Chapter 583: This Is a Necessary Sacrifice

Chapter 583: This Is a Necessary Sacrifice

When the "Viper" transport plane returned again, it was already two in the morning.

Arriving with this flight, besides the twelve members of the Gale and Killer Dagger brothers, was Ms. Chen Yutong, an active researcher from the scientific expedition team.

Seeing Chen Yutong jump out of the cabin, Old White's face showed a trace of surprise. He walked up to her and asked, looking at her.

"Why are you here?"

"Isn't the mental interference device here having some trouble? The administrator commissioned me to come and restore it to normal..."

Glancing around at the bloody mess, Chen Yutong felt her stomach churn. She averted her gaze from the mountain of corpses and sea of bones, looked Old White up and down, and asked with concern.

"Are you hurt?"

Old White gave a wry smile.

"What could happen to me? There were only about twenty of them in total."

The gear of that so-called Executioner Squad was indeed something, but honestly, their combat effectiveness wasn't that impressive, and they relied too much on their equipment. It was only natural they got their gold looted.

What Old White didn't know was that it wasn't that the Executioner Squad was weak, but that their own combat power was somewhat off the charts. Gaining recognition from the Vellantians couldn't be achieved by sheer strength alone.

With that squad's strength, they might not win a frontal battle against the Legion's youth army, but infiltration, sabotage, subversion, poisoning—those were routine for them. Assassinating a settlement's high-ranking officials was a piece of cake.

If the Torch Church had carved out such a large territory, turning countless survivor settlements within its diocese into puppets, at least half the credit had to go to the Inquisition.

But then again, that Executioner Squad never expected their optical camouflage to fail, which was why they didn't bother using it in the later fights.

They probably suspected until the end that the Alliance had mastered some technology to see through optical camouflage; otherwise, there was no explanation for why both their ambushes ended in failure.

Chen Yutong looked Old White up and down suspiciously, confirming he wasn't putting on a brave face but was genuinely unharmed. She then breathed a sigh of relief and curled her lips into a smile.

"I'm relieved you're okay."

Old White sighed.

"I'm definitely fine, but you might not be. This is a war zone, not a joke."

Chen Yutong blinked.

"You'll protect me, right?"

Old White was taken aback for a moment, then nodded.

"Of course. I'll do my best..."

Seeing that Chen Yutong had no intention of giving up on staying here, he couldn't help asking, "By the way, isn't your research on Nago? I remember your specialty is biology."

Chen Yutong smiled.

"That's right, but I've also dabbled a bit in research on mental interference devices. Remember? I asked you to accompany me to the eastern outskirts of Qingshui City before."

"I thought you were just curious for a visit."

"At the time, it was just a visit, but later I got personally interested, so I used the resources from the scientific expedition team to get a basic understanding."

As she said this, she couldn't help but curl her lips with pride.

That thing wasn't really difficult for her.

Her learning ability wasn't weak, especially in her field of expertise. Plus, her age was the golden period for scientific research. If the Academy's stage weren't so crowded, she wouldn't have been stuck at just an E-level.

A basic understanding, huh...

Old White felt a bit embarrassed hearing that.

Poor academic performance was a lifelong regret for him, and he probably wouldn't get a chance to make up for it.

Seeing Old White still standing there, Chen Yutong urged.

"Alright, don't waste time here. It's too late to send someone else. Take me there quickly."

Old White sighed and nodded.

"Follow me."

Through the stairwell, the two arrived at the basement of the annex.

As they passed the collapsed door, Chen Yutong saw the little girl tied up like a dumpling and another girl guarding her.

When she looked at Little Lamb, Little Lamb was secretly sizing her up too.

Chen Yutong stopped in front of her, bent down with her hands on her knees, and asked.

"Is this little sister your friend?"

Little Lamb nodded and whispered.

"...She's Sister Yinyin. She's two years older than me."

"Yinyin, that's a nice name," Chen Yutong said, patting Little Lamb's head and curling her lips. "And you?"

Little Lamb shyly murmured.

"I... Little Lamb."

Little Lamb, huh.

On the wasteland, the most common names were mountains, rivers, spring, summer, autumn, winter, then grass, trees, insects, birds, tables, chairs. Even in some farming-based settlements, names like Ox or Horse were used, but Lamb was rare.

Chen Yutong was silent for a moment, then said softly.

"Your friend will get better."

Hearing this, Little Lamb's tense expression visibly relaxed, and joy appeared on her face.

She didn't know why she instinctively trusted this unfamiliar older sister, but she felt this sister knew a lot, like a doctor.

"And... the people outside..."

"They'll get better too."

But probably not back to how they were before.

The memories from the brainwashing wouldn't disappear, and the dead wouldn't come back to life. Even if it was just a brief stay, those crazy thoughts would linger when they sobered up.

The survivors of this settlement would probably spend a long time in fear and regret.

After all, not even half of those who died were actually killed by the Alliance soldiers' guns.

Seeing Little Lamb's joyful expression and Yinyin struggling as she twisted, Chen Yutong sighed softly in her heart and followed Old White to the lab at the back of the basement.

When she saw the experimental equipment in the cubicle along the corridor, her face showed surprise.

"...This is."

Seeing her surprise, Old White stopped and asked curiously.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing..."

For a biology lab, the equipment here was quite comprehensive.

Constant temperature incubators, clean benches, biosafety cabinets—those basic tools went without saying. More advanced devices like protein detection apparatus, cell synthesis devices, DNA synthesizers, and EEG monitors were all available.

These basic experimental tools weren't cutting-edge technology in the Age of Prosperity; they could be found in ruins of biology labs or pharmaceutical factories.

However, what was puzzling was that several pieces of equipment were clearly not recovered from the ruins, but were made after the Wasteland Era.

As for how she knew...

Because the models of those machines were practically standard issue in the Academy's Biological Research Institute.

She knew them better than she knew her own face...

...

He Anshui was the owner of the Green Pine Hotel.

His inn stood right by the gate of Pinecone Farm, easy to spot and easy to remember, for it was the only hotel for miles around.

His daily work mainly involved hosting traveling merchants and mercenaries, while also helping his master, Master Zhao, gather intelligence from the wasteland.

No settlement could grow wealthy on farming alone; there were always things they couldn't produce that needed trading with outsiders.

This was especially true for farming-based plantations.

Master Zhao knew well that Pinecone Farm needed those merchants, but he deeply distrusted those crafty fellows. Thus, even though there were plenty of empty houses in the settlement, he absolutely refused to let outsiders stay overnight.

Unless the merchant was someone he himself had appointed.

Thanks to this, He Anshui, running the only inn in Pinecone Farm, had managed to earn a small fortune with his exclusive license.

Although the lion's share of the income went to the master, he could still save some money from this business.

Moreover, he didn't have to go far away like Yang He, nor did he need to send his family as hostages to the manor's annex. The master trusted him completely, because he was right on the edge of the settlement.

Both in terms of people and property.

He Anshui was a man without ambition, with no extra thoughts, only wanting to live his life in peace. After all, running the inn for these years, he had seen too many wastelanders missing arms and legs.

Those fellows might have no masters, but that was all; if you turned their pockets out, they had nothing, and no one would ask if they died. Compared to that kind of hand-to-mouth existence, he much preferred a certain happiness.

Perhaps that was why his father named him "Anshui"—hoping he would be as steady as the water in the well in the backyard.

Speaking of which, that fellow Wu Wenzhou had returned, bringing news from the north that the wastelanders there, fed up with raiders harassing them, had finally decided to unite.

Seeing the way his face lit up when he talked about the alliance, He Anshui knew that this guy was probably thinking of leaving this place, but he just sniffed dismissively and didn't take it to heart.

It was fine to listen to outside matters for a laugh, but who knew how dangerous it would be to actually go there?

Besides, what was the big deal about corn at 0.9 silver coins per kilogram?

Could meat be cheaper anywhere else than here?

Here, whether it was gold or silver coins, one coin could buy a big basketful. He didn't care about other serfs, but at least he was comfortable.

Eating big chunks of meat, drinking big gulps of alcohol, and before he knew it, he was putting on weight.

The most comfortable place in this wasteland had to be Pinecone Farm...

I don't know how much time passed.

The buzzing that had been lingering in his ears finally faded, and his blurred vision gradually cleared. He Anshui shook his head and patted his old face with his right hand.

Splat—

The sticky sensation made him slightly uncomfortable.

Even if he didn't like washing his face, it wouldn't get so greasy that it could stretch into threads. His mouth felt the same, as if he had eaten a mouthful of rust, his throat stuck together.

"Was I asleep...?"

Mumbling vaguely, as soon as his mouth opened, something fell out, hitting the ground with a thud, splattering into a thick, crimson puddle.

Tomato... sauce?

Staring at the pool of red before his knees, he froze, slowly lifting his gaze, and then saw the unhuman "thing" lying in that bloodbath, along with familiar faces kneeling beside "that thing."

Among them were the inn's cook, the waitstaff, and nearby farming serfs... all sorts of twenty to thirty people, cramming the narrow guest room full.

They were just like him, kneeling on the ground, lost and helpless before that unhuman "thing."

Vague memories began to surface.

He Anshui recognized the room; it was exactly the guest room of his old friend Wu Wenzhou, who often traveled far away.

Come to think of it, at noon, he had wondered why that guy didn't go home when he was right at the doorstep, but instead came here to join the mercenaries' fun.

He had already guessed who that unhuman fellow was...

Actually, there was no need to guess.

He remembered it all.

"Old... Old Wu..."

He Anshui's lips began to tremble, his face lost color, and as if shocked by electricity, he jumped back, slumped to the ground, and scrambled backward to the wall with his legs.

His soaked pants dragged a chilling trail of blood across the floor.

What have I done?

No...

Why?

His stomach felt as if a basin of sulfuric acid had been poured in, and He Anshui let out a retch, curling up in the filth of blood and vomit, trembling convulsively.

"Ah... kaka..."

He couldn't speak from his mouth, and didn't know what to say.

He wanted to ask why.

Why did it turn out like this?

Just a moment ago, everything was fine... why?

He had a belly full of questions, but didn't know who to ask.

The people kneeling beside Old Wu were the same as him: gradually waking up, then gradually filled with terror and despair, then vomiting all over, squeezing tears and gastric acid out of their bodies in one go...

People knelt on the ground, confessing, or howling in catharsis, or banging their heads against the wall, trying to end this tragic dream, numbing their nerves with pain.

Pinecone Farm was once again filled with waves of wailing and lamentation.

And this time, it seemed even more miserable than the first half of the night...

...

A pure white room.

Scenes of tragedy were gathered in palm-sized screens, forming a semi-arc wall.

Sitting in the center of the room, the old man quietly watched the human purgatory unfolding, his calm, expressionless face finally dissolving into a soft sigh.

Even though he knew this was a necessary sacrifice on the road to utopia.

Even though he knew those creatures were just penned livestock.

Seeing this miserable scene, he still felt a pang of compassion.

Even a mind-interference device could not achieve 100% brainwashing; even Nago had immune individuals, let alone a technology still in its infancy.

The 03 band would make 99% of people eat the remaining 1%. If those 99% of test subjects were to wake up, at least half of them would be shattered by their own memories.

So he asked the mutants to come and clear the scene.

His purpose was to ensure that those experimental subjects would die without pain after the experiment ended.

This was the greatest mercy he could offer to those who had sacrificed their lives for the glorious evolution.

Yet unexpectedly, those heartless bastards, who would stop at nothing to achieve their goals, had adjusted the frequency of the mental interference device.

This was a cruelty far worse than killing them.

“Indeed, I still need to cultivate myself…”

Sensing the flash of anger that had crossed his mind, Luo Qian lowered his brows and murmured to himself.

Earlier, when he had used Zhao Tiangan’s body to meet those children, seeing the stunned expressions on their faces, he couldn’t resist teasing them a little.

This was, in fact, improper.

Among the many bishops of the Torch Church, he belonged to the older generation, having entered the Sanctuary over a decade ago, yet his cultivation was the shallowest.

What was meant by “cultivation” here was not some practice technique or recited scripture, but rather a kind of harmonization or elevation of one’s own nature.

Humans cannot complete evolution on their own, just as one cannot step on one’s left foot with the right to ascend into the sky—this has nothing to do with the shoes one wears.

Even if technology could equip humans with wings, it could not make them think like birds born with wings.

Undoubtedly, humans at the top of the food chain are more advanced animals than birds; there is no need for humans to become birds. But when the development of civilization hits a bottleneck, and human feet leave the soil they depend on for survival, the inherent limitations of humanity gradually reveal themselves.

Perhaps this species is only fit for civilizations within a light-year’s reach.

What lies closer to the core of human nature than methods and systems forms the underlying logic of human civilization.

It is not a precursor technology to warp drives, nor does it solve any problems in the material world, but it will force humans to give back everything they are unworthy of possessing.

Otherwise, how could one explain that after marching toward the stars, having resolved all conflicts and moved from division to unity, the Human Union lost everything in just three years after a long period of prosperity?

The “Torch Project” offered one explanation.

The collapse of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee also provided another.

This species always lives in an unstable environment; once it perceives a threat to itself, it will inevitably find a way to strike first.

Only with a minuscule probability will they be lucky enough to bet on a bright future—and this, in the history of the Human Union, is usually crowned with names like “greatness” or “miracle.”

Because such things are rare.

Even if they have indeed occurred and significantly impacted the course of history.

The church born from the inspiration of the Torch proposed a solution.

To elevate this frail species of humanity to a new dimension, one must think from a standpoint above humanity. Becoming a “holistic life form” is only a crude explanation; what they truly aim to do is become gods.

Humans cannot adapt to life in the heavens.

But gods can!

For this reason, the bishops of the Torch Church must shed all attributes of being human and look down upon humanity from a standpoint outside it. This is also the fundamental reason why all bishops enter the “Sanctuary.”

Only by entering the “Sanctuary,” far from the bonds of earthly gravity, can one attain true divinity!

If they do not do this, they will eventually become like the earliest mutants—having become another species, yet still standing on human ground and thinking with human identities.

The result is obvious.

The mutant tribes born from this foundation inherited nothing from human civilization; instead, they seemed to retrace the path humans had walked from primitive society.

And as for themselves, they were either killed or driven mad.

Luo Qian often lamented that although he had abandoned his physical body, it was still difficult to completely sever ties with human nature.

Perhaps it was because he had already been too old when he entered the Sanctuary; outdated notions seemed to have grown into his decaying flesh, etched into the circuit boards along with the electric current.

He often envied that child.

The Holy Son they had chosen.

That one, like a blank sheet of paper, was the most perfect main god imaginable.

“I’m sorry, the execution squad has failed… The Alliance’s forces have occupied our research facility and transmitted the 05 frequency band through the mental interference device.”

“The interference we imposed on the experimental subjects… has been lifted.”

The voice drifting into his ears interrupted Luo Qian’s reverie.

With a light flick of his index finger, a pale blue floating window appeared before him, showing an apostle in a long robe kneeling on one knee, bowing his head in the darkness.

The background of the shot was the basement of the Pinecone Farm Church.

The shadow of the hood obscured the man’s face.

Though he could not see the apostle’s eyes, Luo Qian could feel the shame and remorse buried beneath the brim of the hood.

In fact, until the execution squad intervened, their experiment had been going smoothly, but their opponents were a bit too experienced on the battlefield.

Still, overall, the experiment was quite successful.

It just wasn’t perfect.

Not wanting to see these loyal children blame themselves, he comforted them in a gentle voice.

“It’s all right, my children. A small mistake means nothing to us, especially since we have already obtained the data we needed.”

“The Pinecone Farm experiment is over. Take that data and evacuate through the passage beneath your feet. Someone will meet you at the end of the passage.”

“As for the cleanup, the Qi tribe will handle it for us.”

The apostle bowed his head and replied respectfully.

“Yes, Your Eminence!”

A look of approval appeared on Luo Qian’s face.

But just then, his brow furrowed slightly, sensing a faint anomaly.

“Your Eminence…”

That was indeed his title, but it was usually used by secular personnel or outer-circle apostles.

The more formal honorifics were “Forerunner” or “Pioneer.”

Even some apostles close to the core of the Torch Church might privately use the titles “Bishop” or “Priest,” but this was not typical in superior-subordinate communication.

Of course, such a trivial matter was not enough to displease him; it merely stirred a hint of confusion.

To resolve his doubt, he looked down at the apostle and said,

“My child, lift your head.”

“Let me see your eyes.”

The apostle was clearly taken aback, evidently not understanding his intent, but he obediently complied, slowly raising his head to meet Luo Qian’s gaze.

Those eyes showed no abnormality.

They held the confusion and bewilderment common to any normal person.

If there was any flaw—

It was probably that they were a bit too theatrical.

Those were not human eyes.

Rather, they were the eyes of a "thing" wearing human skin...

At that moment, Luo Qian finally realized where that faint sense of dissonance came from.

As he saw through the shoddy performance, his murky pupils gradually took on a hint of killing intent, and he reached a withered finger toward the screen before him.

He would tear this bastard apart!

At the very moment he extended his hand, the paper-thin figure hidden in the screen seemed to sense the danger and darted backward, as if trying to put distance between them.

The image on the screen shook violently, as if an earthquake had struck; the man fled desperately into an underground tunnel, yet no matter how he ran, he remained within that paper-thin screen.

He didn't know how this creature had infiltrated his memory partition, but if it thought it could leave here alive, it was far too naive.

Watching that pitiful wretch who had cleverly walked into a cage, a cruel smile slowly curled at the corner of Luo Qian's mouth.

"You can't escape."

But just then, something unexpected happened.

His words had barely fallen when the screen right before him vanished with a "pop."

His right hand grasped empty air; his expression froze instantly, and then a flicker of annoyance surged in his murky pupils.

"Tch..."

Outsmarted...

That Zhao Tiangan was dead, so he had stopped paying attention to the now-useless corpse, never expecting that the abandoned interface installed in that man's head had been exploited by the other side.

To even recover that man's body under those circumstances... He had underestimated those vermin.

He tapped open the communication interface with his index finger.

Luo Qian was about to inform the four apostles remaining in the settlement about the intelligence leak, but the communication-disconnected icon was glaringly displayed beside those four names.

His expression shifted from astonishment to gravity.

After seizing the mental interference device, the enemy had not shut it down but instead increased its output power, expanding the interference range beyond the manor.

No wonder they had so quickly lifted the interference of Band 03 on those survivors...

Now no one could contact the four apostles in the settlement; he could only pray they were smart enough to withdraw from the settlement immediately if things went wrong.

The only consolation was that if he couldn't reach the four apostles, the Alliance people probably couldn't reach the soldiers in the settlement either.

At least for a while, those children were safe.

Yet even so, Luo Qian could not be optimistic.

He closed his murky eyes, let out a soft sigh as he sank into thought, and muttered to himself.

"This is troublesome..."

...

The bridge of the Steel Heart.

Zhao Tiangan's corpse lay on a stretcher, already cold for some time.

When the "Viper" transport had returned earlier, it had taken the body to the Alliance's military base at the provincial border, and later, under Chu Guang's orders, another "Viper" had brought it here.

At this moment, a expressionless android was kneeling on one knee beside him, its index finger inserted into his nostril, a pale blue data stream flickering in its pupils.

Suddenly, its body swayed slightly, and its eyes closed. At the same moment, a thin wisp of blue smoke curled out from the corpse's nostril.

As if something had been burned away.

Eclipse's eyes opened again; the string of pale blue data stream had vanished, and its index finger withdrew from the corpse's nostril.

Having waited for a long time and finally seeing a result, Frost stepped forward more eagerly than anyone else and asked.

"How is it?"

Eclipse glanced at Frost, then at Chu Guang standing nearby, and spoke in a calm, unruffled tone.

"The church's basement... there's a passage leading outside. Those apostles should be there."

"Thank you, good work!"

Chu Guang nodded in thanks, then instructed Xiao Qi to update the new intelligence and tasks on the players' terminals.

Although the signals around the manor were jammed by the mental interference device, the official forum of the other world was unaffected.

His good brothers, adept at exploiting game bugs, had specially arranged for someone to stay offline and monitor, just to receive firsthand intelligence when communications were cut.

Playing games with smart people is a very pleasant thing.

"You're welcome! It's our honor to serve you," Frost said with a bright and charming smile, cutting in front of Eclipse. "If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to trouble us!"

Eclipse said nothing, silently staring at its right hand, its eyes full of confusion.

"How strange..." it murmured to itself.

How did that guy figure it out?