[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-858":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Mental Mentor in Marvel",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2323426,4544,"Chapter 858: The Charm of Human Spaceflight (Part 2)","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-858",858,"\u003Cp>Although it sounds absurd, the job of a cosmic traffic officer is nowhere near as glamorous as imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The solar system is vast, yes, but the space around Earth is limited; in the past, when countries launched various spacecraft, differing launch times and smaller numbers meant collisions rarely occurred unless intentional.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But since the Solar System Development Project came under Stark’s leadership, driven by his resolve to advance humanity’s collective technology, he disclosed numerous space transportation technologies to all nations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His intent was noble: to spark a technological race, encouraging each country to leverage its strengths and build deeper, specialized innovations upon his foundation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He originally assumed all nations would hoard their tech, delaying launch as long as possible, then merely reclassify new craft under old designations, shifting numbers backward and claiming they were merely upgraded models.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn’t wrong—countries had always done this in weapons development; even the most ostentatious nations, eager to flaunt new hardware, still held back secrets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But perhaps the coming Space Age had injected every nation with adrenaline, or perhaps the Iron Curtain had returned, driving them to madness—once they unlocked transportation tech, they began launching all manner of vessels into space as if the materials were free.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They didn’t know where to send them, what use they’d serve, or how to retrieve them—so they just launched them anyway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet nations could only launch from their own territories; land doesn’t move, Earth’s rotation is fixed, so launch trajectories were predetermined—making spacecraft launches resemble the game Zuma, or “toad spitting balls.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At first, it was a race to launch fastest; later, it became a contest of eyesight—who could spot gaps and thread their toad’s balls through without colliding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No matter how large Earth’s orbital space, it couldn’t withstand so many nations frantically launching ships.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Technologically advanced nations fared better, but some nations were both incompetent and reckless—unable to launch far yet insisting on launching anyway—leading to frequent chain collisions in low Earth orbit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Reed, studying low-Earth projects, stationed on the low-orbit station, watched the carnage like a traffic show: constant collisions, daily vibrations ringing in his ears—until he could bear it no longer and returned to Earth to research.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Polaris arrived, conditions were still manageable; Stark hadn’t foreseen this scenario—he merely noticed his own transport ships kept mysteriously breaking down, so he sought a traffic officer to clear the congestion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t expected his move to be so prescient—within days, the solar system had never been this chaotic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Throughout humanity’s long history, countless texts recorded grandeur—when sleepless at night, flipping pages carefully, you’d find three giant characters written everywhere: “THROWING STONES!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Stark convened a UN meeting, but he didn’t know what he’d said wrong—every nation misinterpreted him, launching spacecraft even more enthusiastically, not just throwing, but competing for distance, elegance of trajectory, and beauty of arc.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later, Stark discovered the cause: steel production had increased, vibranium prices had dropped, and conventional metal prices had plummeted even further, slashing the cost of chemical-fuel spacecraft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Big nations, already able to launch, now launched more; small nations, previously unable, now could thanks to Stark’s tech—and so they launched too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This made life hell for Polaris, newly appointed traffic officer—alone in the vast cosmos, she had to manage thousands of spacecraft with zero traffic awareness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As she cleared debris, she noticed each nation’s traits were vividly reflected in their spacecraft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>American transporters embodied sheer recklessness: full throttle, no matter who stood in their way, every design element screamed, “GET OUT OF MY WAY—I’M ILLUMINATING THE COSMOS FIRST!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Russian transporters, perhaps influenced by some scientific archaeology, inherited Soviet aesthetics: more is better, bigger is beautiful—ten segments beat one, build everything, launch everything; if it breaks, detonate it on-site—destroy one, reduce the clutter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chinese transporters looked ordinary, even mundane—but their cargo was the most bizarre; Polaris dreaded opening their “blind boxes,” never knowing whether the contents were just dirt, more dirt, or even more stinking fertilizer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>European spacecraft were unremarkable, but certain Nordic nations’ vessels screamed negligence—Polaris strongly suspected they were fraudulently claiming funding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire vessel was sleek and smooth, with no stabilizers, no tail fins, no seams, no redundant design—when Polaris first saw one, she thought Earth had laid an egg.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>African spacecraft were uniquely distinctive: if you called them high-tech, they’d stuff straw in seams and print leaves on shells to create a “natural” aesthetic; if you called them primitive, they’d send a lion in a spacesuit into orbit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And when delivered, the lion was wildly active—paired with jetpacks on its suit, Polaris couldn’t catch it by physical pursuit alone and had to use magnetism to capture it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of all spacecraft, India’s were the most absurd—Polaris stared at the Shiva statue assembled from mismatched iron plates and sank into deep thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She didn’t know who this deity was meant to save—she only knew the rivets weren’t standardized; even if it returned safely, could they even build a second one?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While amazed, Polaris was utterly exhausted—these spacecraft collided in every imaginable way, and without precognition or spider-sense, she couldn’t stop them before impact—she could only clean up the wreckage afterward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Collisions fell into several categories: first, big nation vs. big nation—most exhausting for Polaris, as their vessels were massive and heavily built.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When America’s high-speed racer collided with Russia’s suicide craft, Polaris spent half an hour just collecting fragments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Collisions between big and small nations were easier—just collect the small nation’s debris—but complications arose if the big nation’s craft was damaged but still flyable; many refused to abandon it, forcing Polaris to haul it back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Collisions between small nations were also painful—their vessels were bizarrely shaped, fragments couldn’t be reassembled, and worse, some nations’ names were unknown to Polaris—she couldn’t tell them apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After three days of nonstop, sleepless, high-intensity traffic control, Polaris finally ran out of patience—she finally understood: your body is yours, your job is theirs—when you can slack off, slack off; no need to pour your soul into it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, following the “Hulu Xue” principle, she stopped assigning blame, bundled fragments into balls and hurled them far away, stacked main frames into bigger balls and tossed them even farther.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When she remembered, she’d fly to the Sun and incinerate them; when she forgot, she’d leave them piled up—after all, no one launched spacecraft farther than she did, so collisions were unlikely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When nations collided, Polaris would casually say, “Crashed. Vehicle gone. Pay garbage fee to the UN,” too lazy to describe the scene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some nations received only a message: “Crashed. Vehicle gone. Pay garbage fee to the UN.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This saved her effort—she simply orbited Earth daily, bundling the chaos like bowling balls, tossing them out, glancing at labels, and sending a few messages.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the UN descended into chaos: today your vehicle hit mine, tomorrow two others collided, causing my vehicle to chain-crash…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one could determine fault—ultimately, it came down to who had the bigger fist; if nations were evenly matched, then it came down to who had the stronger individual.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nobody knew if space tech had advanced—but diplomats’ average fighting skills had skyrocketed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And worse, when everyone’s fighting skills were roughly equal, they had to resort to unconventional tactics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First to appear was Wakanda, an African nation with neither strong fists nor powerful diplomats—Black Panther, clad in his armor, slaughtered gods and crushed ordinary men in a single blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He charged through the brawl of diplomats, seized the microphone, and delivered a solemn account of Africa’s history of exploitation—no one could wrest it from him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He set the precedent; nations no longer held back—those with superheroes sent them, those without sent mutants—the UN conference hall was now too chaotic to stand in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon they realized individual combat was disadvantageous—they needed alliances, so nations began recalling old bonds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hand in hand, they recalled happier times: America raised its arm, vowing to restore NATO’s glory; Middle Eastern nations wearing head coverings united, determined to prove the power of money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>African nations didn’t back down—Wakanda shouted, “Wakanda Forever!”—voicing Africa’s centuries of suffering; Germany had just pulled out the swastika when it suddenly remembered its grander title: the Holy Roman Empire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Stark returned to the UN, he saw a battered conference hall, a crowd of bizarrely dressed superheroes, and diplomats locked in hostile stances…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around him echoed America’s impassioned speeches, Russia’s thunderous declarations, Wakanda’s mournful ballads…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Far away in the Andromeda Galaxy, Magneto, studying a design for an air island renovation, suddenly heard his phone ring behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stood, picked it up, and Stark’s roar came through:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Magneto!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Come back now!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[58] Your daughter’s about to start World War III!”\u003C\u002Fp>",1434,"2026-06-20T16:39:22.658Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","496fef01814e688eb2b00bb961f4d029a95ef8f8c455719387d527d6695e2f9c","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-859","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-857",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]