Chapter 4203: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (21)

"What do you mean?"

"Those strange clones."

"They are all quite peaceful," Schiller took out his phone to show him a photo, and then said, "Pamela's cultivation strategy is very successful. The survival rate of seeds reached 90%, and it looks like there is no problem with nutrition. In this way, we can carry out plant cultivation on the planet of Centaurus. The only problem is—soil and fertilizer are a bit difficult to get."

"What's difficult about this?" Loki didn't understand. In his view, the soil on Earth is always like it doesn't cost money. Although fertilizer is a bit expensive, the output is not lacking.

"We don't use ordinary soil and fertilizer, the soil is from Cat Getan. Don't ask why, because I can't figure it out. And fertilizer..."

Schiller stopped talking. Loki narrowed his eyes and looked at him. Schiller still stretched out his hand and said: "We can't be sure whether fertilizer really played a role in it, but for the sake of insurance, it's better not to change this variable. In short, we need some alien corpses."

"Ah?"

"Remember the two accidents when things broke out? In order not to make things big, I recycled the corpses, but that thing can't always be carried on me. So I buried them in the soil, didn't expect that this thing and Cat Getan's soil have a very good compatibility, and Pamela also admitted the role of this biological fertilizer in the plant cultivation process, so..."

Loki couldn't help covering his face.

"Why does everything we do eventually become like this?"

"I want to know too," Schiller said very sincerely.

This kind of thing does happen often. For example, back then, Schiller and Strange went to clear the dungeon together, originally it was a good medical dungeon, but eventually it became Hell's Kitchen.

Just like now, originally it was a very serious Milky Way development plan, but after doing it, it became a corpse party again.

"Alright," Loki's moral bottom line clearly wasn't very high, he said, "If they are unkind, don't blame us for being unrighteous. According to the speed of their infiltration, corpses definitely won't be lacking, but the problem is, how to distinguish these fake people."

"Visa review can't be too strict, if we really don't let this bunch of people in, we might still lack corpses. So we'd better set up a border checkpoint, and when they cross the border, we'll secretly..."

Schiller made a gesture. Loki suddenly realized, and then said: "But who should be the prosecutor to accurately distinguish fake people? I remember Charles's brainwave amplifier is almost repaired, right?"

"It's not impossible for him to come, but the spiritual world of some fake people is impeccable. After all, that bunch of electronic life is not stupid, they might bury nano-robots in these people first, and then start them when they are used. In this way, using mind reading can't be checked out."

"Then add a scanning device to scan out nano-robots as much as possible."

"There is also the possibility of burying mines in the spiritual aspect, they can wash the brain first, and then cover up the process of brainwashing, and then use other methods to trigger it later."

"This is a problem, although if Charles checks carefully, he should be able to check it out, but he can't do nothing, sitting there as a prosecutor, right?"

"I have a good candidate," Schiller smiled and said, "Not mind reading, better than mind reading, and he likes to work this kind of shift the most."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Pride."

Loki's proposal for a checkpoint was unanimously approved by the Asgardians. In truth, the one they caught last time really was a spy, just a rather crude android controlled by Jarvis, which had taken a turn around the outskirts of Asgard and happened to be caught by a patrol. The facts of this matter were known only to the All-Father, the Queen, and Loki; the other Asgardians still believed they had truly been infiltrated by a spy reaching their home.

Generally speaking, the gods are not afraid, but that last battle did indeed let them see the ferocity of these robots. Moreover, this time the spy was able to reach the very gates of their home; if one were to actually slip in, would there be any safe place left in the Nine Realms?

Therefore, they were all in favor of adding checkpoints. And from the human perspective, this was something that should have been done anyway. As more and more interstellar news appeared on the human internet, they also gained a basic understanding: the Nine Realms are a land of great fortune, how could they let you in so easily?

The checkpoint was set up at the dimensional entrance, and this dimensional entrance was the only open one. That is to say, all aliens wanting to come over had to pass through here.

Alien spacecraft were temporarily not allowed to enter, so everyone had to get out and walk. Only after verifying their identity at the checkpoint were they allowed to enter the Nine Realms. And the inspector at this checkpoint was none other than Pride.

Pride sat in front of the desk. A green hand suddenly reached in from the window, and identity documents and visa papers were handed over. Pride glanced at them briefly, took another look at the big guy behind the glass, picked up the stamp next to him, pressed it with a 'Click!' onto the visa documents, and then handed the documents back to him. The passage ahead indicated clearance.

But what this big guy didn't know was that Pride had clicked on the computer next to him, which showed that this guy had already been marked. In other words, he was very likely a scout sent by the Three Empires, and would appear at the plant cultivation base before long.

The phone suddenly rang. Pride picked it up, and Greed's voice sounded from the other end: "How does it feel to be at work on your first day?"

Pride gave a cold snort and said, "I invited you over for a vacation, you invited me over to work; what new breed of returning evil for good is this?"

"The meaning of life lies in work. I just found you the job that suits you best; isn't that a good thing?"

Pride couldn't be bothered to say more to him, because he knew that Greed really thought that way. He believed that arranging a suitable job for everyone in this world was a benefit to the whole world. As for whether the other party wanted to work, that was unimportant.

Pride didn't actually mind this job. After all, compared to teaching, all the jobs in the world were relatively easy. Even though his current teaching job was already considered easy, there was never a shortage of stubborn fools and smart-alecks. There were occasional surprises in his inbox, but mostly it was nonsensical papers. Being able to escape for a few days was not bad.

In fact, this job was indeed very suitable for Pride. His psychoanalysis was a passive talent; he could judge someone fairly well with a single glance. And judging comic book characters in the past hadn't really been challenging, because as someone who had read the comics, he knew their backgrounds and other information, so the reasoning process wasn't too difficult.

But facing these aliens who hadn't appeared in the comics at all—some of whom weren't even human—judging their mental state and ferreting out the spies among them could be considered a rather challenging job.

Most importantly, the positive feedback was strong, because the one responsible for dealing with those spies was Greed. Greed didn't engage in the art of murder; he was purely slaughtering, but unfortunately, his efficiency was truly too high.

Let's put it this way: the move Amanda pulled back then with the clones was aimed at exhausting these artists. It was fortunate she didn't run into Greed, otherwise, he would have had to show her the power of a modern assembly line.

Pride would mark them during the day, and basically, before nightfall, the person would already be lying in the cultivation base. After they died, of course, one could examine them carefully, and then confirm the results to Pride. Verified the same day, settled the same day; the sense of achievement was very satisfying.

And then there were Charles and Jarvis, those two cheat codes. When he really wasn't sure at a critical moment, he could even use tools. Within two days of the checkpoint opening, the accuracy of his judgments was 100%.

Of course, that only meant that those who were marked definitely were spies, but whether there were any fish that slipped through the net, it was currently impossible to tell.

Just as new people were arriving in the Nine Realms one after another, Greed was studying that small box. And at this time, the tavern had an unexpected group of visitors: Peter and Polaris's party.

"How did you end up wandering over here?" Schiller asked.

"We heard you opened a tavern here; there are videos of Asgardians reviewing the shop on the internet." Peter shook his phone, sat down at the bar, and then said, "We haven't had a decent meal in days, make us some of your signature dishes, Doctor."

"No problem," Schiller said. "Want some beer?"

They each ordered a beer. The others sat at the bar chatting, only Polaris sat in the direction of the kitchen.

"How have you been feeling lately? Miss?"

"Not bad. I've talked a lot with the Arkham Knight. Good heavens, you have no idea how complicated his story with Batman is." Polaris said with a gossipy look, "I've been asking him constantly these past few days, and I can ask for new things every time, but I feel like this isn't even thirty percent of the story. It's simply an endless ocean of riddles."

"Then what do you think of this story?"

"To be honest, I think they both seem a bit like mental patients, and maybe they really are mental patients. I feel like I'm much more normal than them, and my relationship with Havok is much more normal than theirs. At least we are just lovers, not foster father and son, friends, master and apprentice, enemies..."

"Do you think their story is beneficial to your current mental state?"

"Perhaps. I've spent a lot of time listening to and thinking about these stories, almost forgetting my troubles. Sometimes I'll put myself in the shoes of one of them and think about what I would do in that situation. But honestly, I can't think of any better solution either."

"Some riddles don't necessarily need an answer," Schiller smiled and said. "A simple relationship isn't necessarily simpler than a complex one. Perhaps it's also because it was too simple that both sides had no other choice, and that's why things progressed to this point."

"That's true," Polaris nodded and said. "We are just lovers, but everyone thinks that dating eventually leads to marriage, so Havok proposed. If we had other choices, perhaps it wouldn't be like this."

"Then do you think you should build a more complex relationship? Like Batman and the Arkham Knight?"

Polaris shook her head like a rattle and said, "No, no, no, we can't go from one extreme to another. I think sometimes simple relationships have their benefits too."

"But if you refuse his proposal, other than parting ways, you have no other choice, do you?"

"Do you think I should let him understand me? If he knew what I was thinking, perhaps he would understand that it wasn't that I didn't like him enough that I refused him. But if that were the case, he might never forget me. If I just didn't tell him anything, then he might be able to start a new life very quickly."

"That's for you to ask yourself; it's a matter you need to make a choice about. The moment a coin is tossed into the air, a person already knows their choice."

Polaris appeared very calm; she seemed to have already known her answer. She said, "When that terrible disaster destroyed my home, I no longer had a nest to return to, so I stopped having hope for it. I could never be a bird that loves its home again, but at the same time, I hope my partner will always wait for me in the nest. This is unfair to him, even if it's just waiting for me from afar."

Polaris's expression revealed a hint of perseverance. Humans are such a magical species; their growth is both slow and fast. But whether it's the long decades or that single instant, it always makes one feel amazed.

"Alright, Miss," Schiller placed a beer in front of her and said, "Don't think so much, come have a drink."