Devouring World Dragon

Chapter 201 The Cicada Project

Two weeks later, in the suburbs of New York, USA.

"Tsk tsk, have the terrorists in Boston still not been caught?"

"I heard they were actually Russian spies who, after failing to steal intelligence, ended up shooting civilians and escaping by plane... but Russia just won't admit it."

"Ah, Russia, that evil country..."

On a street with few pedestrians, as two passersby chatted, a man and two women walked past them. They had scarves around their necks and woven hats on their heads, which was quite normal in this increasingly cold season.

However, when he heard what the two passersby said, the man seemed to glance at them unconsciously, but his eyes were filled with vigilance. Only after confirming that no one paid attention to the three of them did he continue to walk forward with his head down.

A large poster was pasted on the shop window next to me, featuring three people: one man and two women, along with a large warning statement.

"Beware of terrorists!"

Terrorists? Pshaw.

The man wore a sneer. Ever since the incident in Boston, media outlets around the world had mobilized to portray it as a terrorist attack, subtly implying that Russia might be behind it.

Since Russia has always been implicitly considered the successor to the "evil empire of the Soviet Union," it's already so troubled that it doesn't care about having too many problems. Adding a suspected "mastermind behind terrorist attacks" label to its head won't raise any suspicions.

As the international controversy unfolded, the pursuing vehicles, the strafing bullets, the long-range RPG rocket launchers, the armed helicopters in the air, and so on were inadvertently obscured and ignored...

An open gunfight in a metropolis was resolved so casually that it faded away without a trace. This allowed the man to witness the terrifying nature of the organization that was truly behind it all. In contrast, the guy who could single-handedly fight against that massive force without being at a disadvantage was even more astonishing.

Now, the three of them are heading in the direction they were being guided, and they can sense that the person they have been searching for seems to be very close.

……

It was an unremarkable two-story building, nothing special about it, and it seemed to have no connection to the title of "Nameless World Ruler." But a voice could be clearly heard from the single-hole earpieces they carried.

"arrive."

It wasn't the female voice of the past, but the voice of a young boy so young it was astonishing.

Is this his real voice?

An idea popped into Roberts' mind, but he didn't do anything extra. He just glanced around casually, and after confirming the surroundings one last time, he stepped forward and tentatively knocked on the somewhat simple wooden door.

"Bang..."

But the next moment, he realized that the door was not closed, but only slightly ajar.

"Come in, I have been waiting for you for a long time."

A calm, youthful voice rang out not from the headphones, but directly from behind the door.

Roberts pushed open the door and saw an armchair next to a fireplace. The somewhat thin figure sat by the fireplace, his back to them without turning around, facing a strange monitor, constantly typing on the keyboard.

Contrary to Roberts' expectations, the figure was even thinner than in the photo, practically frail.

“Mr. Roberts, we’ve finally met.”

Then, after pressing the last key, the figure stood up and turned to look at the three people in front of him. He had a thin face, calm eyes, somewhat sickly pale skin, and a stature that was slightly shorter than his peers.

On the surface, this young man named Uberto Bruni appeared excessively sickly. In the photos, he already looked quite unhealthy, with messy hair and thick dark circles under his eyes. But in real life, he was even more frail. Compared to the strong and robust Roberts, he was like a chick facing a fierce tiger. However, neither Roberts nor Wendy dared to underestimate the person in front of them.

Judging from his current abilities, no one could find him if he didn't want to, yet he appeared openly before the three of them. Uberto Bruni glanced at the group before him—Roberts and Wendy, and Joan, whom they were protecting behind them—and inexplicably smiled.

"I think we need to celebrate."

"What's your purpose?"

Roberts was not moved by Uberto's goodwill and instead asked warily.

On their journey there, the three encountered many things, being hunted by various forces. At gas stations, in the wilderness, on highways... they almost entirely relied on Uberto's guidance to escape, but this was not enough to make Roberts trust this guy, because he always remembered that he, Wendy, and their daughter were all in this predicament because of his scheme.

As for Uberto, Roberts knew nothing. He only knew that the man in front of him was being hunted by several organizations, led by the Secret Order, but nothing else. The man had never revealed a word about it on the way.

"My purpose..."

The thin young man hesitated for a moment in front of Roberts, seemingly considering how he should answer, before speaking.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just trying to survive?"

Roberts did not answer. He kept a close eye on the other man's every move because he was unsure whether he could believe what he was saying. Although he did not receive a reply from Roberts, the young man did not seem to care much. He simply said something inexplicably.

"Mr. Roberts, do you know about the 'Key to the World'?"

"Have heard a little bit."

Roberts calmly replied that it was an extremely famous treasure, and many legends about it were widely circulated in the Otherworld. It was said to be extremely magical and possessed incredible power, but it had nothing to do with a witcher like Roberts who traveled between the Otherworld and the human world. He had never cared about such things in the past.

Do you know what it looks like?

“…It is said to be a female sculpture made of a strange metal.” Roberts thought for a moment, then said. The young man in front of him nodded and then slowly began to tell his story.

"Yes, people only know it's a sculpture, but they don't know its true nature... It's actually just a treasure chest containing something... Mr. Roberts, as I said, I once successfully controlled all electronic devices through technology, allowing me to monitor the entire human world and know countless secrets. Whether it's the Secret Order, the Freemasons, or any secret organization, no life can escape my eyes."

Roberts frowned and uttered a word.

"cicada?"

"Hmm? You also know about the United States' 'Cicada' project?" The young man raised an eyebrow slightly, then nodded as if he understood.

"Yes, during an operation four years ago, you secretly infiltrated Area 51 with Wendy's help and inadvertently saw the documents for Project Cicada."

Roberts keenly noticed what appeared to be text-like reflections flashing in his pupils. This reminded him of a technology called retinal projection, which theoretically projects images directly in front of the eyes. Google had reportedly put a lot of effort into Google Glass without much breakthrough, but this seemed to have achieved it, and with a mature technology that didn't require glasses...

As for Project Cicada, it was a highly classified project of the United States of America. Long before the concept of "big data" was born, the United States of America had keenly realized the value of electronic devices in intelligence gathering, and eventually formed an unprecedented ambition.

By collecting big data, we can predict and calculate the fate of the entire human world.

Human society is a chaotic system, but not entirely unpredictable. Like the weather, while no one can predict the direction of every gust of wind, one can still predict the general weather. This project is named "Cicada" because cicadas can keenly sense movement before the wind arrives, hence the saying "the cicada senses the wind before it blows." This ambitious project is constantly maintained by a large number of experts who continuously add various data and strive to perfect it.

In the American vision, when the "cicadas" mature, they will be able to predict the course of human society like they predict the weather forecast, thus arbitrarily leading human society toward the outcome they desire. At that time, a world government with unprecedented dominance will be formed, any rebellion will be predicted, any economic hidden dangers will be predicted, and any possible potential threats will be prevented in advance.

Faced with this plan, the implementers believe that any old government organization will be insignificant, just as a space fleet facing a droplet or an ancient army wielding cold weapons to fight off distant artillery fire. The old ideas are outdated, and the sheer number of them will be meaningless in the face of new-era technology.

When Uberto recounted his past, Roberts keenly realized that this was exactly the "Cicada" that the US government had been desperately pursuing, except... it seemed that someone had already achieved this plan ahead of time.

Looking at the composed, thin young man in front of him, Roberts knew he could kill him in less than a second, but he dared not think so. He felt completely exposed, as if he were standing naked in front of the other man.

"The United States is indeed a very capable group. They have hired many capable people, but unfortunately, monkeys are just monkeys after all. A country composed of monkeys is just a monkey kingdom. Without high-performance artificial intelligence, without reasonable models, and lacking sufficient information, the Cicada Project is nothing more than an anthill built by ants."

The young man calmly sat down again in front of Roberts, drinking the water in front of him. Although his words were plain, Roberts could still sense the arrogance and conceit in his heart. In his eyes, the United States was nothing more than a country of monkeys, and the Cicada Project was nothing more than an anthill.

“It was under my control that the Cicada Project was truly completed. I built an all-pervasive network and a cicada that could predict the future.”

As he spoke, he looked up at Roberts in front of him and said calmly.

“Mr. Roberts, I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering why I’ve fallen to this state when I possess such power… right?”

Although it was a question, his voice was unusually certain, without any doubt. Roberts felt as if his gaze could see right through her, making her extremely uncomfortable, but she still had to nod.

A mocking smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"The monkey's foolish opinion."

As he was speaking, suddenly, a TV in the living room turned on automatically and played a news report. It showed a pot-bellied, balding middle-aged man holding a press conference.

"Jamble Brown, a manufacturing tycoon, is not listed on the world's richest list, but his actual hidden assets exceed $200 billion, and his products are sold all over the world."

Speaking casually, the thin young man made it sound as if he were talking about what to eat today.

“Mr. Roberts, how about we make a bet? We’ll bet on whether he’ll go bankrupt in a minute.”

"I don't understand you."

Mr. Roberts frowned, but behind him, the thoughtful and perceptive Wendy seemed to have realized something, and her face suddenly showed disbelief and astonishment.

"It seems that Ms. Wendy is much smarter than you... Well, after all, she is the Secret Order's secret weapon."

The smiles on the young people's faces became increasingly unrestrained.

Before the audience could even process the concept of the Hermitage's...secret weapon, the television suddenly went black and an emergency news report popped up, featuring the very familiar female anchor with a serious expression.

"We have an urgent news briefing... Just two minutes ago, a violent explosion occurred in... due to the presence of radioactive material... We are currently actively trying to contact Mr. Jamble Brown."

"Two minutes ago, a worker was working diligently on the assembly line when his cell phone suddenly rang in his pocket. He instinctively tried to hang up, as factory rules prohibited phone calls. However, he forgot that his phone was old and occasionally leaked electricity. When he touched it, the current sent a jolt through his hand, and the phone flew out and got caught in the machine… This in itself wouldn't have been a problem, but the machine, being susceptible to damage from metal, was destroyed by the abnormal discharge… The falling machine hit the worker, who, in a panic, tried to find help, accidentally tripping over a power cord, causing a massive power outage in the entire workshop… This in itself wouldn't have been a problem, but it triggered a disruption in the electrical system, causing several other workshops to lose power simultaneously. Normally, this would be a minor incident, at most resulting in minor injuries or fractures for some workers. But coincidentally, a special operation was underway in another workshop, and the sudden power outage triggered an explosion. Ultimately, the large quantity of flammable materials stored there caused an unprecedented explosion. And this factory was located near a nuclear power plant… Of course, this manufacturing giant won't go bankrupt for now, but the hundreds of thousands of citizens suffering from radiation sickness won't let it go…"

As he spoke, the young man revealed a half-smile.

“Mr. Roberts, have you heard that funny fable? For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lame; for want of a horse, the king died; for want of a king, the battle was lost; for want of a battle, the kingdom was lost.”

“I don’t need wealth or power, because these things are meaningless to me. I can achieve any goal if I want to. The position of President of the United States is nothing more than the position of the Monkey King to me. I stand at the top of the world and can easily control the entire world without making any move. The world is just a plaything in my hands. This is why I consider myself the nameless world ruler.”

"This is my power, the power of the cicada."

For some reason, he burst into laughter, a laugh so unrestrained and arrogant, yet carrying something inexplicable... Roberts understood what that emotion was; it was fear, and he was using laughter to drive away the apprehension and dread in his heart.

"But why am I, who possesses this power, forced to hide in XZ?

The young man's pupils turned unusually dark.

"Because I am facing something beyond the world... a god."

(End of this chapter)