Young Marshal Reznik

Holy shit! What was that?

Frantically looking at all directions, I saw no one. Was that my imagination? Did I hear it wrong?

Without delaying anymore, I left the area hurriedly. Just as I was about to sprint, the moan resounded again.

This time, I am now sure it was not my imagination—there was someone moaning out there. Precisely, the sound came from her right side not far from her. In fact, this time, the sound was clearer than the other time.

Debating whether to go or not to go, as always, my curiosity got the best of me. Seven feet away from where I stopped, I paused. Covered with debris from the starship that always dumped garbage was a tall and wounded man.

My heart throbbed in fear yet I never stopped myself from carefully taking off the debris that covered him. His was on his stomach without moving. Had it not been for the small rising and falling of his wounded chest, I would have doubted if he was still alive.

The man was wearing a black military suit that I often saw from the patrolling army in the Garbage Star. But there were still differences such as there was a silver lining in his uniform as if it was carefully and specifically crafted for him.

Should I call the nearest soldier I could see? Should I call for Chino? Or should I leave him here and be done with it?

I tapped the only part of his uniform that was not torn and sticky with blood.

“Sir? Sir?”

No response as expected.

His face was still against the ground.

Carefully, I turned him over that elicited a groan from him.

“Sorry… I don’t know if you can hear me, but you are in a wreck, man.”

As I spoke, I took my only cleanest towel with me to tie his wounds, but they were too many that I simply gave up and settled for the next best thing.

With the only nutrient solution in my pocket, I chugged the half to restore my energy and I slowly held his dirty chin to help him open and close his lips for the nutrient solution.

“Sire, I don’t know if this will help you. But I don’t have a single star coin so I can’t buy you any healing reagent from the Star Mall. By the way, you owe me a nutrient solution.”

I placed him in a relatively one-meter wide scrap metal, tied its both ends, and dragged it along with him. My destination?

My small shack.

My instinct kept me from telling his existence from anyone else even from Chino.

Along the way, I hummed to distract my thoughts—not knowing that the large wounds on the man’s body no longer bled.

As soon as we arrived, I bolted the shack, placed a discarded blanket on the floor opposite to my bed, and carefully transferred him from the metal board to the hard floor.

Checking his breathing again, I noticed that his breath was stronger now.

Squatting next to the man, the only clean discarded cloth cut to be bandage was in my hands along with an alcohol that Chino gifted to this original body a few months ago.

“You owe me more and more, Sir.” I murmured under my breath as cleaned him up.

But as seconds ticked by, my movement became slower and slower until it stopped—leaving me dumbfounded and scared out of my wits end.

“Holy !”

The familiar sharp contours, aristocratic nose that brought elegant impact, handsome brows, deep eyes, and pale lips—wasn’t this the man from the Star Net?!

“What the heck is going on here?”

Sleeping soundly before me was the renowned youngest marshal of the entire galaxy—who was by the way the only 3S level mecha soldier!!!

I suddenly felt that my shack became luxurious just because of his mere presence! A marshal! What was the concept of a marshal? It was like having a president in my home!

Call me superficial but I am not staring at a handsome man but a walking treasure! If I saved him, could I strike a deal with him? Perhaps, I could leave this Garbage Star?

But where to go?

I immediately shoved this series of thoughts. The urgent problem right now was to stop this man from dying!

Scanning my optical brain, the glaring 0 made me sober up. Frustrated, I chose the primitive way—use my treasured nutrient solution and clean his wounds with the only available alcohol and cloth. Stripping him off with his upper clothes with my scissors, my throat tightened as soon as I finished.

“He looks so thin, but he has eight-packed abs!”

I lived to my twenties in my past life, but this was the first time I was able to see a man’s bare chest—not to mention, eight-packed abs!

A burning sensation appeared on both of my cheeks. Averting my eyes from the delicious sin, I stood up and took my only blanket to cover such a sight in one swift move.

J-sus! I am acting like a perverted young girl! Wake up! Wake up, Layla!

Shaking my head, I threw myself in a busy state. Seeing that he was sleeping soundly without any signs of infection for now, I immediately took the sack to be sold.

When I returned home, my account was no longer 0 but 1400 star coins!

Humming a song from the old Earth, I opened the door of my humble abode and met a pair of eyes that seemed to see through all my secrets and inner thoughts.

A pair of eyes so deep that I seemed to lost track of time. They reminded me of a starless night sky—full of mystery and unknown danger.

He’s awake.

“Are you the one who saved me?”

His voice snapped me from reverie. Closing the door behind me, I stiffly nodded.

I am the one standing while he was sitting on the floor yet I felt I am so small in front of him—like a child in front of a principal.

The oppressive pressure from the injured and pale young marshal was no joke!

“You have my gratitude…but where are we? My optical brain was destroyed and some memories are blurred right now.”

My eyes widened. Unknowingly, I crossed the distance between us and sat next to his make-shift mat. “Do you still remember who you are?”

He frowned as if he was trying to remember something. When I saw him sweating and his pale lips becoming paler by the minute, I stopped him.

“I don’t know you much, but at least I know your name and where you worked.”

Gone was the timidity I showed him earlier, replaced by pity. Somehow, I could empathized with him. As a transmigrator from thousand of years ago, the desperation when I first woke up almost swallowed me. Had it not been for my desire to live once more being stronger, I would not dare imagine such alternative outcome.

He closed his eyes, hiding away from me the turmoil in him. I could only give him space—though I doubted if my shack would allow that.

“I earned some star coins earlier,” I said, “Drink this. You still remember this, right?”

He opened his eyes and stared at the blue-colored nutrient solution in my hand. “I’m not retarded…and thank you. May I have the name of my benefactor?”

“Layla. Born in this Garbage Star.” Out of habit, I extended my right hand for a handshake.

It was too late to realize what I did. I was about to take it back when a calloused cold hand grasped my small hand.

“Hehehe.” My awkward laughter erupted, making me wish for a hole to swallow me right now. The familiar burning feeling on my cheeks reappeared. I could not stare straight into his eyes, so I could only glanced at his wounds.

“Uhm… Do you want me to change the dressing of your wounds?” I took out the gauze and disinfectant from my small bag. I still bought this from the caravan.

“Just leave it there. I can’t bother you with these menial things.”

“You remember how to use these?” Oh right! He’s not retarded, just selective temporary amnesia. Probably, he got a brain injury. “I mean… do you want me to tell you what I know about you?”

I failed to notice the humor in his eyes which immediately vanished in a blink of an eye. Instead of answering my dumb questions, he dismissed me by closing his eyes as if he was about to slip.

Tactfully, I crawled back to my bed. Without my blanket, I turned away from the direction where the young marshal was. Although I could not see him because he was on the floor, as a young girl, I still turned away and pushed myself to sleep.

Hopefully by tomorrow, he would remember things…