Chapter 1046

Subconsciously, Adam intended to tap his temples to alleviate the impending migraine.

But he waited for a while, and the migraine did not arrive; no anger rose in his heart, he felt no anxiety, just like at Site-41.

He looked up; the sky was a normal azure blue, with layered clouds drifting, and a normal sun was obscured by the clouds, not that terrifying sun that looked like an eye socket.

"I am..." Adam couldn't help but feel some doubt.

Suddenly, a breeze swept by quietly, carrying the unique freshness and tranquility from deep within the forest, and even faintly revealing an alluring sweet scent of food.

Only then did Adam notice that laughter had been coming from afar, and he hadn't reacted at all.

He turned around, followed the source of the aroma and sound, and after walking only a few steps, he found his target.

It was a beautiful large house, with a garden behind it, and tall coniferous forests surrounding a neat lawn.

A circle of chairs was set up on the lawn, with twenty-five men and women sitting or standing, chatting in small groups, holding wine glasses and burgers, their faces filled with relaxed and happy smiles.

Beside the grill, people were queuing in an orderly fashion, looking forward to the food coming out.

On the grill, food sizzled, and waves of alluring aroma mixed with the high-rising white smoke, permeating the entire air.

Everything appeared so harmonious and beautiful, as if no ominous thing could disturb this peaceful paradise.

Adam stood in the forest, gazing for a long time.

This scene was something he couldn't find even in his dreams; day after day, he was tortured by rage and violence into a nervous breakdown, and even his dreams were deep red, with nowhere to escape.

"How could this possibly be real?" he whispered to himself.

Everything was too beautiful, too abrupt; when the entire world was being eroded by 3125, who else could be laughing and having a barbecue party?

Why did such an illusion appear? Why would the illusion present this scene? Did this scene have any unique meaning? Or was it hiding a special risk?

Adam felt some panic.

He tried to remain calm, his hands subconsciously clenching into fists.

However, in this almost instinctive reaction, Adam detected a trace of abnormality—his left hand wasn't as empty, with neural feedback from two more fingers.

Adam raised his left hand, his right hand continuously pinching the intact fingers; they were no longer bare wooden stumps, and they had a familiar tactile sensation.

He couldn't help but gasp, almost shedding tears.

At this moment, a man walked over, extending his right hand:

"You must be Adam Wheeler."

"Nice to meet you, I am Bartholomew Hughes."

Dr. Hughes... Adam straightened his back, his gaze carrying a hint of curiosity as he looked at this savior who had been entrusted with infinite hope.

He was not tall, short and thin, looking about fifty years old, with a head of wild, unruly gray hair, and a pair of thick glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, like a little old man.

His left hand held a bottle of iced beer, the bottle wet and full of cold condensation droplets.

Adam subconsciously raised his hand, responding to Dr. Hughes's greeting.

After the etiquette, Dr. Hughes introduced:

"I work at the Foundation, responsible for containment architecture, biometrics, etc., handling some strange and bizarre tasks."

Adam: "Dr. Hughes... I am looking for you."

"It seems you have found me," Dr. Hughes responded with a smile, "Well done."

"... Where is this place?" Adam asked in confusion.

"I don't think you remember either," Dr. Hughes nodded, not feeling surprised.

He turned sideways, looking at the people holding the barbecue party on the lawn.

They were illusory images in memory, just like 3D animated characters, acting only according to the trajectory of memory, without subjective will.

Just like now, they were still chatting, but it was only superficial, the content they spoke was disjointed, with very few coherent sentences.

More content was simply lip-syncing, repeating syllables without information, playing the role of living people.

Naturally, they would not react to Adam's appearance, nor would they notice that Dr. Hughes had left his seat.

In fact, if Adam were to walk further away, he would discover that only this small area was "real."

The further away from here, the higher the degree of distortion, and some places were just textures, just like games often do.

"This is the place where we first met; at that time, the time was short, we only spoke a few words, and I can't remember what I said to you then..."

"... Actually, I don't have much of an impression of you either, just a vague outline... no offense intended."

"But I remember this barbecue; I clearly remember seeing you at this barbecue."

"So, I think this is a relatively consensual scene, convenient for us to unfold subsequent conversations."

Adam tried hard to recall, but whether it was this scene or the people around, they were all strangers to him.

He watched the relaxed and happy barbecue party quietly for a few minutes before shifting his gaze back to Dr. Hughes:

"Is this your memory?"

Dr. Hughes nodded: "Yes, come over, let's talk."

Dr. Hughes led Adam across the lawn and chose a pair of chairs in the sunlight.

Dr. Hughes rested his elbows on his knees, pondered for a moment, and then told Adam in detail.

"Adam, you don't know what you are actually pursuing. It is something called the 'Seed of the Anti-Memetic'."

"Regrettably, you are not the suitable candidate."

"If you truly possessed it, you would naturally know; it's impossible not to know."

"You would feel like being electrocuted by it, driven by the high-level ideals it represents, making you full of motivation when you wake up every morning."

"I thought it was what guided you here, but now it seems that is not the case."

Adam fell silent; he maintained his original posture, considering for a while without moving, and only muttered after a dozen seconds:

"Sorry... I didn't know I was supposed to bring an idea to find you."

"There was no way for you to know," Dr. Hughes responded almost immediately, perhaps to comfort, perhaps not.

He leaned back in his chair, changed to a relaxed posture, placed the cold beer on his thigh, feeling the rare coolness and the human body.

"Outside this bunker, no one knows this, including the former me; it wasn't until I was sealed inside that I figured this out."

"Such situations are common in the Foundation—we build plans, then accidents happen, and the plans fall apart."

"Under immense pressure, we are often forced to stimulate unexpected creativity."

Adam took a deep breath, nodded, indicating he understood what Dr. Hughes meant.

"Alright, then where is the thing you mentioned?"

"I hope it's not too far away; I don't want to walk all the way back to Site-41."

"But if it really is at Site-41, I can only make another trip, as long as you can wait that long."

While speaking, he straightened his back, seemingly to prove his determination, or seemingly to convince himself.

"You can't do it," Dr. Hughes shook his head.

"Even if things were really that simple, even if I had a place where I could take you directly to get it—just like ordering takeout—you couldn't carry an idea in this way."

"You have never possessed such ability, because you have never believed in, nor have you truly needed, this idea—you are not the suitable candidate."

Adam listened to Dr. Hughes's argument, a helpless expression appearing on his face:

"... Then what can we do?"

· ····· Seeking flowers ····· ········

This is like a company employee who goes through all kinds of hardships to make a plan, submits the report to the boss, hoping to get a "we can win."

Only to get a "this plan won't work" from the boss.

Does he have to travel the world, collect survivors one by one, spend a few decades, bring the assembled Demon King-slaying hero team back to Site-167, and then have Dr. Hughes judge their thinking?

—If he hasn't died of old age by then.

Dr. Hughes's gaze turned to the barbecue party, meaningfully watching a woman in the crowd.

She had her back to them, chatting cordially with the people waiting for food, clearly the focus of the crowd's attention.

Adam followed Dr. Hughes's gaze, softly reciting her name: "Marion..."

"She possesses such ability," Dr. Hughes affirmed.

"To be precise, she is not the only one."

"In this world, there is an incredibly variable phase space of possibilities, and millions of different ideas mastered by people could come in handy."

"And she was once one of them."

"Once was..." Adam repeated.

"Yes. She is dead."

Dr. Hughes turned to stare at Adam, hesitated for a moment, and then took a sip of beer, seemingly looking for the right words.

He was not a medical doctor, and he didn't have anything that could be called a "clinical attitude." ===== CHAPTER 1048 =====