Chapter 987 - This Game Is Too Realistic

### Chapter 987: Shelter 13 "We've arrived." The elevator leading to Shelter 13 within the vast desert finally came to a halt. Based on the descent speed and time, Zhuang Lan silently calculated the depth of their current location to be at least a kilometer below the surface, if not deeper. At the gate ahead, a soldier clad in an exoskeleton pressed his arm against the control panel on the wall, completing the identity verification process. "Buzz..." Accompanied by a tremor likened to an earthquake, a seam split open on the wall in front of them, gradually widening as the wall moved aside, ultimately revealing a path over ten meters wide. Unbelievable. That alloy wall proved to be a seamlessly fitting door! It's clear that many changes have occurred within the Enlightenment Society during her absence... Astonished by the transformation of her former employer over the past two years, Zhuang Lan remained vigilant, though she kept any surprise from showing on her face. After all, her current identity was that of "Lieutenant Malik," captain of the Desert Scorpions special forces. And before this, "he" had been here. Acknowledging this implicitly understood fact, the soldier made no display of it, instead turning to face "Malik" after verifying the identity. "The Ministry of Interior just sent a message. They've approved the documents you submitted. However, due to your encounters during the escape and the Alliance's regular army's combat strength, they need to clarify some details. They'll likely arrange a debriefing for you." "When?" "In three days." Malik stared at him expressionlessly, spreading his hands. "Why not now? It's not like I'm busy." "We need to interrogate the guy you brought back from the Alliance first, see what we can extract from him," the soldier continued in a relaxed tone. "Besides, you're a hero; we should make sure you're settled in properly. We can't treat you like a prisoner." It seemed "Malik" had regained the trust of the Enlightenment Society. Zhuang Lan let out a silent sigh of relief, though her expression remained unchanged, her words adhering strictly to her role. "I don't deserve the credit. Although the intelligence system bears half of the blame, it's a fact that I messed up... Many have paid the price with their lives." Seeing Malik's mild despondency, the soldier at the gate offered comfort. "Don't blame yourself. We don't judge heroes solely on success or failure. Capturing one person despite an ambush from the Alliance is quite an achievement... And I'm truly sorry for what happened to your comrades." He, too, led a group of young people. This was why he understood Malik's current feelings so well. As the two spoke, a tall, slender man emerged from behind the now-open alloy door. He wore a silver-gray suit, its fabric as smooth as silk and completely dust-free. His skin mirrored this smoothness, resembling the alloy walls with its flawless, elegant hue. His looks were perhaps his most understated trait. His gestures were impeccable and graceful, reminiscent of a butler from a classical noble manor, capable of organizing even the smallest details flawlessly. Though his appearance was indistinguishable from a real human, Zhuang Lan immediately recognized he wasn't truly human. He was a bionic man. Perfection often harbors flaws, whereas only artificial creations achieve such pure, untainted forms. While Zhuang Lan observed him, the man at the entrance nodded slightly, speaking in a gentle tone. "Hello, Mr. Malik. I am your guide and life assistant during your stay at 'Utopia'. You may call me 'Butler'." "Although you've visited before, at that time, our 'Utopia' was incomplete, and many things have changed since then." "To help you quickly adapt to life here, I will be reintroducing you to our home." Zhuang Lan nodded in acknowledgment, then bid farewell to the soldier who brought her here, following the bionic man who called himself "Butler". As they headed towards the shelter, the bionic man explained the details of "Utopia" along the way, especially the changes over the past year. According to the Watcher Organization's intelligence, Malik's last visit to Utopia was a year ago, where he stayed for ten days. To avoid exposing any flaws, Zhuang Lan refrained from saying unnecessary words, occasionally asking questions about unclear details. After traversing a corridor, the two arrived in a spacious underground chamber, where a giant gear-like gate caught her eye. This gate resembled the entrance to many shelters. However, unlike others, it lay flat on the ground, akin to a freight elevator's platform. Noticing this, Zhuang Lan was slightly taken aback. She couldn't fathom how much energy it would take to operate this massive door. The Enlightenment Society's energy reserves might exceed the Watcher Organization's estimates. Understanding their energy source would be advantageous. While Zhuang Lan pondered, the massive gear beneath them began to sink slowly. A tunnel-shaped archway soon appeared in the concrete wall beside the platform, marking the final passage to Shelter 13. Suppressing her excitement, Zhuang Lan walked calmly behind "Butler", stepping into the core secrets of the Enlightenment Society— Here lay the "handle" of the Torch! And the heart of the Torch Project! Dazzling light spilled down the alloy corridor. As Zhuang Lan finally traversed that last tunnel, what unfolded before her eyes didn't disappoint. It left her momentarily stunned in awe. The scenery opened up, revealing exponentially larger spaces, making one feel as if stepping into another world or back above ground. Towering buildings stood like mountain ranges on either side of this vast expanse. Overhead stretched a cerulean sky; below lay an abyss without end. Yet even residents in the lowest tier needn't worry. Luminous stripes embedded in the building exteriors would beam warm light down to the bottom of this "shelter," sharing boundless prosperity equally with every resident here. Semi-transparent pipes and bridges crisscrossed between the buildings, linked by sparkling "crystal balls." Suspended like soap bubbles between structures, they preserved the planet’s now-rare natural scenery for leisure and admiration. Long, linear vehicles zipped through thick pipes, transporting passengers and goods either into the crystals floating mid-air or from one end of the shelter to the other. It was akin to a city built within a volcano's crater. Of course, this wasn't a real volcanic crater; the sky above was undoubtedly fake. Zhuang Lan knew full well how long the descent had taken her. The actual depth here likely exceeded even her conservative estimate. Undoubtedly, the radiant sun was artificial. That clarity, so captivatingly blue, and those clouds, white as cotton—such sights were exceedingly rare on the wasteland. It wasn't an exaggeration to say this buried world truly deserved the name "Utopia." Any wasteland wanderer standing here would surely call it paradise without hesitation. Seeing "Mr. Malik" pause, the butler spoke in a gentle voice. "We designed this underground world following the standard of the Dream City. Coming from that era, you surely know what I mean by Dream City." Zhuang Lan nodded slightly. She knew well what it was. Legend has it that in a distant age of prosperity, people feared that their hard-won progress might collapse overnight, prompting the creation of a second home in the eternal cosmos. That was Dream City. A space dwelling with artificial days and seasons, gravity could sustain itself even if the surface world perished—a utopia immune to decay. If the Ideal City symbolized survivors' nostalgia for the good old days half a century ago, then Dream City embodied the age of prosperity's visions and aspirations for the future. Gazing at the closest "soap bubble," Zhuang Lan, standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows, voiced her reflection after a long moment. "My comrades and I eat sand in the great desert, yet you've already found comfort here." This wasn't just Malik's remark but also her own sigh of reflection. The butler smiled. "Because the opportunity has arrived." "Opportunity?" "The opportunity to enter a new era." The butler extended his index finger to the transparent glass, causing ripples to expand outward from his fingertip. The entire glass wall seemed to turn into a magnifying lens, bringing the distant scenery directly to the two standing at the shelter's entrance. As the distant scene magnified, Zhuang Lan not only saw the people within the park clearly but also the smiles that adorned their faces. "...Thanks to the gods' helping hand, the situation has never been more favorable for us. The upper echelons have adjusted their strategy regarding the wasteland. From now on, we need do nothing—just wait patiently." Zhuang Lan furrowed her brow slightly. She'd found it odd that no one had mentioned rebuilding the "Desert Scorpions" regiment. "Wait for what?" "The divine retribution." "Divine retribution?" Zhuang Lan paused in surprise. "Indeed." Facing Lieutenant Malik’s inquisitive gaze, the butler nodded slightly, turning his eyes to the nearby utopia, and spoke in a gentle yet chilling tone. "The flames of retribution will scorch away everything of the old world, and in the new world, we will find a haven for rest... as recompense for assisting the celestial beings in their mission." At this point, the butler looked at “Malik” standing beside him, continuing with a smile. "Oh, I nearly forgot to mention, your task is complete." Zhuang Lan asked, "What do you mean by complete?" The butler replied warmly, "This is the upper echelon’s decision. You'd have to ask an insider for specifics. In short, they asked me to inform you that there are currently no plans to rebuild the 'Desert Scorpions.’" "While there are still many soldiers on field missions, once they finish, no more new tasks will be assigned, and they will return here... Of course, we'll calculate your contributions and then ensure you live better in the new era." Zhuang Lan stared at him in shock before slowly nodding. "Sounds nice... though a little disappointing." The butler looked at him puzzled, "Disappointing? I don't understand." Zhuang Lan remained silent, glancing back at the corridor leading to the outside world. "My comrades... I promised them revenge." The butler's expression lit up with understanding, and he smiled lightly, "Those things don’t matter anymore. Your enemies will be nothing but dust in the aftermath of the final divine retribution… Let the past grudges stay in the past; it will help us go further." Zhuang Lan nodded and turned her gaze to the distant dome. Garden robots manicured the lawns, people in blue coats strolled along park paths, and some walked their dogs. Vending machines supplied children with unlimited ice cream, while attractive androids handed out what were likely free balloons. A family sitting on a bench chatted happily... maybe they were discussing the new era. Though it seemed like a beautiful dream, Zhuang Lan couldn't shake a sense of unreality. It's not that the scenes were false or holographic imitations. She could discern from her intelligence work that these were real people... Much more real than the android beside her. Suddenly, she recalled her initial impression of this "butler." Naturally created things always have flaws, only man-made creations can attain such purity devoid of impurities. The dome was a similar entity. Or rather— The whole utopia was like that. The people here weren't just living; it felt more like they were being nurtured by some higher power, encased within transparent bubbles. A chill crept over Zhuang Lan, but meeting the smiling gaze, she nodded. "It's quite nice." — Elsewhere, in a small room on the surface above Shelter 13, a medical marvel lay strapped to a memory extraction device, enduring a round of enforced "therapy." The Enlightenment Society didn’t bother with alluring tactics; instead, they went straight for brute coercion, which left the long-expectant medical marvel somewhat disappointed. At least give him a chance to "correct his ways"! However, his disappointment didn't last long before he blacked out and disconnected. In the special interrogation room, a doctor in a lab coat stood by the operating table, scratching his head in confusion over the error messages on the control panel. "How strange." Seeing results, the officer on standby hurriedly asked, "What’s strange?" The doctor fiddled with the control interface for a while, then retracted his finger from the touchscreen, looking puzzled as he said to the officer beside him. "The memory extractor did activate, but the subject showed no response to external stimuli... neither visual nor audio signals. It feels as if..." He pondered a moment, finally speaking hesitantly. "As if this guy’s brain is empty." "Empty?!" The officer standing by the operating table was stunned. How could anyone's brain be empty? He’d never encountered such an anomaly before! Typically, they could extract every last thought from survivors, whether from shelter managers or wasteland legends. Never had they faced an unreadable mind. Seeing the befuddled doctor, the officer suggested, "Maybe try again?" The doctor shook his head. "Wait a couple of days. This guy’s brain suffered severe trauma; any immediate attempts might make him a lunatic. Although you might not concern yourself with that, it would be a loss to us." To be honest, he was also puzzled. Even if they strapped a dog to the table, they'd extract something, however abstract. As an expert in neuroscience, he was suddenly intrigued by this obstinate subject. Could the Alliance have found a way to counteract memory extraction devices? This might become a valuable experiment material. The officer hesitated for a moment and finally nodded begrudgingly to accept the suggestion. "Alright then..." Even if he disagreed, he had no better ideas. Neither of the two knew that the medical marvel on the table had actually woken up but kept his eyes closed. Initially, when the memory extractor was fitted, the medical marvel anticipated seeing something interesting, but blacked out instead. Realizing he might miss out on major plot points, he quickly reconnected with determination. Persistency paid off. After nearly half an hour of relentless attempts, a faint gleam finally pierced his eyelids, imprinting on his character’s retina. He then overheard the quack saying he was crazy and needed observation. The medical marvel smirked inwardly. He wasn’t crazy; he was perfectly fine. Yet considering this could be his ticket to infiltrating the Enlightenment Society, he resisted the urge to scare them by waking suddenly and disconnected. His intuition told him, an opportunity like no other lay before him! Before long, a bizarre post appeared on the official forum— "Brothers, how do you act like a madman? (Awkward)" "Reply ASAP, it’s urgent." (Hand slipped, didn't finish the space story, will post tomorrow.) To be continued...