Traversing into an interstellar era where giant warships stood as the ultimate symbol of power, equipped with a top-tier auxiliary system.
For a man, this was the ultimate romance. The sea of stars, the roar of engines, and the cold gleam of titanium hulls.
Vance once believed his journey would be a legendary tale of conquest with a perfect ending.
Reality, however, was a cruel mistress. His life had lasted only thirty-four years.
At twenty, he stumbled upon a miracle—a unique warship capable of infinite evolution. But his lack of caution, combined with the ruthless nature of the galaxy, turned that blessing into a curse.
For over a decade, Vance lived like a ghost, hunted through the dark corners of the universe. Even with the help of his system, he was eventually cornered and torn apart in a brutal ambush.
But the system had one final ace up its sleeve: a one-time hidden function that triggered a temporal reset.
He was back. Ten years into the past.
He was twenty again, standing at the very precipice of the event that would change his life forever.
Vance stood still, the metallic tang of rust filling his lungs. It had been three minutes since he opened his eyes, and his mind was finally beginning to bridge the gap between death and rebirth.
Fate was a fickle thing. She kept her secrets close, only to slap you with a world-altering surprise when you least expected it.
One second, he was trapped in the cockpit of a shattering warship, feeling the icy grip of the vacuum as his blood boiled. The next, he was bathed in a humid, grit-filled breeze, his boots planted firmly on the solid ground of a planetary surface.
"Hey, Vance! You picking a ship or just staring at the scrap metal? Get a move on, there's a line behind you."
A scruffy manager with a salt-and-pepper beard shouted from the kiosk, his voice cracking with a forced smile.
In a mining colony, a worker like Vance—quiet, efficient, and high-yielding—was a rare asset. Management gave him a longer leash than the rest of the dregs.
If any other miner had spent ten minutes daydreaming in the hangar, they would've been met with a face full of spit and a boot to the ribs.
Vance didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted to the upper right corner of his vision, where a translucent blue interface flickered to life. The system was more than a tool; it was a part of his soul.
He scanned the rows of dozens of mining ships cluttering the landing pad. Through the system's lens, the world turned into a stream of data.
Most ships glowed with a sickly yellow or a warning red. Parts were worn, engines were leaking, and hulls were micro-fractured.
Then, his eyes locked onto a specific vessel. In his vision, every component of this particular ship lit up in a vibrant, healthy green.
[Scan Complete]
[Vessel: Ore-Tyrant MK-II (F-Grade Sub-Orbital Mining Ship)]
[Condition: 91%]
[Growth Potential: None]
The Ore-Tyrant MK-II was a century-old model, a relic by galactic standards. But on this backwater rock, it was the gold standard.
Its sleek, aerodynamic frame was a rarity among the blocky, ugly mining rigs. It possessed a certain industrial elegance.
The "F-Grade" tag meant it was bottom-tier trash in the eyes of the great Star-Nations. But here, in the fringes of the sector, it was a beast.
"I'll take the Ore-Tyrant MK-II," Vance said, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Open the permissions for me, Old Stan."
"You got it, kid," the manager replied.
Old Stan tapped a few commands into his wrist-mounted terminal. With a quick sync to Vance's device, the authorization was complete.
Vance walked toward the ship, his pace steady. He summoned the boarding interface with a thought. A shimmering tractor beam enveloped him, pulling him smoothly into the cockpit.
It felt like coming home.
He hadn't touched a manual mining rig in over a decade, but as his fingers brushed the cold control sticks, his body remembered. Muscle memory was a powerful thing.
The ship was 174 feet long, a heavy beast of steel and wires. Vance engaged the four heavy-duty particle thrusters.
Vroom—!
The deck shuddered. The engines roared with a guttural, primal hunger. The ship broke free from its moorings and soared toward the heavens.
It pierced the atmosphere, shedding the weight of the planet until it finally broke into the silent, infinite embrace of the vacuum.
Once the autopilot was locked onto the asteroid belt, Vance finally let out a long, shaky breath.
Only now, surrounded by the cold, vast emptiness of space, did his nerves finally begin to settle.
This was Planet KQ-03. The only habitable rock in the mining sector of the Blackstone Barony.
In his previous life, Vance had spent twenty years here. He thought he knew this place. He knew its orbital period, its mineral composition, and the exact coordinates of every asteroid worth a damn.
He knew the population was thirteen million and that three major mining corporations sucked the planet dry. He knew about the Governor and his small fleet of twelve pathetic patrol ships.
But he had been blind to the things that actually mattered.
The old Vance didn't know that the Air-Shark Chamber of Commerce held the real power. He didn't know the Sky-Tiger Caravan ran the black market, or that the Kingfisher Pavilion was the only place to buy secrets.
He had tried to hide his "miracles" back then, but he was an amateur. His attempts at secrecy were like a child hiding a diamond in a glass jar. To the wolves of the galaxy, he wasn't a man; he was a walking treasure chest to be plundered.
"Call up the System Interface," Vance whispered.
A familiar azure screen manifested in his mind.
[Auxiliary System: Warship Evolve]
[Permanent Function 1: Scan]
[Permanent Function 2: High-Speed Neural Link (Disabled)]
[Optional Function 1: Void Signal Intercept (Disabled)]
[Optional Function 2: Module Growth Doubler (Disabled)]
[Optional Function 3: Selected Module Traits (Disabled)]
[Advanced Function 1: Source Point Multiplier (Disabled)]
[Advanced Function 2: Void Civilization Level Override (Disabled)]
...
The list went on, but almost everything was grayed out. Only [Scan] remained active.
It was this single function that had allowed him to pick the best ship in the hangar—a small advantage that had been his "first pot of gold" in his previous life.
By always picking the best equipment, he had out-produced every other miner on the planet.
But now he knew the truth. The system was designed for Warships, not mining tubs. Its true power wouldn't be unlocked until he stepped onto the bridge of a real predator of the stars.
The path to a warship was nearly impossible for a commoner like him. It was a dream that required more than just hard work. It required blood and destiny.
Vance looked out at the stars, his eyes cold and focused. The system's hidden function—the time jump—was gone. He had used his one and only "Restart" button.
But the timing was perfect. Every tragedy, every betrayal, and every regret hadn't happened yet.
When he first crossed into this world, he was filled with the typical arrogance of a "chosen one." He thought he would change the galaxy and lead humanity to a new era.
Then reality had hit him like a kinetic bombardment, grinding his ambitions into the dirt until he was just another stray dog running for his life.
Not this time.
Vance gripped the controls, his knuckles white. This time, he wasn't just going to survive. He was going to hunt.