"Midnight Dad, is it really a space alien species?"
On the white floor, Hydra sat cross-legged, using a wrench to twist the screws on the safety door surface, and said in a low voice, "I always feel sothing isn’t right."
After drawing lots, the survivors were grouped for a new round: Pifu, Hydra, Su Nisheng;
Laughing God, dir;
Zhongli Mieing, Out of Control, Edith;
In principle, during the voting exile of Midnight Dad, the key roles played by Zhongli Mieing and Edith should not be in the sa group.
Otherwise, if both of them are space alien species, those grouped with them would be like persistent small black dots under the desk—dead for sure (booger).
"What do you an?"
Li Cheng was also turning the wrench, for so reason, the action of screwing always gave him a strange feeling of familiarity.
"Just imagine, if Midnight Dad really is a space alien species, why would he willingly face death?"
Hydra said, "Instead, he might suddenly attack and kill a nearby ordinary person, clearing obstacles for his companions—all the space alien species aim to disrupt the repair plan, right?"
"Maybe Midnight Dad is afraid of the Sentry Robots."
Su Nisheng said calmly, "After all, no matter how fast human-shaped creatures run, they can’t be faster than lightning."
"Hard to say," Li Cheng said casually, "If you tell Midnight Dad his girlfriend/lover is pregnant, he might reach 50% light speed and disappear in a flash."
Black kids generally have no dads, huh, what a hellish joke.
Su Nisheng’s character is indifferent, his sarcastic words only circled in his mind without being said out loud; he just quietly looked at Li Cheng and asked, "Have your personal mories recovered?"
"A bit. Before arriving at the Xinxiang Base, I seed to have run a factory specializing in toy making."
Li Cheng pointed at his helt, pondering, "Compared to personal mories, my common-sense mories have recovered faster and more extensively."
"I’ve also recalled so mories. Deep sea, hunting, long voyage, sothing like that."
Hydra said uncertainly, "It seems that as ti passes, the effect of the noisy kid on our mory cleansing is fading."
"That’s pretty good, at least when all repair tasks are completed, consciousness is uploaded, and then executed, we can be clear-headed ghosts."
Li Cheng said casually, twisting the wrench with force to remove the screws from the dical room.
On the upper level of Xinxiang Base are the dining room, armory, dical room, and entertainnt room.
The repair task for the dining room had been completed in the last round, and just now the trio repaired the distribution box in the armory, but unfortunately, the equipnt inside was locked in cabinets,
while the few left outside were bound with specific user information.
Things like electric batons, shock guns, high-frequency oscillating cutting knives, etc., couldn’t be activated, so they had to give up.
"This is the dical room? It’s quite..."
Li Cheng paused, unable to say the word "advanced."
Compared to other areas of Xinxiang Base, mostly paved with integrated flooring and installed with soft, sci-fi luminous bulbs, with devices whose principles are unknown yet impressive,
the dical room’s setup style is quite retro, with 90s-style red-green-yellow terrazzo on the floor and green paint on the walls, a thick layer of glass covering the solid wood desk,
under the glass were blurred photos, letters from relatives and friends, birth certificates, stamps, phone directories,
and on the glass were placed a calendar, a yellow wired desk lamp, and a red desk phone.
"This decor is older than ."
Li Cheng instinctively quipped, with a faint recollection of the necessary mories in his mind.
The glass-covered solid wood desk was a common folk tradition in China during the 1980s and 1990s, originating from the need to write with hard pens, along with the birth of the Luoyang float glass technology in 1971.
Indeed, from the files sandwiched under the glass, the desk itself and the entire dical room belonged to a Dr. Wang, born in 1990, who did combined undergraduate-master’s studies at a dostic dical school in 2008, earning master’s and doctoral degrees seven and ten years later, and joined the National Space dicine Research Center, assisting in China’s manned lunar landing plan in 2030,
in 2031, as an astronaut physician, he landed at the Moon’s permanent base codenad "Guanghan Palace." Eight years later, he beca an academician at the Academy of Sciences on the Moon.
In 2070, as the chief dical officer, he joined the interstellar colony spaceship "Chasing Stars," constructed by all of human civilization.
Throughout Dr. Wang’s life, during his youth, national developnt was still in preparation, and his family still used terrazzo floors and desk phones.
During his adulthood, national strength grew by leaps and bounds, and he personally set foot on the Moon in his middle age,
reaching his 80s, he could still join the grand interstellar colonization plan.
Hydra looked around the room, with the spacious hall containing only two dical-related devices, one a scanning imaging device similar to an X-ray machine,
and the other a single-bed-sized dical cabin with a glass cover and precision robotic arms.
The advanced technology and sci-fi style ford a stark contrast with the retro decor—especially since the desk’s glass interlayer still contained food tickets, labeled [1992 Shadong Province Jinan City Grain Bureau Food Tickets, Five City Pounds].
"Unbelievable."
Hydra couldn’t help but say, "An 80-year-long life can transition from food tickets to fully automated dical cabins and sub-light-speed spacecraft."
"It’s not surprising, the length of life can cover many so-called historical events that are perceived to be far apart."
Su Nisheng carefully observed the docunts under the glass interlayer and said calmly, "When China had the manned lunar landing in 2030, there might have still been elders in the country who had seen Emperor Guangxu."
"Indeed."
Li Cheng flipped through the calendar and said casually, "Zhang Xue Liang listened to Zhou Jielun’s songs;
the wife of modern Chinese diplomat Gu Weijun passed away in 2017 at the age of 112, born when Cixi and Guangxu were still alive and died after the United States’ Emperor Chuan had been in power for half a year;
the widow of a United States Civil War veteran died of COVID-19 in 2020;"
"Wait."
Even the usually calm and indifferent Su Nisheng couldn’t help but turn around, "The Civil War ended in 1865, right? That’s a 155-year gap with COVID-19."
"You may not know this,"
Li Cheng flipped page by page of the calendar, "A soldier enlisted during the final stage of the Civil War, in his late nineties, had no children, and wanted to leave his inheritance to the descendants of his comrades,
because the estate tax was high, he simply married a minor girl who was the descendant of a comrade—
The United States did not allow single n to adopt unrelated minors but permitted child marriage back then."
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