Chapter 991 - This Game Is Too Realistic

**Chapter 991: "Ghost"** The air was painfully silent—a deathly stillness where the gathered crowd, initially murmuring and gazing as if watching a spectacle, had fallen silent. In that moment, Wu Xinghuan stood frozen, as if his mind had shut down. Xiao Yong, arms crossed, slightly furrowed his brow, while Luo Yi seemed lost in thought. As for Koala, he continued to scratch his head, his blank, beady eyes resembling those of an actual koala more and more. "Your grave..." After what seemed like an eternity, Koala broke the silence. "So... does that mean... we're already dead?" "Yes," Ye Shi replied, keeping his eyes closed. "Then how did we die?" Koala wasn't giving up, "There must be a reason, right?" "How would I know how you died?" Ye Shi gave him a bewildered look and replied matter-of-factly, "I haven’t even gone into the grave yet." "Oh... right," Koala seemed convinced, scratching the back of his head and muttering to himself, "You haven't gone in yet." Ye Shi sighed deeply, exasperated by the recruitment standards of the Human Federation Space Force, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling. His mind was a tangled mess, like a ball of yarn with no discernible end to unravel. Blame it on the game being too realistic, perhaps? Without a menu interface, VM, or logout feature, he couldn’t discern whether he was still in the game or had truly traveled through time. Naturally, he hoped for the former. After all, even if one were to cross over to another world, who would want to end up inside a grave? All the more reason since he was content with his current life and had no wish to start anew in an unfamiliar environment. Yet, if he were in the game, he couldn’t fathom why he couldn’t log out, much less comprehend the fate of his real body. Several hours, perhaps even more than ten, had passed since he first blacked out. The fact that Jiujiu hadn't broken in to wake him by now suggested something must have gone wrong, leaving him unable to awaken in the real world. Contemplating these matters, Ye Shi felt a headache coming on again. The only good news was that just before waking up, he faintly heard that voice calling his name yet again. And the adorable "Achoo." Without a doubt, it was Jiang Xuezhou’s voice. It really was a conflicted emotion—the person he wanted to save becoming his sole comfort now. At least she was nearby... "I think he’s losing it," Xiao Yong, who stood at the door, uncrossed his arms, shook his head, and walked off. Luo Yi did not leave, remaining in a contemplative state, appearing to be recalling something. Lin Youyou, standing beside the treatment bed, softly placed her hand on Ye Shi's forehead, a hint of worry etched on her face. "Your heart rate is unstable, and your metabolic levels are low. It’s best you lie down and rest..." "I don't need rest," Ye Shi grumbled, shifting away, unaccustomed to such attentive care, "…I don’t need your worry either. You should worry about yourselves instead." He couldn’t understand if these people were just too thick-skinned; their calmness in the face of their own demise baffled him. Of course, it was possible they simply saw him as a curiosity, much like how players often found amusement in the absurd predicaments of certain NPCs. Initially, he worried they couldn’t handle the harsh truth of their deaths, but it seemed he had overthought it. Watching the boy sulking, Lin Youyou merely smiled gently, withdrawing her hand. "We’ll take care of ourselves, and also look after you, as you are our patient, after all." "I'm not sick," Ye Shi retorted weakly. He was tired of repeating that statement. Especially since it seemed this person regarded him as a child that hadn't grown up, making him feel increasingly uncomfortable. Just then, Doctor Wu, who had been squatting by the treatment bed, suddenly raised his head. "I think I'm the one who's sick..." Finally coming to his senses, he murmured something under his breath and stood up from beside the treatment bed. Lin Youyou raised an eyebrow at this eccentric guy, her expression turning quizzical. "Why don't you lie down for a while?" "No need..." Leaving these words and a bewildered Ye Shi behind, Doctor Wu briskly pushed through the crowd and exited. With a sigh, Lin Youyou lifted her index finger to press against her brow, addressing the people gathered at the medical room door. "My patient needs rest. If you're not here for a check-up, please disperse." It was evident the average quality of citizens in Prosperous Epoch was quite high. Even though the onlookers had not had their fill of gossip, nor satisfied their curiosity about the unfolding drama, most heeded the doctor's words and quickly vacated the medical room entrance, leaving only Luo Yi standing by the doorway. Lin Youyou fixed her gaze on him. "And you? Are you sick?" Luo Yi pointed at his recently operated arm, looking at the duty doctor before him. "I'm here for medical attention, and to have a brief chat with the patient... Don’t worry, I won’t disturb his rest." Lin Youyou said nothing, instead casting an inquiring glance at the patient lying on the treatment bed. However, the latter didn't look at her, fixing his gaze on the doorway and stubbornly repeating what he had said before. "I’ll say it again, I’m not sick." "That's for the doctor to decide, not you or me," Luo Yi remarked with a shrug, assuming it meant consent to a chat, then proceeded to step into the medical room. Pulling up a chair from the side, he settled beside the treatment bed, addressing the boy lying there. "You seem to know me... or maybe I should put it this way, you know my future self?" "Yes." Ye Shi nodded, his gaze fixed on Luo Yi, though still filled with caution, he refrained from the immediate aggression seen before. In fact, thinking it over calmly, regardless of which scenario he was facing, one thing was certain. This place was definitely not the "Orion" cruiser from the Wasteland Era 215 that he had crashed into. Killing him would be useless, and it might even disrupt some sort of time-space paradox, trapping him here forever. That possibility wasn't zero. Just like the hypothesis that he had "crossed over." What mattered most now was keeping calm. And gathering as much information as possible to understand his current situation. At this moment, Luo Yi was unaware of what the child, allegedly from the future, was contemplating. Watching his eyes, he abruptly spoke. "Your skills are impressive." Ye Shi smiled faintly. "You're too kind." Luo Yi chuckled. "Not at all. At your age, I was still pondering which school to apply to. Couldn't even hold a gun, let alone kill." Not averse to some small talk with this guy, Ye Shi casually remarked. "Then you applied to a military school?" Luo Yi shook his head. "No, I eventually chose Environmental Engineering, and joining the army came later." Ye Shi: "...Environmental Engineering? What’s that?" "It's a pile of crap," Luo Yi grinned, continuing, "Back then, our relations with the colonies weren’t as tense. We were still contemplating turning Gaia into another Earth, and using technology from the colonies to terraform other planets in the solar system into habitable worlds... In the end, this field turned out to be a dead end." Ye Shi nodded in understanding. Got it. Simply put, a futile profession of the 22nd century. Luo Yi then asked him. "And you?" Ye Shi candidly replied. "Twenty-fourth century... roughly? By our reckoning, it's Wasteland Era, year 215." Luo Yi with a smile remarked. "Who would have thought the apocalypse lasted that long?" Ye Shi pondered for a moment, then said. "Over two hundred years, though it’s about to end." Luo Yi with curiosity pursued further. "Was it ended by the... Alliance?" Ye Shi responded. "More or less. It wasn't just the Alliance; many people contributed... Then again, the Alliance is a coalition of all survivors. It doesn’t really matter who ends the wasteland times in the grand scheme." Nodding, Luo Yi suddenly remarked, somewhat melancholically. "When I first heard that you'd spent over two hundred years in the wasteland, I was somber because my family was still on Earth, and they wouldn’t live to see an era of peace. But knowing those years have passed and seeing the future with promising young people like you gives me hope... Perhaps the future isn't as bleak as it seems." He paused for a moment, then sincerely added, "It's really good, truly... really good." His words were heartfelt, devoid of any semblance of politeness. Their civilization hadn't been destroyed; instead, it had emerged more youthful and united through the trials of the apocalypse. That, in essence, was the meaning. If, before embarking on his journey home, he harbored any doubt about the outcome of the three-year war—fearing the sight awaiting him would be nothing but ruins—then at this moment, all his worries and apprehensions about the future had vanished. Despite the twists and turns, eventually, the future for all of them was bright. Ye Shi smiled. "Isn't it? I think so too... it was pretty good." Luo Yi raised an eyebrow, jokingly asking, "And then you ran into us?" "More precisely, I ran into you," Ye Shi said directly, locking eyes with him, "You single-handedly took out an academy squad, though with your teammates' help." Luo Yi chuckled awkwardly, "I didn't realize I had that kind of skill... And then what? Did you chase after me, who lived for more than 200 years, all the way into space?" "That sounds ridiculous..." Lin Youyou pressed her fingertips to her temples, a look of disbelief on her face. She preferred to trust her instincts, believing this guy's brain was damaged because he hadn't entered the cryo-pod following proper freezing procedures. Time travel? Such a concept was far too far-fetched. However, lying on the treatment bed, Ye Shi nodded and said matter-of-factly, "Indeed... this wasn't supposed to be our concern, but you took an academy research vessel, navigated through space debris to achieve a synchronous orbit, and then returned to this already destroyed missile cruiser. We received intel that this cruiser stored a hundred thousand neutron torpedoes, if not that number, close to it... You know? We had just finished our last war and were gearing up to celebrate our civilization's entry into a new era, only for this to ruin it." Luo Yi stared at him, his expression gradually turning serious. "Did I say what I intended to do?" Ye Shi smirked, "Did you really need to? You joined an organization called Tianren, a group of madmen hiding out in Lagrange point space stations, akin to the Enlightenment Society, always scheming to blow everything on the surface to smithereens and start anew." "As for you, you never bothered with any dialogue, and even without much thought, we could guess your intentions—to complete the unfinished orbital bombardment mission from over 200 years ago, eradicating the slime molds and wastelanders below, before rebuilding the home you envisioned." Luo Yi's complexion changed entirely. "Orbital bombardment? I've never heard of such a thing." Lin Youyou shot him a strange look, then turned to Ye Shi. "I can vouch that the fleet's work schedule is public knowledge. Something like that couldn't escape our notice." "Perhaps you simply weren't aware?" Ye Shi snorted, "Even those in management wouldn't share all their secrets with us, would they?" Luo Yi pressed a hand to his chest, earnestly stating, "I can swear on my character, even if—by the remotest chance—something like what you described were really happening, where we were unknowingly carrying out a task, or even had unwittingly committed unforgivable crimes... I would never knowingly continue as an accomplice." Ye Shi laughed softly, "Who knows what 200 years might turn you into?" Luo Yi fell silent for a moment before replying in a low voice, "...You have a point, people do change, but I refuse to believe that I'd become like that." "I'm just telling you what I've seen; it's up to you whether you believe it or not," Ye Shi said, glancing at the ceiling. "Of course, I actually believe what you’ve said. After chatting with you for this long, you don't seem like the kind of person to do such things—perhaps there's a misunderstanding here." "Thank you for believing in me," Luo Yi nodded, "Honestly, I understand your anger. If I were in your shoes and traveled back in time, seeing a future war criminal standing before me, I'd hesitate whether to strangle them right then—even if they hadn’t done anything yet." Ye Shi eyed him with interest, "Aren’t you afraid?" "What should I be afraid of?" Luo Yi asked. Ye Shi reminded him, "I made it quite clear, you’re already dead. The clearer the boundary between you and the 'Luo Yi' I mentioned, the lower your chance of being alive. He’s either your clone or a synthetic human." "Two centuries have passed, it's normal if we're dead by now." Luo Yi shrugged, continuing, "Besides, you only found the wreckage of the Orion; that doesn’t prove anything. What if that's in the far future? We’re not always stationed on this ship, and we haven’t even grasped what’s going on from your end." Ye Shi regarded him with surprise, "You folks are pretty optimistic." Lin Youyou placed her hand on Ye Shi’s shoulder, teasing, "Well, we’re not dead yet, are we? We can't scare ourselves witless over something a young man said." "My thoughts exactly," Luo Yi agreed, nodding at the boy on the medical bed. "One last question, what led you to end up in a cryo-pod? Or rather... what did you encounter before you lost consciousness?" Regardless of whether Doctor Wu's hypothesis held water, his instincts told him this was key to unlocking their current predicament. A fleeting moment of confusion clouded Ye Shi’s eyes. "I... honestly, I’m not too sure." Luo Yi was taken aback, exchanging a look with Lin Youyou, before asking again, "What do you mean by 'not too sure'?" "I really don’t know. I think I passed out." Ye Shi tapped his head, looking pained, "I have no memory of how I ended up in the cryo-pod. Our shield had depleted from absorbing a neutron torpedo, and I didn’t even know if I made it. Next thing, we crashed into the Orion wreck around its lower midsection." "Oh, there was another person in the cockpit with me, a girl about my age, named Jiang Xuezhou... Did you see her on that research ship?" Though aware it might be a long shot, Ye Shi gazed at them with hopeful eyes. However, their reactions quickly dashed his hopes. "If we’re talking about the same ship, you were the only one aboard," Luo Yi said seriously, "There was only one cryo-pod, and you were the one inside." "But it is curious—if you were unconscious, how did you end up in the cryo-pod?" Lin Youyou pinched her chin with her thumb and forefinger, deep in thought. "Either your mind suffered fragmentation due to the crash, so you don’t recall crawling into it, or, as you said, there was indeed another person, but somehow we couldn’t see them." Silence settled over the infirmary. Ye Shi suddenly felt a chill around him, as though a ghost was haunting the place. This game didn’t seem to involve anything supernatural, did it? Yet he couldn’t use logic to fathom what was happening, nor reason why he couldn’t log out. "In any case, we’ve gathered two important clues. You first collided with a neutron torpedo, then with our ship... our future ship." Taking note of these clues, Luo Yi rose from his chair. Watching Luo Yi about to leave, Lin Youyou raised an eyebrow. "Not getting treated?" "Already done." He had two tasks at hand. One: re-examine the explosion site. Two: inspect the torpedo bay. Additionally, he needed to present these clues to that guy named Wu. Although that fellow had never been entirely reliable, he was indeed the ship’s only physicist with relevant expertise. If he couldn’t figure it out, who else would? Surely not himself, a soldier with an "Environmental Engineering" background? Lying on the treatment bed, Ye Shi closed his eyes, his face slightly pale. The voice had returned. And it whispered the same four phrases— "Ye Shi..." "It's so cold here..." "Achoo!" "I..." ... Down on the lower deck, in the security office. Several senior officers from Division One gathered before the surveillance monitors, their eyes fixed unblinkingly on the happenings in the medical room. Among them stood Captain Zhao Tianhe, his second-in-command Wu Mengke, the navigator, and others. Respecting the doctor's recommendations, they avoided agitating the patient, opting for a subtler approach—assigning Luo Yi from the Space Combat Unit of Division Three to inquire about what they desperately wanted to know. The conversation between Luo Yi and Ye Shi spanned a long time, bridging the future and the present. The things they discussed might have seemed insignificant to the speakers, but they sent chills down the spines of those listening. The Orion certainly hadn’t carried out any orbital bombardment plans, but the ship's command had indeed received a request for support from the Lagrange Point Space Station. Intelligence indicated that the Earth's surface was largely covered by mutated slime mold nests. Without more comprehensive purification measures, the slime molds' range of activity would likely extend to the vicinity of the Antarctic and Arctic Circles within ten years. In this scenario, rebuilding civilization seemed nearly impossible; indeed, humanity might not even get the chance, potentially being wiped out by Gaia's offspring beforehand. With the space elevator destroyed and the Zhiyuan Colony Ship having recklessly abandoned its plans for extra-galactic colonization, human civilization teetered on the brink of annihilation. The Lagrange Point Space Station's message was clear: the refuge plan had already been initiated, nuclear weapons had been used without restraint, and most of the survivors on the surface were unlikely to make it. It could be better, then, to slam down the accelerator and get it over with. Viewed from the lofty height of preserving civilization, this was about ensuring a spark for continuity. However, the inherent contradiction was that such actions fundamentally shook the very foundation of civilization. Thus, opinions within the Human Federation and the upper echelons of the Space Force were not unified on whether to take this final step, with significant internal divisions existing. These differences hadn't just emerged today; they had been there for a long while, encapsulating the core conflicts throughout the entire war. Some believed the war was against the rebels, while others deemed Gaia the true enemy. Differences, of course, are inevitable. Whenever two people stand next to each other, a divide will form, let alone within a group. The final war, though instigated by the radicals, represented only the most extreme faction. With the colonies' separation, internal contradictions became external ones. Within the conservative majority of the Human Federation leadership, new divisions naturally arose from the current agenda. Those leaning right became the new conservatives, while those leaning left became the new radicals. From the latter's perspective, the war was over, the rebels had been eliminated, and it was time to focus on aftermath management and establishing a new order. This order could include the mutated slime molds since eradicating them entirely was unrealistic. From the former's viewpoint, the utmost priority was to eradicate the surface of every single slime mold at any cost. Any sacrifice towards this was deemed worthwhile. Politics was not Zhao Tianhe’s interest. He understood his role clearly: a professional soldier loyal to the law, even when mainstream opinion within the Space Force leaned towards the former position. However, even unwilling to choose sides, the tide of history had swept him and his men into its current, forcing them to make a choice. After all, when the Lagrange Point Command Center’s orders arrived, only two starships within the entire Space Force and Human Federation retained interstellar travel capability. One was the Orion, the other the Gemini. His ship had the most remaining ammunition, in contrast to the Gemini, likely depleted after orbital bombardments on Gaia. In other words, only they had the capability to execute the doomsday plan. There was no one else... His choice was also clear-cut. He would sooner turn his weapon on himself or his allies than on the civilians he had sworn to protect. If he went through with it, everything fought for over three years would have been in vain. Standing before the surveillance terminal, Wu Mengke glanced worriedly at Captain Zhao Tianhe. "This child knows about the information from the Lagrange Point Space Station. I don't think it's a coincidence; he might indeed come from the future." Zhao Tianhe gazed intently at the screen, nodding slowly. "Indeed." Wu Mengke's expression was complex as she looked away, her hands clenching the armrests involuntarily. "So what do we..." Knowing what she wanted to ask, Zhao Tianhe shook his head, continuing to stare at the screen unwaveringly. "It's hard to say." "Regardless, it’s unquestionable that both you and I are still alive, and our adversaries stand no chance." "I'm actually more inclined to believe that he’s not from our future." "But from a future on 'another timeline'."