Chapter 509: NO.92: Who doesn't like a grand reunion?

NO. 92: Who doesn't like a grand reunion?

At this moment, in an interdimensional space that no surveillance in the base city could reach.

The Metron Alien lay on a metal plate swirling with white vapor.

Cold frost spread over his body, making him like seafood in a freezer.

But it's rare to be able to barbecue one's own seafood.

The swirling white vapor was not cold air but steam; the Metron Alien's whole body heated up to a scalding degree that could make some elderly spacefarers have unpleasant associations.

Is it going to explode?

Undeniably, in that instant, several red‑clad figures rose in their minds.

They also shuddered slightly at those figures and took a step back.

But they were only a minority; more people gathered around the Metron Alien, whispering.

Looking down from above, they viewed his posture like a flock of vultures.

"Tewei'er, I never thought this guy could be put to such use."

"Hiding the miniaturized New World on a person actually succeeded."

"Not bad for recycling, huh? The Ker Alien says this guy is close to Lin Dun, really being used everywhere."

"Ah, Commander Bulaike, may I ask about our New World…"

"Isn't it stable yet? The shell can't hold much longer."

The vultures saw the leader; when the man in black formal wear approached, everyone made way and gazed at him eagerly.

"I came for this very reason, everyone. The foundation of the New World is complete; you can now find your respective vehicles." The man smiled in response.

"We've been waiting for you to say that! Come on over, people from the Technical Development Area!"

"All right! Matelin, let's go!"

"Good, good, good! Thank you very much, Commander Bulaike!"

""

... Enthusiastic greetings and thanks, along with incessant nagging, the man smiled and replied, then turned to check the status of the 'container,' when anxious cadres stepped forward.

"Commander, Simomo can't be reached—did he also stay behind to fight those annoying Ultra Warriors?"

"Qiaojini too—just think, yesterday he directly handed over his share of the New World's mechanical factory to me; he's clearly preparing to sacrifice himself as well."

"And Gaille and the others! Are they also doing this for us…?"

Barbar Aliens, Baltar Aliens, Shapur Aliens, and other cadres stepped forward one after another.

They had clearly come to check on the condition of their compatriots and friends; even though they had already reached a conclusion in their hearts, they still did not harbor any hope of luck.

In response, the man merely smiled faintly, raised his staff and pointed toward a distant Zarab Alien: "The person in charge of battlefield supervision is over there; I believe he'll know who you're looking for."

"Ah, sorry."

"Ah, it's Mr. Zarab, Mr. Zarab!"

With the main person present, the crowd of desperate aliens seeking medical help instantly shifted, freeing up space near the Metron Alien, and the alien pushing a small cart approached.

"Commander, please make way." From the cart he picked up bag after bag of compressed, fold‑packed medical devices; this alien was indeed a medic, administering an IV to the frozen Metron Alien inside the container.

To be frank, among the Invasion United Army's many diverse alien species, few are truly capable of being good doctors.

Those Abo aliens with experience in manufacturing super beasts and familiarity with alien physiology are among them.

Although the experts are still monsters, their knowledge of alien physiology is also not lacking.

Even with the Metron Alien's distinctive appearance, he could precisely locate each artery and vein; but just because he knows the physiology well doesn't mean his medical skill is high.

"How is it?"

Commander Bulaike, who had stepped back to give him space, no longer wore his earlier calm composure.

Meeting that gaze, the Abo alien instinctively glanced around, realized the area was nearly empty, then turned back, hesitating: "... His fever is hard to bring down."

"You can see that," the man said, turning his gaze from the steaming body to the Abo alien, "but I'm asking how long he can live—we don't have much time."

He had a very clear understanding of the current situation.

The alien worlds in the Digital Realm are always more rather than less; even if the police obtain the aid of the Blessed Gospel Squad and the Digital World, sealing off the New World quickly remains difficult.

But if they keep the portal open like this until all the United Army's comrades have transferred, trouble is certain to ensue.

Therefore, the door should be closed as quickly as possible; moreover…

He glanced again at the frozen container's Tewei'er; its originally scarlet shell‑like body seemed to have faded.

Metron Aliens are often called "seafood" because of their appearance, but the opposite is true for real seafood—when their dark‑toned body flesh begins to pale, it also signals the loss of vitality.

"As the data shows, a human girl's first possession by a constant entity was like this; afterward her condition improved greatly, but that's only reference material…"

The Abo alien doctor hesitated; on his similarly aquatic‑shell‑like face, only his eyes revealed the turmoil.

"Fayinbas is merely an imitation of the constant, but the information pressure of the miniaturized world is real—even if Tewei'er isn't pure data life but a organism with higher information density, it's still…"

Bang!

He hadn't finished speaking when Commander Bulaike's staff struck the floor beneath him.

The dull metallic clang almost made the Abo doctor jump: "How long can he last? Can't your machines give any results?!"

"Ten… ten minutes! His physical condition can only sustain those data for ten minutes!"

"Ten minutes…" Upon receiving that answer, Commander Bulaike fell into thought, his expression grim.

"Ten minutes…"

He then sighed again, but immediately felt something was off.

For his sigh just now sounded deeper than a bass drum; although it was his own voice, it also seemed like a distorted mix.

Looking again at the doctor beside him, who regarded him with a puzzled gaze, he promptly lifted his staff.

"Everyone! Withdraw—" "Where to withdraw to?"

It seemed as if every one of his movements had been completely anticipated, even what he would shout could be predicted in general; that deep, resonant voice still sounded, right beside him, attacking with a sharp wind.

He's here!

Nuobei!

Commander Bu Lai Ke's reaction was half a beat slow, but beneath his formal attire dark red tentacles probed out, blocking that long blade with resilient force, and in the next moment wrapped it.

And he himself, moreover, retreated half a step in his steadfastness at this moment.

In that half-step, he saw a ferocious face.

The silver points of light rising in the black smoke ought to have been hard to discern, but he nevertheless had a familiarity with them, for that sharp gaze, as if it wanted to see through him, was deep enough.

He had seen it three times.

Enough to let him realize in that instant that it was a face that should not have appeared, close before his eyes, bearing a faint black mist.

The condensation of deep resentment, a remnant of the lover-ghost's power.

"You..."

His chest tightened, and a trickle of blood spilled from his lips.

Lowering his head, he could see the familiar bone spur.

That was Bu Lai Ke En Duo's bone spur, half of it, piercing his own chest.

Moreover, carrying an irresistible force, it pierced him, sending him flying sideways, nailing him to a wall four zhang away.

"You?"

Repeating the opponent's unfinished pronunciation, the demon tilted his head slightly and let out a mocking snicker.

With his snicker, the space also began to flash with red light.

A clamorous noise came from all directions.

Those sounds were utterly discordant, yet all were human voices, but the language was even more strange—each speaking in their accustomed tongue, revealing that the speakers had fallen into panicked instinct.

It was precisely these sounds that caused the man nailed to the wall to show blatant astonishment on his face.

"Ten minutes, ah, I'm torn about whether to abandon some people."

The demon gazed at him, splitting his mouth to reveal sharp teeth.

In his raised claw, at some point a strangely shaped knuckle-dagger had appeared, which emitted a weird mechanical sound when he pressed it down.

"Listen to me, you don't have to abandon anyone."

"You can all be neat and tidy."