The Starfield Farming Sovereign (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 8

Relying on the memories of the body's original owner, Elizabeth crossed a vast expanse of garbage mounds and eventually stopped in a relatively secluded corner.

When her gaze settled on what was supposed to be her shelter, the corner of her mouth twitched.

It could hardly be called a house.

It was nothing more than a low shack cobbled together from rusted, twisted sheets of metal and scraps of discarded boards.

There wasn't even a proper door, only a filthy, colorless rag hanging there as a token barrier.

At best, it might block a bit of sunlight. As for sheltering from wind or rain, that was clearly out of the question.

By the looks of it, this place was only marginally better than sleeping out in the open.

Before she could step closer to inspect it properly, a gust of wind, not even particularly strong, swept through. The already precarious shack let out a teeth-grating creak, then collapsed outright with a crash right in front of her.

Dust and shards of metal flew up into her face.

Elizabeth froze where she stood, momentarily unsure what expression she should even make.

Her first thought was actually relief. At least she had not gone inside, or those scraps of metal would have come crashing down on her.

She suddenly felt that the original owner's vicious stepmother had wasted her effort by sending assassins after her.

With survival skills like these, on a perilous Garbage Planet, no one else needed to lift a finger. The original owner probably would have managed to get herself killed in a few days anyway.

No money. No shelter. No food.

She was now truly destitute.

Well, not entirely.

She had just earned 454 stellar coins at the garbage recycling station. After spending 405 stellar coins on a tool kit, she had 49 left.

The only question was how much those 49 stellar coins could actually buy in this godforsaken place.

She raised her wrist and activated her device, planning to check prices on Starnet so she would at least know where she stood.

The moment the holographic screen lit up, a massive, glaring red countdown filled the display: 9:45:28.

Below it were two striking buttons: Agree and Reject.

Elizabeth stared. "What the hell?"

Only then did she notice the blinking notification indicator off to the side.

She tapped it, and a string of bold, red official messages immediately popped up.

"Elpharion Kingdom Genetic Information Management Center: Congratulations, Ms. Elizabeth Schofield. Your genetic compatibility with General Cristian Hewitt, Commander of the Kingdom's First War Zone, has reached 99.9999 percent, achieving a perfect match. In accordance with Kingdom law, a perfect genetic match requires the mandatory establishment of a marital relationship. Please complete confirmation within 12 hours. Failure to respond within the allotted time will be considered default acceptance of the match."

Cristian?

The name sounded painfully familiar.

Had she just heard it moments ago?

The next second, the excited chatter she had overheard at the garbage recycling station came rushing back to her mind.

"General Hewitt's perfect genetic match has appeared."

"The Kingdom's War God. SSS-level mental power."

"That Elizabeth. Just what kind of monstrous existence is she?"

Holy hell.

So the gossip she had been so happily enjoying earlier was about her?

Reject.

She had to reject it.

Damn it, she wasn't some breeding animal. Match my ass.

Without a second thought, she jabbed her finger at the massive reject button on the holographic screen.

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