Chapter 341

At nine o'clock sharp, the lights in the Science and Technology Center lobby were all on. The triplets stood in the center of the main stage, one of them gripping a silver cane, the ring-shaped device above their head slowly began to rotate, emitting a faint hum. Zhao Jianguo sat in a side seat in the front row, hands resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the 'spacetime gate' on stage that hadn't fully opened—called a gate, but actually more like an oval light screen floating in mid‑air, its surface rippling with a water‑like blue glow.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Youth Science and Technology League is officially launched!" the eldest raised his cane, voice clear, "We come from different cities, different schools, but our goal is the same: to use technology to solve tomorrow's problems."

As soon as his words fell, the other two also lifted their canes. The terminals on the three youths' wrists flashed green simultaneously, and data streams flowed along the floor toward the central control console. The machine's operating noise suddenly surged, the light screen shuddered, its color shifting from blue to white, then to a pale gold.

Zhao Jianguo felt something was off. He narrowed his eyes and saw that the triplets stood ramrod straight, yet beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads, their complexions paler than before. Especially the third, whose lips were slightly bluish and the veins on the backs of their hands faintly bulged.

"Activation successful!" the second shouted, his voice hoarse halfway through.

Applause rose from the audience, and staff began taking photos. But Zhao Jianguo didn't move. He stared at the translucent interface that suddenly popped up before his eyes, bearing four large characters: "New Mission Issued." Below, a line of small text read: "Explore the parallel universe—accept?"

Before he could tap "No," the light screen shuddered violently, as if sucked by something. Immediately, the tips of the three canes sparked and sputtered out. The triplets all shuddered; the eldest nearly knelt, but the second caught him.

"Energy backlash?" Zhao Jianguo sprang to his feet and took two steps forward.

Just then, a system prompt sounded in his mind: "Warning: mission difficulty exceeds expectations. Unknown energy fluctuation detected; the host's linked individual is losing bioelectric charge."

Zhao Jianguo halted his steps. He saw the gate's color deepening, turning from gold to black, its edges beginning to twist slightly, like paper scorched by fire. Though the triplets were still standing, their whole bodies trembled faintly and their breathing grew rapid.

"Hey! You three, don't push yourselves." Zhao Jianguo lowered his voice and shuffled forward half a step.

The eldest raised a hand to signal he was fine. He gritted his teeth and nodded toward the control console. There, a technician stared at the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard, muttering: "Signal normal……output stable……strange, why is the temperature curve spiking?"

Zhao Jianguo couldn't be bothered to wait for their reaction. He fixed his gaze on the system interface before him and tapped "View Details".

The page switched, displaying only a brief note: "Mission trigger condition: collective youth science ritual reaches consensus threshold. Current bound executors: the triplets. Risk level: undefined. Recommendation: immediately terminate the ritual process."

He frowned. This was the first time he had seen the system write "undefined".

The situation on stage worsened. The gate now resembled a black hole, the surrounding air slightly distorted. The triplets gripped each other's hands tightly, knuckles whitening. Their shadows on the floor, once joined, now had blurred, elongated edges, as if trying to detach from their bodies and dive into the gate.

"Hey!" Zhao Jianguo raised his voice, "Shut it down! Cut the power quickly!"

Several technicians finally noticed something was wrong. One lunged for the main control box, flung open the lid, and was about to pull a wire. But the instant his finger touched the switch, the lobby lights flashed three times and then all turned dark red. No alarm sounded, yet every electronic screen displayed the same line: "System self‑running—do not interfere."

"Who set this permission?" a bespectacled young man exclaimed, slamming the table.

Zhao Jianguo ignored their arguing. He fixed his stare on the gate and suddenly noticed a faint halo of light rising from the triplets' bodies, like vapor from evaporating sweat—but as soon as it rose, the gate sucked it away.

"System," he asked inwardly, "can we force a disconnection?"

No reply.

He tried again, still no response.

At that moment, the eldest suddenly lifted his head and glanced his way. The glance was slight, but Zhao Jianguo understood: stay back, you'd be useless even if you came over.

Indeed, it wouldn't help. Even if he rushed up and pulled them away, he couldn't change the fact that this thing was sucking energy. The question was, what did it want? The check‑in system normally just logs attendance and gives rewards—when had it ever done something like this?

He looked again at the mission interface. The formerly gray "Accept" button now glowed blood‑red.

"You want me to take this lousy mission just so they get drained?" Zhao Jianguo muttered under his breath.

Before he finished speaking, the gate abruptly stilled. All vibration, humming, and distortion ceased. The lobby grew so quiet the air‑conditioner's whisper could be heard. The triplets froze in place, eyes closed, chests rising and falling slowly.

A few seconds later, the gate's color faded back to blue, then completely extinguished, leaving an ordinary metal frame. No one spoke; even breathing softened.

"Is it over?" someone whispered.

"It should have… shut down automatically," another technician said, leaning in to check the equipment. "Weird, the logs show no anomaly; everything reads normal."

Zhao Jianguo snorted. Normal? People could barely stand and you call that normal?

He hurried onto the stage. The triplets sat collapsed on the floor—the eldest leaning on a support, panting; the second hugging his knees; the third flat out prone. He crouched, reached out to feel the eldest's forehead, and found it scorching hot.

"Can you three still talk?"

The eldest nodded, his voice rasping like sandpaper: "The gate… isn't the program we designed. It came alive on its own."

"What do you mean?"

"We just flipped the switch; what happens after… is out of our control," the second interjected. "It latched onto our energy and then… wanted more."

Zhao Jianguo glanced back at the now‑motionless gate frame, his heart sinking. He knew what "uncontrolled" meant. The check‑in system had glitched before, but at most it delayed rewards or sent a wrong hoe—never had it involved others.

This time was different.

He rose to his feet, about to call for medical staff, when his peripheral vision caught the system interface still there. The bloody red "Accept" button had vanished, replaced by a new prompt box:

"Energy resonance has been established. Subsequent missions will be based on this connection. Please prepare, host."

Zhao Jianguo stared at that line, motionless for a long while.

Below, someone began packing up equipment; a reporter raised a camera and headed toward the stage, while staff gathered around asking if the triplets should be sent to the hospital. The scene was chaotic, yet all he heard echoing in his ears was that one sentence.

"What does 'resonance' mean? Does it mean every future mission will drag in others? Or does it mean this gate never really closed, just waiting for the next chance?"

He lowered his gaze to his palm. The golden pattern from the previous bloodline verification had long faded, but now his palm felt a slight numbness, as if an electric current had passed through.

"Zhao Jianguo?" someone tapped his shoulder.

He turned to see a doctor in a white coat: "These three kids need to be sent to the hospital for observation right away. Are you the person in charge? You'll need to sign a form."

"I'm not the person in charge," he said. "I'm just a witness."

The doctor stared for a moment, wanting to say more, but Zhao Jianguo had already turned and walked toward the lower level. He moved through the crowd, his steps unhurried but never stopping.

When he reached the doorway, he paused, glanced back once.

The gate stood silently on the stage, its metallic surface reflecting the overhead light, cold and cold, like a tombstone.

He felt his pocket—his phone was still there. The screen was dark, but he knew that once he stepped out that door, he would receive the next call, possibly an award‑ceremony notice, or something else entirely.

But the scene from just now remained stuck in his mind.

Three youths stood in the light, having clearly completed the ritual yet feeling as if they'd been sliced; the gate had swallowed something without leaving a trace; the system coldly wrote "prepare," as if it would happen again.

He drew a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped outside.

Outside, the sun blazed. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, squinting toward the plaza ahead. A group of students lined up to enter, holding alliance badges, chatting and laughing.

No one knew what had just happened.

He walked a few steps forward and came to a stop.

Footsteps halted not far behind him.

He did not turn around.