"What do you think? Haugmp, Munch Munch," Milanor asked his maid as he sat on the central chair, eating an instant heated meal in a portable container.

They were inside Helios' designated Meeting Room, located on the 2nd Upper Deck. In the room, a rectangular glass table was placed in the center with 11 chairs around it. His chair was positioned at the end furthest from the door.

The table can also function as a holographic projector, which Miledi was currently operating from beside him. She didn't take a seat.

"I'll try to search the Network first," Miledi replied, manipulating the console. "Professor Laviria Newmann, is it?"

"I'm sure I heard that name before… Or is it just me? Tell me, Miledi. Munch Munch."

"No, I do not think it was just you, Master," she confirmed. "Professor Newmann is the famous President of the Centurion's Imperial Society. He is celebrated as a genius scientist and inventor who achieved numerous discoveries and created groundbreaking innovations."

"Huh, sounds like a wondrous guy. I probably heard his name on some news or something, gulp," Milanor surmised between chewing. "And why is Naya searching for him? She can find the professor in the imperial capital, can't she? Or did she mean she wanted us to bring her to him?"

"I'm positive that is not the case. Professor Laviria Newmann Miss Naya searching for is a woman," she refuted him.

"Hmm?"

"According to public record, she is his daughter. She disappeared from the capital and her family around seven years ago. Her whereabouts are unknown."

"Whoa, that's a genuine missing person. Glug glug glug," he commented before taking a large gulp of mineral water.

Being in the safety of his starship probably relieved all of the adrenaline that had built up since this morning. It might have triggered the survival instinct inside him, the ravenous craving for food and water after a tense fight-or-flight situation.

Or it could be because Milanor hadn't eaten anything today, since he wasn't a breakfast person. Maybe it was both. But likely it was the latter.

Seven years ago… hmm. Is it a coincidence? What she said before… he used his newly gained nutrition for a bit of creative thinking.

"I don't like to say this but… I doubt the chance she's still alive to this day is high," he said curtly.

Space travels were fraught with dangers. Piracy was the number one problem, for example. Due to the vastness of outer space, the continued advancement of spaceship travel speed, and the countless hiding places scattered across the galaxy made piracy quite a profitable venture.

The high economic inequality proven by the existence of a world-class ranking made the problem even worse.

"I would highly suggest keeping that pessimistic view deep within yourself, Master."

"I know, of course…" He wouldn't say that to Naya any time soon. Even he had that much tact, or so he think.

Besides piracy, other problems such as engine malfunction, hijacking, and terrorism could also become fatal for travelers.

"Well, the professor might never have left the capital in the first place. She may be hiding down there, right? What's the planet's population again? 1 billion? 2 billion?"

"Around 2 and a half billion," she answered immediately. "But Master, that kind of assumption should be left when we exhausted our options first. We still don't know anything about this professor lady."

"I guess you're right… Hamph, Munch Munch," Milanor agreed. "Naya seems to know her to some extent, maybe she has a clue."

But why is she looking for her now? Oh wait, seven years ago she would be… well, still a kid, I know that.

"Hey Miledi, I'm sure you would mock me for asking this but," he paused, glancing at his maid. "That Naya, she is a… young girl, right?"

"…"

At least Milanor prefaced it with self-deprecation. He was genuinely unsure of the question and he had a reason for that. Still, it didn't change the fact that he sounded like a creep.

Miledi's unchanging expression turned chilly, giving him a cold sweat.

"W-Wait, don't be making weird assumptions about me… I mean, you saw her fortune. I would need to work my ass to death for around 10 years to get that kind of money just freelancing," Milanor tried to explain himself.

"Indeed, her financial might is suspicious. I have to praise you for not asking this question directly to her," she said, her expression still feeling uncomfortable to look at.

"A-Ahaha. Yeah, I doubt she is more than 20 years old… Younger than me, huh?"

"Indeed. Even the youngest-looking old Irregulars still show signs of aging. But she didn't, that's her natural looks."

After millennia of research on the shortening of telomeres in human DNA, mankind's natural lifespan had more than doubled. Milanor heard somewhere that the oldest confirmed Natural (people that didn't experience lifespan extensions due to cryosleep, time dilation, bioengineering, and so on) was a 286 years old woman that lived around 400 years ago.

People's aging had also slowed down considerably as a result, and they reached senescence way later in life than the First Founders eight millennia ago.

That was the reason why Milanor even had the gall to doubt Naya's age. He didn't mean anything weird by it, he promised. Besides, he found her very cute.

"Anyway, speaking of her fortune," Milanor tried to change the topic. "How much do you suppose we charge her?"

"…If this employment happened to be long-term, we need to charge appropriately. She said before that she didn't mind paying in advance. Right, Master?"

"Y-Yeah, she did tell me that," he answered nervously, a bit creeped out by her tone.

They already knew the amount of wealth Naya had, so they could discuss this by themselves at first. Either way, Milanor didn't want to rip off Naya or cheat her out of anything.

"Then, I will prepare a rough estimation and come up with a satisfactory amount for both parties. I will also take into consideration the financial situation of our ship," she paused before turning to him from her console. "Do you have any objection?"

"N-No, of course not," he quickly nodded, feeling intimidated. It seemed his maid still held a grudge.