Chapter 1548

NO. 163: Held back and didn't roll a 6.

Perhaps after today things could be a bit easier…… Aomo, walking down that long corridor, thought to himself.

Because he saw, besides other corridors and oversized fans on the glass wall beside him, also occasionally appearing were huge culture dishes soaked with organic matter.

Opportunities to directly head into the enemy headquarters' interior are always scarce; for him, who is now tangled in personal relations and feeling a bit weary, this also counts as successive good news that lifts his spirits.

Yeah, successive.

The first piece of good news that lifted his spirits was actually Bai Ren's frank confession about his own shortcoming.

Not to defeat the darkness, but to integrate into the darkness without changing or retreating.

What an excellent pursuit; he is glad to help.

But unfortunately, his time is a bit rushed.

That one-time removal of the nasal strip, after verbal guidance and implanting the power of Hei'an Lujiai'er into the spirit, can probably only last a short while.

Afterward, Miss Chen Guang will have to bring the nasal strip to pick someone up.

Gradually adapting is also good… Thinking this, he glanced a few more times at the passing culture tanks.

Of course, before those columnar tanks come into view, the light emitted by the fluorescent fluid will first imprint on the surface of his black lacquered helmet.

For Li Ming Qing, the helmet is very important.

Not because it is a piece of equipment with extraordinary ability, but because that I-shaped helmet has long served as the bearer of his image.

Any subordinates who have undergone surgery and can at any time bear his will attached to them can, via the helmet, display Li Ming Qing's authority.

Because Li Ming Qing's spirit attaches to the subordinates who wear the helmet.

This easily creates an illusion, a notion that 'Li Ming Qing's spirit resides in the helmet, and whoever wears it controls them,' as if it were some kind of talisman illusion.

But in reality, the helmet is merely a functional piece of equipment.

It can reflect light attacks and release a counterbeam that locks onto targets; aside from that, it's merely sturdy, with no fine control tricks—just that every follower called a prayer hand of Li Ming Qing has undergone a specific surgery so they can at any time and place receive Li Ming Qing's will.

The helmet is merely a symbol indicating Li Ming Qing's identity, and precisely because of this symbolic meaning, Aomo can save trouble by not changing into that cosplay armor and simply putting on the helmet to come over.

Of course, a coat large enough to cover the face, big enough to not only hide the skin but also conceal other clothing details—is also necessary.

As a disguise, inappropriate clothing often becomes a loophole.

An ill-timed outfit is enough to raise suspicion among the sensitive; a unique clash of clothing is even more like jumping on the opponent's danger zone—what makes that clash unique? It's unique because you're clashing with Aomo Lindun.

This will certainly raise suspicion; the probability isn't high, but it's not low either, after all, although he doesn't want to admit it, he is indeed at the forefront of the new generation of trainers.

Having reached this point, he has become a celebrity in the circle that peers, even if they dislike him, cannot ignore.

Naturally, this is a pure debuff for infiltration and penetration work, especially since the world is so big that there will always be people pondering public figures' outfits, regardless of whether they excel in image engineering, and the development of the internet has also lowered the cost for these idle folks to share their results.

That's pretty tragic.

But that is still not a reason for him to give up.

Although he could easily replace him, letting the equally skilled Huo Erhaiya take over, or even have the Carrot Hero organization of the Telesen Underground send personnel to support.

But he still chose to carry it out himself.

It's not that he distrusts their abilities; it's simply unnecessary, because he has already found a solution to the aforementioned problem.

The solution lies in the puppet technique he has been thinking about recently.

These past few days he has been poring over the specialized knowledge of puppet arts; with a foundation in energy control already quite high, he draws analogies, his learning speed is extraordinary, and even the suffixes of the documents he browses have gradually shifted from 'Introduction' to 'Advanced'; he already plans to buy a refined online course in a few days—relying solely on e-book style textbooks has pretty much reached its limit.

To go further, he needs to find an interested school's branch, open a membership, hang the badge of an honorary student to buy the online course, and conduct a sham one-on-one teaching.

The sham is both the online platform and the puppet arts teacher, who nine times out of ten is just a puppet—no need to expect the real person to show up.

But these are all future matters.

For the demon at present, there's no need to let puppets engage in combat, naturally also no need for a technique work of such high completion.

He only needs to construct a humanoid terminal capable of accepting operation—just like the so-called prayer hand, then give it a 'helmet,' and that suffices to disturb the outside world's vision and fabricate an alibi.

But when doubts arise, even having an alibi makes it hard to guard against some people's paranoia, so he won't overlook the details that deserve attention, including silencing the terminal.

Silencing, internal helmet system, witch beasts watching the network environment to always be ready to cut off from the digital domain—he, like an Iron Man, gazes at the screen inside the helmet and also at the corridor view behind the screen, all the way silently.

Only occasional exclamations are reserved for the test subjects along the way.

Although many of them are presented merely in a deficient way via limbs, tissues, etc., the management consoles before those culture columns also label their codes, signatures, and the physiological values currently being monitored.

To be frank, the quantity does not match Luzas's accumulation.

Furthermore, the purity is severely lacking.

Many of the test specimens, rather than being called monsters, are more like……

"Oh dear, the extraterrestrial beasts here are even more numerous than imagined," he said, turning his head while observing these, and asked a technician nearby who was adjusting the culture tank values, "Are these also commodities?"

Although the vast majority of monsters in the Mysterious Canopy come from space, many of them can be classified as alien beasts, but they are all large and tough.

Large enough to go toe-to-toe with Ultraman, tough enough to withstand countless direct hits from it, they enter the monster ranks purely by sheer size and numbers—such beings, their very existence is a walking disaster, enough for the term 'Kaiju', imbued with a special meaning, to supplant their original names and become known to Earth's residents.

However, what Aomo sees more of here are indeed alien beasts, no doubt.

Not mere meat chunks or organs, but a complete form—yet merely similar in size to most ordinary large terrestrial beasts, with only a slightly exotic alien flavor to its appearance; at a glance it doesn't look like a species that grew up on Earth.

Although this may not mean much, since many giant beasts also have surprisingly small early juvenile stages.

Unfortunately, Aomo knows most of them from webpages and physical magazines with alien content.

Although they are indeed beasts, some even possess very dangerous and troublesome abilities, but they still don't measure up to monster status.

When placed alongside genuine monster specimens and juveniles, they somewhat make up the numbers—how? Is the Light-chasers Club trying to bluff someone like me, an otherworlder who perhaps doesn't know much about monsters?

Or are they perhaps the sort of people found in every district of the Federation, all insisting on maintaining a near-uniform face-saving project?

These aren't merchandise.

He gave Aomo a doubtful look—this person probably doesn't have much time to read manga, watch anime, or watch movies, and the vegetation on his head is unusually sparse, making him a sleepy operator; upon seeing the squad leader absent, only seeing an unfamiliar nameplate, his attire even more bewildering, he wasn't scared at all, and at a glance identified him as a junior, someone he could casually chat with to pass the time.

They're weapons entrusted to us by that cult lot—boring stuff, not worth curiosity. If you have time to pay attention to this, you'd be better off watching Horse Girls.

Oh? You can still watch Horse Girls here?

"What are you thinking about? This place isn't Telesen, huh?" That remark made the operator both laugh and snap to attention: "I'm sending you to the Public Opinion Layer, the Cultivation Layer—those kinds of gloomy places where hardly anyone's around—there's nothing good about staying there."

"But the permissions here are also the hardest to get, ah."

Clearly in charge of the most important work, yet he has hardly any work enthusiasm, huh? Aomo glanced at the countless glass warehouses standing in rows, which didn't obstruct the sparse silhouettes visible, thinking he should also visit the other operators… but… can you directly watch horse girl races or go to Telesen in the Public Opinion Layer? He thought, the name sounds like the sort of place the Light-chasers Club would specialize in……

"Oh right, are there horse girls here? The kind that don't participate in races."

"Do the newbies these days not even manage to read the full member list?" The operator gave him a somewhat speechless look, and at his position on the ID badge: "You're an Honorary Researcher, right? You research types can't even spare a bit of attention to interpersonal relations?"

This doesn't look like just not having slept enough; it's more like the kind of nitpicking you'd have after smoking weed, enough to prove his job is an iron rice bowl.

"So, do they have them?" Aomo asked.

"You totally didn't listen, huh? Forget it, I'll still kindly remind you: the chief's team in the Public Opinion Layer are all horse girls; if you're not careful, you'll get tossed out on your first day at work."

"... Oh, thanks for the reminder."