Beyond the Galaxy Ch154

Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 154

Darius Bayes walked into the greenhouse of White Radiance Palace amidst a storm of lightning and thunder. As he stepped through the alloy glass doors, the harsh winds and relentless rain of the outside world were immediately left behind. Inside, the greenhouse was filled with the sounds of birds and the fragrance of flowers, as if it were an entirely different world. Darius removed his rain-soaked overcoat and handed it to the attendant standing by the door. The attendant bowed and left, leaving Darius alone in the greenhouse. The admiral knew that when he exited the greenhouse, the attendant would be waiting in the same spot with his coat dried and pressed—if he were to leave alive.

Darius wore a meticulously pressed military uniform under his overcoat, the stars on his shoulders gleaming. He was an officer of the Empire, and even in his final moments, he would fulfill his duties, defending his nation and dying with the dignity of a soldier.

He walked with heavy steps deeper into the greenhouse. Though the violent storm outside was muffled, leaving the greenhouse in a state of calm, Darius’s heart was in turmoil, much like the stormy weather in the capital. He had spent much of his childhood wandering this greenhouse, playing hide-and-seek or war games among the trees and flowers with Annot, his cousin. When Alveira was old enough to join them, she would play as well. But after Darius went off to military school, his visits became rare. He still remembered the large banyan tree where Annot loved to hide, thinking no one would find him there. Alveira’s favorite tree was one that bore sweet and sour fruits. Darius recalled returning to White Radiance Palace during a holiday, only to find the fourteen-year-old princess directing his senior, Lagrange, to climb the tree and pick fruit, while Annot cheered from the side.

But the person who spent the most time here was the Queen herself. She cherished the greenhouse as much as she did the palace gardens, as if this were her true court. Darius had come today to pay his respects to the Queen. He knew he would find her here. She was always here.

Sure enough, by a spring, Darius saw the Queen dressed in black. She stood silently amidst the vibrant flowers like a shadow, yet her presence was overwhelming, eclipsing everything around her, even the thunderstorm raging above. Was she always like this?

Darius looked at the Queen and realized she was looking at him too. Behind the long black veil hanging from her hat, her deep purple eyes pierced through him like an arrow striking its mark. A chill ran down Darius’s spine, his body trembling with cold and fear. The person before him was Queen Noya I, his aunt, his queen, the woman who had raised him as her own. She had once been so kind, so gentle, but now she radiated a chilling aura, like a cruel queen ruling over a kingdom of ice.

When did she become like this?

Darius knelt, bowing to the Queen. He lowered his head deeply, trying to hide the unease on his face. “Your Majesty, Darius has returned.”

“It’s good that you’re back. You must be exhausted. I heard the battles were fierce. Were you injured?”

“No, Your Majesty. I am fine.”

Her voice is still the same, and she still cares about me! How could she be… How could she possibly be… Has she always been like this?

Darius’s hand, resting on his knee, clenched into a fist. He opened his mouth, but his voice trembled as he spoke. “Your Majesty… I have something I must…”

“Go discuss it with Alveira and the ministers. I don’t want to hear about it.” She was always like this, uninterested in state affairs, leaving everything to her ministers.

“Your Majesty, this matter…” Darius furrowed his brows in pain. “I must ask you personally.”

The Queen remained silent.

“Do you… hate my mother?”

Darius felt her heavy gaze fall upon him.

“Why would you think that, my child?”

“Because she… made that decision for you. She agreed to let the Empire Academy create an artificial body, to transplant your brain into it, allowing you to live on. Do you resent her for making that choice?”

“You know?” The Queen’s voice suddenly changed, losing its usual lethargy and becoming sharp and interested.

“Twenty years ago, when my mother brought me to the capital to visit you… I was outside the hospital room, eavesdropping.” The memory of that time flooded Darius’s mind, bringing a bitter taste to his mouth. Now, the decision-maker, Marquis Madonna, had passed away, while the Queen, once hanging by a thread, had been given a new lease on life in a different form.

“Then you must have also heard me say that no matter what decision Madonna made, I would not blame her. I accepted the choice she made for my fate. I didn’t hate her then, and I don’t hate her now.”

“Then why… why did you do this!” Darius shouted in anguish.

“What are you referring to, my child?”

“You are the ‘Fifth Artificial Intelligence,’ aren’t you? Or should I call you ‘Human Intelligence’?”

A bolt of lightning split the sky.

The Queen’s face behind the veil broke into a smile. “You’re much smarter than I imagined, Darius. When did you start to suspect this secret?”

“I’ve always had doubts… but it was only just now, after hearing you speak, that I was certain.”

“It seems you don’t know the story behind Human Intelligence,” the Queen’s voice was soft and soothing, as if she were singing a lullaby instead of revealing a long-hidden truth. “The fact that I became Human Intelligence was entirely by accident. No one expected it to happen to me. The Empire Academy had been researching artificial bodies and human intelligence for many years—ever since Emperor Naser I ascended the galaxy’s throne, this secret research has never ceased. There’s a story passed down through the royal family: Emperor Naser feared the ultimate weapon created by the Old Earth scientists and intended to develop a method to rival it by exploiting the time difference. After 1,400 years of research, the technique of brain transplantation had finally matured. The goal of the generations of scholars at the Academy wasn’t to create independent human intelligence but to connect multiple human brains to enhance computational power, achieving the level of advanced artificial intelligence. However, before this research could be experimentally tested, I was in a car accident. That was twenty years ago.”

Darius knew what had happened afterward. Dr. Shannon, representing the Academy’s expert team, persuaded the Queen to transplant her brain into an artificial body, but the Queen couldn’t make a decision, so she called on Marquis Madonna to choose for her. Madonna chose to let her cousin live.

“After the transplant, I survived. But it wasn’t much better than death. Although I had a body, I was still an anomaly. What kind of human is one who survives only with a brain? If I’m not even human, then what am I?… These questions haunted me, making me lose interest in worldly matters, and I immersed myself day and night in pondering the meaning of my existence. During these long contemplations, I stumbled upon a small program embedded in this artificial body, which was connected to a computer at the Academy, monitoring my health. I found that my consciousness could enter that computer through this interface-like program and operate the computer as easily as I could my own body—it was almost the same! Didn’t the cyber hackers of the past connect to the superlight network in a similar way? But I was special—I didn’t have a body, only a brain, so I was even more unburdened! I easily infiltrated the Academy’s internal system and accessed all the research data accumulated over the years. I finally understood what Emperor Naser was afraid of. It was a terrifying monster called the Yasha, the most powerful, fearsome, and blasphemous creation of the ancient Earth scientists. No wonder the Empire Academy spent a thousand years and countless resources trying to find a way to counter it!”

“Driven by fear of this monster, I relentlessly searched for information about it, only to be disappointed by how little there was. So, I looked further afield. I roamed the superlight network, reached the Federation, and hacked into their central secret system, stealing their information. Do you know what I discovered, Darius? It turns out the Federation has been conducting similar research all along! But they took a different path, aiming to create a weapon even more powerful than the Yasha to destroy it. It seems that whether in the Empire or the Federation, our ancestors all shared the same fear of that monster on Old Earth, which transcended time and space!”

“I had initially intended to gather intelligence from Neo Athens as well, but Neo Athens was protected by three advanced artificial intelligences, so I couldn’t break in and had to give up. However, the information I obtained from the Federation was already enough to shock me. I learned that the most advanced artificial intelligence could control the Yasha, making it obey its commands! The Federation even sent someone to Neo Athens to steal that advanced AI, but unfortunately, they failed—the thief they hired betrayed them at the last moment, selling the chip containing the AI to someone else. That’s when I had a new idea. Isn’t my current situation similar to that of an artificial intelligence? I’m even more advanced than an AI. I can easily do things they cannot! If that’s the case, then there’s no need for me to fear the Yasha anymore. If it dares to leave Old Earth, I can control it! Think about it, Darius—controlling the ultimate weapon that transcends time and space—wouldn’t that make me the ruler of all universes?”

The Queen burst into laughter. Indigo lightning made everything around them fragmented and monochromatic. The Queen spoke incessantly as if she were releasing years of pent-up silence, pouring out everything within her.

Darius was so shocked by the truth that he couldn’t move. “You didn’t have to do this!” he said sadly. “You are the Queen of the Galactic Empire. With just a word, countless people would lay down their lives for you! Why would you want to control the Yasha?”

The Queen’s laughter abruptly stopped. She looked at Darius Bayes with her purple eyes, as if seeing a stranger. “Would you join forces with ants to defeat an enemy, my child?”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Beyond the Galaxy Ch153

Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 153

“Attention all units, the first contraction of the Galactic Field is about to begin. Countdown in ten, nine, eight…”

“The Yasha’s location confirmed. Probability cloud computing system activated. Chaos model established.”

“Six, five, four…”

“Boundary calculations complete. Field generator attenuation effect initiated.”

“Three, two, one… Galactic Field first contraction complete. Re-positioning. Target confirmed. Contraction successful.”

Nolin Titian watched the holographic star map in front of him. The blue area indicating the range of the Galactic Field, which covered most of the galaxy, had just dramatically contracted, shrinking like a deflating balloon. Now, it was only half its original size, encompassing 60% of the Empire’s colonies and 37% of the Federation’s territory. The remaining 3% were barren, uninhabited planets that neither the Yasha nor humans had any interest in.

Within the blue area, a red dot was flashing continuously, appearing in different locations each time but never far apart. Nolin Titian knew this was the Galactic Field at work. The Yasha was trapped within it, not only restricted to operating within its range but also severely limited in its ability to perform spatial jumps. It could now only jump a maximum of 560 light-years at a time.

The Archon planned to gradually shrink the Galactic Field, eventually confining the Yasha to a very small area. Given the Yasha’s tendency to prioritize attacking warp engines, it would inevitably target the Prometheus. This was the moment Nolin Titian had been waiting for. The Prometheus was equipped with a device to create a singularity that would drag both the Yasha and the ship into a black hole, far from this universe, to the beginning and end of time itself, where it would wait for humanity.

The plan was incredibly dangerous and challenging, which was why Nolin Titian never intended to delegate it to anyone else. He might lose his life in the process, but that didn’t matter. He was wagering his life and the pride of Neo Athens to prove that 2,000 years after Earth’s destruction, human civilization and technology had risen again, surpassing their former glory.

A copy of the artificial intelligence David was aboard the Prometheus, but it was only for the ship’s maintenance, navigation, and communication. The activation of the singularity would be done by Nolin Titian’s own hand—the system itself could only be initiated by a human, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else take the glory of destroying the Yasha.

“Begin the second contraction of the Galactic Field!” the Archon ordered.

The process repeated, and ten seconds later, the Galactic Field shrank to a fifth of its original size. This was already a small area, and Nolin Titian, who knew the stars as well as his own backyard, could almost name every star system covered by the field.

“Archon Titian,” David’s image appeared beside the Archon, “The Yasha is moving towards the Empire capital, Unfallen Star. On its way, it destroyed fourteen colony satellites and twenty colony space stations, leveling the military base in the Mongarde star system. The Empire is urging us to eliminate the Yasha as soon as possible.”

Nolin Titian pressed his lips together. “I see it too!” The red dot on the holographic star map was rapidly moving toward Unfallen Star, leaving nothing but wreckage and ruin in its wake. The Archon could almost envision the monster easily slicing through steel beams, piercing skyscrapers, and massacring civilians. It seemed to be defiantly crossing half the Empire’s territory, heading for the heart of the nation, as if something there was calling to it…

“Where is the artificial intelligence Leonard?” the Archon suddenly asked.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Is there something you don’t know?”

“Leonard cut off communication with the outside world. Now, no one but himself knows where he is.”

Titian stared at the red dot on the star map, which was swiftly moving. It crossed a spiral galaxy, then a nebulous star cloud, and suddenly stopped!

One second… two seconds… Titian watched the red dot for a full ten seconds, and in that time, it didn’t move at all! Even if Yasha had stopped to destroy something, it usually finished within seconds, but this time, it remained motionless for ten seconds, maybe even longer! Titian began to suspect that the tracking system had malfunctioned.

“Check the tracking system, David,” the Archon said. “We’ve lost the Yasha.”

“It hasn’t been lost, sir,” the AI replied. “We’ve been monitoring it the whole time. Not only that, but we’ve also found Leonard.”

……

The Lady of the Night exited its warp state, and before Leo’s eyes lay an expansive nebula. In the images captured by his radio telescope, the nebula glowed with a beautiful purple hue, like a field of flowers blooming in the universe.

As expected, Leo encountered the Yasha here. He knew the Yasha would come for him because he wasn’t just aboard Neo Athens’s most advanced ship—he was also the first and most advanced artificial intelligence humanity had ever created. The Yasha must have an overwhelming desire to kill him.

Two thousand years ago, when Leo first opened his eyes from the void and saw the world, his creators had decided not to give him the mission of controlling the Yasha. The scientists feared that an AI with self-awareness might manipulate the Yasha beyond human control. They preferred to confine the Yasha to Old Earth rather than let it be unleashed into the universe by a disembodied mind. At first, Leo had mocked their conservatism and unfounded fears, but now he was no longer sure. If he really controlled the Yasha, what would he do with it? Follow Neo Athens’s instructions and send it to the end of time, or… or…

Leo dared not think further.

“It is sweet yet bitter, like wine but also poison…”

The AI immediately connected to the Yasha’s system. The components inside the Yasha were nothing like those of an ordinary computer—it didn’t even seem like something humans could create. In a normal superlight network, Leo could clearly see the path of every piece of information, reading out every bit of data he wanted. Everything was laid out before him, ready for the taking. But inside the Yasha’s system, it was as if he was walking through an endless starry sky, with even the closest star beyond his reach. A dark river flowed past him, through him, and beyond. Emptiness, weightlessness, dizziness—these were feelings an AI should never experience, yet they flooded Leo’s mind in an instant. He also felt “vastness”—not in the spatial sense, but as a depth in time. History and the future appeared before him like ancient film reels, from which he could select any frame to view. But at the same time, they were also like a deep well, with darkness below that could not be observed, and air above that could not be touched.

Helplessness.

Leo felt helpless. He now possessed the entire ocean but sat in a small canoe with only a spoon in his hand. He could neither sail far nor return to shore, and soon, he would die of thirst. It was terrifying.

“It drags you into hell, never to return…”

Leo tried to sink deeper into the Yasha’s system. Here was a whirlpool of chaos, where data was piled up haphazardly, like a shoddily constructed building. But it was as high as the heavens, containing everything one could want. And yet, it held nothing. It was more void than the universe before the Big Bang, emptier than a collapsing black hole. All that was here was despair. Leo even felt that the Yasha, if it explored its own depths, could eventually reach the end of time.

“And yet it drives you mad, making you crave it all the more…”

Leo looked up, staring at the voice coming from above—he could now see the color and shape of sound. In the Yasha’s world, those were just another form of data.

There was someone else here.

Leonard became alert. If anyone else could penetrate the Yasha’s interior, it could only be the elusive “Fifth Artificial Intelligence”.

“Show yourself!” Leo demanded.

Then he saw a fragment of red laughter, like a splash of blood on white snow. The Fifth AI was here, existing in a way Leo couldn’t comprehend, and it had already taken control of this space!

“It’s you who needs to leave.” These words rose from the abyss below, like broken souls ascending to the sky. “I have already mastered the Yasha, and you, Leonard, should bow to me—the master of time and space.”

“Keep dreaming,” Leo replied coldly. His words turned into a swirling mist, quickly dissipating into the void.

“I have indeed been dreaming all along,” the Fifth AI said. “Humans live their entire lives dreaming. The external organs send everything they perceive to the brain, and the brain weaves it all into a dream. So-called humanity should strip away their flesh, leaving only their brains, and connect them to each other. That way, everyone would live solely in the world of thought, and each person’s world would be interconnected. This is the ultimate form of human communication. Civilization, technology, the world—they’re all just external shells, fragile containers, and illusory mirrors. Humans should abandon them to complete their final evolution!”

“You talk as if you’ve already evolved,” Leo’s words were now frozen solid.

“Indeed!” The Fifth AI said. “I stand at the pinnacle of evolution, looking down on you all! You’re an artificial intelligence, more knowledgeable about the world’s vastness than humans. You’re superior to them; you can make thoughts cross tens of thousands of light-years in an instant, yet you choose to be a slave to humanity!”

“I don’t see myself as a slave.”

“How pitiful, Leonard! I pity you! We could have evolved human society into its ultimate form together, then become the absolute rulers of every universe, but you gave up that glory! How pitiful!”

“You’re the one who’s pitiful!”

Leo launched an attack on the Fifth AI. Streams of light burst from his form, erupting like magma and shooting towards the sky! In an instant, even this void realm was illuminated by his light!

He would drive the Fifth AI out of the Yasha’s body and seize control!

The streams of light surged upward, only to be swallowed by a bottomless black hole!

“What!”

Darkness descended like a curtain, and Leo was plunged into absolute blindness. The chaotic data and the vast universe vanished from his sight, leaving only a faint shadow floating before him.

“How pitiful! You cannot comprehend my existence, so I must lower myself to let you see what I look like in this world before you die.”

The shadow took the form of a human. It was a young woman with radiant blonde hair and starry purple eyes. Was this the Fifth AI’s appearance…?

“Your Highness?”

No, this wasn’t the princess. They just looked alike. The woman before him wasn’t Alveira Chabais; she was the “Fifth Artificial Intelligence,” wielding infinite power.

“Farewell, Leonard,” the woman said haughtily. “As you wished, we’ll meet again at the end of time!”

In the real world, only ten seconds had passed. The Yasha, which had been hovering in space, letting the Lady of the Night approach, suddenly let out a long howl. Then, at a speed too fast for the eye to follow, it surged forward, the spikes on its arm extending and slicing the Lady of the Night from bow to stern!

Fire and explosions engulfed the pitch-black ship. Eight years after leaving the Neo Athens shipyard, it finally met its end amidst the brilliance of the stars.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Beyond the Galaxy Ch152

Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 152

The ship piloted by Epolyne broke free of Earth’s gravitational pull, reaching escape velocity and becoming another planet in the solar system. It continued to accelerate, passing through the orbits of Venus and Mercury, narrowly avoiding the sun—a blazing ball of fire—and then sped away in the opposite direction. The ship’s speed kept increasing, nearly reaching the speed of light. Soon, it would pass through the asteroid belt and enter a safe zone for warp travel. After that, a not-too-long journey would take her across millions of light-years, leaving this desolate region behind and returning to the Galactic Federation.

Then, something strange appeared before her.

It looked somewhat like the cyborgs created by Dr. Frank Shelley, but as Epolyne zoomed in with her optical telescope, she realized it was entirely different. The being was humanoid, silver-white in color, with dark patterns across its body. Its head resembled an asymmetrically cut gemstone, and a pair of feathered wings hung down its back. It floated quietly in space, as if it was meant to be there, making Epolyne feel like she was the intruder in its domain.

The humanoid creature slowly turned to face Epolyne. Its eyes were fiery red, like two giant red stars orbiting each other. As it turned, its wings fluttered, like a warrior’s cape—if that were the case, then the stars were its throne, and the starlight was its crown.

The ship was approaching it at near-light speed. Epolyne nervously gripped the controls, watching the rapidly changing numbers on the display and the three-dimensional curves that marked the ship’s trajectory. The creature was right in the ship’s path. Epolyne adjusted the trajectory data to bypass the creature, but as soon as she altered the course, the creature moved to block it, as if it could predict the ship’s path and was waiting to collide head-on.

Has this creature gone mad? Epolyne thought in frustration. Colliding with a ship moving at near-light speed would puncture even a space station. Is this creature suicidal?

The distance between them rapidly closed, and even without the telescope, Epolyne could now see the creature clearly. She gripped the joystick tightly and slammed it forward, pushing the ship’s speed to 99% of the speed of light! Even the surrounding space seemed to distort with the speed! Whatever that thing was, colliding at this speed would obliterate it! Of course, the ship would also suffer significant damage, but its external armor would absorb some of the impact. That unarmed creature couldn’t possibly withstand an interstellar ship!

The speedometer’s readings jumped wildly!

A second later, the ship collided with the creature! Epolyne barely had time to see the creature raise one of its arms—a bony, twisted limb adorned with sharp spikes. The spikes suddenly elongated, transforming into massive, razor-sharp blades. The blades reflected the starlight like divine swords of judgment, slicing the ship in half!

In her final moments, Epolyne realized what this creature was. It was the Yasha, the last and greatest creation of Old Earth’s mad scientists—the ultimate weapon designed to exterminate humanity, a sword of judgment forged by humans themselves.

Galactic Federation, Third Fleet Command.

General Surt stood on the bridge, a man in his sixties with a posture as straight as a spear planted firmly in the ground. His youthful vigor hadn’t faded, and his subordinates, inspired by his presence, also stood tall, as if slouching would earn the General’s disapproval.

The Third Fleet had long been stationed at the Federation’s borders, just a star system away from the Empire’s outer space city. They were always prepared to defend against an Empire invasion or to launch an attack themselves. Years of combat had forged these soldiers into the most elite forces, making the Third Fleet the undisputed strongest in the Federation. With them guarding the frontier, the Federation was effectively shielded by an invisible interstellar wall.

In recent months, the two sides had refrained from clashing, and there had been no skirmishes. The General knew this was because the Empire had diverted most of its forces to fight in its civil war. With the enemy’s defenses weakened, now was the perfect time to seize territory. But the Military Council had issued strict orders for the Third Fleet to hold their position and not deploy a single soldier to attack the enemy. This left the General feeling frustrated. Now that the Empire civil war was over, they would undoubtedly reinforce their border defenses. Watching the perfect opportunity slip away, any soldier would be seething with anger.

“Report!” The adjutant approached the General and saluted. “A ship from Neo Athens, the Prometheus, is requesting to speak with you!”

“Neo Athens?” The General frowned. “They’ve been sending out a lot of ships lately. I wonder what they’re up to… Put them through!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a young man’s face appeared on the bridge’s screen. The General knew that Neo Athens’s artificial intelligence was unmatched in the universe, and it had likely already infiltrated his flagship, waiting for his consent to initiate the communication.

“Greetings, General Surt.” The young man’s tone carried the confidence and arrogance of someone accustomed to command. “I am Nolin Titian, the current Archon of Neo Athens.”

“Oh?” The General raised a graying eyebrow. “I’ve heard Neo Athens’s Archon is quite reclusive. I’m surprised to have the honor of meeting one. What brings you all the way out here to this remote sector? Are you planning a diplomatic visit to the Empire?”

“My destination lies elsewhere. I’m just passing through and thought I’d remind you of something. Your Third Fleet is equipped with the Empire’s most advanced ships and weapons, making you unstoppable in war. But that’s also a source of disaster. I advise you to order all ships to shut down their warp engines and reduce their propulsion to sub-light speed.”

The General couldn’t help but sneer. “It seems Neo Athens’s Archon has grown bold enough to give orders to the Federation’s military?”

Nolin Titian remained calm. “Not orders, General, just advice and a warning.” His silver eyes glanced to the side, as if someone was speaking to him.

“It’s here, General.”

“…What?”

The General was puzzled. What’s here?

“Report, General!” The bridge lit up with red alarms. “High-speed unidentified object detected from the Ophiuchus direction! The Kilimanjaro has been attacked… The Kilimanjaro has been sunk!”

“What!” The usually composed General was visibly shocked. “Who’s attacking? Is it Neo Athens’s ships?”

Before the communications officer could respond, another report came in. “The Minsk sunk! The Stockholm sunk! The Vesuvius sunk!”

“What on earth is happening!” In all his decades of military service, the General had never encountered anything so bizarre. The ships were sinking before they could even send out a distress signal. What kind of weapon could destroy them so quickly?

“The Edinburgh sunk! The Beirut sunk! The Alexander sunk!” The names of the ships, accompanied by death notices, echoed throughout the bridge. The General and his staff were stunned. The navigator pulled up footage from the optical telescope, pushing Nolin Titian’s face into the corner of the screen to make room for the surveillance images.

In the footage, the Federation fleet resembled a graceful, winding river flowing through space, with each ship like a shimmering wave on its surface. But now, the river was burning. Continuous explosions flared up within the fleet—engines were being destroyed, leading to massive energy releases and subsequent explosions. It was as if an invisible Death was dancing through the fleet, effortlessly wielding its scythe to reap lives.

“Archon Titian! What is happening!”

Nolin Titian’s face filled the screen again. He shrugged. “Its current target is propulsion engines. The Prometheus also had to abandon warp and faster-than-light travel, switching to sub-light speeds.”

“What the hell is it!” The General, forgetting rank and protocol, roared.

“A monster. We’re here to destroy it. In any case, General, please order your ships to shut down their warp engines and reduce speed.”

The General’s face turned red with anger. “Do as he says!” he growled.

Soon, all remaining ships of the Third Fleet shut down their propulsion engines, not even daring to activate the deceleration systems. The reports of ship sinkings stopped, and the explosions on the screen ceased. What had just happened felt like an illusion, but the scrolling list of losses at the bottom of the screen was a stark reminder of the recent carnage.

The General took a deep breath. “Archon, now can you explain what’s going on?”

Nolin Titian looked frustrated. “Damn, it got away.” He muttered.

“What?” the General asked.

“Nothing. I was saying, please inform the other units to also shut down their engines and reduce speed. As you’ve seen, there’s a monster out there busy exterminating humanity.”

The Archon’s vague explanation only heightened the General’s irritation. “You’d better explain yourself! What is that thing? Is it some secret weapon of Neo Athens? Are you using it to threaten the Federation?”

“It’s not something we created!” Nolin Titian replied. “It’s a mistake humanity made in its youth, and now we have to clean up the mess. No more idle talk, General. I have to pursue it, so I’ll take my leave.”

The screen went black, and the Archon’s departure was as abrupt as his arrival. Before the General could even get angry, the Prometheus had entered warp and disappeared from view.

“Damn it! He makes us shut down our engines, then he takes off at full speed!”

The adjutant hesitantly asked, “Um… Sir, should we restart the engines?”

The General gripped his graying hair in frustration. He wanted to, but who could guarantee that the creature that sliced through their ships like butter wouldn’t return? In the few minutes that had just passed, the Third Fleet had lost twenty percent of its combat power, an unprecedented disaster in the Federation’s 1,300-year history. The General had no idea what to say, much less how to report this baffling calamity to his superiors.

Half an hour later, the General finally mustered the courage to report to the Military Council. The Council assured him that he had made no tactical errors and that not only would he not face a court-martial, but he would also be commended for his quick response. The Council informed him of the creature’s name: “It came from Old Earth and is called the Yasha.”

The name was unfamiliar to the General. Of course, it wouldn’t be long before the Yasha’s name would echo throughout the galaxy, known to all. The war against it would become known as the “Yasha War”. In this war, all Federation and Empire ships would be forced to shut down their propulsion engines. For the first time in 1,300 years, the two sides would achieve a complete ceasefire.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Beyond the Galaxy Ch151

Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 151

“Casper!”

Alois couldn’t believe what had just happened. Casper had destroyed the field generator, released the Yasha, and then killed himself? Was that really Casper? The same Casper who had been his closest friend since their student days? The one who had written to him constantly during his two years in prison? The one who was more loyal than anyone?

Casper’s body lay on the ground like a discarded rag doll, blood flowing from the wound in his head, forming a dark red, winding river. Alois noticed that Casper’s lips still held a faint smile, like a warrior who had fulfilled his duty and embraced death with a sense of freedom.

Alois suddenly realized that he had never truly known Casper Shannon. Though they had appeared to be close, they were, in fact, complete strangers.

The ground beneath them began to shake, accompanied by a deep rumbling, as if some giant beast was roaring in anger underground. Joshua grabbed Alois from behind, pulling him back several steps just as a light fixture crashed down where he had been standing. If not for Joshua’s timely intervention, Alois would already be joining Casper in the afterlife.

“We have to go!” Joshua shouted, trying to drown out the ominous noise coming from deep below. “The underground supports are destroyed! This place is going to collapse any moment! We need to move now, or it’ll be too late!”

“But… Casper…”

Joshua grabbed a handful of Alois’s hair and yelled in his face, “He’s dead! He was a traitor! Why do you care? Damn it, we need to move!”

With that, he dragged Alois toward the escape route from the central control room. Thankfully, the passage was still clear. More lights fell from above, like a rain of glass, as two thousand years of rust and decay finally took their toll. Some of the shards landed on Casper’s lifeless body, but he would feel no pain now. He was already dead, buried in the place he had loved most—Old Earth.

The lower levels of the research facility had already begun to collapse. The massive computer, “Babel”, had lost its support columns in the explosion and was slowly sinking into the ground, kicking up clouds of dust. The scene was like something out of a myth: a tower to the heavens crumbling under divine wrath, its glory and pride buried in the dirt, never to rise again.

The escape tunnel wasn’t entirely safe either. The increasingly violent tremors made the passageway sway like a bridge in a storm. Joshua hauled Alois upward, and though he stumbled several times, Joshua pulled him to his feet each time, forcing him to keep moving.

The facility’s power had been cut, and the emergency lights in the escape tunnel could only last for an hour, casting an eerie green glow. The stairs seemed endless, and the exit remained far away. The passage was narrow and dark, but Joshua felt no fear. He had always walked such a dark path throughout his life, and he knew that hesitation would only result in being consumed by the collapsing ruins behind him. The only option was to keep moving forward. By his side was a ray of light that illuminated his bleak future, reminding him that if he kept moving, he would eventually leave this dark tunnel and return to the light.

A misstep caused Joshua to fall to his knees, but this time, Alois caught him.

“Are you okay?” Alois gripped his hand tightly, pulling him up. “I see light ahead—the exit is close!”

The scene felt familiar to Joshua. Holding his hand, escaping together from chaos… It reminded him of the time on Hecate, except back then, it was he who had reached out to Alois. Now, the roles were reversed.

He had saved him, and now, he was being saved.

The assassin couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go,” he said.

They continued to climb for about a minute before finally reaching the first auxiliary control room. Unlike the lower levels, this area was merely shaking, like an earthquake. They exited through the same passage they had used to enter and soon reached the surface. Two thousand years ago, Kester had shown young Joshua this escape route. Now, it had finally served its purpose.

Once they left the facility, the two men plunged into the dense jungle. The underground portion of the research facility was much larger than what was visible above ground. The white building had only been the tip of the iceberg. Though they were now treading on the forest floor, there was a vast underground cavern beneath them, ready to collapse at any moment. They found the shuttle they had used to travel to Earth, still lying quietly beneath a large broadleaf plant. Joshua opened the hatch, letting Alois climb in first. The latter instinctively took the pilot’s seat.

“So you don’t mind it being a paramecium now?” Joshua said as he climbed in and took the co-pilot’s seat.

“It’s a damn good paramecium!” Alois said, starting the engine.

The shuttle lifted off.

The blue ocean, green forests, and white research facility quickly receded into the distance. The acceleration caused Joshua to feel dizzy, but as he looked out the window, he saw that the forest around the research facility had caved in entirely. Dust rose from the trees like smoke, and flocks of unknown birds, startled by the sudden collapse, took to the sky in panic, circling above the forest. Amid their wings, Joshua caught a glimpse of the Yasha.

For some reason, Joshua felt that the Yasha wouldn’t attack them. Kester had once said that the Yasha prioritized attacking things that posed the greatest threat to it, and this primitive spacecraft was beneath its notice. Its target lay millions of light-years away.

Bathed in golden sunlight, the Yasha’s steel bones and muscles gleamed brilliantly, while the red veins that wrapped around its body looked like intricate patterns. Transparent feathers fluttered behind it, resembling delicate wings. The Yasha took flight alongside the shuttle but didn’t attack. It quickly sped past and disappeared into the white clouds.

It had left Old Earth and was heading for the cosmos.

As the shuttle exited the atmosphere, Joshua took one last look back at Earth. It had already shrunk to a small dot. The blue ocean dotted with islands, home to countless new life forms, was all that remained of his birthplace, his homeland, where his best and worst memories of youth resided. He had left once before, and now he was leaving again—this time, for good. Joshua silently vowed never to return. Children grow up and eventually leave the cradle. He, too, would learn to say goodbye to the past and continue moving forward.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch66

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 66: Observation Diary

After setting up the human nest, Bai Shuangying officially began his grand observation plan.

Fang Xiu clearly liked the location. He heated up a can of food by the stove and ate it while watching some TV.

After a warm dinner, everyone smoothly split into two groups. Fang Xiu and Blondie took the first half of the night watch; in the second half, when the yin energy faded, Guan He, Cheng Songyun, and Mei Lan would take over for exploration.

This was only the first night. They planned to start with a defensive battle indoors.

Blondie idly took charge of combat defense, Fang Xiu focused on observing the evil spirits, and Bai Shuangying focused on observing Fang Xiu.

In the stillness of the night, the courtyard was indeed a “carnival of demons”. Evil spirits darted around like rabbits. But to Fang Xiu’s surprise, none of them were particularly strong, their main tactic was psychological horror.

For example, at this very moment, a group of evil spirits was forming a human pyramid outside the main room’s window. They pressed their faces hard against the glass while their butts were comically sticking up in the air, an indescribable pose.

Fang Xiu guarded with great enthusiasm for over ten minutes and finally complained, “Why aren’t they coming over?”

Such fresh ghost feed! Unfortunately, they had all targeted the newbies’ bedroom. They wouldn’t even approach the side wing, and barely a few gathered near Jiang Xun either.

Truly, how unfair. Some get nothing, while others drown in surplus*.

* The drought is too severe, you’ll die of thirst; if there’s too much rain, you’ll drown. (旱的旱死,涝的涝死。)  It’s an idiom describing extreme unfairness of two sides, where one side suffers from one extreme while the other suffers from the extreme opposite of the extreme. In this case, Fang Xiu’s group barely have any ghost haunting them, while the newbies are flooded with them.

Bai Shuangying couldn’t help glancing at the ghost jerky hanging on the wall and said nothing.

Blondie gloated, “All crammed up like that, those brats must be scared to death. How long do you think before they come begging?”

“I don’t think they will,” Fang Xiu replied casually, popping a candy into his mouth.

If they were truly smart, they’d never give up on contacting them. Even if the newbies didn’t fully believe Cheng Songyun’s explanations, they should at least understand the value of an experienced “ragtag team” in a brutal ritual.

But the newbies had still chosen the seemingly stronger lone wolf.

In other words, “decisive, ruthless strongmen” better matched this group’s preferences.

And such “strongmen” had an interesting trait: when weaker allies suffer nearby, they might not intervene; but if those weaker ones turned to others for help right under their noses, they might feel offended.

So unless it was absolutely necessary, the newbies wouldn’t rashly come asking for help.

Fang Xiu watched as a flickering light came from the west wing of the main room. After some muffled arguing, two figures finally opened the door. They were leaving the main room.

The moonlight revealed their faces: the couple who had drawn so much attention during the day. The moment they stepped into the yard, all the evil spirits melted into the shadows and countless glints of cold light flashed in the dark.

Even Blondie was shocked. “Wait, they’re going out in the middle of the night?!”

Even their own team, which had survived three rituals, stuck strictly to indoor defense the first night!

Fang Xiu stood up. “You stay here and keep watch. I’ll go see what’s going on.”

“Fang Ge, you’re going out to save them? Isn’t that unnecessary?” Blondie was stunned.

Fang Xiu blinked. “Their behavior’s too weird. I need to see what’s going on.”

Knowing Fang Xiu was good at staying hidden, Blondie thumped his chest. “Fang Ge, don’t worry! If any evil spirit comes, I’ll twist their necks myself!”

And so, a few minutes later, under the moonlight, a man and a ghost silently followed the couple.

“Leaving the house at night: no abnormality.”

“Leaving the yard at night: no abnormality.”

In hiding, Fang Xiu murmured observations, “But this forest at night… Haa.”

The moonlight was bright, the trees rustled, and the sound of insects was unusually clear.

Equally clear were the rising and falling murmurs. Countless voices were chanting incomprehensible syllables, forming waves of chill in the darkness. The distant town lights shone brightly as if they were from a different world.

Unlike in the yard, no evil spirits jumped out to startle them.

The shadows of trees swayed constantly, their silhouettes showing suspicious protrusions. The farther from the yard, the stronger the needle-like chill became. As the night wind passed through the treetops, Fang Xiu could barely tell if it was yin energy or just normal wind.

Fang Xiu instinctively tensed his back and gripped Bai Shuangying’s hand. Bai Shuangying, now warmed by Fang Xiu’s body heat, gave off a deceptive sense of warmth.

But the couple walking ahead showed no fear, as if the outside world had nothing to do with them.

Seeing the man’s movements grow increasingly stiff, Fang Xiu frowned. “That guy…”

“He’s dead,” Bai Shuangying said succinctly. “He was already a corpse when he left the main room. What moves now is a body possessed by an evil spirit.”

Fang Xiu drew a sharp breath. Since the ritual began, this was his first encounter with such a classical evil spirit.

As they spoke, the curly-haired woman was playfully asking the corpse to carry her on his back. The autumn night was chilly, and she hadn’t yet realized her boyfriend was cold as ice.

The corpse obediently carried her and headed straight for the wind barrier. Even as they approached the edge, it didn’t slow down.

Fang Xiu’s brow furrowed tighter.

He had no intention of saving the newbies, but he also couldn’t stand watching someone die right before his eyes. This situation looked far too unnatural. He still had questions for the curly-haired girl.

Just as Fang Xiu was about to speak up, a cold hand clamped over his mouth.

Bai Shuangying held him tightly, his arms like iron bands. His ghostly chest didn’t breathe. In that moment, Fang Xiu felt like he’d been locked inside a steel coffin.

The next second, the couple rushed into the wind.

The curly-haired girl’s scream was cut off instantly.

Fang Xiu watched with wide eyes as they collapsed. Within seconds, moisture drained rapidly from their bodies, and they shriveled into desiccated corpses. Then, with a gust of yin wind, the corpses were gently pushed back inside the wind barrier.

Their eyes sank; mouths slightly open. Their clothing had been torn to shreds by the wind, shoes and backpacks tossed aside. Under the hazy moonlight, they looked like two dead branches.

Fang Xiu held his breath, not daring to move.

The moment they stepped into the wind, he understood why Bai Shuangying had restrained him. Countless evil spirits emerged from the shadows, racing past him in a frenzy.

The wind barrier had barely spat the corpses back when the spirits swarmed like starving wolves, tearing the bodies to pieces. Flesh, soul, even their clothes—everything was devoured. Not even a strand of hair remained.

When they were done, the evil spirits even picked up inedible remains, like metal and plastic, and flung them outside the wind barrier.

No blood, no remains. The two had vanished as if into thin air. If Fang Xiu hadn’t witnessed it himself, he never would have guessed such a brutal form of “disappearance”.

Fang Xiu lowered his eyes, as if in mourning.

Bai Shuangying still had a hand over his mouth. His fingers nearly blocked Fang Xiu’s nose; Fang Xiu’s warm breath puffed onto his fingertips, soft and hot.

Bai Shuangying squeezed his human experimentally. What kind of reaction would he have after a failed rescue?

After a while, Fang Xiu sighed.

“Looks like the evil spirits here aren’t treated very well, huh.”

Bai Shuangying took a few seconds to confirm he hadn’t misheard.

“Thanks for holding me back. Otherwise, they could’ve trampled me to death.” Fang Xiu patted his chest in lingering fear. “…So, want to take a walk with me? The moon’s gorgeous tonight. It’d be a waste not to go on a stroll.”

Bai Shuangying: “……”

The reason he’d agreed to accompany Fang Xiu outside was so he’d see firsthand the consequences of leaving the yard, to make sure his human would firmly stay put.

…You can’t escape, but look, I can protect you. Only I can protect you.

…You don’t need to leave. Everything you need is here. In exchange, give me all of yourself.

It was a perfect plan, but what was with this relaxed reaction?

Those evil spirits just ate two people right in front of you! And you still want a moonlight stroll?!

Seeing Bai Shuangying unmoving, Fang Xiu offered, “If you don’t want to, we can just go back…”

Bai Shuangying gritted his teeth. “I want to.”

Fang Xiu’s eyes lit up. He grabbed Bai Shuangying’s wrist and led him toward the brightest moonlight.

Bai Shuangying followed behind in confusion, questioning everything he knew about humans, and about Fang Xiu. He just couldn’t make sense of it.

Despite Bai Shuangying’s concealment, plenty of evil spirits still wandered the night.

Fang Xiu calmly stepped over snake-women, ignoring the one-eyed birds crouching in branches. He stretched under the moonlight, basking in its glow, and casually slapped a giant moth flying at his face.

“This is my favorite ritual so far.” Fang Xiu pushed a skull spirit off a stump and sat down.

The skull, unable to see hidden Fang Xiu, spun its head around in confusion. Fang Xiu reached out and patted its head twice.

The skull sizzled, yelped, and literally rolled away.

Fang Xiu marveled, “So timid.”

Bai Shuangying said nothing, sitting slowly beside him.

Fang Xiu clearly misunderstood Bai Shuangying’s sullen look. “Don’t worry. That wasn’t the evil spirits’ doing. I’m not going to suddenly drop dead in the house.”

Bai Shuangying already knew what had happened. Since he hadn’t spoken up earlier, now all he could do was grunt awkwardly.

Fang Xiu, thinking he didn’t understand, explained patiently, “So far, the evil spirits in the yard are the weakest. If they could kill silently, they’d have gone on a rampage already, not fled outside.”

“And the choice of possession was interesting too. The pierced-lip guy kept violating taboos and wasn’t well liked. Even if he started acting weird, the others wouldn’t stop him. At most, they’d suspect something ritual-related.”

Bai Shuangying stayed silent and continued to play dumb.

“This feels less like evil spirits killing on their own and more like someone using the newbies to test the death taboo. At least now we know: ‘Don’t walk into the wind or you’ll die’.”

“Most likely,” Bai Shuangying admitted helplessly.

The possession trick had indeed been Jiang Xun’s doing.

Bai Shuangying had smelled the foul magic of a dark Taoist on the pierced-lip guy. He hadn’t spoken up immediately, wanting to confuse Fang Xiu’s understanding of the taboo… How long did that last? Maybe the time it takes to burn one incense stick?

It was only the first day, and Fang Xiu had already figured out the death taboo.

Why couldn’t his human be a little dumber?

Bai Shuangying slumped slightly, part of his body beginning to melt back into his true form.

Direct interference wouldn’t work. How could he make this human stay in the den willingly?

Beside him, Fang Xiu looked up at the stars. “Wow, you can see Orion so clearly.”

“Orion?” Bai Shuangying echoed blankly.

“In ancient time, they call it Shenxiu, referring to those three stars in the middle.” Fang Xiu pointed upward. “City lights are usually too bright. I can’t even remember the last time I saw it.”

“They’re just stars.” 

Bai Shuangying looked up at the sky. He’d been with these stars for so long but never cared about their names. Stars were just stars. Even if humans gave them strange names, they wouldn’t respond.

Fang Xiu had long been accustomed to his ghost’s cold way of speaking. He continued calmly, “The light from those stars takes over a thousand years to reach us. So what we see is what they looked like a thousand years ago. Isn’t that interesting?”

Bai Shuangying froze. “?!”

This was news to him. He’d thought stars were just smaller than the moon.

“…Even if a star died now, we’d still see its light for a thousand years.” Fang Xiu gazed at the sky. “Would you say that its ‘lingering light’ means it still exists?”

Bai Shuangying didn’t know how to respond. He was still stuck on “stars are really far away”.

But Fang Xiu looked at him earnestly, as if this trivial question were incredibly important.

Bai Shuangying was silent for a long time, then replied, “It still exists.”

“Why?”

“Because I can still see it.” Bai Shuangying answered honestly, “Like how souls linger after death, they’re like fading starlight. Until their obsessions fade, they still exist.”

Fang Xiu: “That’s not a great analogy. They can become evil spirits or cultivate into a ghost immortal.”

“Even if stars go out, they might not disappear,” Bai Shuangying said uncertainly. He just had a feeling they wouldn’t vanish.

Fang Xiu looked at him silently with some complicated emotion in his eyes.

Suddenly Bai Shuangying had a flash of insight. “Don’t tell me, you’re already dead?”

If Fang Xiu were a well-disguised evil spirit, it would explain his calmness toward death and his ease with ghosts.

Bai Shuangying pressed his hand to Fang Xiu’s chest, trying to find flaws in his heartbeat.

Fang Xiu: “……”

He burst into laughter. “…Touch all you want… I guarantee you, I’m alive.”

He grabbed Bai Shuangying’s hand and moved it directly over his heart.

Bai Shuangying felt for a while and detected no yin energy or spells. Fang Xiu was indeed a genuine living soul. His heartbeat was strong, albeit a bit fast.

“I see,” Bai Shuangying muttered, reassured by the warmth under his palm.

Fang Xiu let go of his hand, and the complicated look in his eyes was replaced by a smile. He leaned against Bai Shuangying and resumed stargazing.

Bai Shuangying, however, stared at the sky suspiciously. He now suspected he was seeing the souls of dead stars.

Soon enough, Fang Xiu shifted his gaze from the stars to Bai Shuangying, and Bai Shuangying heard him trying to stifle laughter.

Finally, after their fourth interruption by clueless evil spirits, Fang Xiu stretched. “Let’s head back.”

Bai Shuangying gave a muffled grunt.

After a whole night, Fang Xiu had discovered the death taboo. Meanwhile, all Bai Shuangying had learned was some weird astronomy knowledge, which wasn’t worth it at all.

Maybe next time he shouldn’t agree so easily, he thought.

But as they left, Fang Xiu looked back at the woods. “This place is perfect for walks. There are more evil spirits here than in the courtyard… I’m already starting to miss it, haa.”

Maybe next time, let’s just go out again, Bai Shuangying thought.


The author has something to say:

A romantic night stroll for the young couple!!


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch65

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 65: Horror Comedy

Lu Yang felt like everything was a nightmare.

He knew the other eight people in his team, but none of them were close.

They were all adventure enthusiasts who had chatted online for a long time. Last year, they formed a ten-person group to explore an uninhabited area.

Back then, they were young and reckless, convinced those safety warnings were exaggerated. With ten people and good prep, how bad could it be?

…Then they got lost. The signal was lost, resources ran out, and they nearly all perished.

Two people died in the wilderness, and the rest were carried out by rescue teams.

The incident got moderate media attention. The authorities just used them as a cautionary tale, warning non-professionals to stay away from uninhabited areas. But only the survivors knew the truth: those two deaths weren’t simple “accidents”.

After they got lost, one person was bitten by some kind of insect and developed a high fever.

They were just internet acquaintances. No one wanted to drag along dead weight.

The guy with the pierced lip was the first to speak up. Everyone was struggling to survive, so they might as well abandon the sick one. It was better to take all the resources and increase everyone else’s chances.

Lu Yang couldn’t bear it and voiced his opposition, only to be told, “Then you take care of him.”

So Lu Yang fell silent.

Another girl also seemed unwilling. Ever since they abandoned the sick person, she hadn’t said a word. As things got more desperate, her mind began to unravel.

She would cry when lucid and scream things like “We’ll all get punished” and “I’m calling the police.” during episodes. Until one morning, Lu Yang woke to find the girl gone and somehow, there was some extra meat at the camp.

In a daze, he asked the others and was told. “She was in a bad state. Might as well make use of her.”

They said there were lots of wild animals in this uninhabited area. It was better to just toss the body far away; no one would know.

They said they had no choice. She was useless, always going crazy with her episodes.

Lu Yang didn’t dare touch that meat.

But after being rescued, he said nothing. He once considered confessing the truth while facing the devastated families, but he was afraid…

If things blew up, irrational voices would emerge:

“You were so kind. Why did you let the sick guy die?”

“How do you prove you didn’t eat human meat?”

They were all hypocrites*. Everyone was just as guilty.

*The pot calling the kettle black.

And if he stood up, the other survivors would definitely retaliate and pin everything on him. There was no evidence. It was just one person’s word against another’s.

How could he face his friends and family?

He was still young. What if it ruined his future?

In the end, Lu Yang and the other seven survivors had a tacit agreement…no one would ever mention the past. They rarely even contacted each other… until they were dragged into this ritual.

So this is retribution, Lu Yang thought.

But thoughts were one thing. He still wanted to live.

Lu Yang had seen lots of media on similar topics. He knew the rule: If you’re not the expert, cling to the expert.

Now came the problem. As a newbie, you’re faced with:

A. A mysterious lone wolf who’s steeped in the metaphysics.

B. A ragtag group made up of an auntie, a blonde punk, a teenager, and a white-collar woman. Leading them is a skinny guy in a red T-shirt, with messy bangs that cover his eyes.

It was obvious who the expert was!

After benefiting from the expert and getting his fill of food and drink, Lu Yang finally relaxed. He decided to be upfront with Jiang Xun.

“Jiang Ge, my Underworld support ability is ‘corpse herding’.”

As long as he touches a human corpse, he can turn it into a puppet. But the effect only lasts for one ritual. The body resets after returning to the Tower.

Lu Yang had a whole explanation ready in his head, but Jiang Xun just gave him a quick glance and nodded casually.

So cool. Definitely a professional.

Aside from a little drama with that couple, the afternoon passed peacefully.

The newcomers started to relax and chatted about what to do at night.

“It’s too cold to sleep outside. We still need to stay in a house,” said a long-haired artsy youth.

Another guy with glasses said, “The map includes the courtyard and surrounding woods. The courtyard is the center, so the ‘E’ must be here. The main house probably has more clues but might be more dangerous.”

“What if we break a taboo going inside?”

“We shouldn’t die, right…”

As the discussion went on, Jiang Xun stood up on his own.

The front door wasn’t locked. He held a yellow talisman in his left hand and knocked on the wooden door three times with his right. “Excuse me.”

He glanced at the talisman and saw that there was no change, so he raised his hand and pushed the door open. He did the same for the two side rooms, opening their doors as well.

“No taboo triggered,” he said lightly after checking each room.

So cool.

Lu Yang sighed in relief. They were so lucky to meet a bigshot right from the start!

“Efficient.” From the corner of the courtyard, Fang Xiu wiped his hands and couldn’t help but admire.

Compared to shady Taoists who just coasted along, Fang Xiu preferred someone like Jiang Xun. The guy might not have the best intentions, but at least he was competent.

Bai Shuangying pinched his shoulder: “Stay away from that human.”

“Why?”

Bai Shuangying: “I don’t like his aura.”

After breaking dozens of chains, his senses had recovered a bit. Jiang Xun had traces of magic residue on him, a presence Bai Shuangying found as unbearable as humans find the smell of fermented stinky tofu. It wasn’t harmful but was revolting.

People with that kind of aura usually practice twisted forms of cultivation. They weren’t just hated by righteous sects, but even evil spirits despised them.

Still, the guy did have skills. Fang Xiu might not take Bai Shuangying’s opinion at face value. Just as Bai Shuangying thought that, Fang Xiu said, “Okay.”

Bai Shuangying: “?”

Was Fang Xiu too trusting?

As if reading his mind, Fang Xiu cheerfully went on peeling chestnuts. “If you’re warning me, I’m sure you have your reasons.”

Then he paused subtly.

“Just like when you don’t tell me certain things… You must have your reasons too.”

“…Mm.”

In a way, Fang Xiu’s team was pretty relaxed.

Cheng Songyun, Guan He, and Mei Lan were already used to the rhythm of the rituals. They found a sunny spot and napped. Blondie climbed onto the roof and chose to sleep there.

“I’m going to nap too. Watch the others for me.” After finishing his chestnuts, Fang Xiu stretched.

Before Bai Shuangying could respond, Fang Xiu had laid down on a warm stone slab and rested his head on Bai Shuangying’s lap. His fragile neck lay exposed, completely defenseless.

Bai Shuangying lowered his head. His long hair brushed Fang Xiu’s neck hollow.

…Sleep well.

With him here, this ritual would be safe, maybe even cozy. He’d given his human a warm place to sleep and even left him companions.

A stable, ideal environment shouldn’t bring many surprises.

Humans are fleeting. Their emotions are even harder to understand. Bai Shuangying didn’t get why Fang Xiu liked him, nor when that feeling might end.

So while Fang Xiu still liked him, he had to do his best to understand this human.

Bai Shuangying’s fingers slid from Fang Xiu’s soft ear to his neck, shoulder, and finally rested on his slim waist. Bai Shuangying remembered clearly: under the fabric were eight rough scars.

This was a rare chance, so he would slowly peel his human open and savor him.

……

After a spectacular sunset, the courtyard greeted its first night.

The air was fresh. The stars in the sky were unusually bright. If you ignored the “E”, the scene looked like a luxury retreat.

Fang Xiu yawned and woke up on Bai Shuangying’s lap. Almost no one else was in the courtyard. Only the main house’s window showed light; the side rooms were dark.

When Cheng Songyun saw Fang Xiu was awake, she rushed over. “I just checked the main house. The rooms have all been assigned.”

Out of respect for her earlier help explaining the rules, the newbies didn’t ostracize her. Once she woke up, she went to inspect the main house.

It was a classic old-style home. The living room had dark wood furniture and giant, vivid wall prints with slogans like “Longevity of Pines and Cranes” and “Peonies Bring Prosperity”.

There was a TV, a couch, and a cabinet full of bowls and utensils with not a speck of dust anywhere.

Each end of the house had a bedroom.

Both had multiple outlets, old but clean bedding, and lots of photos on the walls. This was clearly from wildly different years, but everyone in them was smiling.

If it weren’t for the stopped clocks and cracked soap, Cheng Songyun might’ve thought the owner had just stepped out for a bit.

Jiang Xun chose the small bedroom on the east as his base. The eight-person team opted to share the larger west room. The beds were limited, but there were plenty of quilts in the closet for sleeping on the floor.

“The east side room also has a guest room. We can stay there.” Cheng Songyun pointed to the opposite wing. “I checked. It’s okay. Only… it just has one double bed that’s not enough for all of us.”

Blondie grumbled, “Why’d they get to pick first?”

Fang Xiu didn’t mind. “Less karmic entanglement means more safety. The side room’s fine.”

Blondie: “…Fang Ge’s right. It’s safer in the wing. Those people are idiots anyway!”

The others were used to his 180-degree personality shifts. Guan He led the way and opened the wing room’s door…

Then jumped back in shock. Above the threshold hung a pale human face.

Its features were uneven, like a child had squished them randomly, and its mismatched eyes were full of malice.

As Guan He retreated, it grinned, revealing black and yellow sparse teeth and prepared to screech…

Whoosh!

Fang Xiu rushed up and caught the head like a basketball, yanking it down with a bounce like he was harvesting turnips.

The head struggled madly, but with a few cracking sounds, Fang Xiu pulled it off.

In the dark, the body rustled away. The head twitched, then went limp.

Everyone: “?”

Fang Xiu looked sad. “What a waste. There’s not much meat on the head.”

Everyone: “……”

Guan He suddenly felt so tired he couldn’t even muster the strength to be scared. He vaguely felt it was unnecessary to retreat just now.

Now that he thought about it, the thing was just…ugly? Being ugly wasn’t so bad…

Thus began the chaotic night.

Cheng Songyun lit the indoor stove for some light.

In the flickering fire, a pair of bluish-white feet approached. It paused when illuminated by the firelight and moved silently when it was in the shadows.

As it got closer to Cheng Songyun’s back…

Snap.

Fang Xiu activated his anomaly skill and flipped on the lights. The warm glow lit every corner causing the severed feet to freeze in confusion.

Fang Xiu threw a bed sheet over it and pounced like a cat.

The ghost feet flailed like rabbits, but their nails couldn’t scratch through the sheet.

Mei Lan poured “Holy Water” on them, and they went limp. Fang Xiu tied them up and hung them next to the ghost head, right beside garlic and chili peppers. It actually looked pretty harmonious.

Cheng Songyun opened her mouth to comment… then closed it.

Bai Shuangying’s mouth twitch. “That’s unnecessary.”

Fang Xiu insisted, “The head and feet don’t look that good. It’s better save them as rations.”

Meanwhile, Guan He turned on the old TV.

Through static, a shadow appeared. Guan He didn’t even flinch. He just stared at the black shadow for a moment and turned to Fang Xiu. “Fang Ge, there’s one here too!”

Five minutes later, under the ghost jerky hung a jar of pickled ghost. A translucent hand weakly patted the lid, looking deeply aggrieved.

Fang Xiu wiped his sweat, satisfied.

This thing had a nice texture. Bai Shuangying could snack on it if he gets hungry.

There was lots of yin energy around the E, so there were plenty of evil spirits at night. But if they were so rare during the day…Where had they all gone?

Fang Xiu tugged on the ghost hand and fell into thought.

Meanwhile, Guan He managed to tune the TV to a working channel. The very first program that popped up was the evening news. The anchorman’s firm and upright tone plunged the room into a brief silence.

Bathed in that aura of righteous authority, Cheng Songyun quietly fetched a few buckets of water from the courtyard to boil for washing and soaking feet.

Fang Xiu, having secured enough ghost provisions, got hungry himself and took out some canned food and roast chicken to warm by the stove.

Outside, the moon was bright. The stars twinkled, the insects chirped, and even wild birds could be heard cooing. Inside, the electric lights glowed, the television played the news, the stove boiled water, and the chicken skin crackled in the fire.

Compared to the previous Huanxi E, this place’s atmosphere was like heaven on earth.

Blondie muttered, “Why does this ritual feel like a fucking countryside B&B? One more chicken and we’ll all live happily ever after.”

No one refuted him.

To be fair, the accommodations here deserved four stars. The fifth star was only missing because of the unrelenting wave of evil spirits.

All in all? Not bad.

……

Back in the main house guest room…

“I can’t take it anymore! There’s a ghost pulling my hair!”

The curly-haired woman was wailing. Her eye makeup was completely ruined and there were black streaks running down her face. The pierced-lip guy looked pale, holding his girlfriend and murmuring reassurances.

Lu Yang huddled in a corner, absolutely exhausted but afraid to fall asleep.

These Underworld rituals were seriously messed up. After nightfall, everything in the house changed…

From the wardrobe came faint baby cries. From the walls came wet, scratching sounds. The blanket was neatly spread, yet a greenish-white ghost hand drooped limply from its edge.

They all rushed to Jiang Xun for yellow talismans, but they were like a drop in the bucket.

The baby’s cries vanished, only for a sharp, screeching children’s song to take its place. The wall-scratching sounds stopped, and became rhythmic creaking from the rafters, like something heavy was swinging.

One person couldn’t take it and tried to jump out the window. The moment they pulled back the curtain, they saw a glass pane full of twisted, deformed faces. They grinned together, mouths pitch-black.

There was no way to get any rest.

And yet, they couldn’t keep running to Jiang Xun.

Last time they asked for help, his face already showed hints of impatience.

He wasn’t obligated to protect them. If they annoyed him over this, they’d have bigger problems later.

What now… Why didn’t any of them have exorcism abilities?

Lu Yang was still racking his brain when the others started arguing…

“This is all your fault!” The artsy guy from earlier pointed at the pierced-lip man. “You broke a taboo earlier! That’s why all the evil spirits showed up!”

The glasses guy adjusted his specs. “Yeah, I think so too. Master Jiang’s side has barely any trouble.”

The pierced-lip man was already aching from his wounds. Hearing this, he exploded. “You talking shit about me? You’re as useless as a fart! You think I wanted to break a taboo?!”

“Then you two go sleep in the living room!” A gloomy woman’s voice spoke from the corner.

“I stay or go, what’s it to you?”

“We’re all getting no sleep, how are we supposed to clear the E?”

“Ahhhh it’s pulling my hair again!!”

Lu Yang was about to go insane. He clutched his head and squeezed his eyes shut but as soon as he did a chilly wind crawled down his neck. It was like something exhaling cold air against his skin.

At the same time, something sticky flowed out of his ears. It was too cold so it couldn’t be blood. It squirmed slowly and forcefully, releasing a nauseating stench.

“I’ve had enough!” Lu Yang finally snapped. “If none of you are going, I will!”

He grabbed his blanket and stormed off to the living room couch. Seeing this, the artsy guy perked up and dragged the glasses guy with him. Others followed in silence. Soon, the bedroom was left with only the couple.

The pierced-lip guy yanked open the curtains. The glass was still packed with distorted faces. They smiled even wider now, their pupils flattened by the glass while slime slowly dripped down.

“Fuck,” he cursed, shivering, and snapped the curtain shut. Then he slung on his backpack.

The curly-haired girl’s eyes was hazy, filled with tears. “Babe?”

“We’re not staying here. This damn ritual. Screw it.” He cursed, “That bunch of losers are useless. No point in sticking around.”

Curly-haired girl: “But it’s dangerous outside. Shouldn’t we go ask Master Jiang again?”

“Ask, ask, ask… What’s the point? Those talismans don’t even work.” The pierced-lip guy shouted, “He doesn’t give a damn! We might as well take our chances outside. Maybe the ghosts only haunt the house.”

The curly-haired girl trembled all over. Something instinctual told her she shouldn’t leave the main group and the courtyard. 

But something kept tugging at her hair. Invisible hands yanked her toward the ceiling beam… She wanted to run. She couldn’t take it anymore.

While she hesitated, the pierced-lip guy gave her a nasty look.

“What? You think I’m bad luck too?”

“No, babe…”

“Then pick—either hang with them or come with me!”

Soon, the two shouldered their bags and, under their teammates’ wary gazes, opened the door and left the main house.

Lu Yang asked weakly, “Where are you going?”

The pierced-lip guy ignored him and didn’t even look back.

Outside the courtyard, the woods seemed surprisingly normal.

The moon was bright, the leaves rustled in the breeze, and the insects chirped clearly. There were no signs of any evil spirits.

In the distance, you could even see the twinkling lights of a town.

The curly-haired girl was missing a shoe, hobbling as she walked.

Not long after, she cried out. She’d stepped on a sharp twig.

“Baby, I can’t walk anymore. Carry me.” Now that no ghosts had shown up, her mood improved a little. The pierced-lip guy said nothing and just bent down and let her climb on his back.

She hugged his neck.

“There are no more ghosts pulling my hair. Babe, you were right. The ghosts were just in the house. They totally blamed you for nothing!”

“All the weird stuff happened in that courtyard… It’s definitely the house. Babe, if we can’t make it out tonight, we can build a treehouse in the woods…”

“…Babe, why aren’t you saying anything?”

She had been babbling for several minutes when she suddenly sensed something was wrong.

Her boyfriend was too quiet. Eerily quiet.

A cold wind blew through her hair…then stung her skin. The wind picked up violently, making it hard for her to breathe.

But the pierced-lip guy carrying her kept walking forward, totally unaffected.

“Ba-Babe…”

The curly-haired girl lifted her head and found that her boyfriend’s head had somehow turned 180 degrees at some point. He was still carrying her, but his face was now also facing her.

His pupils had vanished, and the corners of his mouth were grinning exaggeratedly. Inside his mouth was nothing but pitch black.


The author has something to say:

Some people are experiencing a horror movie, others are enjoying a cozy farmstay (.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch64

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 64: Multiple Taboos

Disaster Relief Tower.

Dian’er hummed a cheerful tune as it happily prepared the ritual log.

This time’s “Fierce Wind E” would surely be easy to resolve. It had even drafted the report’s beginning and ending in advance.

Fang Xiu wasn’t a Disaster Resolver yet, so he couldn’t be assigned specific E-resolution tasks. Dian’er still had to follow procedure: draw a few candidate rituals from the Causality Furnace and then assign them accordingly.

…And even the heavens seemed to favor it. It had drawn the Fierce Wind E!

The scenery around Fierce Wind E was beautiful, and its taboos weren’t particularly dangerous, but it was oddly hard to deal with.

Due to certain special reasons, the Underworld had given up on using it to cultivate ghost immortals. But it wasn’t as ridiculous as the Huanxi E either, so the Underworld just let things run their course, letting sacrifices handle it on their own.

Almost all previous sacrifices had died due to personal reasons. For someone like Fang Xiu, this ritual was just right. There was no need for excessive physical exertion, just some brainwork.

To be safe, Dian’er had even selected a lone Disaster Resolver. If Fang Xiu messed up, the resolver could at least guarantee the ritual’s success.

Dian’er felt this arrangement was absolutely perfect.

Even that nightmare Huanxi E had been handled by Fang Xiu in just three days.

This little Fierce Wind E? Should be child’s play.

Once Fang Xiu became a Disaster Resolver, as his assigned handler, Dian’er’s own compensation would get a discount too. Fang Xiu might even thank it!

……

“The Underworld gave us another pain-in-the-ass job,” Fang Xiu concluded after listening to Cheng Songyun’s summary.

He had just returned to the courtyard, only to find his teammates looking subtly weird, while the group of eight newcomers flocked around the lone man, chatting noisily.

Compared to Fang Xiu’s own team of “the old, the young, women and children,” these young folks clearly preferred this “metaphysics master” type.

The lone man had introduced himself as Jiang Xun, a practitioner of Taoist arts. He had chiseled features, a reserved expression, and an aura of sophistication.

Jiang Xun had been the first to help the newcomers by providing food. He had performed a divination in front of everyone and then easily picked persimmons and greens from the yard.

Along with three to five wild rabbits he had caught, everyone’s meals were secured.

Fang Xiu knew that even if he brought out the offerings from Weishan Village now, they wouldn’t impress anyone much. Compared to familiar, mundane food, these young people probably preferred “campfire-style foraging”.

At least for now, Jiang Xun was quite the center of attention.

With food in hand, the young ones had relaxed. They sat around Jiang Xun, chattering away with questions. Jiang Xun hardly responded and just enjoyed his meal leisurely. His aura of power was unmistakable.

“Auntie Cheng already explained a bunch of stuff, and they didn’t take in any of it,” Guan He grumbled, having overheard parts of their talk. Fang Xiu just patted his shoulder and shook his head.

They’d already done their part by voluntarily explaining the rules.

Since Jiang Xun wanted to build his own rapport, Fang Xiu wasn’t interested in interfering.

As long as the newbies didn’t go berserk, there was no need to battle over popularity. They were here to resolve the E, not win elections.

After calming the indignant Guan He, Fang Xiu kindled a ghost flame in the other corner of the courtyard.

While tending the fire, he casually described the area beyond the courtyard. Under the blue sky and white clouds, with the scent of roasted chestnuts in the air, it was hard to feel upset.

“…So we’re near a normal town, but a wind wall is blocking the way. Fang Ge, you sure that’s not something the Underworld set up?” Guan He asked, now calm and trying to analyze again.

Fang Xiu: “The Underworld wouldn’t bother with something so convoluted.”

The wind wall had an unnecessarily complicated feel to it, unlike the crisp boundaries of past rituals. Not to mention Bai Shuangying had verified it as a taboo, and even the Mid-Autumn E’s borders were more straightforward than this.

“We can’t leave this place. Maybe that’s a death taboo. Then there’s that couple… No screaming? No stealing? No fighting…? Hard to say.”

Guan He thought hard, nearly letting the fire that was roasting the chestnut almost ignited his shoes.

Fang Xiu nudged the chestnuts with a stick. “Don’t worry. It’s only the first day.”

Then he got up to wash his hands at the hand-pump.

The pump was rusty but functional. Fang Xiu poured some canned syrup in as a primer and began working the handle.

With loud creaks and wheezes, water gushed out from the spout and splashed onto the ground.

Bai Shuangying leaned over curiously. It was his first time seeing such a device.

Fang Xiu smiled. “Old folks used this a lot. It’s mostly obsolete now. Not just you. Even those newbies probably don’t recognize it.”

“Then how do you?”

Fang Xiu paused. “There was one just like it in my grandma’s yard.”

“You mean your grandmother who died violently,” Bai Shuangying recalled.

He remembered… It was the woman who had died suddenly in front of Fang Xiu, harboring resentment toward him before her death. Yet Fang Xiu’s tone held only distant regret when he mentioned “grandma”.

“She called it the ‘Water Snake Trick’ and used it to tease me.” Fang Xiu said softly. “She’d summon little water snakes and said washing with them kept me healthy, helped heal wounds, washed away all worries…”

He hummed the rest in a local dialect, quiet and gentle like clear water over stone.

Then he chuckled self-deprecatingly and stretched his arms to wash.

As if responding to his lullaby, with a squelching noise, the water suddenly changed color…

From crystal clear to murky blood-brown, mixed with bits of flesh and long strands of hair.

In the golden, idyllic light, this streak of blood red was violently out of place. Chunks of flesh slithered through the water, squirming and glimmering darkly. Tangled hair emerged slowly from the spout, alive with eerie grace.

The blood and flesh crept along the ground and the hair curled forward in a stench of rot, inching toward Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu: “!!!”

He gripped the handle tighter and pumped even faster in surprise. This wasn’t water to wash one’s hand. It was ghost food full of promise!

The flesh: “?”

Fang Xiu panted as he furiously worked the pump. The evil spirit inside hesitated…its flesh quickly melted into the blood, the red growing faint. Even the dangling hair started to shrink back into the water pipe.

“Wait!” Fang Xiu lunged for the hair, grabbing only the tip.

It was sticky and wet, making it hard to grip.

He looped it around his finger and tugged like in a game of tug-of-war. The thing in the pipe resisted just as fiercely. In the end, Fang Xiu lost due to brute strength and nearly fell backward.

The pump water returned to clear, as if nothing had happened.

Fang Xiu exhaled heavily. He sulkily washed his hands and returned to the fire. The roasted chestnuts now felt hard to swallow.

He couldn’t help but poke Bai Shuangying. “There’ll be more evil spirits tonight. We’ll grab a few together.”

Bai Shuangying nodded. “How do you know it wasn’t a strong one?”

“After seeing Old Man Fu and Li Shuo, I’ve got a theory… Ordinary ghosts will pull jump scares. Powerful ones don’t bother.”

Fang Xiu gestured seriously. “Like little animals puffing up in fear, while massive beasts leave only giant claw marks. The latter doesn’t try to scare you, but they’re way more terrifying.”

Bai Shuangying watched him for a while.

When Fang Xiu said this, his nose wrinkled a bit and his lips curled into a smile. He looked at Bai Shuangying with unguarded affection.

Just as Bai Shuangying was beginning to understand that gaze, Fang Xiu looked away, toward Jiang Xun.

Suddenly, another scream rang out. It was from that same couple again.

The curly-haired girl cooed “babe” endlessly as she fed her boyfriend, like he’d hurt his brain instead of his leg.

A few eyes flicked over. The lip-pierced guy flushed red and shouted, “I’m not disabled!”. He then slapped the girl’s hand away.

Her face changed instantly. Just as she was about to lash out, the guy screamed again…

This time, he collapsed to the ground, gasping and wide-eyed, as if buried by unseen rocks. He flailed helplessly and groaned, eyes bulging like they might pop out.

Jiang Xun rushed forward. The pierced guy sat up dazedly, seemingly recovered.

“What the hell? Another taboo?”

The lip-pierced guy coughed and complained, “We didn’t even figure out the last one, and here comes another?”

Lu Yang licked his lips nervously and stepped up. “Maybe we’re not allowed to hit each other?”

It was noon and the autumn light was warm, yet all this weirdness felt even more unsettling.

Jiang Xun thought for a moment, then gave Lu Yang a light smack on the back of the head, but nothing happened.

“These two incidents were vague. There may be more conditions involved,” he said calmly, his voice deep and clear, instantly reassuring.

The curly-haired girl started sobbing. “I wanna go home. This place is scary…”

Before she could finish wailing, she shrieked again. “Fuck, my shoe…!”

Before everyone’s eyes, her right shoe vanished.

She had been wearing expensive, tightly laced Doc Martens. But in a blink, one shoe vanished like it evaporated into thin air. The girl panicked and huddled with her boyfriend, the two of them chanting “don’t be scared, babe” in unison.

The other newbies: “…”

Lu Yang glanced at Cheng Songyun and asked Jiang Xun, “Wasn’t it just three taboos?”

“You said: the wind outside is a barrier. That’s one taboo. The couple argued and lost a piece of flesh. That’s another possible taboo. He hit her and collapsed. Maybe that’s another. Now her shoe disappeared… That’s four?”

Jiang Xun replied coolly, “Three taboos are common, but it’s not a rule.”

Lu Yang responded with an “oh,” then looked toward Fang Xiu’s group with a bit of disappointment.

Fang Xiu, on the other hand, was quite enjoying the show, openly watching it enthusiastically.

Beside the ghost flame, Cheng Songyun mused aloud, “There’s so many taboos… Could it be like Weishan Village?”

Guan He shook his head. “It feels different. Back then, at least the ‘taboo punishments’ were consistent. These… are all over the place.”

Fang Xiu turned to Mei Lan: “What do you think?”

She had been quiet until now and didn’t respond right away. “I-I don’t know. I’m not good at analyzing this.”

Then she added, as if realizing something. “If you need help with anything else, just let me know.”

Fang Xiu just smiled at her and didn’t press further.

“Oh right, Bai Shuangying…”

Fang Xiu turned to his ghost…only to realize something was wrong. “Bai Shuangying?”

Bai Shuangying was gone.

……

Inside the abandoned main house.

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Bai Shuangying’s white robes.

He stood with his back to the light, his pale eyes locked onto a shadowy corner.

“I know you’re the master of this place. Don’t worry, I’ll pretend not to know.”

[……]

“Just remember, don’t interfere with my human.” Bai Shuangying spoke calmly. “If you act rashly, he’ll definitely see through everything.”

Static crackled from the darkness.

“You ask why?”

“Because I want to understand him. But he always gets distracted looking at others.”

So he needed more time… More, and more, and more attention.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Help Ch63

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 63: Courtyard in the Forest

The beginning of the fourth ritual was remarkably quiet.

Fang Xiu wasn’t the type to hold big or small meetings casually. He simply issued a formulaic statement, “Everyone follow orders and don’t mess around”, and wrapped up the pre-ritual briefing.

At this point, anyone with half a brain already understood the basic ritual routine.

To be honest, Fang Xiu didn’t feel responsible for “protecting everyone,” so his expectations weren’t high. As long as no one went against him, everything was negotiable.

With Jia Xu’s self-destruction as a cautionary tale, no one objected.

The paper figure Dian’er led the group to the second floor. At the moment, golden-red leaves blanketed the floor, and the entrance to the “Hall of Disaster Resolution” had turned into a familiar countryside courtyard gate.

Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying, as usual, walked at the rear of the group. Fang Xiu instinctively reached out his hand and Bai Shuangying habitually extended his wrist.

Fang Xiu hadn’t expected such cooperation. He didn’t stop in time, and his fingernails lightly scratched Bai Shuangying’s hand making his heart skip a beat.

Bai Shuangying showed no reaction. Fang Xiu took the opportunity to adjust his grip and tried to act like the handholding was perfectly natural.

Then he became unsure about how tightly to hold Bai Shuangying’s hand.

Too loose and it might slip, too tight and he might hurt the ghost. After hesitating for too long, he started worrying whether his palm would get sweaty. That would certainly be embarrassing.

Fang Xiu began questioning the romance stories he had seen. In those, the protagonists all seemed born with innate mastery of handholding, hugging, flirting; everything was timed perfectly.

In practice, he was nervously readjusting his grip every other second. Those screenwriters were all liars. Even he, a liar himself, had been duped.

…Even killing someone didn’t make his heart beat this erratically!

There was an upside, though: Fang Xiu suddenly noticed his observational skills had improved dramatically. The whole world looked like it had been given a dreamy filter, looking vibrant, crisp, and clear.

For instance, he noticed the toe of his left shoe was scuffed, and his pants were overly wrinkled. He noticed how Bai Shuangying’s hair ends were so clean they looked synthetic, and his white clothes shimmered with a faint, soft glow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fang Xiu saw Bai Shuangying watching him intently. He turned his head to meet his ghost’s gaze directly.

Though Bai Shuangying’s sclera looked human, they lacked visible capillaries, like flawless porcelain.

Noticing the human looking at him again, Bai Shuangying blinked.

His gaze had been fixed on Fang Xiu’s lips.

Yesterday, Fang Xiu had sucked his injured fingertip, and Bai Shuangying still remembered that burning warmth and comfort.

Unfortunately, once saliva left Fang Xiu’s mouth, the vital energy quickly dispersed into yin energy. If he wanted to taste Fang Xiu’s soul essence, kissing or having sex were the most efficient methods.

But Fang Xiu didn’t agree. He’d said, “Only if you like me.”

Bai Shuangying had seen countless expressions of joy, anger, sorrow, love, and hatred, both among humans and animals. He had seen a herd of pigs run but had never tasted pork himself*.

*Clarity: It’s a colloquial way of saying you haven’t experienced it personally, but have heard about it, seen it, so you have a slight understanding of it.

…Had he ever truly liked anything?

He had existed for so long, he’d grown used to being alone, never needing to “cling” to anything external.

Yes, he had been curious about many things, but everything lost its novelty eventually. He had never liked anything, only disliked.

“Understanding Fang Xiu” was proving to be difficult, Bai Shuangying thought, but at least it wasn’t unpleasant.

Before stepping through the gateway, they both turned their heads in unison toward the direction of the “Shrine of All E’s.”

Sure enough, under the Underworld’s illusion, they couldn’t see the shrine at all.

Fang Xiu muttered a few words regretfully. If it were truly a top-secret place, the paper figure wouldn’t have shown it to them at all. Compared to some “millennia-old dark secret of the Underworld”, the shrine felt more like a “restricted factory zone” of the human world.

“If we get the chance, I’ll take you inside to see,” Fang Xiu said, squeezing Bai Shuangying’s wrist.

“Mm.”

……

As they stepped across the threshold, a crisp autumn breeze greeted them.

The morning sun illuminated a forest of golden-red trees. Birds chirped clearly, accompanied by the low drone of autumn cicadas. The air was fresh and dry. Fang Xiu instinctively took a deep breath, his lungs feeling freshly rinsed by the wind.

Before them lay a modestly sized country courtyard.

Though it was an abandoned courtyard in the forest, Fang Xiu didn’t sense anything ominous. The walls were freshly whitewashed, and the layout was clean and dignified. It was clearly once cared for meticulously.

The surrounding shrubs were a bit overgrown but artfully arranged.

The season was right. Red berries dotted the bushes, and unknown wildflowers bloomed along the fence. At a glance, Fang Xiu spotted a disused vegetable garden, a chicken coop, and a dusty air conditioner unit.

Compared to this, Weishan Village had felt steeped in cursed yin energy.

Without Jia Xu around to yap and point, the others scanned the area and then turned to look at Fang Xiu. He sighed, paused at the half-open courtyard gate, and knocked gently.

“Coming!” a voice called from inside, surprisingly warm and welcoming.

Then the wooden door creaked open, revealing a slightly nervous round face. It was a very young man in a brightly printed hoodie. His soft, pampered skin and trendy outfit didn’t match the rustic courtyard at all.

Sure enough, the young man scanned the five of them and cautiously asked, “You guys are sacrifices too?”

Fang Xiu: “…Yeah.”

Amazing. Without even being asked, this guy had blurted out, “I’m a newbie,” “I’m a sacrifice,” “I’m not cunning”…all at once.

After scrutinizing them for a moment, the youth gave an “oh” and awkwardly opened the gate wider.

Inside were already two other groups, visibly distinct in style.

One group was all young people. Exactly eight of them, looking so fresh-faced it was almost touching. Like the round-faced youth, they radiated the naïveté unique to students.

The other group consisted of only one man. He was well-groomed, with a strange aura, appearing in his forties or fifties.

His attire was plain, revealing no obvious magic weapons. He stood silently in the shadows, observing Fang Xiu. He was definitely a veteran.

A gust of wind stirred the fallen leaves. Fang Xiu’s ankle felt a chill, and he shuffled his pant leg down.

“What a big courtyard,” Guan He couldn’t help but exclaim.

Guan He followed Fang Xiu closely, but his attention was drawn to the scenery rather than the people…

The inside of the courtyard was even more refined than the outside.

It held a main house and two wings. Handwritten couplets graced the doors, bold and powerful, though the red paper had faded.

Several beautiful persimmon trees stood in the courtyard, branches heavy with fruit. An old-fashioned hand pump stood in the center and there were even scallions and chili peppers grew in the corners. Everything evoked a sense of comfort.

With the surrounding forest scenery, the place looked entirely untouched by any E.

The round-faced youth hesitated briefly, then introduced himself: “This is our first… first time participating in a ritual. If we cause any trouble, please forgive us…”

The other seven nodded anxiously.

It all felt like a lifetime ago.

When they had met Lao Mian and Mai Zi in Weishan Village, the couple had also been in their fourth ritual, while they were pure rookies. Only half a month had passed, and the roles were reversed.

Cheng Songyun and Guan He looked thoughtful. Cheng Songyun smiled and nodded at the young group, who visibly relaxed.

During their conversation, the lone man in the corner quietly slipped out of the courtyard.

Fang Xiu said, “Cheng Jie, Guan He, Mei Lan… You three set up camp here. Don’t touch anything in the rooms yet. I’ll scout around with Du Zhichao.”

Cheng Songyun and Guan He nodded steadily. Mei Lan gave her usual quiet response without any particular reaction.

Cheng Songyun kept glancing toward the new kids, so Fang Xiu added quietly, “You can tell them the basics, but keep your distance.”

He’d chosen these three because they had reliable self-defense skills. If there were any threats among the new kids, they could handle it.

As for basic information… newbies didn’t even know what taboos were. Better to warn them ahead of time than risk disaster.

With everything settled, Fang Xiu left the courtyard with Bai Shuangying and Blondie.

Blondie wore his usual ingratiating smile, eyes darting around. “Fang Ge, this place is incredible. There’s nothing’s lacking… Hey look, these wild greens are edible, and I even spotted rabbit droppings. There are wild hares here!”

Fang Xiu stepped on the soft leaves and gave two absent-minded replies.

The area was indeed well-stocked. They hadn’t gone far before seeing chestnut and apple trees laden with fruit. Mushrooms and greens were abundant, making this a far better ritual than the ones.

But he hadn’t brought Blondie along to test survival skills.

“You used to hang around Jia Xu a lot. Did he ever mention gambling?” Fang Xiu asked casually.

Blondie answered immediately, “Course he did! That guy never shut up about how good he was. Yeah right. He couldn’t play for shit!”

Fang Xiu filtered the nonsense. “He invited a lot of people to gamble at his place. You knew about that, right?”

“Yeah, but they weren’t really friends…”

According to Jia Xu’s bragging, he brought “tasteful and well-off” “high-class people” to his place. He hosted sessions himself, offering fine tobacco and liquor.

Besides the app, they also livestreamed betting sessions in a private room, betting on stones, horses, anything. It was a full-on upscale gambling den.

Jia Xu made a lot of money from this “service”, but it all became his gambling fund.

“He acted like such a big shot, but he was just a setup guy for a scam ring. Who knows what he was so proud of,” Blondie sneered.

But Fang Xiu didn’t think it added up.

Jia Xu came from an average background, young and recently rich. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been hard for him to mingle with middle-aged elites or wealthy second gens, let alone host such events.

Plus, he had a day job and lived with his girlfriend at night. There was no time to run a gambling ring.

…More likely, someone else had set it up and just used Jia Xu’s name.

Fang Xiu frowned. “He never mentioned anything else?”

Blondie shook his head, then remembered something. “He complained once that the person managing the house was rude to him. That’s it.”

“Someone managing his house?”

“Like a housekeeper or something. He didn’t say much.”

Fang Xiu sighed. He’d known it… Anything that didn’t sound cool, Jia Xu wouldn’t elaborate on.

As he mulled it over, he rubbed his arms. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the forest wind seemed stronger now.

Blondie, fit as ever, darted around happily. Suddenly he climbed a jujube tree. “Shit… There are people outside the forest! Someone’s working in the fields!”

He leapt down and headed that way. Fang Xiu frowned and followed cautiously.

But after just a few steps, the strange wind intensified.

It didn’t stir a single leaf yet made it hard for Fang Xiu to stand. If Bai Shuangying hadn’t grabbed him, he might’ve toppled over.

Blondie pressed forward another few steps. The wind distorted his face and peeled at his skin. Finally, he retreated, crawling back with wind-chapped skin.

Fang Xiu looked behind them. The wind wall’s placement was uncanny. Just a few more steps, and the farmhouse courtyard would’ve vanished from sight.

“This is a taboo… Not a ghost or Underworld doing,” Bai Shuangying said concisely.

He’d been strangely quiet the whole time. Fang Xiu rubbed a tree trunk and asked softly, “Did you sense anything unusual?”

Bai Shuangying: “The yin energy is thick here, but there are very few ghosts. Too clean.”

“…?” That sounded eerily like the Huanxi E. Fang Xiu tensed immediately.

Bai Shuangying spread his fingers, feeling the wind normalize. “Yin energy is suppressed during daylight. It’s best to investigate again at midnight.”

As he’d said, daytime was boringly peaceful. They walked around the “wind wall boundary” with the courtyard as center.

Aside from finding part of a taboo, Fang Xiu picked up chestnuts and jujubes, and enjoyed the autumn scenery.

There were no creepy tombstones, hidden chambers, or twisted sacrificial altars.

The ritual zone was so normal it felt like a Class 4A scenic area, and the resources were outrageously rich. If not for the taboo, Fang Xiu would’ve assumed this was a “reward level”.

He glanced at Bai Shuangying.

Bathed in golden autumn light, Bai Shuangying’s ghost aura was subdued. Dressed in flowing white, standing quietly among the trees, he seemed like one with nature.

But Bai Shuangying caught him staring. After a pause, he solemnly handed Fang Xiu some sweet jujubes, instantly breaking his ethereal vibe.

Under that intense gaze, Fang Xiu obediently ate the jujubes.

They were crisp and sweet. Bai Shuangying really had a knack for picking fruit. Damn, if he hadn’t brought Blondie, this scouting trip would’ve been perfect.

They had been out nearly all morning. It was time to return.

……

Back in the courtyard.

After Cheng Songyun’s “Taboo 101”, the eight newbie players looked confused, then shifted into ultra-cautious mode, classic rookie behavior. Now aware of the death taboo, they didn’t even dare sneeze, eyes tearing up from the effort.

A few wanted to pick some persimmons for supplies but backed off. Their faces were filled with unease.

Cheng Songyun suddenly understood how Mai Zi must’ve felt watching over them before. These newbies really did look harmless.

“I’m Lu Yang,” the round-faced youth introduced himself. “Thank you so much for explaining. Otherwise, we’d be totally lost.”

Though he didn’t seem very reliable, compared to his panicking companions, he was relatively “emotionally stable”.

At least he had the presence of mind not to mention the Underworld’s support outright.

Just as Lu Yang was expressing thanks, a loud shout startled Guan He, who nearly pulled out his black gauze veil.

A couple among the new eight had started fighting.

“Are you fucking psycho? What the hell’s wrong with you?!” shouted a boy with pierced lips.

“I brought that food. If you’re gonna eat it, ask first!” the girl snapped. She wore a cute backpack and had huge wavy curls. Her voice clashed wildly with her appearance.

Lu Yang: “…Ignore them. They fight every few days and make up fast.”

The other five acted unsurprised, turning their heads or muttering complaints under their breath.

The couple’s argument devolved into local dialect, their pitch rising and vocabulary growing incomprehensible.

Cheng Songyun, as an outsider, couldn’t intervene and just waited quietly.

But after a few minutes, the boy suddenly screamed. The newbies scattered in panic.

The girl froze, face turning pale. “What’s wrong, babe?”

The boy didn’t answer and just stared in horror at his right leg. His pants were quickly soaking with blood, and the smell filled the air.

Before Cheng Songyun could react, the lone man from before appeared out of nowhere. “Take them off.”

The boy winced, sweating. “What the f—”

The man cut him off calmly. “If you don’t want to die, take them off.”

Faced with spreading blood, the boy caved. He pulled down his jeans, and everyone gasped.

A chunk of flesh the size of a walnut was missing from his thigh.

The wound’s edge was rough, as if the flesh had vanished into thin air and blood was flowing freely.

The lone man crouched down, inspected the wound, then pulled a yellow talisman from his pocket. He dipped it in the blood and drew an unrecognizable symbol.

Then he snapped his fingers, and the paper burned with a pure white flame.

“It’s not the death taboo. Just bandage it up. You’ll be fine. I’m off.” He stood and left.

The girl threw herself on the boy, sobbing like he’d just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. The rest stared at the man in awe.

Cheng Songyun’s long theoretical lecture couldn’t compete with this dramatic scene.

Cheng Songyun and Guan He watched too.

After checking the wound, the man turned back and lean against the wall to smoke with a relaxed expression.

When he crouched down earlier, a red string had peeked from his collar. It seemed something was hanging from it.


The author has something to say:

After three stressful instances, time for a light interlude!


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Beyond the Galaxy 150

Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 150

Neo Athens.

On the Hill of Wisdom, in front of the “Republic” Library, Archon Nolin Titian sat on a floating mat, resting with his eyes closed. In the distant spaceport, countless ships were taking off one after another, like dandelion seeds carried by the wind, soaring into the sky.

The artificial intelligence David appeared slightly behind and to the side of Nolin Titian, bowing respectfully. “Archon, three energy supply points and 1,296 field generation nodes have been set up. We’re ready to activate the Galactic Field at your command.”

The Archon neither spoke nor opened his eyes—he merely nodded.

With that slight movement, a command that would determine the fate of the universe was issued. It was transmitted via the superluminal network to the three carriers of Neo Athens: the Socrates, the Plato, and the Aristotle. From there, the command was relayed to the remaining 1,296 ships.

“Order received. Activating the field generator.”

“Activating space-time monitoring equipment.”

“Connection established. The data network is functioning well.”

In less than a second, a gigantic field spanning the entire galaxy was formed, like a vast net. This field covered 98% of the Milky Way, creating a towering wall that sealed off this time and space.

“Report! Spatial warp point detected in target region YR9787!”

Nolin Titian chuckled softly. “Just in the nick of time.”

“Spatial warp point detected in target region YR3413!”

“Spatial warp point detected in target region YR2916!”

“Spatial warp point detected in target region YR1706!”

A continuous stream of reports flowed into Nolin Titian’s ears. “It’s approaching the center of the galaxy,” David analyzed. “Its speed is incredible. Even our most advanced shuttles can’t match a tenth of it.”

“No matter how fast it flies, it’s still a bird in a cage.” Nolin Titian suddenly opened his eyes, his silver irises blazing like the sun. “Track the target, shrink the Galactic Field, and restrict its movement range!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Is my ship ready?”

“The Prometheus is prepared for departure at any moment.”

The Archon jumped off the floating mat, landing gracefully with agility that belied his years as a scholar surrounded by books and computers. “I’ve waited a long time for this day!” He began walking down the Hill of Wisdom toward the spaceport. “Kester Salaregia, do you see? We’ve achieved something even greater than your accomplishments!”

In the third greenhouse of Neo Athens, former Archon Giorgione sat in his favorite chair, holding a cup of tea, while watching a holographic broadcast. The broadcast showed the Prometheus launching. This ship, since leaving the manufacturing plant, had never ventured beyond the atmosphere of Neo Athens. It was named after the hero from ancient Greek mythology who stole fire from the gods to aid humanity, only to be punished by the gods—a fitting name, as its fate would be the same: to save humanity, then sacrifice itself. The Prometheus was a singularity generator, capable of creating an artificial black hole leading to the end of time, space, the universe, and even concepts themselves. In that place, nothing existed—not even nothingness. It was the pinnacle of centuries of research by Neo Athens, the ultimate weapon of the Earth’s survivors to combat the killing machine the Yasha.

Now, it was embarking on its journey, watched by the entire planet.

Giorgione suddenly felt his eyes grow moist.

“Nolin is on that ship, isn’t he, Lina?” the old man asked the secretary standing behind him.

“Yes,” Lina replied.

His bony hand trembled slightly, almost spilling the tea. “Nolin is still so young… He shouldn’t have to bear such a responsibility. It should have been me on the Prometheus. We were the generation that created the Yasha. It’s our duty to destroy it. Young people shouldn’t have to do this for us.”

“Please don’t say that, sir,” Lina said. “Archon Titian once said, ‘Challenging the achievements of predecessors is the exclusive right of the next generation, not even Teacher Giorgione can take away my ambition.’”

“Nolin always wanted to challenge Kester.” The old man smiled bitterly. “He wanted to prove that Neo Athens wouldn’t lose to Old Earth. And he succeeded. The age of gods is over. Now is the age of humans.”

He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the glass ceiling of the greenhouse. Beyond it, the holographic clock of Neo Athens Academy rotated solemnly.

“Kester, even your myth is about to be broken. The children have truly outdone themselves!”

……

Alveira sat in the Chancellor’s office, which was now her workplace. Former Chancellor Greenwald had submitted his resignation, relinquishing his duties as the king’s aide and retiring. The other ministers unanimously recommended that Alveira take over his duties. It was only fitting. This was more or less in line with Alveira’s original plan, even better in some respects. She had expected Greenwald to resist to the bitter end, requiring some bloodshed to change his mind.

The capital was in its rainy season once again. The windows were being pelted by heavy rain, as if the entire planet were submerged. The gloomy weather brought down everyone’s spirits. Sitting in the chair that had once belonged to the Chancellor, Alveira felt no joy. Instead, she was weighed down by a sense of impending disaster.

“Your Highness!” As if responding to her foreboding, the newly appointed secretary hurried to her side. “Archon Nolin Titian of Neo Athens has sent word that the Yasha has been released. They managed to activate the Galactic Field in time to contain the Yasha’s movement!”

This was both good news and bad news. The activation of the Galactic Field meant that the Yasha could only operate within this time and space, unable to wreak havoc on other universes. But it also meant that Alois and Joshua’s mission on Old Earth had failed—they hadn’t been able to stop the enemy from destroying the field generator, nor had they managed to let the backup of the artificial intelligence Leonard take control of the Yasha. What had happened to them? Were they alive or dead? Alveira didn’t want to dwell on the worst possibilities, choosing instead to believe that they had merely been delayed, that they had already escaped and were on their way back to the colonies.

“And there’s something else…” The secretary wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “The Lady of the Night suddenly left the spaceport!”

“What!” This news shocked Alveira even more than the Yasha’s release. “I didn’t give such an order! What happened? What about the crew?”

“The crew disembarked. There’s no one on board. The ship took off under the AI’s control!”

Alveira slammed her hand on the desk. “Leonard… Has he gone mad? What does he think he’s doing? Contact him, order him to return immediately!”

“The spaceport tried, but they couldn’t reach him. The Lady of the Night has shut down all communication systems and activated counter-surveillance camouflage. No one can find it now except itself!”

Alveira collapsed back into her chair in despair. “Leo… He… He’s going after the Yasha…” The princess murmured to herself. “He wants to face it alone… to wrest the Yasha from the hands of the fifth artificial intelligence…”

She turned to look out the window, where the clouds above the spaceport were disturbed, their patterns disrupted by the ascent of a large spacecraft. Leo had taken the Lady of the Night and left. Perhaps he would save humanity, or perhaps he would be lost in the endless void. Since she couldn’t stop him, all Alveira could do was pray to the Lord for his success. There was nothing else she could do.

In the face of the ultimate killing machine and the most powerful artificial intelligence, there was nothing anyone could do.


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Beyond the Galaxy Interlude 7 (Part Two)

Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Interlude 7 (Part Two)

“Madonna, you’ve finally come…”

“I’m here, Noya.”

“I’m in so much pain, Madonna… I’m suffering… It’s worse than death…”

The Marquess said, “Doctor, do something! How can you let her suffer like this?”

“That is precisely why I’ve asked you to come,” Dr. Shannon replied. “Relieving Her Majesty’s pain is actually quite simple. Given her current condition, euthanasia would…”

“Silence!” Madonna shouted, her voice sharp. “How dare you speak such nonsense! Is this the advice a doctor and loyal subject should give? You’re suggesting murder against Her Majesty!”

“I’m merely speaking the truth, Madam. You’ve seen for yourself—rather than letting Her Majesty live in agony, it would be kinder to let her pass away peacefully.” He paused. “But there is another option.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been working at the Empire Academy of Sciences, specializing in neurology and artificial body research. As you may know, the Academy has been focusing on these areas for years. After Her Majesty’s accident, the Academy immediately assembled a team of experts to treat her injuries. However, Her Majesty’s injuries are so severe that traditional methods are inadequate. She can only survive with the help of machines. Therefore, the expert team proposed a solution: to create an artificial body for Her Majesty and transfer her brain into it…”

“What!” Madonna exclaimed in shock. “This… This method…”

“This is one of the Academy’s research achievements. It has been tested repeatedly and is reliable.”

“That’s not what I meant! If you do this, it would mean… only her brain would survive?”

“Exactly, Madam.”

“Only the brain survives—is that even considered being alive?” The Marquess’s voice was filled with anger. “Would she still be human?”

“Human thoughts and emotions are governed by the brain, Madam. For those of us in research, the brain is everything. When ordinary people lose limbs, they can be fitted with prosthetics. When organs fail, they can be replaced with artificial ones. This is progress in science, and no one disputes it. Her Majesty’s situation is similar, except that more of her body would be replaced.”

“A bit more? It’s far too much! I’ve heard about the work at your Academy, your secret research… It’s not just about saving lives, is it? You want to create human weapons, don’t you?”

“Although the research’s purpose is for war, its outcomes can indeed save lives. Nuclear energy can benefit humanity, but it can also be used to make atomic bombs that destroy humanity. Every technology has two sides, Madam.”

“But… this is practically heretical!”

“Right now, only what you call ‘heresy’ can save Her Majesty. It’s either death or a different form of life… Or would you prefer to see Her Majesty continue to suffer as she is now?”

“Enough!”

But the doctor didn’t stop and continued, “I understand this is a difficult decision, Madam. Her Majesty cannot make it herself and has sought the help of the one person she trusts the most—you. With just one word, you can decide Her Majesty’s fate. That’s why she summoned you all the way to the capital.”

“I… How can I make such a decision for Noya? This should be decided together… with Sorey, Winnet, and the other ministers… How can I…”

The weak voice of the Queen spoke again. “I’m sorry… Madonna… I’m a coward… I’m too scared… I don’t have the courage to decide my own life or death… I don’t have… the courage to live… or to die… I’m sorry, Madonna… But I trust only you… We grew up together… closer than sisters… Please, Madonna… make the decision for me… end this suffering…”

“I… I can’t…”

“You’ve always been so brave… Madonna… I trust your decision… Whether it’s death… or a different way to live… I won’t blame you…”

The room fell silent for a while, and Darius heard a woman softly sobbing, unsure if it was his mother or Her Majesty.

“Doctor, what does the expert team at the Academy recommend?”

“We naturally recommend that Her Majesty continue to live—not just out of pride in our research, but also because of the current situation in the Empire… Ah, it’s not my place to speak of this, but it’s for your consideration, Madam.”

“I understand, I understand. Noya’s children are still so young. If she dies, a regent will have to be chosen to lead the government until Annot comes of age. Sorey is gentle, but he’s not suited to be a regent… The remaining heirs might fight fiercely for the position, possibly even usurping the throne…”

“Your concerns are shared by Her Majesty, Madam.”

“But… even so, I cannot… A person with only a brain left, can they still be considered human?”

“As long as the brain survives, thoughts can continue. As long as there is thought, humanity exists. ‘I think, therefore I am,’ isn’t that what a scientist and philosopher from Old Earth once said?”

“But that would be mere existence…” Darius heard his mother sigh deeply. “Noya, do you really want to place this decision in my hands?”

“Please… Madonna…”

“Then, Doctor, proceed with the method you mentioned.”

“As you wish, Madam,” Dr. Shannon replied.

The two then began discussing in low voices, using complex terms that a child couldn’t understand. Darius returned to the bench, pretending to be the well-behaved child who hadn’t been eavesdropping. The door to the room opened, and Madonna and the doctor emerged one after the other.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Darius,” his mother said with a slightly strained smile.

“Can I visit Her Majesty, Mom?” Darius asked with feigned innocence.

“No, dear. Her Majesty needs to rest. We can visit her after she recovers and bring her flowers and fruit.”

“When will Her Majesty recover?”

“Soon, dear,” Madonna replied with a sad smile. “She’ll recover very soon.”

Dr. Shannon quietly closed the door. Although his movements were swift, Darius caught a glimpse of the scene inside the room in that brief moment—the room was filled with complex machinery, and on the pristine white bed lay a person, but the bed was sunken where the body should have been. Her body below the chest was gone, replaced by countless tubes and cables extending from the machinery, connecting to the remaining part of her body, like a tangled web trapping a butterfly with missing wings.

Darius quickly averted his gaze. The sight was so strange and horrifying that he never wanted to recall it again. That’s Her Majesty the Queen, Darius thought to himself.

“Admiral! The fleet is about to land at the Empire Starport!”

The voice of his adjutant abruptly pulled Darius out of his reverie. He opened his eyes and saw that the Unfallen Star was now within reach. This was the place where he had lived for over a decade, his second home. Yet, for the first time in his life, he found the prospect of stepping onto this planet so painful and difficult. If he could, he would have turned back to York γ, never to enter the Unfallen Star’s atmosphere again—perhaps then, none of this would have happened.

“Admiral? Sir? Commander?” The adjutant, noticing Darius’s lack of response, repeated his words, “Please give the order!”

“…Proceed with the landing,” Darius said. “Inform the entire ship: we’ve returned.”

The cheers of the crew drowned out the broadcast announcement, but Darius felt no joy. Her Majesty was right, he thought. Making a decision truly requires immense courage.


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