Chapter 588: Living Brain Cells (10)

"I'm not a space alien!"

Midnight Dad's furious roars echoed through the central control hall; if the spacesuit helmet were transparent both ways, his twisted, darkened face would've been clearly visible.

Wait, isn't Midnight Dad's accent that of a Black man? Then never mind.

For some reason, hearing that rhythmically rhythmic Black accent, Li Cheng suddenly heard the melodic strumming of a guitar and the crack of a whip slicing through air.

"No one said you were."

Loss of Control spoke up to comfort him, and the others followed suit, urging Midnight Dad not to get worked up.

But everyone here was sharp—Midnight Dad saw them slowly backing away and knew he was no longer trusted; he immediately reached behind him, pulled a sharp iron shard from a gap in his life-support backpack, and roared: "I didn't kill Valkyrie! I'm not a space alien! It's them two!"

The sentry robot hanging beneath the ceiling rail automatically detected violent elements, instantly spinning and swinging downward, its two metal rods capable of releasing high-voltage arcs now pointed straight at Midnight Dad, ready to unleash an electric shock.

From the neck speaker of the spacesuit came Midnight Dad's heavy, ragged breathing: "Do you want me to slit open my spacesuit and rip out my organs to prove it?"

Saying this, he actually raised the iron shard and stabbed it toward his ribs.

The outer fabric of the spacesuit was extraordinarily tough; no matter how much he cut or scraped, it remained unbroken.

Li Cheng's mind raced: Valkyrie was dead, he himself had been in the ventilation duct, Loss of Control had been outside the blast door—only Edith, Zhongli Mieming, and Midnight Dad had been in the room.

Edith and Zhongli Mieming both claimed the killer was Midnight Dad; there were three possibilities: first, both of them were space aliens, conspiring to frame him.

Second, Midnight Dad was the killer, trying to clear himself by aggressively claiming, "If I were really a space alien, I'd have killed the biggest threat—Edith—first."

As for the third possibility…

Li Cheng suddenly said: "The holographic map's description says space aliens have partial shapeshifting abilities, right?"

"Right."

Dir said: "Space aliens can alter their own body structures—including vocal cords—to easily mimic others' voices. They can also change height, build, weight, skin tone, race, even gender."

The only drawback is that space aliens cannot mimic metal.

So as long as we're still wearing spacesuits of different colors, space aliens cannot fully impersonate us."

Dir glanced at Li Cheng: "I've observed: Edith, Zhongli Mieming, Midnight Dad, and the dead Valkyrie—all four spacesuits are intact. There's no possibility of impersonation by a space alien."

Given the near-impossibility that both Edith and Zhongli Mieming are space aliens—the risk of them conspiring to frame him is too high—Midnight Dad remains the prime suspect."

"YouBitch!"

Midnight Dad cursed loudly, but before the sentry robot's cold arc emitters, he could only stand frozen.

"Regardless, we must execute one technician this round."

Hydra chimed in: "The Noisy Kid said there's at most one or two space aliens among us."

If we kill one this round, things will be much easier afterward."

If someone else dies, focus on Edith and Zhongli Mieming."

In a few words, they'd already decided Midnight Dad's fate. The Jester glanced at Midnight Dad, his fingers clenched so tightly around the iron shard that his glove sank deeply inward, and said: "Buddy, lighten up—life's full of injustices."

Look at me: my dad secretly sold the ancestral home to tip streamers, my mom believed in some Korean cult, my wife, middle-aged and determined to open a milk tea shop and crush Mixue Bingcheng, my daughter posts on Little Red Book calling my biological dad an old creep who should just explode his coins, my son incites classmates to hike the Ao Tai Line on weekends trying to become a minor internet celebrity, and my youngest son takes steroids and estradiol to become a muscle yonan."

Look at me—I've got a great attitude now, don't I?"

This speech had too many absurd points—even Li Cheng was stunned.

Bro, did your whole family meet on Tieba? What is this, a real-life parody family?

Wait, no—how did the Jester recover his memories so fast?

He even remembers what his family is like?

Midnight Dad, aware he was doomed, paid no attention to the Jester's nonsense; he stood frozen, gripping the iron shard tightly.

The Jester said: "How about this—we reset it. Set the reusable rocket cargo bay's orbit to a mid-level planetary orbit."

Space aliens can't cross space. If, after all repairs are done, we find the real killer is someone else, and you're an innocent human, we'll have the Noisy Kid remotely control the orbit and drop the cargo bay back to Xinxian Base, upload your memories to a hard drive, and achieve cybernetic immortality."

That way, you won't lose anything. Fair enough?"

"Hah. Who are you trying to fool with that?"

Midnight Dad rasped: "The Noisy Kid didn't bother distinguishing—executed dozens of base members last round. How do you guarantee it'll expend computing power to bring me back down?"

Don't fool yourself."

Even so, Midnight Dad accepted reality. He turned, looked at the sentry robot, and slowly backed away into the rocket cargo bay, pressing his back against the curved wall.

(The cargo bay is bullet-shaped, pointed at the top and rounded at the bottom, connected via an elevator shaft to the fully automated lower warehouse; after launch, it can be resupplied.)

The Jester, Loss of Control, and Li Cheng carried Valkyrie's body inside, then exited the bay. Loss of Control pressed a few buttons on the foolproof control panel outside, setting the cargo bay's ascent speed to 7.9 kilometers per second and its orbital velocity to 3.87 kilometers per second—sufficient to maintain a mid-orbit flight around the planet.

"I'll be waiting for you in hell."

As the cargo bay door slowly closed, Midnight Dad raised a single middle finger toward the thick observation window glass and said coldly: "You bunch of beach—"

Before the final word "kids" could leave his lips, the bullet-shaped cargo bay was launched by electromagnetic rails at a speed far exceeding sound, vanishing instantly from sight.

This time, Li Cheng stayed alert. The moment the rocket cargo elevator stopped vibrating, he rushed forward, pressing his helmet against the observation window glass—but it was pitch black, nothing visible; he gave up.

"Mid—night—Dad—ah, croak!"

The Jester's knees buckled; he dropped to the ground, wailing like a soul calling out, then suddenly slapped the floor and leapt up, whistling a carefree tune: "Lulu lulu~. Shall we get back to work? Repair progress is still under thirty percent—we've got plenty to do."

"Are you a chameleon? Why so fast at switching moods?"

Dir couldn't help but complain, but still checked his wristwatch: current execution countdown—1 hour 27 minutes.

Time continued to slip away, second by second.