Chapter 116: Mourning

“Lan Yi, male (the rest omitted)…”

“Wang Aojia, male (the rest omitted)…”

“Juno, female (the rest omitted)…”

“Lin Cheng, male (the rest omitted)…”

“Li Yang, male (the rest omitted)…”

The files gathered before Dr. Chen within twenty-four hours were the product of a special investigation approved by the Supreme Federal Council—a process that had trampled human rights, privacy, due process, and freedom with brutal disregard. Aside from names and genders, they contained almost nothing of value.

Although everything in the Federation’s household-registration network left a trace, field visits and even cursory verification revealed that much of the information could not actually be substantiated.

Lan Yi’s social connections were a case in point.

After the Azure Dragon Federation’s intelligence service contacted the local police in the Magic City and conducted inquiries on the ground, it became clear that nearly all of Lan Yi’s supposed relationships were fabricated.

What was especially interesting, however, was that although those questioned were uncertain whether they ought to know the Lan Yi described in the records, none denied the possibility that they did. They merely said they could not remember clearly, or that it had been too long since they had met him to be certain. After further attempts to awaken their memories, it was confirmed that traces of memory interference existed within them.

This was the work of Warbound Space.

For psionic cultivators, unless they explicitly refused, Warbound Space would generally arrange an identity for their convenience. As long as a cultivator did not behave too conspicuously, such an identity could withstand ordinary investigation.

There would be witnesses and physical evidence alike.

But it could never survive a truly thorough examination—especially in artificial divine realms whose level of civilization or combat power was particularly high. It was not that Warbound Space lacked the ability to arrange more meticulous identities. It simply considered such effort an unnecessary waste of resources. After all, if a psionic cultivator could confront an entire world by force, there was no need to arrange an identity at all.

If they could not, then they had to learn to clear the trial by gentler, more intelligent means.

Warbound Space adjusted its treatment according to the individual.

The identities it had arranged for Lan Yi and the others this time were somewhat crude.

It had clearly recognized Lan Yi’s style of trial.

“They are different from that group.”

A broad-faced man in a black Federal military uniform interrupted Dr. Chen’s thoughts.

The man’s face was as hard as cast iron.

In a world utterly devoid of supernatural power, he had nevertheless broken through the limits of the human body through sheer physical conditioning. Though his path was not that of innate vital energy, his body had been comprehensively enhanced beyond the human limit, making him terrifying in its own right. Combined with the Azure Dragon Federation’s powered exoskeleton armor, he was already capable of dealing with the vast majority of spectral entities.

Yes—spectral entities.

The members of the Azure Dragon Federation’s most highly classified departments never fought ordinary human beings. The Ghost Division, which possessed unrestricted authority to mobilize any department or military unit in support of its operations, had always been tasked with hunting supernatural creatures—especially the great specters that, in the future, might annihilate humanity.

“They are not from this world,” Dr. Chen said suddenly after being interrupted.

“Do other worlds truly exist?” The broad-faced man remained skeptical. “Could they be survivors from the future, or descendants of the lunar ecological base?”

“If they came from either of those places, their information should be completely blank, not vague and fragmentary in a way that cannot withstand investigation.”

As he spoke, Dr. Chen picked up a small device.

“Isn’t the evidence right here?”

An atomic clock from the primary world.

The clock had already been activated and calibrated, and was now measuring time through the ultra-stable radiation produced by atomic excitation and transition. The Azure Dragon Federation could naturally manufacture such a clock as well, but the internal structure and technical standards of this one differed drastically from the technological mainstream of their world.

“We have possessed too many hopes, only to discover in the end that despair was all that remained. When every solution had failed, the dimensional ocean you proposed finally revealed a glimmer of light.”

The broad-faced man sighed at the fickleness of fate.

He was one of the products of the Azure Dragon Federation’s Self-Salvation Project.

He had been specially developed as a new human: devoid of the seven emotions and six desires, endowed with a body surpassing ordinary human limits, and capable of controlling his own endocrine system. Most importantly, the absence of the seven emotions and six desires should have eliminated, at its root, the foundation upon which supernatural creatures were born.

But the project had failed.

Though the broad-faced man had been artificially engineered to be unable to express emotion, and though his feelings were extraordinarily faint, he did possess emotions after all. The project had merely greatly increased his resistance to supernatural creatures before the collapse of his will.

Dr. Chen showed no joy at the sight of hope.

He was like a precision instrument that remained eternally calm, controlling his emotions even more completely than the broad-faced man.

“How are preparations for the aircraft?” he asked. “I want to meet these warriors from an unknown dimension.”

“They are dangerous, and you are far too important. You should avoid taking unnecessary risks. Let me make first contact,” the broad-faced man advised.

“To possess power without wantonly trampling others is itself a sign of goodwill. If we want to break through this deadlock, we must seize every possibility. If my guess is correct, we may not have much time—or many opportunities—left. Lan Yi must think the same way. Otherwise, he would not have sent us an atomic clock.”

Professional testing equipment had detected other things within the clock as well, including traces of plutonium-239 radiation.

Lan Yi was indeed an interesting and direct man.

Dr. Chen clearly held immense prestige among the decision-makers. Though he appeared frail and delicate, once he issued his orders in the tone of someone accustomed to making decisions, the broad-faced man obeyed without question. He showed no intention of using force to make Dr. Chen submit.

“How are preparations for the lunar mission?” Dr. Chen asked. “This is humanity’s first journey to the moon. One small step for an individual, one giant leap for all mankind. Do not let anything go wrong.”

“Everything is proceeding normally.”

“Yes. Normality so complete that it is despairing.”

Dr. Chen sat in his swivel chair and turned gently toward the world beyond his office.

Through the glass wall lay the launch site of a space center. Beneath a blood-red sunset, three enormous rockets rose from the earth like unyielding swords thrust straight into the heavens. The sky above had inexplicably darkened, casting the entire scene in a strangely tragic light.

Facing the rockets beneath the evening glow, Dr. Chen wore an expression that seemed almost mournful.

At that very moment, Lan Yi bore a similar look of mourning as he stood atop the tower in the Magic City, looking down upon the metropolis beneath the fading radiance of the setting sun. Though the city was bustling beyond measure, its noise seemed unusually shrill and irritating.

In his eyes, every person in that vast city was a specter wearing human skin and a false smile. They lived numb, mechanical lives along predetermined paths, only to become tiny snacks chewed by some indescribably immense existence.

Of the human race that would finally attain release—of the millions upon millions who could still be called human—would even one survive?

“When, exactly, did it begin?”

With a turn of his hand, Lan Yi took out the statue of the Five Directional Gods of Wealth.

Before the master finished arranging for the guests to arrive, he intended to take a look at the future.