down in the oil pot.

"Boss, I'm hungry again."

"Shut up." ×2

After a brief silence, a palm reached out, and Mordred spoke first:

"Let's have a formal introduction. I am Mordred Wayne, Lord of Atlas of the Second Legion, and your second brother. I am not that old man Neos, and our biological Father is probably on the front lines hacking away at xenos."

Bai Zhi's palm was gripped by another large black hand, shaking it vigorously.

"Vulcan Vokan, as you can see, a simple blacksmith from Nightfall Star. It's just that I don't have a legion, nor do I have a title as cool as yours, Brother."

The two giants smiled at each other, simultaneously ignoring the blunder that had just occurred, displaying the harmony of brothers, which drew cheers from the crowd of onlookers who were unaware of the situation.

However, not everyone felt excited about this. A middle-aged man wearing local Nightfall Star attire was hiding in a dark corner, looking at the scene with a bitter face, muttering something to himself.

"Damn it, I'm late!"