People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

Perhaps it was because my own emotions also fluctuated.

He wasn't as open-minded as the Terrans, who seemed to take life and death lightly. Knowing that Horhyah didn't have many years left to live, his attitude towards her changed somewhat.

She wasn't used to being asked to do things as often anymore, and she chose to handle the tasks herself, even though her secretary could do them.

It's like they're doing hospice care; it's a bit unfair to the salary they're paying.

Holhaya probably realized this as well, which is why she didn't want to look at her that way.

Ernst sighed slightly.

It's easier said than done. After all, they are founding members who have been with us day and night, and we see each other all the time. It would be a lie to say that we have no feelings for them or that we are so willing to part with them.

Now that things have come to this, we can only take it one step at a time. First, we'll go to Columbia to find the Tin Man and find out the specifics of Horhyah's condition. Then, we'll ask Kal'tsit and Saria to see if there's any possibility of a cure through conventional methods.

If conventional methods don't work, then ask the Sarkaz for help and try unconventional methods.

If all else fails, even if we have to ask the great god Jeragund for help, we must ensure that she lives to see the morning sun at the age of 43!

No matter what, we must save Horhaya.

I need to take a break and work out the outline.

The Columbia arc is about to begin. I'm not really going to skip the President arc, although I did skip it again today, but it really wasn't intentional.

This article is extensive and important, so I'm taking a break to outline it.

Saving Private Horheimer, the Führer, the Preservator, Ernst's background, some content about Lap—there's a lot to write, I need to plan it out properly.

So please allow me to take a break and sort out my thoughts to ensure a better reading experience in the next chapter!

Thank you again to all the readers who have supported us this far!

Chapter 615 The Preservator: Bring him here, I'll open the door for you.

April 4, 1095 in the Terran calendar. Half a month after the official conclusion of the International Summit.

Christen returned to the gate once again.

The mysterious fortress still stands majestically, its presence untouched by decay even deep underground. It is indestructible; no tool made with modern Terran technology can open its gates, and no Originium Arts, swords, or cannons can breach its defenses. Kristen even attempted the so-called "blood oath" learned from the Eastern mythology of Yan, drawing a vial of her own blood and sprinkling it upon the gate, but it remained unmoved.

Having exhausted all conventional and unconventional methods, Christensen's only gain was 4☆贰]肆潵. "Five Hedgehogs 4% off proxy purchase: No gain whatsoever."

No, that's not quite right either.

At least, based on a small maneuver she made in Sherag's Star-Picking Project, she successfully confirmed one thing.

"It's not that this door can't be opened from this side, it's just that you don't want me to open it, right?"

Christen raised her head, gazing at the fortress gate that almost filled her entire field of vision, and earnestly addressed the camera that seemed to be somewhere out of nowhere:

"You were spying on me, weren't you?"

There was no response from the door, and the passageway was silent, making Christensen, who was wearing a hard hat, look somewhat embarrassed.

But the explorer showed no discomfort whatsoever. She simply sat down on a nearby mound of earth, calmly gazing towards the gate, and slowly began to speak:

“I sensed your presence. It was Mariam, whom you don’t know. She sent me a message telling me that when Project Starstrike broke through the isolation layer, the monitoring equipment left by the research team near Trimont intercepted a mysterious signal with a special frequency.”

"I was initially quite puzzled. Although long-distance international communication is considered impossible due to natural disasters and the interference of high concentrations of Originium on signals, just take Trimont City as an example. It has the most advanced, fastest, and most diverse intercity network signals in all of Terra. To be honest, it's not easy to sift out a segment of 'unknown signal with a special frequency band' from among them."

"How can you tell that it's not some unusual noise? How can you be sure that the signal contains something interesting? And how can you verify that among so many signals, only this one appears in response to the exploration of the isolation layer, and that it's not just a beautiful coincidence?"

“I asked Mariam this question, and I think her answer was very fair.”

A hint of disdain flashed in Christensen's eyes, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of her lips.

She said: "Because the sender wants to get attention. What do you think of this answer?"

The door remained silent; silence was the greatest contempt, a silent mockery of Christensen's speech, a condescending and extreme disregard.

Jiu, what's the point if you're right or wrong?

Whether I want to be noticed or not, what difference does it make?

A door is designed to be opened by someone. But whether this door can be opened from this side, and whether it should be opened by you, are things that the designer must consider.

The person who designs the treasure gate is like this: those who want to open the gate only need to keep trying various methods, racking their brains and exhausting their energy, but the person who designs the gate has to consider many more things.

However, even so, even in the face of such arrogant mockery, Christensen showed no sign of losing faith.

Her thirst for knowledge and curiosity were too strong. Even though Ernst once told her, "Behind the high walls and fortresses, there may not be treasure, but vicious criminals," she was not intimidated in the slightest.

She didn't care what was behind her; she just wanted to open the door.

She is the world's best aerospace engineer, the best materials scientist, and the best high-energy physicist. Now, she wants to be the world's best locksmith!

Therefore, she continued without caring at all:

“It’s okay if you don’t answer. I doubted the answer at first too. Sending signals, wanting to be noticed, but then turning me away after I arrived, the reason is simple—it’s just that I’m not the person you’re waiting for.”

"But honestly, don't you want a collaborator?"

"You don't know who the person you're looking for is, where they are now, or even if they have the equipment to receive your signal. That's why you're sending out a signal that's so basic to you, yet it just happens to stand out from all the noise and ordinary signals, right?"

This conjecture was not unfounded; it was a conclusion reached after careful consideration following Christen's first visit to this place, where she saw this magnificent underground fortress and was convinced that no modern means could breach it.

That being said, the process of arriving at this conclusion is actually not complicated.

A very simple principle—would a civilization capable of creating materials far beyond the Terrans' imagination and forging them into fortresses buried deep underground emit signals that could be easily intercepted by the Terrans?

The development of civilization, or rather, technology, is like a tree. Advances in the trunk will give rise to many branches. Just like the application of Originium in the Crystallization Era, which led to the diverse Originium electricity, Originium materials, spellcasting units, and so on.

Admittedly, a tree can grow crooked. Take Terra, for example. Materials science has reached an astonishing level, capable of building behemoths like mobile cities, but only recently has it developed its first reliable large near-ground aircraft—previous ones were all small with very limited capacity.

But the underground fortress, through its own actions, negated the possibility that the civilization it inhabited might go astray.

"The ability to simultaneously monitor the contact of a machine the size of a human head with the isolation layer across a distance of thousands of miles, from Trimont in Colombia to the research station atop the Kjeragmathon dome, is enough to demonstrate your strength in this field."

"So this creates a paradox. You could have perfectly concealed yourself, and the signals you emitted should have been able to bypass all existing Terran technology monitoring, but you allowed us to intercept them and lead me here."

Christen smiled and said,

"Aren't you looking forward to a collaborator?"

The door remained silent.

The Preservator—Trevor Friston—listened quietly to the voice of the blond demi-human.

He could understand it; deciphering such a language was not difficult for him. Within minutes of waking, the Prophet had mastered Sarkaz, a language few on Terra knew, and was able to communicate with Theresa. Trevor Friston, now a half-AI, was naturally more capable than the Prophet.

But he did not accept Christensen's invitation.

He is still thinking.

The Lesser Abominations before the Stasis Institute were very intelligent. Indeed, as she said, Trevor Friston, relying on the Stasis Institute, was able to send out messages that were completely undetectable by the existing civilizations on this planet.

This is not difficult; it's the same thing he's been doing for the past 30,000 years.

It was precisely because of his experience of sending signals into the universe for 30,000 years in hopes of receiving a response from civilization, but to no avail, that Trevor Friston continuously lowered the threshold for receiving signals.

After the observer's gaze swept across the land, civilization may have already withered away. When the "treasure" discovered by the prophet and the priestess ultimately failed to salvage the situation, he certainly shouldn't expect any decent civilization to exist in the universe today.

Even so, he still held onto a sliver of hope.

If civilization hasn't completely perished, perhaps they still have a quantum computer? Or a regular computer? At the very least, a telegraph machine?

If he keeps lowering the bar, maybe one day he will be able to contact the humans who are lost in the universe.

As it turned out, he did receive a visitor, but the visitor was not quite what he had imagined.

"It's hard to understand why they look like that."

Trevor Friston, now middle-aged, with a wife and daughter and a happy life, looked at the demi-humans in front of the Stasis Center and felt as if he had fallen victim to the uncanny valley effect.

This is one of the reasons why he refused to answer and refused to open the door.

Since the visitor was not human, the Stasis Center—this fortress that preserves human hope—could not be opened to her.

Yes, there are no longer any living humans in the stasis chamber. Including himself.

But at the very least, don't let those already twisted frozen meats be perceived by others as "what humans originally looked like."

Humans are glorious, splendid, and beautiful, Trevor Friston had to admit, and her daughter, if she could grow up and had ears and a tail, might look eight parts like Christensen.

That is the real human fault~肆夿陑四、散僘邻悟腫�HuaNqUn：。

But Christensen was clearly not satisfied with this silence.

If martial arts weren't so ineffective, she wouldn't want to come to these literary pursuits either.

Speaking in a literary style is not her forte. When it comes to negotiation, exchanging benefits, and achieving goals, it's better to let Ernst handle it than to let her. Ernst is the best at those things.

Damn it, why won't he come to heaven with me? Isn't it more interesting to travel through the stars than to be imprisoned on the ground and deal with those high-ranking officials and nobles?

She had already been rejected and was prepared not to include him in her activities.

I never expected that in the end I would still have to rely on him.

Having failed in both literary and martial arts, Christensen had no choice but to resort to her last trump card.

She opened her mouth, mimicking Ernst, and began to negotiate:

"I will show my sincerity."

"As you probably know, the Terrans are still unable to break through the isolation barrier through normal means, but we have still completed the initial exploration outside the isolation barrier."

She paused, then emphasized,

"twice!"

“I am the person in charge of this expedition—Kristen Wright, and I also know the person who initiated this expedition. His name is Ernst Shivaish.”

"I know your arrogance won't make a difference to these two names. But you'll soon have them etched into your mind!"

How arrogant.

Trevor Friston remained expressionless.

He didn't think there was anything special about those two names, nor did he think that the Terra civilization, which couldn't even break through the walls of the Stasis Zone or penetrate the isolation layer, had anything to do with being fully remembered by him.

He only cares about humans.

But as Christensen said, he changed his mind the next second.

Because the blonde demi-human who looked very much like his daughter revealed a shocking truth. (Daily update novel, group: [redacted])

"Ernst has a recording taken from outside the isolation layer."

""

"If you agree to open the door, I will bring him to see you."

""

"I'll only give you five seconds to think."

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Okay, I'll give you five more seconds, a minute should be enough!"

Christensen was a little angry.

He could sense that someone was watching him; golden retrievers are very perceptive!

Revealing Ernst to that unseen observer was the limit of what she could do; he was a treasure that should have been hers alone. She had originally planned to leave him in Terra, and when she flew to space, she would leave Rhine Lab with him to look after things!

This can be considered as giving Saria and the others an explanation.

But now, she has shared her most treasured secrets, even revealing confidential recordings, yet the spy still won't buy it. Does she really think she has no temper at all?

Christensen snorted, stood up, dusted off his backside, twirled his helmet like a Pokémon Master, and turned to leave.

Fine, I won't open the door! I'll find another way! Do you really think I'm begging you to open it?

You have to rely on yourself; negotiation won't work!

She took five steps.

Finally, a slightly mechanical, elderly male voice came from behind.

Fluent Victorian with a Colombian accent:

"Bring him here, I'll open the door for you."

Chapter 616 Vice President: A Daily Tip on Resigning

Shelag, Tukarim.

Ernst is making final preparations before departure.