The bright crimson system notification hung in the air before Lin Mo’s eyes.
Out in the cold vacuum, the six hundred cutthroat mercenary warships floated with their engines dead. Their predatory red running lights flickered off, replaced by flickering yellow distress signals.
Aboard the cutthroat flagship Crimson Slaughter, panic had broken out.
Commander Blood-Axe Tu scrambled to his feet, clutching his comms headset with sweaty paws.
“Did you hear what Qin Haoran broadcast earlier?!” Tu screamed at his pirate captains across the tactical net. “Chairman Lin Mo only forgives people with eighty or higher Goodness! If your Goodness score is under eighty, he doesn’t pay your back-wages! He aims twenty-four hundred moon-sized macro-cannons at your teeth!”
“Commander, what is our average Goodness score?!” a pirate captain shrieked from an escort cruiser.
“Negative seventy-two!” Tu howled, pulling out clumps of his own greasy hair. “The lowest scum on my ship has a negative eighty-four! If that golden morality scanner sweeps us right now, we won’t even leave ashes behind!”
“Then do good deeds!” another pirate captain yelled hysterically. “Do good deeds right now before the golden scanner looks at us!”
