The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 410

Chapter 410 Confirm

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“Just what? Just the best transport driver? Just learn faster than anyone else?” Tasha cut him off. “Peter, stop acting like you can’t do it. You’re a lot more capable than you think.”

Peter didn’t respond.

Tasha sighed, then stood up. “Anyway, registration closes three days. Think it through.”

She reached the door, then paused and looked back. “Oh, right. There’s pan–seared halloumi for dinner. Your favorite.”

The door closed.

Peter was sitting alone in the dim dorm room, watching the sky outside slowly darken.

A single star had just begun to glow on the horizon. That was the first one of the night.

Soon, more would appear. Starships would cut across the sky between them, leaving long trails of light before vanishing into the far edge of the sky.

He had loved watching those spaceships ever since he was a child.

Back then, he scavenged for food in piles of trash and lifted his head as he searched, watching those glittering things pass

overhead.

He didn’t know where they came from or where they were going. Only that the world above them was separated from him by an entire universe.

But now, the farm’s own spaceships were parked at the spaceport, waiting for someone to fly, escort them, and repair them.

As long as he dared to sign up, he could be one of those people.

Peter slowly raised his wrist, staring at the message still open on his device screen.

He fixed his gaze on the “Confirm” button for a very long time.

He moved his finger, hovered over it, and then pulled back.

Wait a little longer. Think a little more.

But the button stayed there, glowing like the first star in the sky.

It was past 9:00 p.m. when Peter finally left the dorm. He wasn’t hungry–he just couldn’t lie still anymore.

As he passed the communal shower room, he heard a few young men talking while rinsing off.

“I really signed up. Just hit confirm.”

“Are you sure you’re qualified? You can barely drive a ground vehicle.”

“That’s driving! Flying a spaceship is different! The instructor said I’ve got quick reflexes!”

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Chapter 410 Confirm

“Sure, sure. You’ve got reflexes. Anyway, I also signed up. If we both get in, we’ll run cargo flights together someday.”

“Forget it. I applied as an escort, and you signed up for a pilot. If we end up on the same ship, I’ll protect you.”

“Heh, I don’t need that.”

Laughter spilled out of the shower room, mixed with the sound of running water, loud and lively.

Peter stood outside for a moment, listening. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

Then he kept walking toward the cafeteria.

There weren’t many people around+just a few on overtime or off–duty shifts.

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Ella was wiping down the counter. When she saw him come in, she immediately waved him over. “Peter? Come here. I saved you some pan–seared halloumi and grain pilaf!”

He froze slightly. “Ella…”

“I knew you’d come. You looked off this afternoon. You didn’t eat well, did you?” Before he could respond, Ella had already pulled out a plate of pan–seared halloumi, a plate of grain pilaf, and a plate of stir–fried greens from the warming cabinet and set them in front of him. “Eat up. You’ve got to eat well to think straight.”

Peter stared at the pan–seared halloumi. It was glossy, richly colored, and soaked in sauce, soft and fragrant.

His eyes suddenly stung a little.

“Ella, do you think I can apply?” he murmured, head lowered.

Ella sat down across from him and looked at him.

“When you ask that, it means you already want to. You’re just scared.”

He didn’t answer.

She smiled and lightly patted his hand. “You should apply if you want to. You’re young, strong, and sharp–minded. We do have plenty of impressive retired soldiers here, but they weren’t born that way either. If you go and learn properly, you can become

r impressive as well.”

She paused, her voice softening. “I’ve watched you grow from a skinny kid to the person you are now. From someone who couldn’t even write properly, you became a team leader. You’ve got something in you–you just don’t see it. That strength matters more than anything.”

Peter kept his head dow, staring at the pan–seared halloumi. His eyes grew hotter.

“Eat up,” Ella said, standing up and patting his shoulder. “It won’t taste as good if it gets cold. You can decide after you finish.”

He nodded, picked up his fork, and took a bite.

The halloumi was tender, richly flavored, and deeply comforting.

He chewed slowly, savoring every bite.

When he finished the last bite, he set down his fork and looked again at the message on his wrist.

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