Chapter 848: NO. 217: The Most Exhausting Episode

NO. 217: The Most Exhausting Episode

For convenience, people often define and label the things they encounter, then categorize them, even when it comes to their own kind.

Aomo Lindun has a friend named Lapulande Saluzuo who is fond of saying 'You and I are the same kind,' though she has only said it to a few people and never received acknowledgment in return.

Unilateral acknowledgment is still a kind of sadness, but the involved party's blood‑pressure‑raising maneuvers often make sympathy impossible, and Aomo Lindun never supports such behavior.

People are complex, people are multifaceted, and the moment you label them, you lose the objectivity with which you view them.

But he also has to admit that labels at least hold true to one aspect without error.

Just like now, he has to admit that he is largely the same kind of person as Miss Juncheon.

In the aspect of 'making work increase,' he has easily caught up to seniors who have countless more years of work experience than he does.

Regarding this, he feels no honor whatsoever.

He only feels a profound sorrow.

Especially when he finally prepared to leave that sunless spaceship, lit only by its lights… he realized that the time had indeed come for the streetlights to turn on.

At this moment he felt a slight emo.

This is rare.

From childhood, shouldering life's burdens while balancing studies and hobbies, even supporting others for over a decade without faltering, Aomo Lindun has always been the writer of iron will, the synonym for cold ruthlessness (crossed out), his emo moments in life are few enough to count, and even at midnight he would never post something that would make his next‑day self rush to delete.

——There is a beauty in personifying it.

But at age nineteen, his emo episodes began to rise steadily, as if he were starting to repay a debt.

From childhood to adolescence, the composure that surpassed most of his peers, all came back to haunt him during his youth.

By this point, a realization welled up in his heart: life had finally moved to act on this fast‑growing little snake of his. jpg

They even wanted to suppress him into a cat‑like form—referring to the large metallic‑colored cat ears of Mefeilas.

Looking at the refl­ection of a disagreeable gentleman in the sink mirror, even if Aomo tried to grin, the face made of combined metal and crystal structure showed not the slightest change.

This is AlienMefilas.

A small card stores the information of an entire life‑form; although not completely complete, even memory is retained, and its mode of existence, the use of its abilities, and even its racial instincts are all present.

If you are willing to immerse yourself deeply, you can thereby become the life it represents.

But the human spirit is often fragile.

Just as countless cybernetic modifications themselves must also accommodate spiritual supplementation, the human spirit is so 'delicate' that changing the body's form can lose balance, changing the material can lack substance, and it may gradually deteriorate into a fragile thing.

Whether it is technological transformation or sublimation of source energy, one must face this hurdle of spirit and soul.

This problem of diverse paths converging likewise encompasses the strengthening route of monster cards.

Without a doubt, the true means of gaining strength that corresponds to common understanding—light or even no side effects, without concern for compatibility—is obviously the path of Ultraman.

And the monster cards that are practically opposed to it are, in a niche sense, a heretical path; from the very creation of this technology, they were not intended for humans.

They were not even prepared for ordinary extraterrestrials—the original monster cards were for sealing monsters, not using them.

And the earliest users of monster cards were extraterrestrials harboring darkness.

But among these users, those who master the monster's power most splendidly are the bearers of the Dark Ring.

The power extracted and released from the Dark Ring is granted only to the most evil beings in the universe.

Such beings are indifferent to spiritual corruption, and also indifferent to whether they remain human.

The endless darkness welling up in the heart is precisely what the Dark Ring favors, and being favored by the Dark Ring itself strengthens that darkness, easily accommodating any monster card.

Of course, without a Dark Ring you can still annihilate enemy forces.

You can also be non‑evil, yet such a you will suffer more than the evildoers, because refusing to sink means taking up a stance of opposition.

In the struggle, you must confront the question 'Am I Mefeilas or not?'

You must be clear that you are not Mefeilas; it is merely a suit, not something grown into your flesh, even if you share a similar aspect with it.

'Don't fall into it.'

This is the warning of Shen Yongxin'er, or rather Lipiya, when he threw him over the shoulder.

Unlike the fusion beast, where several disparate objects combine, instead it feels like piloting a giant robot, and the incarnation of a single monster card is the most dangerous, with no distinction between self and other.

Different civilizations, different instincts, even entirely different life forms—each time undertaking such a vast cross‑domain leap is a challenge to the soul.

Faced with that immense discomfort, Aomo clearly did not falter like a toddler learning to walk.

He almost completely accepted it, easily displaying that flawless posture.

He could even easily deceive the alien Mefeilas of another world, gain its trust, and obtain fragmented information from the hangar where Jierbalisi is located.

But precisely for that reason, he deserves the warning from Lipiya.

He will also linger long before the mirror at this moment.

He gazes at his reflection in the mirror, as if staring into the abyss, utterly dark, unable to distinguish inside from outside.

But at that moment, a familiar greeting came from behind him, accompanied by a sense of rejection far deeper than the sound itself.

It can make the abyss itself begin to stir, as if colliding with another intolerable abyss.

"You haven't gone to rest yet, Mefeilas?"

"I'm just about to leave, Alliance Chief." Turning back, he bore a smile unreadable on his face, the gentle‑toned Mefeilas alien showed no trace of fatigue or chaos, and the accompanying prickling sensation that grew more evident each second left him no leisure for disorder.

Each second spent face‑to‑face with the opponent reminded him of Aomo Lindun's reflection two days earlier in his conversation with Miss Shihuai: 'What if money and power don't matter? For a purpose unattainable by ordinary resource pursuit, this viewpoint could correspond to a notorious cosmic threat……'

"That's right, no wonder you're a newcomer—you're really dedicated." The relieved Hipolite alien responded in kind, with a smile.

But because both of their non‑human faces hardly show expression, this scene, viewed from a human perspective, generally only raises a creepy feeling akin to the uncanny valley.

"You're joking, I'm just nervous."

"Oh? What's there to be nervous about?"

"Just arrived, I have to take over the Battle Supervisor's work tomorrow; I can't help but want to first get familiar with the headquarters."

"Oh, you started out sounding all bold, but you still end up nervous?"

Even I cannot hide the lofty anticipation that far exceeds reliance on 66 billion bio‑weapons.

Haha, then let's look forward to it—I'm also really looking forward to your performance tomorrow, Mefilas~

Please look forward to it, Your Excellency the Alliance Leader; then I'll take my leave.

Sure~

Amidst this joyful laughter, the expressionless Mefilas alien stepped away, and likewise the expressionless Hippolyt alien, after watching him go, gradually turned into a silhouette that broke apart into blocks.

Only after he had completely disappeared did he ask, muttering to himself:

He's suitable? Really unexpected—I thought only Ultraman Jie De and Ultraman Sai Luo would work……

——

Ten minutes later, Lin Dun Office in Boundary Gate District.

With Qian still holding her greeting pose, Aomo appeared together in the living room, and in the next second he collapsed onto the sofa, his whole person dazed and unable to open his eyes.

Huh? Xiao She, why did you collapse!!

Saying it as if concerned, she was actually mimicking him, likewise collapsing onto the sofa; though she didn't land on Aomo, she fell extremely close, almost making him involuntarily twitch.

Xiao She…? Ah… it's me……

"I want to sleep." Aomo, lying on his side on the sofa, was almost captured by its softness, his voice sounding like sleep‑talk.

However, the pink‑haired JK lying beside him likewise approached his face with the attitude of not letting him sleep, gazing at his sleeping visage from a distance where their noses almost touched, exhaling like an orchid: "You still haven't told me about today's operation……"

"I've been looking forward to it all day……"

"But I……my……activity energy is exhausted. If there's a problem…please call Chazuo…then transfer to Zhouri Ningjing……"

"Huh? Ah?! Qian Xin Tiao, whose face had just warmed from the hot breath, instantly forgot her shyness upon hearing this, but she also didn't forget to lower her voice."

"At least tell me the conclusion."

"For example, what might appear on the day of Zhi Jiang's match?"

"Monster."

"……That answer is way too perfunctory—who doesn't know that?!" His voice rose just as Aomo frowned slightly, and Qian whispered again, "……Who doesn't know those aliens bind monsters? It can't be, it can't be only monsters, right?""

"Look…website……"

"Website?"

"Vote…website……event……introduction……"

As he spoke, his voice trailed off completely, falling silent.