Chapter 1101: NO.6: Chat Room: Mercenaries Really Lost Contact?

NO. 6: Chat Room: Mercenaries Really Lost Contact?

"…Have you guys shared the information entanglement?"

The demon who had experienced many information bombardment baptisms, not slow to react, recalled his first encounter with the ghost shark and 'Skadi', and thus had doubts:

Why, during this period, did Isamara's consciousness 'riot', thereby severely affecting Skadi's condition?

Tracing back to the root, the result was that it was himself who had undergone special experiences during this period.

Having been to the Gulite Universe, he had seen another Isamara of himself.

And his understanding at that time was that the other Isamara had made a mark on him, and this side's Isamara sensed that mark, thus becoming more obsessed with himself.

Now it seems, that guess's result was not wrong, but the root was mistaken.

He could not help but re-examine a problem he had once hastily overlooked:

——How does the Faction's collective will, capable of controlling even the cellular conditions of each individual, actually transmit?

The initial impression was bloodline, later impression was nerves, but upon careful thought——just how are the bloodlines connected, how are the nerves synchronized, to allow them to link?

Combined with the other's words at this moment, Aomo's heart immediately rose with a bold hypothesis.

Information entanglement effect.

This is a phenomenon of the quantum realm, also a research field that most civilizations' technologies cannot reach.

And according to Aomo's knowledge, the pre-civilization that created the Faction possessed technological achievements with a rating clearly not low.

It matches, but perhaps not entirely.

After all, creation is not reality; in the present where quantum mechanics has long become a classic theoretical support in the creative field, countless creators, for convenience, abuse it, to the point that this term has become cliché, while real scientific development instead highlights a flourishing diversity.

And the occasional 'refreshing' transmigrators also enrich the development direction of the research field.

So Aomo is not that confident in this inference; merely as a reader who often peruses literary works, he subconsciously brings out the most generic possibility.

But that differs from 'Skadi'; 'Isamara' gave a very straightforward conclusion:

"That's right, it's a pity you don't have that yet, but it's okay," she gazed at Aomo, her eyes human-like, carrying a tender affection, "I will make our relationship return to that."

"?"

Aomo felt something was off.

What's off is not only the other's current display, which is indistinguishable from human emotion, not feigned affection, but also that the other's words are so excessive, while the two beside them remain still.

Not to mention Qielinenina, Miss Qi is certainly not someone who would swallow such anger silently.

Such a public statement directed at her boyfriend ought to be no different from provocation; how could this monster maker have ever endured such silence?

He subconsciously wanted to turn his gaze toward those two, but then heard a piercing brake sound that made passersby scream.

For a moment, everyone's gaze turned to the narrow alley outside the office, where they saw a convertible sports car with a shark paint job blocking the entire view, and atop it, a trendy woman wearing sunglasses slightly lifted her shades toward them.

"I should have arrived just in time?"

That was Miss Laurentina, as Skadi's friend, a monitor and escort, who had earlier sent word that she would arrive soon.

Indeed, the fact is exactly so.

"... Indeed, it's truly time; you should let her out, Isamara—you should know, she is not you, and I am not him."

"Isn't that so? But I am indeed He, and you are indeed him."

For those born with inherent mental defects, who must assimilate to someone like Isamara to obtain emotions, human philosophical discourse may perhaps be meaningless.

She, like Skadi's comrade Laurentina, is extraordinarily convinced of the existence of beings that 'look alike, behave alike, and share the same identity,' almost without hesitation accepting the time contained in those memories.

But Aomo is not a convenient race like the Faction that can easily digest simultaneous information.

He acknowledges that the Beast King might be a future aspect of himself, but he firmly does not want to become him.

Likewise, he does not accept such a future.

But the current crux is not here; rather, it lies in having accepted those half-Isamaras, and because of that time span, being obsessed with himself.

That obsession appears baseless to anyone looking; even the involved Aomo can understand it rationally, yet finds it hard to hide his psychological resistance.

This feeling is largely like certain rebirth-story protagonists abruptly revealing their identity to some side characters and explaining that in the future their relationship with those characters will be the same—regrettably, Aomo is projecting himself as the side character.

Somewhat abstract, friend.

If he were any less familiar, he'd be sweating soybeans.

And if this truly were a confession, he could easily reject it.

But the other party seems aware of this, and the remarks they made are obviously neither here nor there.

"Okay, Aomo Lindun, I'll stay like this."

"Soon, no need to wait long; when I and my blood relatives glide through the air to arrive, I… I want you to allow me to accompany by your side."

When she spoke these words, her expression was serious yet calm, her face lacking any shy maiden's bashfulness or excitement, allowing Aomo to more precisely judge the core of her emotions.

Loneliness.

Just loneliness.

"Your assimilation with Skadi gave rise to self-awareness; you drew from her template notions of companionship and of the race, and from another Isamara you obtained an answer that you are no longer lonely."

"You always take others' feelings for your own, still walking within the Faction's framework, but we are not the Faction, Isamara."

"We will not so lightly appropriate others' emotions and memories; even if those pose no harm, we still rely on our emotional self's judgment to decide whether to accept."

Gazing at the Isamara whose eyes showed incomprehension, Aomo sighed from his heart.

To be frank, He truly has no qualification to look down on 'Skadi'.

Whether sensibility or rationality, this split Isamara both reveal their respective cognitive gaps.

"For those who reject acceptance, merely imitating according to memory is useless; do not use that corrupt process to interact with other races' beings—this is my sole advice to you."

"If you can achieve this, you will be able to flawlessly resolve the contradictions there, and bring the masses to this world."

"By then, I will listen to your requests again."

"I believe that by then, you will truly understand what it means to be human, and will have successfully applied that understanding to yourself, figuring out your genuine way of life."

Alright, my answer ends here, Miss Laoluntina. Please take her back.

"It's not really a trouble, but it seems you gave that guy on the whale a lesson first," said the ghost shark who had listened to the whole final segment, raising an eyebrow at Aomo, "Are you some kind of anthropologist?"

I don't deserve that; I just find that some of the survival methods of other species can be learned and applied directly.

For example, the estrangement between monster users and the societal structure of the world where it's not as good as returning to Taiwan—this irreconcilable contradiction is simple when placed on the masses.

As long as the initial life-form figures it out, the offspring individuals then have a completely new understanding of life available for download.

If we want to coexist peacefully with other beings, this is what they must do.

Otherwise, they would continue to follow the path of devouring everything and assimilating everything, or else split off from other intelligent life forms, occupy a barren frontier planet, and play by themselves.

The former is easy to rely on given the existence of the Star Alliance, while the latter…

If Yishamala didn't come to harass me, they would also be quite supportive.

"Is that so? I've heard that anthropologists around here easily attract trouble."

Laoluntina gazed at Aomo thoughtfully, as if she had already seen the little black sheep on his head and Yalikexisi on the light screen beside him, etc., the "intangible things".

"It's already quite late; you should take her back."

"Indeed, then let's visit again when we have the chance."

At this point, the ghost shark didn't really want to stay any longer, leaving a sentence that made Aomo show a professional smile; then, with that gaze suddenly becoming reserved and a bit simple-hearted, Sikadi waved at this side and then went away.

To be honest, if she doesn't drive the car away, others wouldn't easily get out of this alley.

And when Aomo, with a dry smile, saw off the few reluctant spectators, only then did they finally turn around and look at their two girlfriends who had always been quiet.

"Qian, Qieliena." Aomo looked at the two girls with wandering gazes.

"I think we should have something to talk about."

"No talking! I'm going to play games!"

"I also need to go to work; I previously took on two night shifts."

The unwillingness to talk surfaced, but rather than throwing a tantrum, it was more like a guilty conscience that Aomo couldn't understand.

"I can help you get your gaming back on track, and I can also help handle the delivery work."

"This isn't good… Little Snake is already tired, right?"

"Aomo, you can't work overtime anymore."

At this point, the girlfriends' worry didn't seem feigned.

Realizing that it wasn't just Aomo who had severely exceeded their overtime quota these days, the so-called affection stemmed from that extraordinary attention.

And also the mutual care.

"If that's the case, let's quickly discuss and let everyone return to their former selves."

"Uh… former selves… then I'll die." Someone muttered softly.

It couldn't be hidden from the two people's ears.

"Alright, let's eliminate Miss Xintiaoqian, whose head is full of yellow trash."

"You clearly understood, yet there's a problem! You also want it in your heart, don't you!"

"Let's eliminate Miss Xintiaoqian again, who keeps swapping the focus."