Matt Horner

New Canaan is a prosperous and bustling land. The first generation of ambitious Taradorn established this young but vibrant city on the coast of the Emerald Sea. Its excellent geographical location and all-weather starport attracted colonists from all over Tyrador IV, wealthy people from the nine nearby prime worlds, and middle-class people with emigration tendencies.

Unlike other core worlds with their towering skyscrapers and linearly distributed modular towns, this place features wooden and stone houses with exceptional texture and character, architectural styles rarely seen in any other human era.

In the commercial district of New Canaan's city center, wide streets are paved with irregularly patterned colorful tiles and painted wooden planks, lined with lush, verdant trees. Behind the sturdy tree trunks are shops adorned with handicrafts, crystal windows, and attractive men and women. New Canaan's shop owners enthusiastically sell souvenirs, local wines, pets, and other goods they can source from various channels to visitors.

Even in this era, interstellar travel and vacations spanning multiple astronomical units and star systems are reserved for the wealthy. Of course, if someone from an impoverished background manages to scavenge a single-person spaceship with a warp drive from a junkyard and find a few barrels of low-quality crude gas fuel to fly out of the star system, the rest depends on whether they are lucky enough.

The pedestrians on New Canaan Street Tyrador IX, were all well-dressed, elegant, and wealthy people, possibly from tens of parsecs away (a cosmological unit of distance used to measure the length of objects outside the Solar System; one parsec is equivalent to 3.26 light-years). Many of them were young couples on their honeymoon, and traces of laser cosmetic surgery were visible on their faces to varying degrees.

Walking along the streets of New Canaan at night, bathed in the gentle sea breeze, young Matt Horner Matt Horner knew that the wealth of every glamorous man and woman who passed by him likely exceeded the combined assets of the Holt Family's businesses. But Matt Horner didn't need to care; after all, his chances of inheriting the family business were slim to none.

The Horner Family is a local small business family, considered middle class, owning their own house and Hover Car in New Canaan. As the second son in the family, Matt Horner Matt Horner grew up in an environment that, while not affluent, provided he had enough to eat and wear. Unlike many young people in the Edge World of the Terran Confederacy, he didn't have to drop out of school early, either in middle or high school, to struggle for a living.

Like many young people of his age on Tyrador IX, fifteen-year-old Matt Horner Matt Horner is at the most confused stage of his life. Matt Horner never has to worry about what to eat next or how to fill his stomach, but the choices he has in life are also few.

Like Matt Horner, young people in Taradorn either find local jobs after graduating from high school or choose to pursue higher education. In the past, the wealthiest Taradorn would send their children to universities like Tarsonis or Korhal IV, but Matt Horner must rely on his own efforts and scholarships.

Now, a very common worry is deeply troubling young Matt Horner: he doesn't know what he should do in the future or what kind of career he should pursue. Whether to stay in Taradorn, wait for the day he can follow in his father's footsteps, or choose to study at a university in Tarsonis, Matt Horner already has the answer in his heart. After all, he firmly believes that he absolutely cannot stand the idle and unchanging life in his hometown.

From a very young age, Matt Horner loved to sit by the sea and gaze at the ocean, his eyes glued to the luxury yachts, moored boats, and cruise ship hotels along the coast. Perhaps every boy, when looking at the sea, harbors a fantasy of setting sail on a long voyage. But even the ocean has its limits; only the vast Sea of Stars is the final destination for all adventurers of this era.

In the interstellar age of Koprulu, some people never left the land beneath their feet from birth to death, while others knew from birth that their destiny was to roam freely among the Sea of Stars.

This day was no different for Matt Horner; he had plenty of time to wander around before spring break ended. Heading north through the central shopping street of New Canaan lay the world-famous Emerald Sea, with its beautiful sailboats and seaplanes.

The Horner Family wasn't a particularly strict clan, and Mrs. Matt Horner never stipulated what time the children had to return home. After all, compared to his father and brothers, Matt Horner had always been a peaceful and quiet person. He harbored a dream of defying gravity and entering the stars, but he was never swayed by distant dreams. His earnestness, pragmatism, and down-to-earth approach were the fundamental reasons why the Horner Family was able to establish itself on the Tyrador IX during the Colonial Era.

The walk through the shopping street was long, but Matt Horner didn't mind broadening his life experience by meeting all sorts of people; the lively sounds of the crowd allowed him to feel a touch of change in his monotonous daily life.

Deep within the commercial street, the neon signs and dazzling lights of the shops illuminated Matt Horner's vision, transforming it into a radiant world. Further ahead, black iron railings separated the affluent residential area from the commercial district, with tamed wild animals and security personnel armed with C-20A shotguns and P-40 submachine guns guarding the boundary between the two.

Just then, Matt Horner heard the sound of orderly footsteps. Among the pedestrians on the shopping street, a squad of Confederate Marine Corps in light brown Power Armor was walking briskly past.

These Confederate Marine Corps, all clad in freshly painted CMC-200 Power Armor and wielding C-14 Gauss Rifle, were tall and imposing, able to take long strides with the aid of a servo system. Their gleaming, oil-like armor bore the insignia of unicorns, indicating their affiliation with the Tyrador Knights, a well-equipped colonial defense force.

The Confederacy's Marines have always been renowned on various planets for their invincibility, while the Marines of Taradorn have an even more noble mission—to enhance the protection of the wealthy districts of New Canaan.

The Taradorn Knights, clad in "Knight Armor," are different from those warriors who have undergone resocialization. They all come from local families and retain their complete personalities.

Strictly speaking, the Tyrador Knights are merely the planetary defense force of the Taradorn System. Their predecessor was simply the militia of this system. They are not even under the jurisdiction of the Confederacy Army, but are directly under the governor of the Taradorn System.

Having never experienced war in over a century, the Tyrador Knights often took on jobs that could earn them extra income. The order served the wealthy, large merchants, and nobles, and their business covered a wide range of areas, including providing private protection for dignitaries on hunting trips or acting as beach lifeguards.

Like the security guards in the slums, the Tyrador Knights only served the wealthy or powerful—or both. Among the Taradorn, the Taradorn didn't have a good reputation; those who enjoyed criticizing the situation often referred to the Tyrador Knights as "stilt-walking crabs," a sarcastic reference to their gleaming armor and laughable fighting prowess.

The knights walked past Matt Horner, hurrying into the distance without stopping to glance at him. Judging from their hurried manner, they were either rushing to put out a fire in the wealthy district of New Canaan or desperately trying to rescue some tycoon's pet cat that had climbed a tree.

Matt Horner couldn't help but envy the gleaming armor. He turned to look at the small squad of Tyrador Knights walking away behind him, hoping he'd have the chance to wear it someday. It wasn't that Matt Horner was like some farm boy from Shiloh, Jimmy, who decided to join the army just because he'd seen the imposing Goliath Combat Robot; he simply longed for these things and had no intention of joining the Confederacy army.

Just as Matt Horner withdrew his gaze and turned to look ahead again, a broad-shouldered man with short, dark gray hair was walking towards him. Matt Horner could tell at a glance that this man was no ordinary person; his expression was resolute, and his thick eyebrows were slightly furrowed, giving the impression that he was worried about something, something that could not possibly be a trivial matter.

At one point, the man suddenly turned to look at Matt Horner and met his gaze.

New Canaan is near the ocean, and the nights are cool and breezy.

They stared at each other for a few seconds—perhaps just a moment—before Matt Horner blushed and looked away, his ears feeling damp. Fifteen-year-old Matt Horner Matt Horner was a shy boy; he was easily embarrassed and blushed, and had a gentle personality.

Matt Horner was dressed in a black school uniform, making it immediately clear that he was a student.

At this time, Matt Horner was a fair-skinned boy with dark brown curly hair and a clean, childlike appearance. Matt Horner's skin was fair, his Adam's apple was not yet prominent, and he still had a childish look. Even as a boy, he could be associated with cuteness.

"Kid, are you a local?" The man's eyes lit up as he called out to Matt Horner. His voice was warm, but with a deep, hoarse quality, as if the wind and harsh environment had damaged his throat during his travels through the universe.

No one could refuse this gentleman's question. Matt Horner was absolutely certain of this.

"Yes, yes, sir," Matt Horner replied.

Standing before this tall, imposing man, Matt Horner, still in his developmental stage, could only see the man's well-defined muscles beneath his open trench coat. He was undoubtedly a man of immense masculine charm, exuding elegance; even girls would blush in his presence, let alone Matt Horner.

Behind the man were two beautiful young women, one with red hair and the other with pink hair, both very pretty. Further behind them were four tall, muscular male bodyguards, their muscles thicker than Matt Horner's thighs. Matt Horner had no doubt that the dark-haired burly man could kill a Taradorn Rex with a single punch.

Matt Horner's gaze lingered on the pink-haired girl for a moment, then shifted away after she winked at him. She was probably older and taller than him.

"Do you know how to get to the headquarters of the Tyrador Knights?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir," Matt Horner replied immediately.

"I can take you to the Knights' headquarters. It's not far from here; in fact, it's in the direction you came from. I happen to be passing by there," he said.

"I think you must have missed something. Tyrador IX is different from other planets; the positioning system here might lead your car or spaceship into a trench instead of a knight's castle."

Following strangers or traveling in groups at night in New Canaan is not a wise choice. Although it's not like the lower city of Tarsonis, where shootings happen all the time, there is no absolutely safe place in the Terran Confederacy Territory. Even when traveling at night, try to avoid the chaotic slums.

Fortunately, this is the core urban area of New Canaan. Although the Tyrador Knights often fight back and forth with the pirates of this system, the security is still quite good. Matt Horner doesn't need to worry about being tied up and sold to human traffickers—any child, whether boy or girl, should be wary of those despicable criminals who are everywhere.

"Really? Looks like I'm lost." The man looked around, a frustrated expression on his face. "I think I really did miss my destination, because my personal terminal's navigation system keeps giving me errors."

"Then we'll have to trouble you to lead the way." He turned to his entourage behind him and said, "It seems we'll have to go back again."

"It was just a small favor." Matt Horner followed, avoiding the menacing guards and the girls who were clearly curious about him.

"What's your name?" the man asked him on the way.

"Matt Horner Matt Horner, my grandfather came from a faraway, desolate colonial world," Matt Horner replied.

"I am Augustus Antoninus Nicholas of Korhal," Augustus said to him.

"I am a merchant who has come to Taradorn to import some new goods."

"You're Korhal?" Matt Horner asked in surprise.

"But I remember that Korhal has already been... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up that sad thing. My parents, my classmates, and many Taradorn can't believe it's true, and many of them are descendants of those who colonized from Korhal IV generations ago."

"It was a catastrophe—" he said.

"Yes," Augustus said sadly, "Many people have died. Korhal was once one of the most prosperous colonies of the Terran Confederacy, with its economy, technology, and arts reaching their golden age. It shouldn't have been long before the Tarsonis Confederacy could no longer arbitrarily seize the Korhal people's assets."

"After Korhal was destroyed, I have been traveling through the Koprulu Sector, searching for my lost people, dreaming of one day rebuilding Korhal."

"I can feel your sorrow and compassion. You are kind, Matt Horner," Augustus. "To meet a child like you on the Tyrador IX is truly a matter of fate, a destiny."

"God has not abandoned those who respect him most."

"Yes, sir," Matt Horner said, blushing.

Unbeknownst to Matt Horner, two years prior, several agents under Augustus had been ordered to Tyrador IX to search for a man Matt Horner Matt Horner. While Matt Horner was not uncommon on the planet, the surname Matt Horner primarily originated from New Trinidad and was relatively rare on Taradorn.

By comparing identities, ages, and feigned contact, Augustus's agents finally identified the second son of the New Canaan Horner family as the person the Revolutionary Marshal had sent to find.

The agents had long ago obtained Matt Horner's daily activity route and calculated that he would appear here at this time.

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