Location: Air-Land-Water Mobile Carrier "Timeship."
The door rumbled open as Lance stood at the entrance of the lifeboat.
“Thank God,” Zheng Rong thought as he let out a sigh of relief. The intense series of events had left him dizzy, almost to the point of fainting.
“I brought him back,” Xiang Yu announced.
Zheng Rong stood there, stunned. He should have walked up and given Lance a punch right in his handsome face, yet he didn’t have the strength to move even a finger.
Lance approached, knelt before Zheng Rong, took his hand, and kissed it.
Tears streamed down Lance’s face. Zheng Rong crouched down, knowing that Lance was suffering too. After a moment of silence, he reached out and embraced him.
“I thought you were dead too,” Zheng Rong whispered.
“It was Laini,” Lance explained slowly. “When she heard about Li Ying’s death, she lost her mind. I tried to take the reconnaissance boat to save you, but she locked the hatch before I could.”
“She finally won,” Zheng Rong mumbled, standing up tiredly.
“They’re both dead—Li Ying and Laini. Now she can pursue him in another world, and I’m the one left alive,” Zheng Rong said bleakly.
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Three Months Later, Alaska Underground Main City, Military Tribunal
After the nuclear explosion in Northern Ireland’s main city, only three human shelters remained on Earth. Hundreds of millions of people had failed to escape and died beneath the ocean. The 74th Army was nearly wiped out, disbanded from its establishment.
The exposure of their location and the ensuing attack were nearly apocalyptic.
“We are now reviewing the case of Lance Wallock, Zheng Rong, Joseph Cader, Xiang Yu, Kim Puae, and Ugos Sklodowska.”
“The Human Remnant Alliance has brought a lawsuit before this court, alleging that these individuals communicated with the traitor Li Ying, revealing the location of the Northern Ireland human shelter and leading to a devastating attack by the Mayans.”
Zheng Rong noticed that Lin Siyin was pregnant, sitting in the audience.
An elderly commander wearing glasses said, “We will now hear from the defendant, General Lance Wallock.”
Lance wore a meticulously pressed dark blue military uniform with a stiff collar, standing at the defendant’s stand.
“Please state your case.”
Lance replied, “The accident stemmed from a decision made by the high command of the Northern Ireland military and had nothing to do with the research team formed by several scholars.”
“The East Siberian military base was destroyed because of the failure of the White Book ‘Smuggling’ plan. Physicist Zheng Feng sacrificed his life during this failure. Zheng Rong, as his brother, inherited his legacy and continued with the latter part of the mission.”
“General Lance, the White Book plan has been terminated,” the commander responded.
“It wasn’t terminated. Marshal Peck, as the chief officer, authorized me to continue it,” Lance countered.
The audience and jury members whispered among themselves, and the commander spoke again, “Marshal Peck is deceased. You have no written records to prove your claim.”
A member of the jury said coldly, “Despite knowing Li Ying was a traitor, they brought him into the human underground city, costing 90 million human lives. And in return, all we got was a piece of footage no one can decipher. They deserve the death penalty.”
Zheng Rong shouted, “You won’t let me see it, how can I interpret it?! Everything Li Ying wanted to tell me is in that storage drive! I have to see it before I can explain it to you!”
“Order!” the commander barked.
“Dr. Zheng Rong, when you encountered Li Ying in the Arab Republic of Egypt, do you have any evidence to prove that he was not a traitor?”
“No, I don’t,” Zheng Rong admitted.
“Three years ago, he slaughtered 1,440 members of the Second Army Special Forces and blew up the Indian Ocean human military base. Were you aware of this?”
“He did it to find a memory transfer device—”
“You need only answer yes or no!”
“His final mission wasn’t complete at the time!” Zheng Rong exclaimed angrily. “He couldn’t reveal any information under the Mayan surveillance, or else the bomb in his chest would blow him to pieces! He needed that item and had no choice but to use the massacre to cover his tracks temporarily!”
“He could have contacted the military!”
“He later tried to reach Lance! But the Special Forces attacked him, not even giving him a chance to speak!”
“The people who died at his hands were our best soldiers! And all we have now is a piece of footage that no one can understand!”
“That’s because you won’t let me see it! No one understood him—only I did! Only I do!” Zheng Rong’s voice trembled with fury.
A colonel rushed into the room and whispered a few words into the commander’s ear.
“The Association of Scientists has no right to take custody of military prisoners,” the commander said impatiently.
The colonel pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and placed it in front of the commander.
The commander leaned back in his chair, appearing hesitant.
“He doesn’t have that authority either,” the commander muttered to himself before glancing at Zheng Rong.
“I am Zheng Feng’s brother,” Zheng Rong said coldly. “Ugos Sklodowska is Polish, a descendant of the Curie family. Our ancestors, unlike you military men, didn’t sacrifice their lives directly for the continuation of humanity. But their contributions were equivalent.”
The commander pondered for a long time before finally pulling out a pen and signing the paper.
“Take the two individuals listed on the paper. Detain the others. Court is adjourned.”
The commander struck his gavel. The jury exited, and Lin Siyin’s pale face showed a hint of relief. Zheng Rong moved towards Lance, but the commander interrupted, “Not him—the other one.”
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The Alaska shelter was a massive, ring-shaped main city, dug out by American convicts exiled to the extreme north in 1947. Over time, it expanded. Every brick, every corridor had been built with the blood and lives of tens of thousands of people.
Now, it had become one of humanity’s last three refuges.
The ring-shaped main city was divided into three areas: the outer ring, the inner ring, and the central pillar.
The outer ring was a military zone, housing most of the North American and Russian armies. The inner ring was a civilian residential area. Even in such times, Americans held fast to their rights.
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Zheng Rong, handcuffed, was escorted by soldiers onto a maglev transport belt. Protesters were everywhere—Americans held up doomsday signs, and junkies and the impoverished lay on the roadside.
“Hey—” a man shouted weirdly, “The world’s coming to an end!”
A soldier raised his rifle and shot him in the forehead, leaving a bloody hole.
“Why did you kill him? He was just speaking the truth,” Zheng Rong said expressionlessly.
The soldier glanced at him. “You killed hundreds of millions; I only killed one.”
Zheng Rong said nothing more.
The transport belt stopped in front of the central pillar. Covering 40,000 hectares, it was the largest research facility for humanity. Zheng Rong had visited it as a child, brought here by his brother, Zheng Feng.
Over a decade ago, Zheng Feng had once served as a translator for a prominent master. With his sharp mind and training in physics, Zheng Feng quickly grasped scientific terms and ideas.
When Zheng Rong first saw the central pillar as a child, he thought, “This is a wizard’s tower.”
Many called it the Ivory Tower of Humanity, but Zheng Rong felt that calling the scholars inside wizards was more fitting. Both he and Zheng Feng once dreamed of entering the central pillar of Alaska to conduct research.
But neither fulfilled their dreams. Zheng Feng joined the military, and Zheng Rong shifted from natural sciences to follow in their father’s footsteps—studying history and the occult.
The master who once wanted Zheng Feng as his assistant deeply regretted not getting him, even appealing to the military. When he learned of Zheng Feng’s plans, he kept silent but gave him a notebook filled with physics research notes.
That notebook greatly helped Zheng Feng. And now, with Zheng Rong branded as a criminal, the master requested his bail—to meet and talk.
“My brother and I both owe him a debt,” Zheng Rong thought.
A soldier pulled out a key card and inserted it into the top-floor reader marked “Special Floor.”
A long ascent of almost half an hour later, the elevator stopped on the 1,092nd floor—the very top of the central pillar.
This floor was reserved for a single person.
He had proposed the concept of the Nuclear Magnetic Energy Cannon and developed the theoretical model for the Gravity Field Cannon. These weapons were used in warfare against extraterrestrials and earned him the unanimous reverence of the military.
The soldier removed Zheng Rong’s handcuffs and signaled him to proceed.
The expansive hall was carpeted in red, with bird-of-paradise flowers blooming in vases.
Xiang Yu had changed into a black coat that reached below his knees and wore sunglasses, looking tall, handsome, and dashing.
Standing in a corner of the hall, he sipped distilled water from a transparent glass, observing the tropical fish in an aquarium.
“It’s you,” Zheng Rong said. “You know the professor?”
Xiang Yu looked puzzled. “I don’t know. Who’s asked to see me? They only said you’d be here, so I came.”
Xiang Yu offered Zheng Rong some water, and he took a few sips.
Xiang Yu removed his sunglasses, tucked them into his coat pocket, and rested his hand on Zheng Rong’s shoulder. Together, they gazed at the colorful tropical fish in the tank.
Their full reflection appeared in the tall glass tank. Zheng Rong remembered it clearly—when he visited more than ten years ago, Zheng Feng held his hand, and they stood there, looking at the fish. The master even treated the two brothers to an exquisite Western meal.
Sixteen years had flown by in a blink.
Zheng Rong looked at Xiang Yu’s imposing figure reflected in the tank and softly called, “Brother.”
“Hmm?” Xiang Yu responded. “What is it?”
Zheng Rong and Xiang Yu stood shoulder to shoulder, and after a moment, Xiang Yu took Zheng Rong’s hand and led him around the hall, just as Zheng Feng once led the young Zheng Rong.
A nurse emerged from a small room at the far end of the hall, closing the door behind her.
Xiang Yu and Zheng Rong both turned to look at her.
“The professor is in good health today,” she said softly. “He can have visitors for an hour and forty minutes, though we may need to administer IV fluids during the meeting. Hopefully, he will last without needing them.”
Zheng Rong nodded. “Alright, we’ll keep the conversation short.”
The nurse added, “If you find that he hasn’t responded for more than five minutes, please remember to press the bell on the wall.”
“Are you not coming in with us?” Zheng Rong asked, startled.
“He insisted on meeting you alone,” the nurse replied, gesturing for them to enter.
“Who is this person?” Xiang Yu asked.
“You probably don’t know him,” Zheng Rong said. “But once inside, remember to keep your voice low and be polite. He’s the closest to a god among humans—our professor.”
“Does he know God? Do you mean the Mayans?” Xiang Yu asked, confused.
A slight smile appeared on Zheng Rong’s lips. “No. I mean the God who created the universe—the one who existed before time and space.”
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Pushing open the door, they entered a room with two chairs and a small round table that held a bottle of red wine and nearly ten varieties of cheese with different flavors.
The room was decorated in a European style, spacious but dimly lit. Three walls were filled with categorized memory storage drives, while the fourth was covered by a giant LCD screen.
The screen flickered with static, producing a faint hissing sound. In front of the screen was a wheelchair, facing away from Zheng Rong and Xiang Yu.
Seated in the wheelchair was a solitary old man, who did not turn around.
“Professor, hello,” Zheng Rong greeted gently.
The room dimmed further until the screen went black, and a moment later, a line of English text appeared: “Greetings, young men. We meet again.”
Zheng Rong said to Xiang Yu, “Go and have some wine, try the cheese.”
The old man slowly typed on a small keyboard by his side, and words appeared on the screen at an agonizingly slow pace: “The cheese pairs well with the wine. I suggest you try a little of each; they’re quite delicious. I imagine our conversation might be difficult for you to follow.”
Xiang Yu nodded, took a seat, and began sampling the wine and snacks, while Zheng Rong remained standing.
Zheng Rong looked at the screen. “Thank you for saving me. My brother is already dead. This man was brought over from ancient China after the successful smuggling experiment.”
“I know the full details of the plan,” the old man typed. “The White Book entrusted me with a final backup. Moreover, at my request, the Northern Ireland military has handed over all the data from your investigation. I’ve reviewed everything thoroughly.”
Zheng Rong pulled out a small notebook. “Wonderful. I have so many questions for you. Could you turn up the lights a bit? I’ve prepared a memo on my way here.”
“Let me be the one to ask the questions. My time is shorter than yours,” the old man’s response appeared on the screen.
Zheng Rong put away his notebook and nodded. “Alright.”
“How was the Gravity Field Cannon’s performance? The one installed atop the Northern Ireland Information Hall was merely a prototype,” the old man inquired.
“It worked very well, but when I pushed it to maximum power, it warned me that a black hole might form,” Zheng Rong replied.
“At the black hole's critical point, could it fully eliminate all particle wave interference?”
Zheng Rong furrowed his brows, not quite grasping the question.
“The electronic ‘brain’ you encountered in the Chinese tomb was disrupted after you fired the Gravity Field Cannon. Is that correct, Y/N?”
Zheng Rong suddenly recalled that after the shot, the metal pupa on the head of that giant beetle seemed to have vanished.
“Yes!” he answered with delight.
The old man fell silent.
A long while passed, and Zheng Rong grew uneasy, recalling the nurse’s instructions. Just as he was about to walk over and press the bell, more text appeared on the screen.
“Let’s take a look at the warrior’s memories you brought back. I believe you haven’t had the chance to view them yet.”
Zheng Rong’s heart ached. “Alright.”
A video lasting twenty minutes played, and Xiang Yu looked up as the light on the screen shifted. Zheng Rong’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he couldn’t stop sobbing.
The image froze on the final frame. Zheng Rong stared at it in a daze, muttering, “I never knew... He hid all of this in his thoughts of me. Every day away from me, Li Ying must have been thinking of me…”
The screen dimmed.
“I’m deeply moved. Regarding this footage, I believe you understand most of it,” the old man typed.
“I do. But there’s a part, that ten-minute span under the spotlight, that I completely don’t understand,” Zheng Rong replied.
“I’ve recorded my hypothesis in a document. You can reference it when you return.”
Zheng Rong wiped away his tears and nodded.
“Professor, do you believe in the existence of souls?” Zheng Rong murmured.
The old man’s text appeared on the screen: “Pope Paul once asked me if I believed in God. I told him I never denied the existence of God; I merely added the limitations of time and space to His creation of the universe.”
“Now, I must answer you sincerely: in my eyes, a soul is memory, consciousness, a chaotic brainwave. The human body is a vessel that can both emit and receive.
“When an individual dies, the species continues to evolve. The destruction of a body may simply strip consciousness of its container, leaving it to drift in the vast universe, cycling through time and space. One day, it will return.”
“Thank you,” Zheng Rong whispered.
“I need your help with something,” the old man typed.
“Of course.”
“I have bailed out the two of you in the name of the Association of Scientists, as well as on my own behalf. Three days from now, the central pillar will hold a symposium. Please return and read the materials I give you. With the knowledge of physics you inherited from Zheng Feng, you should understand most of it.”
Zheng Rong’s voice trembled slightly, “What... What kind of report am I to give them?”
“An analytical report on this memory footage. You represent my views, as well as your own. After the symposium, the military might continue to support your investigation. Hopefully, they will forgive the hero for the mistakes he made along the path of saving the world.”
Zheng Rong nodded.
“Live on,” the old man said through the screen. “You carry Zheng Feng’s ideals—the continuation of countless people's will.”
“I will,” Zheng Rong promised softly.
Realizing that the conversation was coming to an end, Xiang Yu stood and asked, “What did you want to tell me?”
“To confirm a hypothesis of mine,” the old man replied.
“What hypothesis?” Zheng Rong asked.
“Just a hypothesis, one that will take time to verify,” the old man said.
The nurse knocked on the door, then entered. “Time’s up, professor.”
“Wishing you good health, professor, and may you live long,” Zheng Rong said.
The old man in the wheelchair nodded slowly.
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Xiang Yu and Zheng Rong bade farewell to the old man and left the hall. Xiang Yu pulled out a piece of cheese from his pocket, grinning. “This cheese is pretty good.”
He offered Zheng Rong a piece, and he ate it, smiling. “I saw several kinds on the plate.”
“This one’s just right,” Xiang Yu replied.
“My brother also only liked Parma cheese. Let’s go,” Zheng Rong said.