Reborn as an Evolving Space Monster: Harem Of Otherworldly Beauties-Chapter 316: Golden Boy

"We finally meet, Cero." The Prime Minister smiled. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Hm." Cero shrugged. "Likewise, I suppose."

Having momentarily escaped his bodyguards, the Prime Minister had entered the police station alone.

They followed him in, and ordered all the bystanders to walk out and leave.

'...' Roka gulped.

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On one side, separated by the metallic bars, were dozens of officers. On the other side were the Prime Minister's bodyguards. There were nine of them. She could recognize seven of them, and assumed that the other three were individuals who had distinguished themselves one way or another on a battlefield, just like the seven she recognized.

Cero didn't mind them. His gaze went back to the officers standing on the other side of the metallic bars.

"Hurry it up." He ordered.

The Prime Minister remained silent for a moment, fiddling with the tip of his long mustache.

"As he says," The Prime Minister nodded. "Hurry it up." His gaze momentarily moved away from Cero and towards the metallic bars. Noticing the way that portions of those metallic bars were bent, it was obvious that they had been squeezed. 'Those can handle many things. Indeed, they were reinforced so that even a car crashing into them at full speed wouldn't leave a scratch.'

The Prime Minister's bodyguards had also noticed, which is why they ended up walking one step closer.

They needed to be close enough to be able to protect the Prime Minister at a moment's notice, but not so close that the individual known as Cero would feel crowded or surrounded.

"I suppose these things take some time." The Prime Minister muttered.

Cero turned in the Prime Minister's direction. He was an odd-looking man. Bald and with a forehead full of wrinkles. Despite being particularly short, he stood tall and straight with his hands behind his back, which gave him a certain presence.

"Please, don't give me this look." The Prime Minister waved a hand. "I expect it from my compatriots, but it hurts coming from foreigners."

"What do you mean?" Cero asked, turning towards him.

"Hm." The Prime Minister let out an exhale not dissimilar to a chuckle. "I can see it in your eyes, Cero. The Prime Minister is a man? That's surprising." He nodded. "That's what your eyes say."

For some reason, the Prime Minister's words stung.

"Well," Cero looked away with a shrug. "Can you blame me?"

"Hm, I suppose not." The Prime Minister pulled on the tip of his mustache horizontally. "I've, unfortunately, not gotten the chance to personally thank you yet."

"Yes." A slight frown was drawn on Cero's face. "I hope this wasn't an excuse to meet me."

"You mean to imply that I, the Prime Minister, would have purposefully imprisoned your and Roka's friend to get to meet you?"

"Did you?"

Roka gulped internally. Between the man who leads Wor, her home planet, and Cero, she found herself unable to choose a side and remained silent.

"Please." The Prime Minister didn't give that suggestion more weight than that. "Though now that you mention it, we should schedule a proper meeting."

"I don't do meetings." Cero muttered before banging on the metallic bars. "What's taking so long?" He shouted.

"I see." The Prime Minister nodded. "How about lunch sometime?"

Cero's gaze momentarily went to Wor's Prime Minister.

Though it, technically, shouldn't be the case, Wor's Prime Minister held immense power over the whole Planet. He had risen into the position of Prime Minister little over two years ago, right after the disappearance of Wor's Tsero Crystal.

Many had doubts about him, since he had spent much of his life living and working dozens of solar systems away from Wor.

Countless stories revolved around him, and both Raya and Rea had warned Cero about the Prime Minister.

He was incredibly cunning, intelligent, charismatic, and knowledgeable.

Above all of his other traits, the one he was most proud of, and the world most envious of, was his sense of smell.

The Prime Minister was born in the slums, with parents living barely above the poverty line. His father, after years of struggle, managed to obtain a job as a stock broker. The base pay was minimal, but there was no end to how much one could make through bonuses. A percentage of the money gained by the company through the worker's trades is paid to the trader.

Despite having a deadbeat mother, the father somehow managed to prove his worth and earn a good living for the family.

Three months into the job, they were nowhere near the poverty line.

Four months later, the Prime Minister's father had resigned.

Ten months into trading on his own account, his father had made a million.

At the young age of thirteen years old, the (now) Prime Minister was nicknamed "Golden Boy", when it was revealed that the more successful trades weren't his father's, but his.

When interviewed and asked how a boy with no proper mentors or vast amounts of knowledge could achieve such success at a young age, the boy only had one thing to say.

-It smelled. It smelled like an opportunity. I guess you could say that it smelled like money.-

The boy studied, learned, and grew older. Countless banks and hedge funds kept tabs on him, tried to recruit him, or to learn from him. Unfortunately for them, his sense of smell couldn't be copied, studied or understood.

Having already made a fortune, Golden Boy looked for other endeavors, which his sense of smell allowed him to identify.

As an old man, his looks having diminished, his hunger stalled, his desires fulfilled, and his homeland in crisis, Golden Boy returned to Wor, and quickly rose to the center stage.

Hearing about Cero, the Prime Minister had felt his nostril twitch slightly.

Not knowing or having learned much about him at all, the Prime Minister took in a deep breath in Cero's presence.

"Would you prefer dinner? Or breakfast?" The Prime Minister suggested.

Cero scratched his cheek momentarily, and the Prime Minister felt his lungs tingle.

"Well, maybe. We'll see."

The Prime Minister nodded with a satisfied smile.

It smelled.

It smelled more strongly than ever.