Hearing Sif's teasing, Rhomann Dey and the guards merely cracked polite smiles.
Star-Lord and Drax, on the other hand, immediately broke character and burst out into uncontrollable, gut-busting laughter!
"Good one! I'm definitely writing that line down in my notebook~"
Seeing the two of them cracking up so hard, Groot joined in with a silly, rumbling chuckle of his own.
The sight left Rhomann Dey and the surrounding Nova Corps officers utterly bewildered.
Wait a second, aren't you guys supposed to be on the same team? Is it really fine to mock your own squad member like this?
Rocket broke down completely from the humiliation. Abandoning any attempt to retaliate against Sif, he leaped up on the spot and went straight for Star-Lord's knees:
"You idiot! I should've never agreed to whatever stupid deal you came up with in the first place!"
Looking at the four utterly undisciplined goofballs, Gamora pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, quietly taking a step to the side with an expression that screamed: 'I don't know these people.'
"Alright, that's enough," Peter said, cutting off the rowdy banter as he turned to Star-Lord. "Let's make a trade. Hand over the Orb, and I'll let you guys walk free."
Gamora's expression shifted instantly.
Rocket flared his fur even further: "What did you say?! That thing is worth four hundred million—"
"Shh!" Star-Lord immediately clapped a hand over the frantic raccoon's mouth, offering Peter a smooth, polite smile: "Deal!"
A short while later, Peter stepped out of the Kyln Prison alongside Sif, casually tossing the "Orb" around in his hand.
"And that's it? That was way too smooth." Sif couldn't help but furrow her brows, instinctively recalling an ancient proverb she had picked up during her time on Earth—When things go too smoothly, something isn't right!
CRACK!
The moment the words left her mouth, Peter casually crushed the metal sphere in his palm.
Unsurprisingly, it was completely empty!
"Of course it wouldn't be that easy for them to just hand it over."
Peter smirked to himself, adding internally: If he gave up the real Orb that easily, he wouldn't be Star-Lord, would he?
"It's a fake?!" Sif was startled, her eyes instantly narrowing as a cold, lethal aura radiated from her gaze: "They actually dared to play you?"
"I'm going back in there to drag them out, and I'll hang every single one of them from The Destiny's bow!"
"Hey now~" Peter pulled Sif gently into his chest with one arm, lightly stroking her back: "Don't be so hot-headed. Think about who your man is—do you really think I'd actually get tricked by them?"
Sif froze for a moment before the realization finally dawned on her: "You let them run on purpose?!"
"Why else?" Peter gently pinched her nose, a playful smirk spreading across his lips: "Letting them run is what makes the game fun."
"What do you mean?" Sif asked in confusion.
"Sometimes, you have to learn how to create your own entertainment."
Taking her hand, Peter smiled warmly: "Come on. Let's go see how Xandar compares to Earth and Asgard!"
Looking at Peter's composed and supremely confident expression, Sif tightened her grip on his hand, a deep wave of affection swelling in her heart.
Wasn't this exact confidence—this absolute, effortless mastery over every situation—the very reason she had fallen for him so completely?
Sure enough, after Peter and Sif spent the afternoon enjoying a casual stroll through the city, Rhomann Dey contacted Peter that very evening in a state of sheer panic:
"Mr. Parker! Something terrible has happened!"
"What is it?" Peter replied, his tone as relaxed and unhurried as ever.
Rhomann Dey's voice trembled uncontrollably through the communicator: "We just received confirmation—Ronan the Accuser ambushed those tricksters' ship! The Orb... the Orb is in Ronan's hands now!"
A short while later, in the Nova Corps Command Center.
When Peter walked into the war room, the atmosphere inside was suffocatingly heavy.
Star-Lord, Gamora, Drax, Groot, and Rocket were kneeling on the judgment platform below, looking utterly battered and disheveled.
"Sorry... we blew it!" Star-Lord slumped onto the floor, his face filled with gloom.
"It's all your fault! If you hadn't insisted on going to Knowhere to sell that stupid sphere—!" Rocket pointed a frantic claw straight at Star-Lord's nose, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"What's the point of arguing about that now?!" Gamora's face was dead serious. "Now that Ronan has the Power Stone, Xandar will be his first target for destruction! We have to stop him!"
The surrounding Nova Corps Centurions stared at the five culprits, trembling with rage. Several instinctively drew their sidearms, itching to execute them on the spot.
"Stop him?! Stop him with what?!" a commander shouted furiously. "Because of you idiots, the entire planet of Xandar is facing complete annihilation! In the name of the Nova Corps, I sentence you all to death!"
The tension in the room reached a boiling point.
Right at that moment, a playful, melodious whistle echoed from the doorway.
A blue-skinned alien dressed in a dark red trench coat, a metallic fin mounted atop his head, casually strolled inside, accompanied by a large squad of similarly dressed Ravagers.
It was none other than Star-Lord's adoptive father, Yondu Udonta.
"Hey, kid," Yondu whistled, aiming his whistle-controlled Yaka Arrow right at Quill. "Looks like you got yourself into a way bigger mess than I thought. Speaking of which... isn't it about time you paid back what you owe me?"
In an instant, the Nova Corps, the fledgling Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Ravagers were all crammed into the same room. The space devolved into a chaotic mess, like a boiling pot of soup.
Everyone was shouting, deflecting blame, and scheming for their own survival.
"Enough."
A calm, level voice broke through the noise. It wasn't loud, yet it clearly overwhelmed the chaotic shouting of everyone in the room.
It was Peter.
The command center fell silent in an instant. Every eye locked onto him.
Whether it was the furious Rhomann Dey or the arrogant Yondu, the moment their eyes met Peter's cool, unbothered gaze, an involuntary chill ran down their spines.
"Ronan is already here."
Hearing those words, Rhomann Dey gasped. He rushed over to the main console and frantically tapped out a series of commands.
Immediately, a holographic projection of deep space materialized before the crowd.
Cruising through the void was a colossal, pitch-black warship shaped like a giant cross, radiating an undeniable aura of death and destruction as it steadily closed in on Xandar.
It was the Dark Aster—Ronan's flagship!
The moment the Dark Aster appeared on screen, the room broke into chaos once again.
"Run! Get out of here!" The Ravagers were the first to lose their cool.
"It's over! Ronan's strength has surged with the Power Stone—our defense grids won't hold him for even a second!" The Nova Corps officers held their heads in sheer despair.
Star-Lord instinctively opened his mouth to rally everyone, but the words caught in his throat. He was the one who had brought about this disaster; what right did he have to ask anyone to unite?
Just as the crowd was falling apart into a scattered, hopeless mess in the face of absolute crisis—
A lazy, utterly nonchalant voice echoed across the room:
"What's everybody panicking for? It's just a mere Ronan."
The speaker was, of course, none other than Peter.
Hearing those words, everyone in the room stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes, looking at him as if he had completely lost his mind.
Hold on, bro, are you insane?!
That's Ronan the Accuser!
What do you mean, "just a mere Ronan"?!
And "nothing more"?!
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