Chapter 74: But Shouldn’t Someone Look Up at the
One sentence from above, running errands until your legs break below.
Andrew returned to his office and began racking his brains, polishing the recruitment message for the base.
The thought of having to transmit it back to the boss for final approval after writing it filled Andrew’s heart with the thick, suffocating despair of a corporate wage slave.
Xiang Nanli had sent over many pictures, all taken using Gospel’s electronic eyes. They were shots of the base’s interior.
Andrew hadn’t even been there himself yet, so he couldn’t help but look through them with keen interest.
Xiao Fu wasn’t very tall, so from its perspective, the buildings of the base all looked towering and majestic.
The geothermal well had begun to operate. Because they didn’t need much electrical energy yet, the excess hot water circulated through pre-laid underground pipes. The years of accumulated snow covering the main streets melted, and the snowmelt flowed into the drainage grates on both sides of the road.
Flanking the streets were abandoned concrete buildings. The tallest were only five or six stories high. It was evident that they were originally shopping malls, schools, or residential buildings. It was also apparent that all the buildings were squarely shaped, like horizontal rectangular prisms. The building facades were recessed, creating rows of small, square windows. This design was to prevent snow buildup on the eaves.
To withstand the cold and earthquakes, these buildings had been constructed with extremely thick walls.
At the end of the street, the factory chimneys were puffing out steam, their lights glowing brightly.
Surrounded by a vast expanse of white snow, this industrial city sat on flat ground, presenting a completely different landscape from the Eternal City.
Well… Andrew didn’t know that these were specific sections Xiao Fu had meticulously cleaned up just to take photos.
The vast majority of the place was still just ruins.
As he continued flipping through the folder, portraits of people appeared.
He wondered if Xiang Nanli had even reviewed these photos before sending them over.
Andrew guessed he hadn’t.
In one of the photos, Xiang Nanli was wearing gloves, looking down as he held an intricate yet outdated gear-driven dynamometer. Various gauges, wires, and chips were scattered messily across the workbench.
Judging by the angle, Gospel was standing on the workbench when taking it.
Xiang Nanli was looking at the mechanical device in his hands, while Dongfang Qingdi was looking right at him; probably only a dense robot would fail to notice the affection hidden within that gaze.
Amidst his sympathy, Andrew also felt a bit of schadenfreude, his thoughts highly aligning with Gospel’s—You may be omnipotent, shining as bright as the midday sun; you can control the flow of every piece of data, control the rise and fall of the sun, moon, and stars… but you have absolutely no way to control another independent soul.
You get defensive, irritable, sensitive, and put up false bravado.
And the cause of it all is simply that you desire love, desiring this love to fill the innate defect in your soul.
Thinking of this, Andrew couldn’t help but sigh emotionally.
Then he flipped to the final photo Xiang Nanli had sent him.
It was a group photo taken on the day the laboratory was completed. In the very front stood the base’s important named cadres, and behind them were robots 01 through 08.
Andrew looked at the somewhat unfamiliar robot in the photo—unfamiliar because its face had changed, yet familiar because Mo Bei’s body was still composed of those same old parts from back then, the exact same model as Andrew’s.
Oh, he’s changed his name to Beichen now.
Rubbing his finger over the photo on the screen, he typed the first line into his document file.
“Citizens of the Eternal City, my dear friends, this is a letter requesting assistance…”
How wonderful.
This will be a brand new beginning.
By the time Xiang Nanli finished inspecting the school, it was already 10:00 PM, his usual bedtime.
Based on Dongfang Qingdi’s understanding of humans, Xiang Nanli was well into adulthood; staying up late and lacking sleep wouldn’t stunt his growth, but it easily led to a bad mood, hormonal imbalances, or even sudden death.
Therefore, he spoke up right on cue: “It’s time for bed. Leave the rest for tomorrow.”
If they really tried to count them, the tasks would never end, one after another.
Xiang Nanli shook his head: “No can do. Xiao Qing, once we sleep, it’ll be our second day at the base. We have to go see Sirius on the very first day; otherwise, it’ll seem like we don’t value him enough. It looks like a small matter, but it’s fundamentally an issue of attitude.”
Xiang Nanli didn’t care much about social niceties, but it wasn’t that he didn’t understand them at all. He lacked that innate instinct, but he observed, thought, and absorbed.
Back when holding academic conferences, who sat in the front row and who took the center spot in group photos were all matters of meticulous arrangement. Later on, Xiang Nanli was always in the center spot, so he stopped caring about those things.
But from Luo Yang’s reports on which Immortality Tech employees got raises and who was let go at 35, Xiang Nanli could analyze a few of the underlying rules.
He and Luo Yang rarely disagreed; from his memory, it had only happened once.
Xiang Nanli had taken a liking to a young man and his technology, wanting to keep him by his side. Luo Yang, however, believed the man was just full of hot air and empty talk—more like a financial scammer using concepts to swindle money than a true scholar.
That technology was certainly immature, so Xiang Nanli occasionally researched it as well. The two of them often chatted late into the night in the company’s laboratory until Luo Yang came with a cold face to urge Xiang Nanli to get off work.
When he saw this technician’s name on the layoff list, Xiang Nanli was extremely surprised but ultimately chose to trust Luo Yang’s decision.
He and Luo Yang jointly steered the development of the massive ship that was Immortality Tech.
Xiang Nanli admitted that he was not a pragmatist. He was deeply interested in many things that only existed in theory, which could potentially cause a massive waste of resources behind the scenes. And in the end, he might only reach some conclusions that might never be realized.
Pragmatism, pragmatism. It seems everything revolves around the material world. People act like the thirstiest hyenas, chasing after money, prestige, and power… but shouldn’t someone look up at the stars?
After that technician left Immortality Tech, he used Xiang Nanli’s private subsidies to establish a cryonics technology center.
He was getting off track.
The reason Xiang Nanli visited the pasture today was to see if he could bump into Ezekiel and slowly initiate contact under the principles of peace and friendship.
It would be even better if he could coax Ezekiel and the entire pack of Crawlers back to the base when he left.
But the cows in the pasture were skinny and gaunt; it was obvious the Mutants had just eaten their fill not long ago, so they probably wouldn’t come.
Only then did Xiang Nanli drop the idea.
After many days, Xiang Nanli finally arrived at the underground level of the Eternal City once again, accompanied by Xiao Qing.
The previous earthquake had destroyed many of the underground circuits, and Andrew had no intention of spending money to repair them. What a joke; how could the funds for city construction be wasted down here?
The entrance to the incubation pool was pitch-black, carrying the chilling, damp aura of an underground cavern.
Xiang Nanli sniffed the air; a bizarre, foul stench permeated the surroundings, making him somewhat uncomfortable.
It is said that the sense of smell was also an evolutionary trait developed by ape-men to perceive danger. The smells of rot, foulness, and blood trigger an instinctual human aversion. Most of the monkeys who were indifferent to these smells were eliminated because they ate the wrong things.
Just as Xiang Nanli was hesitating whether to go back and grab a flashlight, Dongfang Qingdi grabbed his hand and spoke, “Let’s go.”
It was still so dark he couldn’t see his fingers in front of his face. From the darkness came the “hissing” sounds of monsters, along with a strange, metallic sound of scales scraping. Even the foul odor in his nasal cavity remained pungent.
Yet, Xiang Nanli’s mood inexplicably calmed down.
It turned out it wasn’t the darkness he feared; what he feared was facing such unknowns without a companion walking beside him.
Unable to see, Xiang Nanli could only walk by feel. After accidentally stepping on empty air a few times on the stairs, holding hands turned into Dongfang Qingdi carrying him on his back.
Xiao Qing’s long hair carried a very faint fragrance, like springtime freesias.
Andrew had said the underground embryo had hatched. Sirius had been awake briefly but fell into a deep sleep not long after being born, and Andrew didn’t know what the situation was.
Surprisingly, the Holy Spirit incubation chamber was illuminated by a dim red glow.
Xiang Nanli hopped off Dongfang Qingdi’s back and observed their surroundings.
The last time he saw it, the pool was filled with companion spirits of all sizes. The large ones were seven or eight meters long, looking terrifying and grotesque.
Now, the pool only contained a few slender red snakes. They coiled around a nest in the very center, which was constructed from branches and clumps of dirt.
Some were coiled on the ground; some were hanging in mid-air.
However, as Xiang Nanli stepped closer, he realized these red snakes had long since died; they were merely shed skins.
Looking somewhat disgusted, Dongfang Qingdi pinched one between his fingers, analyzed it, and concluded: “They were sucked dry.”
The heavy breathing inside the nest quietly stopped after Dongfang Qingdi spoke. But the stench of blood and the chilling sensation didn’t vanish; instead, they grew even thicker.
Bending down, Xiang Nanli saw a pair of reflective eyes within the nest.
He called out tentatively: “Sirius?”
Hiss, hiss.
The sound of scraping scales echoed.
Sirius slithered out from the nest.
Only his upper half emerged.
To think Sirius had actually survived after suffering such severe injuries previously.
His upper body still retained a human appearance, but the torso below his abdomen had completely transformed into a snake, revealing only a thick, long black serpentine body.
And from the point at his waist where the snake transformation began, another snake head branched out. This split-off body part was roughly the size of a human.
This made the Holy Spirit’s appearance look incredibly bizarre.
This snake head constantly hissed. Hunger made this part of the body exceptionally irritable, short-tempered, and highly aggressive.
Sirius’s snake tail was much longer than most people would imagine. His head nearly touched the ceiling of the incubation pool, his body coiling into a loop in mid-air.
Without speaking, Sirius lowered his head to look at Xiang Nanli and Dongfang Qingdi.
When he first hatched, Sirius had been entirely in snake form, perfectly aligning with the “Holy Spirit” the Divine Court desired.
But over this period, he had been constantly trying to revert to a human form.
He had achieved some results, but not many.
His mind was in utter chaos. Human memories and the inherited memories of a monster flashed back and forth continuously. Sirius could see some images of the human world, but he couldn’t comprehend them.
The person in front of him looked somewhat familiar, but he similarly didn’t want to get close.
…Because it would cause people to get hurt.
Hiss, hiss.
The snake head suddenly launched an attack. Jaws wide open, it lunged toward Xiang Nanli’s position.
It received a punch from Xiao Qing.
Before Xiang Nanli could even see clearly, Dongfang Qingdi’s fist had already smashed into the top of the snake head. Rubble flew as the snake head was viciously pounded half a meter deep into the ground. Dark black blood seeped from the cracks, and the snake head let out an agonized hiss.
Dragged down by it, Sirius collapsed messily to the ground, also coughing up a mouthful of blood mixed with ruptured organs.
He raised his head to look at the people before him. His eyes were a dim grey-blue; no pupils could be seen, only tiny blood vessels.
Xiang Nanli took a half-step back, shocked: “…Sirius, shouldn’t you change your name to Ophiuchus now?”
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Author’s Note:
Note: Both Sirius and Ophiuchus are names of stars/constellations.
