Chapter 309: Linglong Group (Requesting Monthly Votes!)

"I'm telling you, don't kill me! I'll tell you anything you want to know, please don't kill me!"

Lin Xian's aura instantly turned Tang Yun's face pale; she seemed to finally realize her predicament and hurriedly said: "It was… it was the organization called the Crimson World that brought us here. They said… they said this place allows access to digital-like life forms, and also protects us from the Dark's influence, letting us… safely and happily hide in the eternal night, waiting for the end of the world!!"

"You?" Lin Xian's gaze sharpened: "Besides you, who else?"

"My husband too!"

As she spoke, she suddenly remembered something, her eyes scanning the center of the hive, murmuring softly

"My husband… where's my husband…"

Tang Yun's mental state appeared extremely unstable, unable to control her emotions as she frantically searched—yet her survival instinct preserved a sliver of rationality, allowing her to still communicate.

Prolonged sleep had nearly destroyed her bodily coordination; she tried to stand but only struggled helplessly on the ground, her sense of direction severely impaired.

From her fragmented account, Lin Xian learned that Tang Yun had come here with her husband Wen Dong and several other collateral relatives from the Wen family, participating in this project as high-ranking members of the Crimson World, enjoying exceptional privileges.

They were introduced to the Crimson World's fungal network and Zero Element Project, and even personally underwent brief experimental exposure to hallucinogenic spores, experiencing the euphoria and wonder of entering the hallucinatory consciousness.

The goal of the Zero Element Project was to temporarily connect the brain to a specialized juvenile mycelium via survival pods and biological isolation devices, allowing consciousness to enter the fungal network while remaining protected from the Dark's corruption—maintaining euphoria and mental elevation. The entire Zero Element Center operated unmanned to ensure absolute secrecy and safety; the isolation devices would periodically sever the connection to prevent prolonged neural overload and uncontrollable fungal growth.

But the problem was, even nine hours of neural overload was unbearable for ordinary people—the survival pods' life support couldn't save them. People died in every cycle, a scenario the Crimson World had anticipated. As the Descenders put it, such deaths weren't true death—they were merely consciousness uploads. Even if the body perished, the mind could live eternally within the fungal network, and after the Dark passed, consciousness could be reverse-extracted via genetic cloning to achieve "rebirth" or even return to youth!

Thus, for these Crimson members, whether reborn after the disaster or living eternally as consciousness, it was the perfect escape from the apocalypse—explaining why nearly all the members lying here were over forty.

"They said the mycelium here is an extraordinarily unique life form, far superior to human life. If you connect your brain to the fungal network, you won't be affected by the Dark or attacked by the Strange Ones. That's why no staff are allowed here—to preserve 'purity' and create a safe environment… to coexist… with the fungal network," Tang Yun said, her face tense and fearful, her eyes darting between Lin Xian: "To… coexist peacefully."

"Coexist peacefully?" Lin Xian laughed outright: "Who actually believes this nonsense?"

Tang Yun pulled the blanket Luo Yang had given her tighter, sitting on the ground and whispering: "They prepared multiple contingencies. They said consciousness wouldn't fully detach—the AI would periodically cut off the fungal network so we could rest and survive. The second contingency was that even if we died, our consciousness would… enter the fungal network and live eternally, happily."

Her pupils dilated as she stared at the floor, a distant longing on her face: "We all tried it. Inside that consciousness, you could have anything—wealth, freedom, sex, power, delicious food, fragrances, tactile sensations… every beautiful feeling you could imagine. That joy wasn't the artificial stimulation of drugs or delusional fantasy—it was real, so real it felt like the true world…"

"But isn't that still just an illusion?" Kiki frowned: "You're still lying there, unchanged."

"No!"

Hearing Kiki's words, Tang Yun suddenly shouted: "It's different! They're right! If the essence of life is consciousness, then what's the difference between my sensations here in this body and those inside the fungal network? None! The joys and sorrows of a 60- or 80-year lifespan can be felt just as vividly within the network—you can live fully, endlessly. So why should we live in constant dread of the coming night?"

"Even if the entire world is destroyed, I'll live eternally in that consciousness. Others are truly dead. So tell me—who's alive, who's dead? Which side is real, which is illusion?"

"But you know it's just a hallucination created by your brain—none of it's real!" Luo Yang couldn't help responding.

"Is this world truly real?!" Tang Yun shot back instantly: "Buddhism says: 'In a grain of sand, a world; in a single leaf, enlightenment.' Our blue planet, our galaxy—perhaps they're just a single neuron in some cosmic being. Our entire lives might be nothing but fleeting neural signals, right?"

Tang Yun spoke faster and faster, her thoughts growing clearer; blood began seeping from her bloodshot eyes and black-red fluid poured from her nostrils, quickly staining the blanket before her.

Seeing Tang Yun's condition, Lin Xian felt a chill—he recalled the massive scientific upheaval years ago triggered by the ban on digital life, which sparked global philosophical debates.

Countless people held divergent views on the meaning of "alive." Supporters of digital life, like Tang Yun now, believed human existence was fundamentally consciousness, and the body merely a vessel. As long as consciousness persisted, replacing the body with a robot, terminal, or internet upload was essentially the same. Digital immortality advocates saw consciousness uploading as the ultimate form of life extension, even transcending biological limits.

But the key issue behind the ban was a philosophical paradox: it couldn't determine whether simulated digital consciousness possessed the same iterative capacity as human brain consciousness. Without that, it couldn't be considered true life—only AI, whose logic fundamentally contradicted human morality.

He'd assumed the Crimson World was merely a scam targeting wealthy elites in the apocalypse—but now he realized they'd built their own worldview by merging digital life theory with fungal network properties, and they believed in it utterly.

"No hope left," Kiki sighed, gazing helplessly at Lin Xian.

"Lin Xian, what should we do?"

"No… no…" Tang Yun's eyes were glazed; she struggled to rise from the ground, her limbs uncooperative from prolonged inactivity, muttering: "I have to go back—I have to go back! My son, my husband—they're still in there! I can't wake up!"

"You want to go back in?!" Lin Xian stared at the fungal fragments on her head, thinking: "Seventy percent of those inside are already dead. You're lucky to have survived without your brain being consumed. I wonder what technology the Crimson World used to prevent fungal invasion while still allowing neural connection—it's bizarre."

"Her condition is rare among them—she has strong mental resilience, so her body still maintains vitality," Ding Junyi said, approaching with a mobile terminal. "Others with weaker resistance, left with neural overload, couldn't survive long."

Lin Xian said: "So the Crimson World didn't tell them this."

"They did," Shu Qin replied, her expression complex: "Death means uploading consciousness—becoming eternal life."

"Wow." Luo Yang adjusted his glasses: "There's a perfectly self-contained logical system—these people are really impressive."

Kiki crossed her arms beside Lin Xian: "Of course—they're the ones who convinced the rich to join."

Hearing their conversation, Tang Yun's face filled with shock: "Impossible!" Suddenly remembering something, she lunged toward the glass wall: "My husband, my son—they're still in there!!"

"What are your husband and son's names?" Luo Yang asked.

Tang Yun immediately replied: "My husband is Wen Dong, my son is Wen Jiacheng—he's the same age as Wen Qi." She looked at Kiki.

"Found it… Wen Jiacheng, Pod 0912…"

Luo Yang, holding the mobile terminal connected to the surveillance center, frowned and whispered to Lin Xian and the others: "Vital signs indicate he's been dead for a long time."

"What?!" Tang Yun gasped: "No! Impossible! I saw him in there—I know he was alive!"

Tang Yun's words raised questions for Lin Xian. He turned to Ding Junyi: "Director Ding, could it be… the upload actually succeeded?"

"Yes! Yes! That's it! That's exactly it!" Tang Yun screamed hysterically.

Ding Junyi's expression remained impassive, her tone calm:

"The data I retrieved from the Zero Element Center doesn't confirm the fungal network has distributed cloud-like data transmission or storage properties. So I can't confirm it. Even if it did, logically it's implausible."

"Why?"

Ding Junyi said: "First, as a Dark species, we don't understand the biological logic of this Tian mushroom mycelium. Take the simplest example: the original digital life project used quantum computers to simulate neural networks, compressing consciousness into iteratable quantum bits. The underlying logic is quantum bits—0 or 1. Traditional computers use binary bits—0 and 1. But both are human-designed logical systems. If this fungal network truly replicates consciousness, its logic must be compatible with human neural operations. Do you understand?"

"Got it," Kiki said instantly: "It's like these alien organisms run a different 'operating system' than us."

"Precisely. But this is my logic—limited by my human identity and education. There may be higher life forms beyond my comprehension, so my logic isn't necessarily correct. But practically, another theory is possible: what she saw was a hallucination her brain simulated. We've experienced this before—you understand."

Lin Xian frowned slightly: "I think I get it."

At that moment, Luo Yang, still searching the terminal, spoke again: "Wait—there's no one else with the surname Wen besides Wen Jiacheng. Wen Dong's name doesn't appear anywhere."

"What?!"

In a surge of desperate energy, Tang Yun scrambled to her feet, snatched the terminal from Luo Yang, frantically scrolling through every entry—but found no trace of her husband.

Her face turned ashen; her movements slowed, then stopped. She collapsed to the ground, mind blank, whispering over and over: "Impossible…"

Kiki used her telekinesis to retrieve the terminal. Lin Xian took it, studying it—something clicked.

"It seems your husband didn't fully believe in this perfect immortality plan."

Tang Yun turned, trembling, to look at Lin Xian: "What… what are you implying?"

At once, the others understood Lin Xian's meaning.

One possibility: Wen Dong panicked and backed out at the last moment.

The other: Wen Dong deliberately sent his wife and son here—but why? That's the mystery.

Tang Yun wasn't foolish. Though her mind was foggy, she remembered everything since arriving. She recalled her husband's cold, detached demeanor—unlike her and others, who reacted with doubt, excitement, and fantasy upon learning of the immortality plan. Now, seeing his name absent from the pods, she finally understood.

Instantly, her panic vanished. She slumped to the ground, pale as death, uncaring that her private parts were exposed, her eyes filled with disbelief and despair.

Seeing this, Lin Xian sighed inwardly and turned to Kiki, whispering:

"She's someone you know. What do you want to do? Your call."

From Kiki's earlier words, this woman didn't seem evil. Now, reduced to a corpse feeding fungal growth, miraculously alive yet clinging to the dream of immortality—she was pitiful. If she were a stranger, Lin Xian might have just handed her off to a northbound convoy—life and death, fate. But since she was connected to Kiki's family, he wanted to know her opinion.

Kiki nodded, glancing at Lin Xian with a thoughtful look: "Saving her is easy. But aren't you curious why they came here—and what happened to the Wen family in Jinhai?"

Lin Xian's mind stirred—he'd been blind. Of course, Kiki always kept his interests in mind. In peaceful times, she'd be a once-in-a-thousand-years wife!

The brief interlude ended. Lin Xian had someone bring Tang Yun warm water and clothes. After resolving the situation, Luo Yang and the others left to patrol the tunnel, leaving only Lin Xian, Kiki, and a few others.

Tang Yun's condition was dire. She didn't take the offered clothes or water. Kiki watched her, took a deep breath, and walked over.

"Hey, we're still in the eternal night—danger could strike anytime. If you want us to save you, at least cooperate. Running around naked is embarrassing."

Her hair was matted, her face hollow, eyes dull, murmuring:

"What's the point of covering up? Men and women lying there all look the same…"

Then she lifted her head slowly, studying Kiki for a long moment, before speaking:

"We all thought you and your father were dead. Wen Qi, I can't help you—but I advise you: be careful of the Wen family…"

"I never even took the Wen surname—I'm Zhao!"

Tang Yun looked at the clothes and water before her, her expression shifting, then said:

"I know you have no feelings for the Wen family. But if you survived that plane crash… maybe it was fate."

Kiki frowned, wary: "What do you mean?"

Tang Yun took a deep breath: "I don't know much. But after you and your father's accident, your aunt's reactions… they seemed to have expected it."

Hearing this, Lin Xian stepped closer, intrigued:

"You mean your husband was set up?"

Tang Yun shook her head: "I can't confirm that. After the Apocalypse, Wen Qi's father seized absolute control of the family's fate. He leveraged construction and shipping assets, betting on both the Federation and Phoenix Society. Beyond the underground city project, he planned to give three 500, 00-ton grain cargo ships to Dawn City in exchange for the former Federation's 'Dragon Whale' deep-sea vessel and its entire escort fleet for maritime escape. He also partnered with Silent City to convert a 'Eternal-Class' apocalypse train at the Jinhai Rail Industrial Center for the family's land-based pursuit of Dawn Center."

"Whoa—underground, sea, and land train? He spread his eggs across so many baskets," Lin Xian marveled.

The Linglong Group truly seemed fate's favorite: after the Apocalypse, most Fortune 500 companies' assets turned to dust—money lost all meaning.

But some companies were different. For example, Xiang Xuwei of the Fing Group—being a tech conglomerate controlling transport, machinery, manufacturing, and energy, its assets became the ultimate prize in the apocalypse.

Linglong Group, however, specialized in construction and shipping. Construction was simple: they were surely among the contractors for the Federation's underground cities. Plus, they had armed security forces, giving them immense leverage in negotiations with the government.

Shipping was even more critical: a single cargo ship carried 500, 00 tons or more. As a top-ten global shipping company, Linglong owned over 410 vessels. In the chaos of the apocalypse, some of these ships were surely carrying grain or energy—both priceless. Kiki's adopted father had swiftly mobilized these resources before global collapse, rebellion, and mass death, trading them for political favors. In that alone, he showed remarkable decisiveness.

The "Dragon Whale" sounded implausible, but Lin Xian knew the Federation's (now Dawn City's) strategy focused on underground cities. Their naval vessels, stripped from the Interstellar Army, were useless—couldn't fly. 1. million tons of grain could feed 10 million people for 1. years—or two years at bare minimum. Trading useless ships for grain made perfect sense.

"I get it," Kiki perked up: "So your Wen family had three plans: an Eternal-Class train, the Dragon Whale chasing the Noah, and underground city slots—all divided into three directions?"

"Four," Lin Xian said, nodding toward Tang Yun: "She's here."

Tang Yun shook her head: "These plans were your father's. But after he died, your aunt Wen Hui took control. She immediately canceled all his plans and decided to donate all resources to Dawn City in exchange for… a seat in the Federation Congress. She believed this would keep the Wen family united and preserve their elite status in Dawn City…"

"What?!"

Lin Xian frowned: "So she's planning to burn the whole house down?"

"Oh my god!" Kiki jumped up, furious: "What an idiot! The apocalypse is here and she wants to be a congresswoman? I was actually excited about the Eternal train and Dragon Whale—so she just scrapped them all?"

"I don't know all the details," Tang Yun said. "I know the Eternal train was halfway modified… the rest…"

"So you suspect your husband and her father were set up?" Lin Xian asked.

Tang Yun shook her head: "No."

"I suspect this because I discovered my husband—and your aunt Wen Hui—had secretly contacted the Crimson World."

It might even happen... before the Day of Revelation!

(End of Chapter)