Steel torrents pioneering a different world.

Chapter 250 Father, I am guilty! The dwarf's honesty and blood donation! Magical fluctuations! (Please subscribe)

The distant Federal Information Building, the Intelligence Analysis Center.

The sun was high in the sky in the east, but it was still the dead of night here.

The soft hum of cooling fans from various office computers and printers, the footsteps of people coming and going, and the ringing of telephones—mixed with the bitter smell of instant coffee—form the unchanging atmosphere here.

In the past two days, the East has suddenly released a series of interconnected technological achievements, triggering a chain of lamentations in the intelligence community.

Overtime, painful overtime!

The people responsible for analyzing intelligence, like the pizza shop employees nearby who were overwhelmed with orders, worked around the clock for a long time.

Everyone is exhausted!

But their furious superiors and performance bonuses forced them to work hard.

Even if you don't work hard, you should at least pretend to be working hard.

For example, making a fuss in the stock market or certain fields, and then getting appropriate compensation.

Anyway, how much money can you make working overtime?

Inside an office, Peter, who had just been promoted, was leaning back in a $1 ergonomic chair, supposedly made by the local Eagles, and rubbing his sore neck.

He was promoted not long ago.

Although I'm much happier after the promotion, the workload is still quite heavy!

He was not only assigned a private office with a view of the stars, but also took charge of some highly confidential matters in Asia.

To outsiders, this would undoubtedly be seen as a meteoric rise to power.

Only he himself knew what he was standing on beneath those high clouds.

A figure flashed through his mind: Jason's son—well—anyway, a descendant.

Thinking about the other person's long hair, and the expression on their face when they looked at me—

"I need to confess," Peter said wearily, taking off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why must my faith be tested like this?"

Just because that child was the apple of her boss's eye, she gained the boss's favor in exchange for his signature at a crucial moment.

A deal that shook his faith, yet proved highly effective, was made.

ding dong~

My phone screen suddenly lit up; it was a message from my newlywed wife, saying she had to work overtime tonight.

Peter felt a sense of relief.

Although his health was not good, his wife's anger made him even more terrified!

Now he can legitimately go to church for a while before going home, instead of racking his brains to figure out how to hide his fatigue and guilt.

He hasn't gone to church to pray in a long time!

Boom, boom, boom.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Come in."

A young subordinate strode in and placed a document on the table.

Peter saw anger in the other person's eyes.

"Sir, the latest data on our neighbors!"

Peter placed his phone face down on the table, not letting the light from the screen reveal even a trace of his private emotions.

"Understood. Keep following up. The activity funds will be approved for you later."

"Thank you, sir!"

The subordinate turned and left, his footsteps creaking on the floor.

Peter picked up the thin document, opened the first page, and his gaze froze instantly.

That's news that the East and their aircraft made close approach!

"Madmen—" Peter muttered, his Adam's apple bobbing. "They're getting more and more aggressive!"

These Asians are so curvy!

In military, technological, and other fields.

Shit—they're like lunatics crawled out of hell, doing something more and more unexpected each time.

However, it is a new technology that can seriously affect the situation between the two sides.

Peter was troubled and frustrated because he knew how powerful his opponent was!

Looking at these messages, he couldn't help but think of Sakura.

That was the tool they used most effectively after defeating the enemy—a dog kept at the entrance of the Dongfang family's home, specifically used to provoke the enemy's nerves.

With the help of this dog that was familiar with the East, they made a fortune and lived a comfortable and pleasant life.

But now, this dog seems to be losing its effectiveness.

No, it's not just that the dog isn't working anymore; the whole old method is starting to fail.

The sun sets in the west and rises in the east.

This word is now frequently mentioned at Peter's office gatherings and in conversations among his colleagues.

Every time these words are said, it makes everyone feel bad.

Times have changed!

However, too many people's perceptions are still stuck in the last century, and their deeply ingrained ideas still lead them to believe that they are the beacon of the world.

Perhaps they need a devastating defeat to pry open their minds, which are as hard as rotten steel.

As one of the only superpowers in recent decades, this feeling is very unpleasant.

I'm very unhappy.

"At this crucial juncture, when even more important information exchange is about to take place, to engage in this kind of coordinated psychological pressure—do they really have that many cards to play?"

Peter tapped his fingers unconsciously on the table.

They know this trick well!

Unfortunately, this thing isn't very effective against opponents of equal strength!

Now, their neighbor, thousands of miles away, is too adept at their tactics, and they are dealing with them with increasing ease. In fact, the cards they play are so powerful that they feel like their bones are about to break.

They are truly neighbors thousands of miles away, and they have the power and ability to say no to them!

"They are very strong. What should we do in the future? Continue to engage in petty actions at sea?"

The moment the thought crossed Peter's mind, an unpleasant memory automatically surfaced.

Peter's lips curled into an ugly smile.

Nothing is more painful than watching your power slip away bit by bit, and not only being powerless to stop it, but also having to personally cover up these failures.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and quickly integrated the information on the document with his own analysis into a concise text, which he then encrypted and sent to his superior, Jensen.

The phone started vibrating violently less than ten seconds after the message was sent.

It was Jason calling back!

Peter composed himself before answering the phone.

As soon as the call connected, a burst of static came through!

Peter instinctively moved his phone a little further away.

"Mr. Jensen, as I just said, it's very bad." He spoke succinctly, his voice low and steady. "I think the situation is serious and could trigger a chain reaction."

"Phew—yes, I just took a quick look. What do you think?"

Jason's voice was a little hoarse. He seemed to have caught a cold!

"It's like this—" Peter began his report, quickly organizing the key information from the documents with his own analysis.

Halfway through the report, there was some background noise over there!

Peter, however, reported the situation with a normal expression.

"—That's the situation, sir." Peter snapped out of his thoughts and added in a deep voice, "If we continue to let them do this, I'm worried that our adopted son might develop a real talent for sneak attacks, which would drag us into a quagmire!"

"Don't worry, everything is under control."

"We can't let such a brainless person hold power! Right now, he's acting like an Eastern version of Empress Dowager Cixi—so emotional! It's unbelievable!"

"Please organize the information and send it to my personal email address so they can review it themselves!"

"clear."

"That's all, I'm busy here now."

The call was abruptly ended.

The office fell into a deathly silence instantly.

Peter clutched his phone, feeling like a clown once again.

He was worried about the eagles here, while the person on the other end of the phone was enjoying some kind of "high-intensity" nightlife.

Although the other party already knew what these guys were like.

But with some ideals and ambitions still remaining in his heart, he truly wanted to change the world at that moment.

However, reason ultimately prevailed over his ideals.

Following Jason's instructions, he first sent a desensitized briefing to the official email address of his colleague in charge of business negotiations.

It's 11:30 p.m., and the email has disappeared without a trace; unsurprisingly, there has been no reply.

He then opened an unsecured private communication software and sent a rough report, along with his analysis and warnings, to the private email address that Jason had given him.

This time, he specifically added several internally used high-quality labels.

The reply came in less than thirty seconds.

There were no words, just a fist emoji followed by a star-spangled flag.

Upon seeing this reply, Peter's tense nerves relaxed.

He let out a long breath, leaned back in his chair, and let out a groan of exhaustion.

Those guys are back to using civilian email addresses for work!

However, the task assigned by the superiors was accomplished.

As for whether those high-ranking negotiators will read it, and what they will do if they do, that's beyond his control.

He was merely a messenger, a tiny crew member desperately ringing the alarm bells on a ship about to capsize.

He sent a message to his subordinates, instructing them to continue monitoring the signal and report any abnormalities immediately.

After doing all this, Peter felt a profound exhaustion, as if his soul had been drained.

He swiped his phone screen, opened the map app, and began searching for nearby churches.

He hadn't prayed in a long time.

Because he had been working overtime for so long, he hadn't even spent time at the nearby church!

Tonight, he desperately needs a place, a place where he can sit quietly before God for a while.

On the map, a green cross is flashing in the distance, with a line of small text clearly visible below it.

"The Basilica of Saint-Michel is open to you 24 hours a day."

Peter drove away!

The night breeze blew in through the car window, carrying the unique coolness of the early morning.

Peter parked his car in the shadows across the street from the Basilica of Saint-Michel and looked up at the Gothic building that stood silently in the night.

The pointed spire pierces the night sky, like a warm finger pointing to heaven.

Will God forgive me?

With that thought in mind, Peter went into the church!

The church interior was spacious and magnificent, with a soaring dome and dim lighting, save for a few rows of eternal candles flickering in the distance, casting dappled shadows. The air was filled with the mingled scents of old wood, cold stone, and faint incense, creating a solemn and dignified atmosphere.

A young pastor was sitting on a bench in the front row, looking down at his phone by the dim candlelight. The light from the screen made his face look somewhat pale.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his eyes showing a hint of weariness at being disturbed in the middle of the night.

Peter stepped forward, said nothing, and simply pulled a Franklin bill from his wallet and handed it over.

The young pastor's eyes lit up instantly, his weariness vanished, and a professional, warm smile immediately appeared on his face.

He deftly took the banknotes, stuffed them into his pocket, and his movements were so fluid that it seemed he had rehearsed them a thousand times.

"The Lord will praise your generosity, my child. Do you need guidance?"

"I'd like to speak with your priest in the confessional," Peter said, his voice sounding somewhat hoarse in the empty cathedral.

"This way, please."

Soon, the church priest arrived opposite the confessional.

He hid in the darkness, adjusted his breathing, and made his voice sound more unfamiliar.

"Father, a friend of mine has committed a sin."

"God has mercy on all lost sheep, speak, child." The pastor's voice was steady and professional, conveying a sense of standard procedure.

Through a wooden window with cross-shaped cutouts, Peter could actually smell a faint perfume coming from the other side.

Seeing that the other person didn't intend to continue, Peter continued, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth: "It's—the sin of depravity. My friend, he's burdened with medical bills for his elderly parents and an expensive loan for his wedding renovations! To keep a decent job, he has to—has to be with—well, someone whose cognitive and physical characteristics are somewhat different—"

He spoke very vaguely and with great difficulty.

However, the priest across the wooden window, clearly well-informed, immediately grasped the key point, his tone even carrying a hint of gossipy curiosity: "So?"

Peter was taken aback by this overly straightforward summary and responded with a muffled "Yes."

----Um"

"Just for this?" The priest sounded somewhat disappointed.

"This is a betrayal of the family! Father!" Peter's voice rose slightly.

"Oh, child, calm down," the priest immediately reassured you. "This is a new era, and God's love is all-encompassing. The Lord won't send you to hell for such a trivial matter."

Peter felt a throbbing pain in his temples: "It wasn't me! It was my friend!"

"Yes, yes, he's your friend." The priest's tone was full of perfunctory indulgence. "So, how does your friend wish to be saved?"

"How would I know? You're the expert!"

"Could your friend resign? That would nip the possibility of moral decline in the bud."

"No!" Peter answered without hesitation. "His job is respectable! It's very important to many people."

""

"Then the only option is atonement." The priest's tone finally turned serious. "The church has many community services, such as cleaning the streets and distributing food to the homeless—"

"My friend doesn't have time! He's extremely, extremely busy!"

"Then you can hire someone else to help," the priest finally revealed his true intentions. "Or, you can donate directly to the church, and we will do these good deeds for your friend. In the Lord's eyes, intentions are equal."

".——"

Peter fell silent.

He pulled a thick wad of US dollars from his backpack, counted them, took three back from the wad, and stuffed the remaining seven or eight into the confessional slot.

"Father, my friend is very busy. I hope this money can help him atone for his sins!"

"What is your friend's name?"

"Peter."

With a "whoosh," the dozen or so hundred-yuan bills disappeared from the delivery slot.

The priest's voice became light and holy: "I will pray for Peter, and God will forgive Peter's sin of depravity! My child, your friend was not too deeply entrenched, and now that he has turned back from his wrong path, he can still catch the last train to heaven."

Peter, as if grasping at a straw, pulled out a few more bills from his wallet and stuffed them in.

"And now? After atoning for my sins, can I reserve a window seat?"

"Of course!" The priest's voice was filled with a loving tone tainted by money. "As long as you sincerely atone for your sins and save the Lord's people, a seat in Heaven will always be reserved for Mr. Peter!"

Having received this promise, Peter's nerves, which had been taut all night, finally relaxed completely. He let out a long sigh of relief, got up, and left the confessional.

Stepping out of the church, the cold night wind blew against his face, but instead of feeling cold, he felt a refreshing sensation he had never experienced before.

It turns out that even God's indulgences, like the sick leave note that Jason gave himself, are clearly priced.

The world, in the end, is still the same as it is.

He opened the car door and got in. Before starting the car, he suddenly remembered something, took out his phone, and sent a message to his subordinate.

"Check the accounts of Saint-Michel Cathedral and look at their donation history."

"?"

'

"I'm just curious!"

"Sir, this isn't our jurisdiction; it's the tax department's!"

"I think the church's money might be used to provide clues and information to people from the East; their funding is highly questionable." "Okay, I'll contact my colleagues and have them investigate!"

Another world.

Attila stopped wielding his hoe.

The crisp air was filled with the sweet, slightly fishy smell of freshly turned soil.

Not far away, a group of long-eared elf captives were tending to the furrows of the field, their movements exuding an innate elegance, even while doing farm work.

"Pah! All you do is pretend!"

Attila curled his lip.

He'd been imprisoned here for quite some time now. His interactions with these equally unfortunate elves had escalated from initial mockery, hostility, and curses to outright fights, and now—

They keep to themselves and occasionally exchange knowing glances when the human overseers aren't looking.

There was no way around it, because Attila and the elves discovered that while they were fighting, the humans were secretly recording their conversations with the elves, and he immediately realized the seriousness of the problem.

He took advantage of a group work opportunity to tell the long-eared people about it.

Since then, the elves have indeed become much more restrained in their interactions with the dwarves. Humans are gaining less and less information from their conversations!

And so, dwarves, elves, and other unfortunate humans from the Ice Age tribes who had been captured were brought here.

Well, Attila found out that those men were criminals who had disobeyed the law by attempting to rape other women, and were sentenced to imprisonment and rehabilitation.

In any case, the standard of living has dropped significantly.

And so, the three tribes became the first farmers on this land cultivated by humans, clearing the wasteland and planting crops.

Attila's lips twitched violently as he watched the human overseers drive vehicles and distribute wheat seeds stained with strange white powder.

To him, that pungent smell was no different from the failed poisons in the chainsmith's workshop.

"Plant wheat here? Ha."

He chuckled softly, in a voice only he could hear.

"These humans must have had their brains smashed by troll clubs! The sky is almost converging here, and they're trying to grow crops and expect a complete crop failure?"

The continent of God's Abandonment was already unstable, and the spatial fluctuations in recent decades have become increasingly intense.

It wasn't until the three-tailed comet two days ago that Attila confirmed the celestial conjunction had begun.

After a comet typically descents into the world, an unprecedented large-scale "celestial conjunction" is about to occur.

According to ancient records, the convergence of large celestial bodies signifies that the entire world's magical network will descend into chaos, countless ancient forbidden land seals may loosen, and even more terrifying is the impact of magical energy particles on the spacetime of this world, with extreme and unpredictable natural disasters being the most deadly.

It's possible that within a hundred miles to the east, it's as warm as spring, while a hundred miles to the west, it's a frozen wasteland.

In conclusion, the convergence of the heavens is a catastrophe that all living beings on the God-Forsaken Continent urgently need to deal with carefully.

If given a choice, those on the God-Abandoned Continent would definitely want to go to other continents with more stable time and space.

But they can't win.

This is the Forsaken Continent, a cursed land. The most powerful king in the Forsaken Continent is no match for the forces of other continents!

Each major celestial convergence brings a major reshuffling to this continent cursed by the gods.

Even without a large-scale celestial convergence leading to a conflict between civilizations from different worlds, there would still be numerous small, densely packed spacetime rifts that would appear during such a convergence.

At that time, not only will the crops in the fields be affected, but even within the territories that each race has worked so hard to defend, countless strange and wonderful creatures from other worlds may suddenly appear.

Knock knock knock————

A sharp whistle rang out at him.

Attila knew his time to slack off was over. He irritably tugged at the metal collar around his thick neck, the cold touch instantly sobering him up.

This thing isn't an ornament; it's a magical artifact used to bring dwarves to their senses.

When he was first captured, relying on the thick skin of dwarves, he stubbornly charged through the human prison while wearing the collar.

As it turned out, the seemingly frail human guard simply pressed a small gadget in his hand.

The next second, an indescribable pain and numbness instantly spread throughout my body.

He still remembers convulsing on the ground like a fish thrown ashore, his muscles spasming uncontrollably, foaming at the mouth, and even his beard emitting smoke.

What he found most unbearable was the undisguised laughter of the other human guards around him.

That feeling—

After enduring several attempts to resist without gaining any advantage other than becoming a laughingstock, Attila completely gave up the idea of ​​resorting to force.

He's just stubborn and proud, not really stupid!

Shouldering his hoe, he resignedly walked towards the field ridge. As he passed an elf, the elf's voice, as soft as the wind, drifted over and said, "Look, the ignorant cave-dwelling half-human is slacking off again."

Attila didn't turn his head, letting out a muffled groan: "Just wait. When their poisoned wheat rots in the ground and winter comes, they'll have to kneel and beg us to teach them how to grow mushrooms in caves and how to gather food from plant roots to fill their stomachs!"

"I hope so!" the elf said, then continued with his work.

They worked until the bell rang signaling the end of the workday.

Today's meal was quite good: fried ribbonfish caught from the sea, scrambled eggs with chili peppers, various vegetables, some fruit, and mutton stew, which Attila the dwarf particularly liked.

Although the amount of these items was small, mainly consisting of plenty of rice and other staple foods, and only one type of apple could be selected, it was enough to satisfy Attila and his men.

It's quite nice to receive such a sumptuous lunch just for working and following the rules while locked up in prison.

In reality, this is a preferential treatment for the pioneering team.

If this were a normal prison, they certainly wouldn't have such abundant food. However, the two races are special groups, and the pioneering team has acquired a large treasury, which has made them, who were originally short of funds, suddenly rich.

The pioneering team has always adhered to the principle of "making as few enemies as possible and as many friends as possible," and will not do anything extreme before a blood feud occurs!

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, Attila thought they would continue playing some fairly interesting magical videos, but Gong Pengfei came out again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, starting tomorrow, we will need to conduct routine blood draws! If you have blood, please sign up."

Upon hearing this, Attila felt an urge to spit at the other person.

But he held back.

Spitting in public places like the cafeteria and rest areas will result in being locked in a small dark room and having to clean up the mess.

He didn't care about being locked in a dark room. His resilience allowed him to endure it for half a day.

But cleaning—

That's incredibly difficult!

When Gong Pengfei said something else, and mentioned that he could get better treatment and things by cooperating with humans, Attila kept it in mind, but outwardly showed a disdainful expression.

In his view, these people who are hypocritical and hypocritical are nothing short of cowardice!

"Ladies and gentlemen, the animated series we're showing today is called 'A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality' —"

Gong Pengfei left the prisoners' multi-functional hall and then returned to the office area.

"How did these prisoners react when they heard they were about to have their blood drawn again?"

Previously, human scientists extracted blood from dwarf and elf captives for research, completely disregarding their opinions.

Later, they began to use various methods to get them to cooperate voluntarily.

For example, in conjunction with drawing blood for experiments, they could obtain better food, etc.

After a while, the other party tacitly accepted that humans have their blood drawn at fixed intervals.

Although some elves have privately told humans that blood contains enormous energy, humans have yet to fully understand it.

"Team leader, the physiological reactions and emotional fluctuations of the prisoners from both races today are much lower than last time!"

Gong Pengfei glanced at the data and nodded in satisfaction: "See, even these stubborn elves and dwarves understand our human rules!"

"We're about to have a major battle with the enemy's rear. What use are these modified prisoners? They won't be of much use even if we release them!"

"Taking things step by step will always be useful. The other ethnic group has too many internal problems. As long as we break the backbone of the two groups this time, we can at least gain some peace for a period of time. When we have a better understanding of their backup plans, that will be the time to completely destroy them, or to transform them into our fifty-seventh and fifty-eighth ethnic groups!"

Tang Huanzhu didn't say anything more in the end!

To date, the only information that humans have is that of the dwarves.

And the elves—

Once everything is ready, then we'll completely demolish the mountains and temples, and sweep away all obstacles!

Only a thorough, top-down purge of those races that use magical mind networks can put our minds at ease.

Well, those guys' behavior patterns and eccentricities are quite similar to some strange races in the modern world!

If the modifications still don't work—the zoo of otherworldly intelligent races awaits them.

Of course, that was the last resort, a cruel and ruthless measure.

No matter what, there's no reproductive barrier between humans and other species. If they could fuse their genes, perhaps humans could instantly gain thousands of years of lifespan.

In other words, the East, adhering to the principle of mutual benefit, recognized that this race at the grassroots level still had value for salvation; otherwise, they would have been eating mushrooms frequently long ago and had completely become the race described in the books!

Just as Gong Pengfei was having a headache, he suddenly heard a warning sound coming from the office area.

"What's wrong?"

"Team leader, our detection equipment has detected strange magical fluctuations near the prisoner-of-war area! For the safety of all researchers, please proceed to the safe house!"

"Well—everyone, hurry up!"

Gong Pengfei and his group of non-combatants quickly entered the safe house, while the soldiers who were already on duty nearby began to contact their respective units, ready to respond to any possible attack.

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