Chapter 1002

"Herta" Space Station.

"It's a bit like an exorcism ritual."

Asta recalled some records in folklore-related books.

Some ancient civilizations would regard patients with hysteria as possessed by demons, and then a respected person, or a full-time exorcist, would hold a ritual to exorcise demons.

Just like what Balcin did to that young man.

Thinking of the scene just seen, Asta felt uncomfortable; before today, she had never seen such a chaotic residence, let alone thought that such a place could be lived in.

Even the animal residence of the alien zoo was 100,000 times better than the room that person lived in.

"Maybe... this is the performance after being infected by an anti-meme monster?"

But if so, the situation is a bit subtle.

People who know about anti-meme entities will be erased and forgotten by the world; how did the Foundation know about this young man?

The water of memetics and anti-memetics seems to be much deeper than she imagined.

……

Accompanied by a creak of his knees, Balcin stood up with effort; he loosened his muscles, let out a long breath, and put the ophthalmoscope aside.

"You can think of this as meme chemotherapy," he said.

"The spiral symbol is a cognitive toxin; long-term exposure to it is very harmful and can be fatal."

"You have a chance to recover from its influence, but 'Red' cannot. Because you, my friend, are a wise and creative human, while 'Red' is..."

As he spoke, his thoughts drifted to that briefing.

At this moment, at least 100,000 innocent people around the world are suffering from poisoning, trapped in endless chaotic babble, making themselves and their families a mess.

"……is a pile of shit." The agent added the noun as a modifier.

But his words were not answered, and would not be answered.

The young man's soul and mind had just been severely damaged and were slowly recovering; this would take a long time, maybe half a day, maybe a whole day and night, or even longer.

Or maybe his life would be cut off here, then he could only say sorry, and then write a report and submit it.

Balcin picked up the electric soldering iron from the ground, walked to the computer desk, threw it into the garbage dump on the desktop, and then examined the computer hardware one by one, trying to find some useful clues, but found nothing.

He turned around and looked at this "nest" that pigs hate and dogs dislike.

Next to the computer desk was a camping bed, covered with a black and blue sleeping bag, with a layer of stains of unknown origin, probably some kind of body fluid.

Balcin cleaned up the sleeping bag, moved the young man to the camping bed, then opened the curtains and opened the window to ventilate.

Losing the obstructive curtains, the sunlight poured down like a dam, and the warmth and fresh air instantly purified the highly corrupted nest.

Balcin felt his throat much more comfortable; he turned around, lifted the fallen computer chair, moved it to the wall, and sat firmly on it.

In this position, he could monitor the patient in urgent need of care with just one eye.

He took out a personal terminal from his pocket, as well as a tangled ball of cheap headphone cables, and untied them patiently.

Balcin killed time in this way, while speaking slowly, possibly to the sleeping young man, or possibly just talking to himself to kill time.

"In fact, I didn't need to make a special trip."

"Do you know what the original plan we made after discovering you was—to use an orbital satellite to fire a laser cannon at your head."

"At that time, your house will be turned into ashes, and you will become a charred and deformed gelatinous object—this is our latest method of dealing with viral, single-guilt meme anomalies."

"We can perform tasks outside the distant safety boundary, without witnessing the details, without even blinking an eye, let alone understanding any specific situation."

"But I know deeply that we can do better. I checked the relevant materials, understood your situation, and then... I chose to take a risk."

"In the whole operation, I was just an insignificant character, but in an extremely intense meeting, I spoke to those high-level officials I had no right to talk to:"

"'The core of this event is a completely innocent child; he should not be treated like this.'"

A blurry shadow swept across the room, Balcin raised his eyes slightly and looked a little.

Whatever it was, it had left.

Balcin didn't think about it anymore.

It passed through the room in an instant, although the fleeting movement had disappeared, he didn't delve into its meaning.

"Then, I also added a sentence, 'If this method is really effective, it will save us a lot of money. 々｀'"

"I think this is probably what really touched their nerves. But anyway, I finally got permission."

"So, I chose this way that seems clumsy but actually tries to preserve your life, rather than simply and rudely turning you into atoms."

Balcin untied the headphone cable and put the first one into his left ear.

But what he heard was not a pleasant broadcast, but "Red's" eerie words.

"Your people must hate you very much."

Fuck!

Situation is wrong!

Balcin hurriedly dropped the things in his hand, took out his gun from his pocket, and prepared to empty the magazine on the spot.

But his movements were still a beat slow; "Red" had already stood up, grinning like a ventriloquist's puppet, and turned his head to look straight at him.

Inadvertently, the two's lines of sight met; "Red's" eyes opened like an abyss, reflecting the scene of the mind, and Balcin could see through directly to the other end of the deep.

In "Red's" deep eyes, Balcin saw the deep sea emerging from the bottomless abyss.

In a piece of dark chaos and disorder, space itself seemed to be twisting and folding, the colorful black constantly wriggling, full of colors that came alive.

The shadow that transcended the limits of human imagination was blurry; His appearance exceeded the limits of three-dimensional space; it was a flowing shadow, solidified light, and a broken and reorganized world.

He heard a voice, but it was not a sound wave received by the ears, but a crazy babble echoing directly in his consciousness, tearing Balcin's thinking and devouring his personality.

Balcin retreated violently, but seemed to forget that he was sitting on a chair, so he stumbled under his feet, fell backward from the chair, and fell on the floor full of stains.

The orange crystal wall protective shield in front of him swayed in the turmoil, as if expressing fear in its unique way because of the invisible thing that had just penetrated it.

It struggled to maintain its state of not being penetrated.

Then it flashed and disappeared.

……

"3125: Surprised? Unexpected?"

"Balcin: I was just simply performing a task, intending to treat a young man possessed by an anomaly, how did I run into a supreme divinity?"

"He is actually quite powerful; in the first moment of encountering the anti-meme supreme divinity, he was not directly erased... wait, no, why can the Foundation carry out tasks against 3125?"

"The Foundation must have some means, but this means is not completely safe, for example, someone will perform tasks without knowing the whole picture, and then flip the car."

"Perhaps the harm of 3125 has not yet fully appeared; now He has not yet fully invaded reality, and some information about Him can be spread, resulting in the Foundation making a completely wrong decision."

……

Before today, Balcin had never faced such a terrifying conceptual complex; he didn't know how to understand the other party, nor had he received corresponding training.

He had received basic practical memetics training, could perform protective measures such as spiral therapy, and could fight against those special attacks that could easily break through the mental defense lines of ordinary people...

But only limited to this.

Balcin was just a learner who had just glimpsed the door, not a combat master like Dr. Clef, nor a researcher like Dr. Gears.

The terrifying scene that appeared in his consciousness was far beyond his cognitive boundary in depth.

As a human, he was so small and so fragile.

He was like being in the body of an unfortunate investigator in Lovecraft's writing, facing the body of the Old Ones.

Balcin knew he was dead; he, a rookie who had just left the novice village, ran straight into the Demon King's castle without knowing it, trying to purify the Demon King who was destroying the world.

There was no reason to survive.

It was just that the specific moment of death was still suspenseful.

"Red" wore a mocking smile, slid his legs off the edge of the bed, stood up, and his gaze never left Balcin for a moment.

"Red and blue spiral light. How backward are you?"

The young man seemed to have grown a circle larger; his body fell into space, leaving a human-shaped black hole where a person should have been.

Now, Balcin could only see a black shadow, like a human-shaped black hole.

And he couldn't move at this moment; some unknown force nailed him, and the chilling numbness came from the ends of his hands, spreading toward the whole body.

This operation was a mistake from beginning to end!

He was so arrogant that he used a bottle of ink to color the whole ocean!

Realizing his naive stupidity and the extra pity, Balcin showed a self-deprecating smile.

But fortunately, in the Foundation, people like him were a minority, or rather, guys with similar ideas had almost died.

The fantastic and evil scene was vast and vicious, and the power of corrosion permeated every inch of space everywhere.

Those 100,000 infected people were just an opening prelude.