Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 57: Genetic Disease

Chapter 57: Genetic Disease

"Your grandma got diagnosed with a genetic disease? Do you have enough money for treatment? I can lend you some," Zinnia offered.

To Lyra, Zinnia’s enthusiasm seemed a bit much, but Mandy found comfort in her kindness.

Mandy wiped away her tears, forcing a sad smile. "Grandma has neurodegeneration. There’s no cure, just meds to manage it."

This disease is one of those cruel, incurable ones. It slowly eats away at the nerves, and no one can predict how it’ll turn out.

Even with the most advanced treatments, there’s nothing that can stop it.

If Mandy’s family had money, they could use the latest tech and drugs to ease her symptoms. But they was no way they could ever get that kind of cash? This illness was a bottomless pit; they simply couldn’t afford it.

Zinnia scratched her head. "I could introduce you to some doctors, but the facilities on Planet Nagano should be better than here on Snowfall. I’m sorry, though, I guess that’s not much help."

Mandy shook her head. "You don’t need to apologize. Even if we found a doctor, my family couldn’t pay for the treatment."

"Hold on, let me ask my dad if he can help."

Zinnia was ready to call her family to borrow money, but Mandy quickly stopped her.

"No, no need."

Lyra didn’t stick around for the rest of the conversation. She headed straight back to her room.

The next day, Zinnia brought it up again, this time chatting with Lyra. "Why didn’t Mandy ask Vivian for money? I even suggested we do a fundraiser at school, but she wasn’t into it."

Lyra thought for a moment before answering, "Maybe it’s because she’s holding onto the only pride she has left."

Maybe to prove Lyra right, Mandy applied for a part-time job on campus later that day.

...

By the time the competition reached the third round, things got intense.

The format shifted to one-on-one matches, with twenty-five people drawing lots to pick their opponents, and a few getting a bye. Lyra lucked out with a bye in the first round, sailing straight to the top thirteen.

Some people couldn’t help but comment, "She’s got some serious luck."

Thierry overheard someone from another class say this and laughed. "Not having to face her is the real luck."

Deep down, Thierry felt a strange excitement. He wanted to face Lyra in a real fight to see who was stronger.

After winning his next match, he shared this thought with Claude, who just laughed, "The head student being competitive with a girl?"

Thierry’s expression turned serious. "That’s pretty disrespectful. Girls at the military academy want to be judged by their strength, not their gender."

When the military corps recruits, they don’t care about looks—only results.

Claude awkwardly scratched his nose and agreed, "You’re right."

As he spoke, he glanced over at Lyra, who was nearby. She didn’t seem like someone fit for a military academy, yet here she was, probably trying to prove herself and earn respect.

Cloude smiled and said to himself, "Maybe Lyra wants to compete with Thierry to see who’s the best."

Not far away, Lyra thought to herself, ’...No, thanks, but I really don’t.’

Thierry’s words resonated with the girls in his class; they appreciated him speaking up for what they truly felt.

When it was time for the top thirteen to battle for a spot in the top six, Lyra wasn’t so lucky anymore. She drew Vikie, the top student from Class Three.

Vikie’s superpower was speed, moving like lightning and striking in an instant. Most opponents didn’t even see her move before they were hit, and her physical skills were top-notch too.

The students were buzzing with excitement.

"Lyra’s finally met her match."

"This is going to be good!"

"She’s got those flexible, unpredictable moves, but Vikie’s even faster."

Everyone was glued to the action, eager to see how Lyra would pull off a win this time. But then, something unexpected happened—she just stopped.

Vikie frowned, unsure what trick Lyra was up to. She had studied Lyra’s style carefully. It was all about unusual psychokinesis and solid physical skills, but nothing that should be too difficult to handle.

Thinking this was her chance, Vikie decided to strike first.

The instructors watching shook their heads; Vikie was being way too reckless.

To Vikie, everything blurred out except Lyra standing in front of her. She moved fast, kicking Lyra square in the arm. She quickly followed up with a punch, but Lyra caught her arm in midair.

Vikie was stunned. ’How did she see through my move?’

"Got you," Lyra said with a slow, almost teasing smile that sent a chill down Vikie’s spine.

In a flash, Vikie was flipped and slammed hard onto the mat.

Before Vikie could react, Lyra locked her arm and unleashed a flurry of punches, elbow strikes, and knee strikes, completely overwhelming her.

The referee didn’t hesitate and raised the flag. "Lyra from Class One wins!"

Vikie clutched her stomach, her face pale with pain. "You didn’t hold back, did you?"

Lyra turned to leave but then paused. She walked back, helped Vikie off the mat, and guided her to the treatment area. "Sorry, once I start, it’s hard to stop."

Vikie couldn’t help but smirk. She had only landed one kick—does that even count as a hit? Then it dawned on her—Lyra hadn’t been touched by anyone during the whole competition. In that sense, she did better than most.

Next up was the round where the final seven would compete for the top four spots.

Among the remaining contestants, Class One held three spots, with the other classes each securing just one. The gap in skill between the classes was becoming obvious.

As Thierry had hoped, he was matched against Lyra.

When he saw his name next to hers on the screen, he pumped his fist in excitement.

He marched onto the field, eyes locked on Lyra like an eager puppy.

He watched as Lyra stood up, raised her hand, and spoke.

"I forfeit."

The entire crowd went silent.

"What?"

Thierry stared at her, wide-eyed and confused. "Lyra, don’t worry about our friendship. I don’t care about winning or losing."

Lyra looked at his eager face and sighed. "I’m just too tired."

She wasn’t lying. Though she could still fight, Thierry was clearly on a different level from the others. Winning would drain her, and losing might actually be the easier path.

Her face, always pale like she’d never seen the sun, now looked even more exhausted, her voice hoarse.

It was clear she was completely worn out, and it was hard to argue with that request of hers.

Thierry swallowed his deep disappointment. "Well, I guess there’s no choice."

The referee glanced at the head instructor, who nodded, so he raised the flag. "Since Lyra from Class One forfeited, Thierry wins."

Among the instructors, Anton couldn’t hide his satisfaction. "It’s a good outcome either way."

Webber, not wanting to rain on his parade but feeling a bit irritated, quietly added, "Don’t worry, Thierry will win all the points back."

And as expected, Thierry didn’t disappoint, securing first place in the end.

Zinnia pouted and buried her face in Lyra’s arms. "Just a little more, just a little, and I would’ve won."

Lyra gently pushed away Zinnia’s bruised and swollen face. "It wasn’t just a little."

The truth was, Zinnia had fought for nearly half an hour before the match finally ended. Zinnia’s high tolerance for pain was the only reason it lasted that long; otherwise, it would’ve wrapped up much sooner.

The next two days of the competition were more relaxed, featuring fun events like a mecha ball-collecting game and a Lev shooting contest. Lyra, however, didn’t participate in any of them.

There was a problem at the factory.