Chapter 608: Living Brain Cells (10)

“I’m not a space alien!”

Midnight Dad’s furious roar echoed through the central control hall; if the spacesuit helmet were transparent both ways, his twisted, darkened expression would’ve been plainly visible.

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

For some reason, hearing that rhythmically inflected 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—they saw Midnight Dad slowly backing away, and knew he was no longer trusted; he immediately reached behind him, pulled a sharp iron shard from a crevice 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 high-voltage arc-emitting metal rods pointing straight at Midnight Dad, ready to unleash a shock.

From the neck speaker of the spacesuit came Midnight Dad’s heavy breathing: “Do I have to slit open my suit and rip out my organs to prove it to you?”

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

The outer fabric of the spacesuit was unnaturally tough—no matter how he cut or scraped, it wouldn’t tear.

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 Midnight Dad was the killer; three possibilities exist: first, both of them are space aliens, conspiring to frame him.

Second, Midnight Dad is the killer, trying to clear himself by aggressively claiming: “If I were a space alien, I’d have killed Edith first—she’s the biggest threat.”

As for the third possibility…

Li Cheng suddenly said: “The holographic map says space aliens have partial shapeshifting abilities, right?”

“Correct.”

Dir said: “Space aliens can alter their own body structures—including their vocal cords—to easily mimic others’ voices. Height, build, weight, skin tone, ethnicity, even gender—all can be changed.”

The only flaw is that space aliens cannot mimic metal.

So as long as we’re still wearing spacesuits of different colors, they can’t fully impersonate us.”

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

Given that the chance Edith and Zhongli Mieming are both space aliens is extremely low—their collusion to frame him carries too great a risk—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 maintenance worker 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, the group had already decided Midnight Dad’s fate; the Laughing God glanced at Midnight Dad, his gloved hand clenched so tightly around the iron shard that the glove sank deep, and said: “Buddy, take it easy—life’s full of injustices.”

Look at me: my dad secretly sold our ancestral home to tip streamers, my mom believed in some Korean cult, my wife started a midlife business to open a bubble tea shop and crush Mixue Bingcheng, my daughter posts on Xiaohongshu calling my biological dad an old creep who should just explode his coins, my son got classmates to join weekend hikes on the Ao-Tai trail trying to become a underage internet celebrity, and my youngest son takes steroids and estradiol to become a muscle yonan.”

Look how well I’ve kept my mindset.”

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

Bro, did your whole family meet on Tieba? What kind of real-life prank family is this?

Wait, no—how is the Laughing God recovering his memories so fast?

He remembers what his family is like?

Midnight Dad, aware he was doomed, paid no attention to the Laughing God’s nonsense; he stood still, gripping the iron shard with all his strength.

The Laughing God said: “How about this—we reset it. Set the recyclable 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 trigger the orbit to drop the cargo bay back to Xinxian Base, upload your memories to a hard drive, and achieve cyber immortality.”

That way, you don’t lose anything—sound fair?”

“Hah. Who are you trying to fool?”

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 into the rocket cargo bay, pressing his back against the curved wall.

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

The Laughing God, Loss of Control, and Li Cheng carried Valkyrie’s body inside, then stepped out. Loss of Control pressed a few buttons on the foolproof control panel outside the bay, setting the ascent speed to 7.9 kilometers per second and the orbital velocity to 3.87 kilometers per second—enough to maintain a mid-orbit flight around the planet.

“I’ll be waiting for you in hell.”

As the 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 “child” could leave his lips, the bullet-shaped 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 over, pressing his helmet against the observation window glass—but it was pitch black, nothing visible; he gave up.

“Mid—night—Dad—ah, Gu !”

The Laughing God’s knees buckled; he dropped to the ground, wailing like a soul calling out, then suddenly slapped the floor and leapt up, whistling cheerfully: “Lulu lulu~ Shall we split into teams and get back to work? Repair progress is still under thirty percent—we’ve got plenty left to do.”

“Are you a chameleon? Your mood shifts that fast?”

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.