Chapter 581

"It's a good thing the hermit chose the Administrator, otherwise I wouldn't dare to imagine."

"Do you think you're smarter than the holder of the 'Balance'? Impossible. Behind this power, there must be some hidden big pit, and we have no way of knowing."

"Don't smear it; the successor of this power was chosen by the previous holder. They have already enjoyed the convenience brought by this power, borne the corresponding responsibilities, and understood the essence and meaning of this power. Why would you think they would choose someone completely unqualified when picking a successor?"

"But the Administrator's mental state is really not quite right."

……

Only a bedside lamp was on in the bedroom, and the bright light from the washroom was cut by the door frame, projecting neatly onto the pale yellow wall.

Then, the sound of liquid being poured came from inside, the cold liquid hitting the equally cold hard washbasin, making a crisp sound.

Along with it was the gurgling sound of bubbles invading along the bottle mouth, bursting and breaking in the bottle.

Even if the glass bottle body was placed gently, it was difficult to avoid making a crisp sound the moment it landed on the hard stone table.

What followed was the sound of flesh tearing, the shell breaking, and the contents flowing out, as well as a muffled groan of pain.

The Administrator panted heavily a few times, and then, as if encouraging himself, he took a sharp, deep breath; the invisible thing filled his lungs, and the fullness of expansion made him feel the freshness of life again.

Thus, similar sounds were made again.

Subsequently, the sensor faucet released water, and the columnar water flow hit the blade of the dagger, with some splashing everywhere and some rushing toward the deep sewer.

"It seems to be getting less painful... Is it my illusion?"

The Administrator washed the dagger, wiped it casually with a paper towel, and only then opened his eyes to the mirror.

The light returned, the whole world was clear again, and the unbearable soreness and squeezing sensation of the eyeballs were completely gone.

As long as he can ignore the bloodstains on his face that haven't dried yet, and this washroom that is no different from a crime scene, it's fine.

But this doesn't seem to be the original purpose of this ability... Forget it, I am the master of this power, the usage I developed is the right path...

The Administrator yawned again and sat back on the spacious big bed in his slippers.

The psychological counselor equipped for him by the Foundation always says his mental pressure has exceeded the critical point and suggests he change his environment, at least adjust the room layout, but he always feels he is fine.

There will be plenty of time for rest later; it's not like he's missing this little bit now.

If it weren't for not wanting to abuse his immortality, it wouldn't be impossible to refresh his physical state every day, but whether that would have any side effects is unknown.

……

"Ever since I got mentally ill, I feel my spirit is great!"

"'Balance': Is immortality meant to be used like this?"

"A bit scary... I'm really afraid the Administrator will suddenly say: 'Not in a good state today, wait a moment, I'll go die to refresh my state'."

"Sigh, the Foundation pulled the trigger 3,000 years ago, and the Administrator caught the bullet 3,000 years later and discovered the wonderful use of the bullet."

"But this mental state is definitely problematic, right? Ah? How can anyone be so ruthless to themselves? Not to mention changing eyes?"

"So the Administrator eventually became a supreme divinity..."

"Got it, except for some extremely special experiences and items, to become a supreme divinity, you must first go crazy."

……

Casually canceling the 5:30 wake-up alarm, the Administrator walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the world where it was still too early for sunrise.

What appeared in his eyes was not a sleeping world.

——Thousands of years ago, people's daily routines at least roughly followed the rule of working at sunrise and resting at sunset.

At the very least, at this point in time, the world was generally silent, quiet to the point where only his own breathing and heartbeat could be heard.

But now it's different; a brilliant three-dimensional neon city occupies his entire field of vision.

Skyscrapers are interspersed with bustling districts, and all kinds of spacecraft, hot air balloons, and flying cars shuttle between dazzling billboards and three-dimensional projection advertisements.

The advertisements above the sky are even more exaggerated; large, super-giant screens seem to want to sew together a fake sky.

Advertisements in this era have no taboos; things that weren't allowed to be sold openly even in the United States three thousand years ago—arms, organs, people—are placed in advertisements, displayed wantonly.

But the area where Site-01 is located is what is currently called the rich area; bounded by a certain street, the world on the other side is drunk and dreaming, while the world on this side is quiet and peaceful.

Although the Foundation is called the empire of the underground world, and the former Overseer Council was called thirteen emperors, that was just flattery from some financial groups and power holders.

When the Administrator mastered the Foundation and tried to make human civilization not too strange and absurd, various obstructions came one after another, either euphemistically, directly, warning, or comforting...

But no matter how they looked on the surface, they still couldn't exceed the models summarized by the Administrator.

What they want to say, in the final analysis, means one thing:

We respect you, the head of humanity, and acknowledge all the contributions and achievements the Foundation has made in fighting "anomalies";

But please focus on solving the "Black Moon"; the "daily" world has its own set of rules;

Everyone is for human civilization, and everyone is a member of human civilization; it is best for everyone to perform their duties and not overstep.

Thus, human civilization can still maintain a minimum balance, barely stabilizing on the cliff without falling directly.

But the gradually frequent mass annihilation events have made the future and hope a kind of metaphysical existence, out of reach.

3.0 also added a few heavy steps on the accelerator to the human civilization that was gradually losing control and sliding down.

In front of the "Black Moon," there is no difference between big shots and small characters; everyone can die for no reason at any time and anywhere.

Since the exposure of the mass annihilation event, enjoying the pleasure of the moment and indulging in the thrill of depravity have gradually become the mainstream fashion, eventually becoming commonplace.

But pure stimulation and sensory pleasure cannot fill the emptiness of the spiritual world.

Emerging from this are endless doomsday theories, conspiracy theories, judgment theories, and various doomsday cults.

Some claim to have received revelations from the true god, and that the spirit can only be reborn if the shell immersed in pleasure is abandoned.

Some shout that the annihilation event proves the unreliability of the flesh, and that only prosthetics and circuits can carry true thinking, allowing human civilization to continue.

Others say this world is fake, all an illusion, and that only when the self in this world dies can consciousness return to the real world.

The Administrator stood by the window, looking at the increasingly strange world outside.

He suddenly felt that his mental state was indeed not very good.

Perhaps he should listen to the doctor's advice and start by changing his environment.

——For example, moving underground, entering a bunker, and returning to the cave-dwelling life before it was famous.

Feeling inexplicably irritable, the Administrator turned around, let the artificial intelligence of Site-01 block the world outside the window, and replaced the floor-to-ceiling window with an ancient natural scroll.

He took a deep breath, squeezed out the irritability with the oxygen filling his chest, lungs, and blood, put on the clothes the Administrator should wear, and prepared to start today's work.