Chapter 1183: Chapter 41: Keyword Sentence Making_3
Zhao Yingjun blinked and looked at Lin Xian:
“I know you well, and I know you’d never trigger an Atomic Bomb. Would you ever detonate a bomb that levels a city and unleashes white light, just to kill one person or achieve a specific goal?”
“Absolutely not.”
Lin Xian shook his head:
“Even considering the trolley problem, success often cos with sacrifice, but I can’t imagine anyone with credentials so grand that an atomic bomb is the only way to kill them.”
“In my opinion, anyone who can be killed by an atomic bomb can also be killed by a simple handgun; and if soone can’t be killed by a handgun, they probably can’t be killed by an atomic bomb either… Humans are flesh and blood, after all. Whether as brilliant as Einstein or as strong as Tyson, in the face of firearms, the differences are negligible.”
Zhao Yingjun felt the logic was sound and sat upright on the couch, attempting to construct a sentence again:
“[An unknown disaster strikes—white light, explosions, and fire ripple across multiple tilines. Einstein in 1952, Lin Xian in an unnad ti, CC in another era, and Zhang Yuqian reading a newspaper—all vanish in the white light.]”
“That’s genuinely intriguing.”
Lin Xian nodded approvingly:
“It carries so profound ideas and aligns logically. But the white light Zhang Yuqian saw may not be the sa as the white light at 00:42 in my dream. In my dream at 00:42, the white light arrived at near-light speed, very quickly.”
“That’s why the mont I saw the white light, it signified the end of the world. There’s no ti to witness the fire and explosions caused by the white light, so I’m more inclined to think Zhang Yuqian’s white light is just ordinary—the white light from the mushroom cloud explosion, lacking my dream’s destructive force.”
“Otherwise, how could CC and Zhang Yuqian have had a chance to observe it? The white light at 00:42 instantly vaporizes everything—it doesn’t leave even a shred of opportunity to witness what happens a second after the light.”
Speaking.
Lin Xian rested his thumb at his jawline, delving deeper:
“Perhaps… we should consider the matter more deeply. Blue eyes inherently imply ti travel. So, ti travel is an implicit keyword… Although CC didn’t explicitly ntion it, we must factor it into our thinking.”
“Thus, blue-eyed Lin Xian can be split into two concepts: ti travel and Lin Xian unaffected by Space-Ti Exclusion.”
Zhao Yingjun cracked a smile:
“True enough. After all, you’ve lived through ti travel yourself, so you should have a particularly deep understanding of it.”
“Don’t just leave guessing here; join in and try it yourself.”
“Alright.”
Lin Xian closed his eyes:
“I’ll give it a shot.”
He pondered for several seconds.
Images flashed through his mind like a kaleidoscope, chaotic and seemingly unrelated…
1952—Henry Dawson painted an oil portrait of Einstein, whose regretful and despairing gaze sighed, “Does humanity even have a future?”
Zhang Yuqian spun with a cara on the lawn; Chu Anqing leaped from twenty thousand ters high, clutching the Space-Ti Particle Captor; CC danced beside a roaring bonfire, laughing and bidding goodnight;
The cold, ruthless long-haired man VV, whose gun skills were unmatched, hesitated before revealing the safe’s code to the young CC;
The elderly man on the Genius Club’s tiered platform, donning an Einstein mask, slowly rose and pointed skyward with an extended index finger, declaring his intent to create a brighter future for humanity;
The lonely and sorrowful Huang Que turned back with a smile in front of The Little rmaid Bronze Statue, only to transform into blue stardust in the next mont, weak and epheral. Her trembling left hand brushed her own face, pleading with her gaze, “Don’t leave , Yu Xi.”
Yu Xi, overwheld by a Space-Ti Assassin, let a faint blue glow flicker in her eyes as she shouted a heartbreaking “Father!” before charging at the assassin with radiant blue pupils, dissolving into a blue snowfall that blanketed Donghai City;
The Second Dreamland opened, revealing Big Face Cat’s father’s room, with walls and ceiling covered entirely with countless, intricately woven “42s”—each individual “42” ticulously spaced without a single overlapping stroke;
Space-Ti Particles shimred with blue electric sparks against an inky cosmic backdrop, flickering and bounding forward, arriving from remote Space-Ti Rifts, carrying energy foreign to this tiline and embodying the hope of traversing ti;
At 00:42 in the bathroom mirror, Lin Xian suddenly stood up, smiled faintly, gestured for silence with a finger, and handed a Genius Club invitation out through the mirror, gently placing it on the sink counter;
Lin Xian’s mind surged with all these images—real and unreal.
He slowly opened his eyes.
Staring at the chaotic, disconnected collection of keywords scrawled on the coffee table’s blank paper, he softly muttered:
“[Lin Xian traveled to 1952, his eyes turned blue; he found the man wearing the Einstein mask and attempted to unravel the mystery of the Millennium Stakes, thereby triggering a temporal explosion rivaling the mushroom cloud of an atomic bomb, vanishing into the white light…]”
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