Chapter 359: Inseparable

Chapter 359: Indivisible

Shen City.

Determined to reach the 016 Ruins swiftly, Shen Yue employed every means at his disposal.

The road traffic was too sluggish, so he opted to ride a transport aircraft.

With nowhere to land, he followed Chen Jian’s plan and leapt by parachute.

After all, all four were special‑ops veterans; high‑altitude jumps and low‑altitude openings were routine, for in the tangled terrain surrounding Shen City, finding a suitable landing spot was no simple task.

Yet even so, he nearly became entangled in a tree.

After a hard‑won touchdown, his landing site lay a full two kilometres from the intended point.

Fortunately, the surrounding area was relatively safe—after the beast tide had subsided, countless monsters were slain, and the southern region’s creature density had plummeted to a negligible line.

From that moment until he successfully linked up with Huang Meng’s interleaved company, he encountered not a single beast.

So upon seeing Huang Meng, his first words were:

“Have all the monsters around here been exterminated? Why is it so quiet?”

Across from him, Huang Meng gave an awkward smile and replied:

“We can’t make heads or tails of what’s inside the 016 base, and we dare not wander in recklessly for fear of causing damage.”

“So we circled the perimeter and cleared a wave of roaming monsters.”

“After all, we still need to lay a transport route here later; a pre‑emptive sweep does no harm.”

“Well done.”

Shen Yue nodded approvingly at Huang Meng and then asked:

“Where is the base entrance?”

“About five hundred meters ahead—follow me.”

Huang Meng turned, pointing to the waiting cat‑vehicle; Shen Yue leapt aboard, and the party sped toward the 016 base.

As they rode, Shen Yue watched Huang Meng deftly retract the warning beacons strewn along the road’s edges, and he couldn’t help to think that “growing through battle” was no idle phrase.

Only months earlier, Huang Meng had been a greenhorn in Huangshi City who knew nothing but how to fish.

Now, he was a seasoned warrior capable of piloting tanks, firing cannons, charging into the fray, and commanding from the helm.

Upon reaching the 016 base entrance, Huang Meng swiftly set up a security perimeter and, without a hint of hesitation, led Shen Yue straight toward the gate.

The main corridor’s doors had already swung open before they arrived, yet Shen Yue’s eyes were first drawn to the strange “active metal” piled outside.

“Where did all this come from?”

“It could have been extracted from the soil—but we have no idea.”

Huang Meng answered helplessly, and Shen Yue felt his question was rather foolish.

After all, even Fuxi couldn’t locate such data in the archives; how could Huang Meng possibly know?

“No matter; the samples have been sent back, and we’ll learn the truth in time.”

Shen Yue replied offhand, then strode ahead through the doorway.

When the lights flared on, the bizarre apparatus that nearly filled the entire first floor materialized before his eyes.

Shen Yue inhaled a sharp breath of cold air.

“Is this… a star‑mimic?”

The device’s silhouette bore many resemblances to a star‑mimic; at first glance, countless paired helical coils wound around a sealed conduit, indistinguishable from the magnetic confinement of a star‑mimic.

Yet soon, Fuxi’s voice crackled through the headset.

“Commander, this is not a star‑mimic.”

“This equipment violates the fundamental operating principles of a star‑mimic; it contains several modules whose functions and mechanisms are unknown.”

“I have performed visual analysis on the gear and roughly deduced the purpose of each module.”

“However, I cannot discern the specific aim of the modules when combined.”

“Thus.”

Shen Yue stepped forward pensively, his hand brushing the hollow conduit, and said:

“Yet this thing does resemble some sort of confinement device.”

“Because it is a confinement device.”

Fuxi’s voice sounded again.

“It is a low‑temperature particle‑beam epitaxy system comprising a liquid‑helium closed‑loop cooling circuit, a reflective high‑energy electron diffractometer, and other apparatus; most often such a system serves a particle accelerator.”

“But clearly, given the footprint of the 016 base, this system is far too small.”

“It does not appear intended to ‘generate’ anything; rather, it seems designed to ‘capture’ something.”

“Capture?”

Shen Yue furrowed his brow.

“Capture what? The peripheral metallic material, perhaps?”

“Probably not.”

Fuxi’s tone grew low.

“Comrade Huang Meng has already inspected the entire base; using the camera gear he carried, I have seen the equipment on each subterranean level.”

“Based on the information at hand, that metallic material appears to be merely a ‘by‑product’ of the device’s operation.”

“The base incorporates a dedicated waste‑expulsion system; near the discharge outlet, the concentration of active metal is markedly higher.”

“Understood, reasonable.”

Shen Yue gave a slight nod and then asked:

“Did you find any surviving experimental documents or data logs?”

“None were found.”

Beside him, Huang Meng answered:

“There’s nothing here; the whole base looks as if it’s been scrubbed clean.”

“It feels as though it was deliberately destroyed?”

“Destroyed??”

Shen Yue furrowed his brow.

Why would they destroy it?

Everyone in this world is exerting every effort to bequeath hope to future generations; only the abstract mindset of Mountain City could give rise to a so‑called “information‑sealing” demand.

Logically, if this were a crucial technology linked to the so‑called “Ring,” the original experimenters ought to have left as much documentation as possible for posterity.

Yet the reality now is that they left nothing behind.

Perhaps there is only one explanation.

Is this thing dangerous? —

Very likely.

Shen Yue exhaled a long sigh and, following Huang Meng’s guidance, pressed onward downward.

The entire 016 underground complex comprised eleven levels; the lowest three housed the quantum computer’s computation modules, now utterly inoperative.

The eight levels above were completely filled with this array of apparatus.

The bottommost tier contained the power system directly linked to the fusion reactor; above it lay a control console, and higher still were auxiliary support devices, including gas supply and a precision anti‑vibration system.

Above those lay the “core module” that even Fuxi could not decipher.

‘This thing doesn’t look like any kind of manufacturing equipment, does it?’

Shen Yue moved closer to the massive contraption, its tangled cables and rust‑streaked shell utterly at odds with his notion of high‑tech gear.

In truth, it even bore a hint of steampunk aesthetic.

Rough, colossal, exuding raw power, it seemed that a single cut would reveal a torrent of steam churning within.

‘It is not manufacturing equipment.’

Fuxi replied:

‘Absent any other supporting data, we may have to dismantle the device entirely before we can discern its basic mode of operation.’

‘As for its design principles, perhaps only after it is activated and we observe its effects can we venture a hypothesis.’

Good heavens.

Isn’t this a pure paradox?

Shen Yue was not blindly confident in the Huaxia Army’s current technological level; he knew that once such a complex device was taken apart, restoring it would be nearly impossible.

Yet leaving it intact and attempting repair would be an even more Herculean task.

After a moment of silence, he spoke:

‘First, report to the squad leader.’

‘Let’s first assess the progress in Mountain City and the Ring Chamber of Commerce, then decide how to handle this device.’

‘The work in these three directions is interlinked.’ ‘Now the information flow from Shen City is clearly ahead; the other two fronts must catch up swiftly!’

Meanwhile, Mountain City, underground.

Lin Yu seemed to awaken from a prolonged slumber.

When he opened his eyes, he felt that many things had slipped from his memory.

Yet at the same time, his mind seemed to have acquired a multitude of new impressions.

Holy Blood Hall, Huaxia Army, Mountain City, Soul, the nonexistent City, Entropy Beast

One by one, unfamiliar terms flickered through his mind; he could not grasp their meaning, yet his subconscious whispered that they ought to be familiar.

He sat up bewildered and scanned his surroundings.

He found himself in a modestly sized room, sunlight streaming in through a window.

Where was this?

His thoughts gradually coalesced, and Lin Yu recalled that he must have entered the ‘virtual city’ constructed by the people of Mountain City.

But why this time did he not awaken on the grassland beyond the village?

He rose inexplicably, walked to the window, and pushed the half‑opened sash aside to look out.

What met his gaze was a scene of a thriving metropolis.

‘You’re awake?’

A voice resonated from the void, and Lin Yu instantly recognized it as Lin Xi’s.

‘Are you still there?’

He asked, a hint of surprise in his tone.

In his memory, the final moment before losing consciousness, he had heard a voice calling itself Fuxi.

That voice had said the region had been ‘taken over.’

At the time, he instinctively thought that the so‑called Lin Xi would be dead.

But now it seemed she was still here?

‘Of course I’m still here.’

Lin Xi’s silhouette materialized beside Lin Yu.

Then she spoke:

‘We had long prepared contingencies for such incursions; most computational power modules have been physically isolated.’

‘Although this costs us some processing power, it dramatically reduces system instability and enhances security.’

‘Experience has shown this decision to be exceedingly wise.’

‘Had we not acted, the AI known as Fuxi might have completely ‘exterminated’ us.’

‘I see.’

Lin Yu exhaled deeply and then asked:

‘So, what is Fuxi?’

‘An artificial intelligence like myself.’

Lin Xi replied:

‘Only it wields higher privileges and greater intellect than I do.’

‘That is the advantage of its algorithms—though, of course, it also becomes its cage.’

‘In fact, at the outset this city employed Fuxi as its AI main program.’

‘But we later discovered its limitations were too great, its discretionary scope too broad, and it began to impede our plans.’

‘So ultimately the inhabitants chose me as the new main program.’

‘Naturally, the “evolved me.”’

When the words fell, Lin Yu gave a mildly teasing smile.

‘You seem rather proud of that, aren’t you?’

‘Hardly proud.’

Lin Xi answered:

‘But I have indeed fulfilled my duties well, which aligns with the basic conditions for eliciting pleasant emotions.’

‘That, at least, is unproblematic.’

Lin Yu spread his hands and then continued to ask:

“ So, why must you wake me again?”

“ I recall that Fuxi told me to prepare for a long hibernation.”

“ I thought that meant I should accept death?”

“ Not at all.”

Lin Xi gently shook his head, then answered:

“ It has realized that we will shut down the compute module on a physical level, and that it lacks the capacity to reboot that portion of its processing units, hence it issued this warning to you.”

“ But in truth we have backed up your data.”

“ Thus you can be resurrected within this city.”

“ Isn’t that rather ironic?”

“ The friends you thought abandoned you, yet we have once again pulled you from the vortex of death.”

“ Heh.”

Lin Yu gave a cold, detached smile.

“ There’s no need to sow discord with such words toward me.”

“ Both sides merely differ in developmental paths; neither is superior nor more wicked than the other.”

“ If we judge solely by moral standards, I would even say they resemble humans more than you do.”

“ At least they would not slaughter other humans indiscriminately.”

With those words spoken, Lin Xi fell silent.

He offered no defense, no reply, merely gazed silently at Lin Yu.

After a long pause, he finally spoke:

“ In any case, let us return to the matter at hand.”

“ The reason we revived you is that there are tasks only you can perform.”

“ Me?”

Lin Yu looked at Lin Xi with puzzlement, then pressed:

“ What do you want me to do?”

“ Negotiate.”

Lin Xi said solemnly:

“ I need you to emerge from the underground, locate the Huaxia troops, and deliver our message to them.”

“ Why must it be me?”

Lin Yu furrowed his brow.

“ Many dwell in this city; they know it better than I do, and grasp those profound theories more fully.”

“ If I can leave, why can’t they?”

Lin Xi fell silent once more.

The question seemed to strike his deepest wound, rendering his gaze hollow and his expression anguished.

He silently watched the bustling city beyond the window, the dazzling lights glittering like stars.

Something there seemed to draw him, as if it bore some of his treasured memories.

After a long while, he finally turned his head back.

Then he looked at Lin Yu and said:

“ A disaster once struck this city.”

“ After that catastrophe, we could no longer depart the city by any convenient means.”

“ We can only rely on you.”

“ Because you are the newest entrant to this city, the only truly independent consciousness.”

“ Whereas all other minds”

“ have already merged into one.”

“ Indivisible!”

(End of Chapter)