Chapter 245

The silence was broken.

Almost at the same instant her words ended, figures rose simultaneously from different sides of the circular auditorium, movements synchronized as if rehearsed.

They did not shout or wave their arms excitedly; they simply calmly activated the request-to-speak lights before them or spoke directly through the microphones on their seats.

“My brother!” a hoarse, agonized voice suddenly erupted from behind the media section, from a man with bloodshot eyes, “He died at the hands of those scum in the Divine Punishment Organization! They sacrificed him!”

He glared at Yang Yi, tears streaming down his face, “Now I’ve seen the video… I can’t sleep! I keep thinking—when my brother’s life force was drained… was it… was it just like those alien creatures… flying straight to you?! Tell me! Was his life also turned into your ‘energy’?!”

This furious accusation was like a spark thrown into a barrel of oil—the entire hall erupted into a low, buzzing roar.

Before Yang Yi could respond, Lagren Apton, an S-class plant-type Awakened from the Nordic delegation, stood up.

He adjusted his glasses, his voice calm: “Chief Yang Yi’s counterquestion is powerful. But allow me to propose another possibility—perhaps you are engaged in a… long-term, more efficient form of ‘breeding’.”

He met Yang Yi’s heavy gaze without flinching, his tone still even: “A shepherd does not slaughter all his sheep at once. He protects the flock from other predators, even seeks out richer pastures to encourage their reproduction.

“Because his goal is to obtain steady, continuous wool, milk, or, at some future moment, more lamb meat. You promote extraterrestrial colonization, care about civilizational survival—could you be building… a larger, broader ‘pasture’? Like the pasture in the video, cultivating a stronger, more vital ‘flock’?”

He did not deny the validity of her question; he directly twisted her motive.

Finding this absurd, Yang Yi couldn’t help laughing.

Upon hearing Lagren Apton’s words, the hall erupted in uproar—fear and terror spread like an infectious disease throughout the entire auditorium.

Representatives near Yang Yi involuntarily leaned back, as if distance could shield them from her.

At that moment, Ram Edith, a white-haired female physicist representing the International Scientific Organization, stood up without waiting for others to react, her tone professional:

“From a purely physical standpoint, Ms. Yang Yi. Based on our analysis of spatial distortions left by the SSS-class disaster, the minimum energy threshold required to forcibly close such a large, unstable higher-dimensional rift is conservatively estimated to be over three thousand times your maximum output as a standard S+ level Awakened.”

She paused, “Where did this massive energy deficit come from? Your report’s mention of an ‘otherworldly altar’ activation lacks verifiable physical evidence. The only explanation consistent with the energy source matches the video precisely—large-scale energy ‘supplementation,’ or rather… ‘life-source extraction’ from external lifeforms.”

This speech was too academic; the audience struggled to process these technically dense objective challenges.

Before anyone could think, a scholar from a philosophical institute in Akka, Hicks Colby, stood to ask: “Ms. Yang Yi, you mentioned being ‘contaminated’ and under ‘steady-state control’—a very delicate state. How can we be certain your perceived ‘control’ is not merely an illusion planted by the ‘contaminant’ to make you serve it more effectively?

“Like a parasitic wasp controlling a caterpillar’s behavior—the caterpillar dies believing it acts of its own will. How do you prove that the person speaking here now is ‘Yang Yi,’ and not… something else wearing her personality and memories as a disguise? Are your actions truly for humanity’s future—or for some purpose we do not yet know?”

The moment Hicks Colby finished speaking, a hurricane swept through the entire hall.

He did not deny Yang Yi’s efforts to save humanity—he directly denied her “self-awareness” and “existence.”

A philosophical paradox of “self-recognition” cannot be self-proven…

Yang Yi’s expression returned to calm, but her eyes revealed a glimmer of insight and exhaustion.

She had realized these consecutive questions were orchestrated—these people were merely puppets drawing attention; the true mastermind behind them did not seek to prove she was a demon god, but to incite humanity’s hatred… even betrayal toward her.

Even if she were proven a demon god, what would change? Only a shift from anxiety over a demon god’s impending arrival… to terror over one already here.

All his efforts, all his schemes, were aimed solely at her—to push her down this path of no return!

Then, a representative from Guyana in South America, Tannison Rodney, added a more vicious speculation in a shrill voice:

“The Divine Punishment Organization! Who are they really sacrificing to? Whom do they truly serve?! We always assumed they were an independent cult, Ved’s puppets—but what if… they are in fact your ‘white gloves’? Your deliberately constructed scapegoat, designed to draw hatred and fire?!”

“Precisely because such ‘irredeemably evil’ enemies exist, you—the ‘human god’ who fights them relentlessly—remain forever on the moral high ground, clean and pure as you implement all your plans? Including… selecting who qualifies as a ‘seed’!”

Questions kept coming, relentless and overwhelming.

The UN Secretary-General had to bang his gavel, trying to restore order—but to little effect.

In the China delegation’s seats, Director Zhou and Feng Liancheng realized this was a planned, coordinated assault on Yang Yi.

Director Zhou leapt to his feet, voice hoarse but firm: “This is baseless conspiracy theory! We reject these unfounded accusations!”

His words were brutally cut off by the Secretary-General’s gavel.

“Representative Zhou, does your statement represent China’s official position? Will China guarantee Yang Yi’s conduct under the nation’s name?” Wilde’s tone was formulaic, but his eyes darted swiftly toward the Akka delegation.

Director Zhou froze, opened his mouth, then slumped back into his seat, fists clenched tightly.

Feng Liancheng reached for the microphone on the table, but the Chinese UN representative held him back.

Yang Yi’s gaze swept over the China delegation—her faint warmth slowly froze into ice.

In the Free Awakened Observer Group, a young Awakened, Roskin Quint, suddenly stood up, his face twisted with a mix of fear and fanaticism, shouting loudly:

“He’s right! She isn’t a demon god!” He pointed at Yang Yi, his finger trembling, “Because the true demon god… is still asleep! Ved said so in that interrupted transmission! Everything they’ve done was to awaken the slumbering sovereign! And you—” his gaze locked onto Yang Yi’s face as if witnessing some horrifying truth, “You are that still-incomplete ‘It’! A naive, even unaware… infant demon god!”

These words were a spark—immediately igniting the entire hall.

Lagren Apton, the S-class plant-type Awakened, suddenly leapt up, his gaze fixed on Yang Yi with the terror of someone who had seen everything: “Even further—you may not even realize you are the demon god! On the level of your ‘Yang Yi’ consciousness, you believe you fight for humanity.

“But deep within your own unknown essence, the demon god’s instinct is driving you—promoting civilization, expanding population, elevating humanity’s overall energy tier… just as a farmer labors tirelessly for autumn’s harvest! You are the farmer, unknowingly cultivating the most bountiful meal for yourself!”

This chain of questions and accusations followed one after another.

From behavioral logic to physical evidence, from self-awareness to moral stance, finally reaching the core of existence—you might not only be a demon god, you might be an unaware one, driven by your own instincts.

Every one of your “good deeds” is preparation for the final “evil outcome.”

Below the stage, whispers had long vanished—replaced by a full-blown explosion: unrestrained murmurs, gasps, furious growls, and terrified hisses surged from the crowd.

Representatives could no longer maintain their composure; the media section’s flashbulbs flashed wildly, capturing every micro-expression on Yang Yi’s face.

Yang Yi stood frozen, as if stripped of all defenses, naked upon an icy plain.

She had no intention of defending herself.

Any defense against these layered, interlocking traps felt feeble, even… like confirmation of their suspicions.

If she tried to explain rationally, she would fall into the accusation of “pretense.” If she emphasized her motives, she would sink into the “breeder’s” sophistry.

Under countless eyes, she grew momentarily dazed.

The notions of “unawareness,” “instinct-driven,” “slumbering infant”—they slithered like icy snakes into her deepest core, gnawing at shadows she dared not face herself.

The trembling satisfaction when her power grew…

The craving for greater efficiency, greater control…

The occasional cold disdain for human noise that flickered through her mind…

And the “seeds” she had unconsciously left behind while drawing life-source from alien beings…

Could it be…

The suppressed power beneath her inhibitor began to churn uncontrollably—as if stirred by their words, as if raging in protest.

The metal device on her chest burned hot, sending jagged blue-white arcs surging across its surface, coiling like venomous snakes around her neck and limbs.

She groaned, sinking to one knee.

Not from the inhibitor’s stimulation—but because the long-suppressed “hunger” within her had suddenly been triggered, erupting without restraint.

Suddenly, the detection lights on the hall’s ceiling shifted from white to red, and a shrill alarm tore through the air.

“Warning! Abnormal dark matter energy fluctuations detected! Source—central podium!”

Countless high-power dark matter rifles activated automatically, locking onto Yang Yi, poised to fire.

Thousands of interwoven red lasers flared around Yang Yi, encasing the entire central podium in a layered web.

“Activate Level-One Suppression Field!” the Secretary-General screamed in panic.

The suppressor on Yang Yi’s chest suddenly grew searing hot; several blue-white arcs surged from its surface, coiling like venomous snakes around her neck and limbs.

She grunted, dropping to one knee.

It wasn’t due to the suppressor’s stimulation—but because the hunger craving she had long suppressed had suddenly been triggered and erupted.