Chapter 58

Seeing that someone in the house was about to head to work, the Labrador turned its head, shifting from staring at both of them to focusing solely on Su Mingyao.

If it had been an ordinary dog, Su Mingyao would have shooed it away without a second thought—after all, it wasn’t his dog, so he could just wait for the owner to deal with it.

But the creature before him wasn’t an ordinary dog. It was a skeleton transformed into one. Su Mingyao had to think it over carefully.

For example, if he refused this skeleton dog’s request, would it end up hurting him?

Or if he turned it down, the dog might just grab the leash in its mouth and head out to play on its own, only for some passerby to discover that it wasn’t really a Labrador but a walking skeleton.

Would Luo Shang then have to restart the entire world…? If Su Mingyao went along instead, he could at least cover up any anomalies the skeleton dog might reveal.

Gazing at the skeleton dog in front of him, Su Mingyao took the leash despite his reluctance, letting out a sigh.

Who else could he blame but himself? He’d wronged Luo Shang in his previous life. This was just what he deserved.

~~~

While Su Mingyao was out walking the dog, Luo Shang touched down on the Moon’s surface and linked up with his two teammates from the Reincarnation Space.

Across the vast, desolate expanse of the Moon, separated by the dark void of vacuum, his two teammates stood gazing up at Earth.

“What a beautiful primitive planet.”

β-62 spoke first. She wore workman’s overalls and had the appearance of a short-haired woman.

“But with only one satellite, it’s a bit sparse.”

“Under the glow of Guard-1, Guard-2, and Guard-3, the six overlapping shadows cast by two people holding hands on the beach at dusk—that’s real romance,” β-62 sighed.

Her home planet had three satellites, so every night, three shadows would stretch across the ground for everyone.

“Romance is just relative to you,” Chen Guyi replied. He was dressed in ancient robes. “The Deputy Captain definitely wouldn’t agree, and at the Captain’s home, the moon isn’t even a planet to begin with.”

“Besides, before you were even born, those three satellites around your hometown had probably been strip-mined by those so-called companies already. That’s just a scene you’ve read about in books.”

“I remember the first time I visited your homeworld. Guard-1 had been hollowed out to half its size, with the remainder patched together using some company-made constant-mass junk. Guard-2 got turned into a giant telescope that no longer reflected sunlight. And the last one, Guard-3, became a playground for the ultra-rich…”

“Your planet’s atmosphere was choked with toxic chemical exhaust. I wanted to take you flying on my sword, but our poison resistance wasn’t up to snuff back then, so we scrapped the idea,” Chen Guyi recalled.

“Those fumes blanketed the sky so thick that even with my enhanced eyesight, I couldn’t pierce through to see the stars. You probably never caught a glimpse of them growing up either.”

“Yeah, true enough. But that doesn’t stop me from dreaming about it.”

β-62 stared quietly at Earth. She sat without a care on the Moon’s powdery regolith, propping her cheeks in her hands.

“Where I’m from, the poor don’t deserve to enjoy the moon,” β-62 said.

Chen Guyi flicked his sleeves back and sat down beside her.

“That’s why I went back to my original world. I slaughtered every last one of those company execs, roots and all, then hired someone to rebuild three whole planets and slot them right back into their old orbits,” β-62 continued.

“Next time you visit, we can soak up that three-satellite beach romance for ourselves.”

“That’s the power the Reincarnation Space gave me. If I’d turned down its invitation back then, I’d have croaked in some filthy gutter, never once laying eyes on a real ‘moon,’ let alone reaching out to shatter those behemoths I thought were unbeatable.”

“They crumbled at a touch. Those immortal rich bastards screamed at the exact same pitch as us regular folk. I figured there’d be some difference between poor trash like me and the elite, but nah—nothing at all.”

“You and the Captain both hail from higher planes. Hooking up with the Myriad Worlds is just Tuesday for you two. You could hole up in the native plane forever or hop through plane channels to other realms. Even with all the clan drama the Captain deals with, the resources and worlds at his fingertips dwarf anything the Deputy Captain or I could ever touch.”

“We all rag on the Reincarnation Space, but honestly? I’m grateful. It let me rewrite my destiny—and my whole world’s. I didn’t nuke those companies to play savior god for the downtrodden. I just wanted one look to see if those three moons were as romantic as the stories made them out to be,” β-62 said.

“I know,” Chen Guyi said helplessly.

“Among the entire team, I’m the one who understands the Deputy Captain’s feelings the best—his love-hate relationship with his Native World. He loves it because we ultimately originated from there, and he hates it because the events here forced us into the Reincarnation Space—even if it turned out to be a good thing,” β-62 said.

“The Deputy Captain is a rare good person. Back when we destroyed those companies, he stood by and watched me do it. If I’d been ambushed by those companies and gotten hurt by accident, the Deputy Captain would have helped me complete my wish.”

“So, if the Deputy Captain needs my help, I’ll do everything in my power to assist him,” β-62 said coldly.

“The Psionic Levels in this world are too low. It might be difficult for you—your power is too strong. Once you unleash it, you could shatter the entire world. If you can’t control the force properly, the Deputy Captain would have to repair and reshape it afterward, which would be a huge hassle. But for me, it’s no problem at all.”

The short-haired woman in work overalls extended her finger. A wisp of pale light coiled around it, extending tiny tendrils that gently rubbed against her fingertip.

“My ability is perfectly suited for this place.”

“I prepared it before coming here—I’ve named it the Pale World. It’s a custom fungal strain I’ve engineered through gene editing for humans.”

“On this planet, there’s a fungus called Ant Zombies. They parasitize ants, using the ants’ body components as nutrients, and control their actions, turning the ants into zombie-like existences.”

“The strain I’ve created can turn humans into hosts controlled by the fungus.”

“Through specific electrical stimulation, you can manipulate the fungus and thereby control the infected humans. At that point, the Deputy Captain can make them do whatever he wants, without relying on any fancy spells. You can even increase the voltage moderately to suppress the growth of the Pale World, preventing those people from dying too quickly until the Deputy Captain is done using them.”

“But you haven’t mentioned what happens after he’s done using them,” Chen Guyi said. He knew β-62 well—she was no less extreme than any Player when she went down that path.

“You named it the Pale World because these fungi won’t wither after detaching from human hosts. Instead, they’ll invade the entire world, covering every inch of the surface, turning Earth completely white. It’ll block all sunlight from reaching plants and make survival impossible for all creatures. From our current vantage point on the Moon, it would look like a pale planet—hence the name Pale World.”

“Aren’t you afraid of angering the Deputy Captain by using something like this on his world?” Chen Guyi asked.

“I asked him, and he has no intention of ever returning to that planet,” β-62 said indifferently. “Those people weren’t good to the Deputy Captain. They deserve to be wiped out.”

“Besides, some life forms would survive—like insects that feed on fungi or lichens that symbiose with them. And in a few thousand or tens of thousands of years, new life would evolve on this planet again. It’s just a reshuffle of the natural order.”

β-62 continued.

“Isn’t that great? Letting them die in a state of relative happiness. This world’s trajectory is heading toward an ending like my Cyberworld’s—that kind of future is better off avoided. It’s preferable to freeze them in this moment of happiness.”

“You’re getting extreme again…” Chen Guyi muttered to himself.

β-62’s stress response syndrome stemmed from her fear of her Cyberworld. She would go to great lengths to prevent any world from developing in that direction, but since she had no better way to solve the problem, she would destroy worlds instead.

Unlike Luo Shang’s straightforward brutality—painlessly killing off everyone in the world—she did the opposite. She manufactured apocalyptic disasters, plunging people into suffering and despair, hoping to witness the human qualities she longed to see.

If she could see the humans in this world demonstrate the traits she desired during their fight against the disaster, convincing her that this world had hope and wouldn’t turn into a Cyberworld…

Then she would halt the disaster and bestow upon this world a gift sufficient to elevate its dimension. But if not… the world would truly be destroyed.

Of course, this was β-62’s behavior before joining the team.

Once, β-62 was ravaging a certain world—unfortunately, it happened to be the one where Luo Shang and Ke Yanjin were vacationing. Sometimes Luo Shang chose worlds with development levels similar to his Native World for vacations, to reminisce about his ordinary life and drag Ke Yanjin along to experience it, sharing what his lifestyle had once been like.

Back then, to prevent Captain Ke Yanjin from slaughtering β-62 for interrupting his romantic getaway, Luo Shang had personally stepped in. He beat her until she saw the error of her ways and reshaped her twisted worldview.

Afterward, she joined Luo Shang’s squad as their medical support.

That thrashing made β-62 recognize her own shortcomings. She had wanted to take Luo Shang as her master, but he turned her down, claiming he had no interest in raising disciples.

Even so, β-62 still held Luo Shang in the highest regard. She was a die-hard member of the Luo Shang Party.

On the squad’s page in the Reincarnation Space, Captain Ke Yanjin might have appeared to be the central figure, but in truth, Luo Shang was the one who truly bound everyone together.

Without him, the entire squad would fall apart.

“Thanks, but I don’t need it. I can handle this myself.”

Logically speaking, sound couldn’t travel through a vacuum, yet the voice still rang clearly in Chen Guyi and β-62’s ears.

“Do you think my abilities aren’t up to the task?” Luo Shang looked at β-62 with an amused smile.

“And you’re slipping back into your old habits, aren’t you? Craving another beating?”

The Reincarnation Space had no customs about sparing women, children, or the elderly from violence.

Besides, β-62 only looked female on the outside. In essence, she had no gender—her body had been modified by the corporation in her home world, stripped of its femininity and turned asexual. That was one of the main reasons she despised them.

“No, that’s not it. I just…” β-62 replied at once, then bowed her head and trailed off.

“Senior Brother.” Chen Guyi gave a slight nod in respect.

In the past, Chen Guyi had always greeted Luo Shang with the formal sect salute, but Luo Shang had put a stop to it. He explained that he no longer followed the Emotionless Path and thus couldn’t abide by the sect’s rituals. From then on, Chen Guyi had settled for a simple nod.

“Don’t overthink it. Just treat this like a vacation. Welcome to my Native World,” Luo Shang said.

“Want to check out my home planet? It’s right down there.” He pointed toward Earth.

~~~

Su Mingyao walked along the road, gripping the dog leash, his palm slick with sweat that soaked into the strap.

His refined features and anxious expression drew stares from passersby. The Labrador bounded ahead with boundless energy, just like any real dog full of joy, making the whole scene look like Su Mingyao simply lacked the strength to rein in the oversized pup he was walking.

In truth, Su Mingyao could have controlled it easily. He just didn’t dare yank on the leash!