Chapter 876: Chapter 876: The Invisible Devourer
Actually, I’ve realized that my greatest strength might not be being particularly good at fighting, nor saving the world, nor turning anything serious into a sitcom, not even feeding a Big Stomach Queen who can devour everything, along with a bunch of little girls who can destroy the heavens and the earth, but rather…
It’s being perpetually plagued by trouble yet never growing tired of it.
Alright, saying it like that weighs heavy on my conscience. Can I take out the “never growing tired of it”? With so much trouble every day, you have to be pretty uninspired to find joy in it! Anyway, I can’t find joy in it.
The less than seven seconds of fleeting information returned by Void Reconnaissance Ship No. 8355 has been analyzed repeatedly many tis. The permanent Xyrin Host at the Command Center has searched every pixel and syllable, including the faint noise that might be mixed in the background sound and the shadows reflected from certain reflective areas on the screen. She uses this simple yet effective clumsy thod to gather intelligence, hoping to find out what happened to Ship No. 8355 in the last second before it lost contact. Technicians have also examined the signal strength attenuation of this segnt of information during transmission, saying that such clues may help discover whether there was a high-information barrier such as a Void Barrier near the ship when the final ssage was sent. If there was a Void Barrier around the ship when it sent its last ssage, then even if the barrier was still in a dormant state (this type of trap won’t actively expose itself until the trapped prey initiates a Void Transmission), the ssage sent by the ship will undergo minute waveform distortion, which is an experience summarized by Imperial Soldiers from long years of warfare.
However, the chances of gaining useful intelligence from these attempts are very low. With current grasped situations, Void Reconnaissance Ship No. 8355 lost contact with the headquarters without any reaction, and before that, there was no sign of an enemy attack nearby, nor was the ship itself attacked when it disappeared. If they indeed lost contact due to an attack, then I can only say, the enemy is overwhelming.
Sandora ordered three Void Probes to be released; these probes have now entered the Void Domain and are fine-tuning their information characteristics to slowly approach the “location” where the ship lost contact. This process is sowhat similar to tuning a station on an old-fashioned radio; you cautiously turn the dial until its adjustable capacitor suddenly overlaps with a channel and a signal is received—to the traveler in the void, it’s akin to reaching the destination.
Despite possessing excellent concealnt capabilities for all types of probes, they still chose a very cautious speed to approach the “site of the accident,” maintaining a “distance” of one unit between each other. In the Void, the conventional understanding of distance is aningless; the distance between probes is actually the difference in their information representation. A one-unit difference guarantees they won’t all get ambushed simultaneously by the enemy, and can also ensure that if one probe is attacked, the other two probes still have a chance to relay the situation back.
However, as everyone held their breath waiting, the three probes passed through the “coordinates” where Void Reconnaissance Ship No. 8355 went missing one after another, returning with a report of nothing found when entering the disorderly wavebands of the Void.
“Target point is blank, no wreckage of the Void Reconnaissance Ship found, nor signs of battle erupting in the Void Domain,” a low-level officer responsible for tracking the probes reported loudly, “The probes are preparing for a second sniff…”
“Second sniff complete, target point remains blank, no wreckage of the Void Reconnaissance Ship found.”
“Such a big spaceship can just vanish into thin air?” I turned to look at Sandora with her frown, suddenly making a guess, “Could it be beaten so thoroughly that it was instantly voidified?”
“Impossible,” The reply ca not from the Queen, but from Bingdisi who suddenly appeared via transmission, this formidable female hooligan munching on crisps without a shred of awareness, while handing the remaining half bag of snacks to Sandora, “I know what your Void Reconnaissance Ships are like. They’re arguably the hardest thing to destroy among the regular spacecraft you’ve made. A small ship capable of free passage through the Void Domain, just thinking about it gives you a headache. It has no weapons, but it’s incredibly slippery, like a fish in the void; within a millisecond of facing attack, it can leap into a blank ‘coordinate’ to escape the battlefield. Also, there’s sothing known as…”
Sandora glanced at Bingdisi with an odd expression: “The Poly-state Core, that’s the escape module of the Void Reconnaissance Ship.”
“Right, the Poly-state Core, a weird thing that won’t get hurt in the first strike regardless of the type of attack because it’s said to be constantly under three mutually contradictory mathematical descriptions, ensuring no attack capable of causing direct harm can simultaneously destroy its three states,” To my surprise, Bingdisi can describe Imperial Ships so fluently despite often claiming to be helpless against Xyrin high-tech, “so in any situation where the Void Reconnaissance Ship is destroyed, at least the escape module is preserved.”
“So it’s invincible?” I opened my hands, with a sowhat perplexed expression, “Even the Eternal Mother Ship doesn’t have such a setup, right?”
Bingdisi cast a sideways glance: “Specialization is key, even soone as talented as you couldn’t catch Little Baobao!”
I laughed loudly at the sky, and suddenly rembered sothing: “Hey, aren’t you a mber of the Divine Race? How co you know so much about our ships?”
Bingdisi’s face suddenly changed, saying unnaturally: “Of course due to frequent contact during tis when causing trouble with Sandora…”
“Each ti she cos to my domain, she stirs up a pile of trouble,” Sandora changed her phrasing, “pushes to the edge, I then send the fleet to hunt her down.”
Hearing this, cold sweat dripped, listen, hunt her down—Bingdisi must have been such a public enemy back then, making her good sister even speak the term hunt down. Of course, we can also marvel at the high-end folks’ ways of connecting. Normally, college friends might at most unveil secrets yelling and eat two stolen buns, but these two girls, back then, were outright hunting each other?
After pondering for a while, I decisively refrained from delving into what scene it was when Sandora dispatched her fleet to hunt Bingdisi. I felt that if this question is pondered for long, anyone might end up infected with Pandora Virus.
“Bingdisi was quite right,” Sandora finished the crisps and the packaging in three or five troubles, a glow illumined her eyes, “The Void Reconnaissance Ship is an apex Special Service Ship that can survive in any extre situation, it couldn’t simply vanish unless intercepted by the Divine Race Regular Army or surrounded by a large Imperial Fleet… I feel like it wasn’t attacked but was eaten by sothing?”
Sandora uncertainly uttered three words, and I feel that she could connect to this term thanks to the half-bag of crisps just now.
Under Sandora’s suggestion, those three Void Probes again shuttled around the coordinates where Void Reconnaissance Ship No. 8355 vanished, but returned empty-handed many tis. We began pondering what clue we might have missed—alright, it’s Sandora and Bingdisi pondering, I thought for only a few minutes before realizing I’m really not cut out for high IQ stuff.
At this ti, Big Sister also arrived upon hearing the news, bringing along Pandora and Visca, who had filled themselves with military gear, appearing clunking like model Terminators right in front of everyone, each carrying a Cannon usable for repairing a cross-sea bridge, huffing and puffing dismantle-and-assemble.
They’ve determined that the Imperial Sentinel was hit by the enemy.
“The spaceship disappeared, but the probes found nothing?” Big Sister, understanding the situation in detail, began analyzing slowly with her ticulous thinking, then gradually said, “I have a simple thod.”
All of us watched her.
“Send another ship over,” Big Sister said earnestly, “Of course, this ti without any crew, find a reconnaissance ship just like the missing one, fly to the accident coordinates autonomously, and repeat every move that the previous ship made before losing contact. The three probes watch from a safe distance, ensuring, although we might not bring the first ship back, at least we can see how the ship disappeared.”
Sandora quickly nodded: “It’s definitely worth a try, especially recently PL-15 uploaded a lot of Revenge Fleet data, Taville improved many warships’ automatic control systems based on them, including two ‘Needle’-level Void Reconnaissance Ships soon to be in service, let’s send them.”
Thus, Big Sister’s “simple thod” gained unanimous approval from everyone, and sadly I discovered one thing: my brain might be beyond saving. Big Sister proposed a plan in fifteen seconds, while I had run off topic considering what to eat for dinner during my three-minute pondering earlier. Although this might an that I and Qianqian are truly a good match, should I continue drifting off course, my best fate in the future might just be finding a psychological ntor to live the rest of my life. Look, just a few seconds, what am I thinking now.
“Ah Jun, what’s wrong?” Big Sister asked curiously when she saw I hadn’t spoken for a while, “Is there sothing wrong with this plan?”
I thought for a mont: “Do you think a psychologist can cure muddle-headedness?”
Everyone: “…”
Sandora pinched hard on the side and ordered the second reconnaissance ship to depart imdiately.
Describing the efficiency of the reconnaissance ships as “ready at a mont’s notice” is most fitting; Sandora’s order had barely been given when the newly commissioned, highly automated spaceship had already entered the Void and approached the coordinates where the first ship had lost contact. However, due to the lack of crew, even the highest autonomy has its limits. This ship’s sole mission was to act as a pathfinder. Under the command of the shipboard host, it shut down its information correction engine, began reducing the output of its power module, and simultaneously released shipboard probes while activating various active and passive detection devices. So far, everything was very normal; three Void probes locked onto the ship at a safe “position” (this position is for ease of understanding; in fact, the three probes and the second ship do not have real distance between them; their observational situation is akin to us watching a live broadcast thousands of miles away on television—close in information but not geographically). The data shows it’s operating well.
The few of us, including the female hooligan Bingdisi, beca serious, holding our breath as we watched the returning images. The streamlined silver warship, resembling so kind of plant pod, opened its information shield that continuously repelled the surrounding Void powers’ assimilation effect, making it look as if it were enveloped in a constantly rippling water screen. Then, right before our eyes, it just disappeared into thin air…
Yes, it disappeared into thin air!
There were no ons, no attack, no jumping away, nor did a sudden Void rift drag it into another world. The reconnaissance ship vanished in an absolutely abnormal way, like a malfunctioning light bulb that flickered briefly before entirely rging into the endless darkness of the Void.
The three Void probes simultaneously sent back a piercing alarm sound, and the echoing hall erupted with the loud report from a low-level officer in charge of directing the probes: “Report, Sir! Target has disappeared, tracking failed!”
Big Sister, Sandora, Bingdisi, and I looked at each other, while not far away, Pandora Sisters, who had been disassembling a pile of arms, stopped what they were doing and coordinatedly put away their treasures: “Can’t fight, can’t find the enemy.”
“There’s certainly sothing there.”
Sandora crossed her arms, frowning as she watched the slow-motion video from before the second ship disappeared, “Shutdown the engines, release the probes, activate the radar… which step triggered the lurking trap there… the reconnaissance ship shouldn’t have been destroyed, nor does it look like it was transmitted to another world… neither ship sent back rescue signals, indicating sothing interrupted signal transmission…”
While Sandora was quietly murmuring her speculations, Big Sister had already thought of another matter. She looked at Bingdisi and asked with her trademark gentle yet irresistible voice: “You sent Observers there before, right?”
Bingdisi nodded: “Yes, went there for over a thousand years, nearly got listed as dying heroically on duty.”
I quickly interjected: “If I were Father God, I’d lock them in solitary confinent for a thousand years when facing such matters.”
Bingdisi imdiately nudged my arm: “That way, every house in Divine Realm would have to be turned into solitary confinent rooms—we’re not sensitive to ti; so seriously forget to co out, and the commander has to please them to co out eventually.”
I instantly yearned for such underlings; if Sicaro could trap himself in a solitary confinent room and forget to co out, imagine how much trouble it’d save . The conservatively estimated resources we’d save would be enough to turn Gao Village into Manhattan within three days…
Then Sandora and Big Sister simultaneously knocked a hand chop on the heads of Bingdisi and , using a tone special of disdain: “Be serious!”
The difference was that Sandora was harsh to Bingdisi, while Big Sister gave the kind of pampered look that is irresistible yet incredibly enjoyable. I’ve been seeing this look for twenty years and never get tired of it.
“Having circled the area for a thousand years without falling into the trap indicates that whatever lurks here doesn’t apply to the Divine Race,” Big Sister analyzed sharply, “and since the Void probes haven’t disappeared, very likely, only things with a certain Energy Intensity or size are devoured. Bingdisi, you’re the expert; after a world is destroyed, can it form such unseen pits?”
“You suspect that the world turned into a pit that devours Ghost Energy units after destruction?” Bingdisi understood Sister’s aning, “Never heard of it. The Divine Race and Xyrin Apostles wield different powers; if that world was destroyed by the Xyrin Fleet, only its Destroyer would know the situation…”
Saying this, we directed our gaze towards Visca, who was crouched on the ground drawing stick figures with chalk. Noticing our gaze, she imdiately raised her head and gave us an innocent smile.
“Of course, sotis even a Destroyer can be unclear.”
Bingdisi looked deflated.
“Let’s notify the Leaving World Garden,” I suggested after seeing everyone had fallen silent, expressing my final opinion, “it’s an unusual situation now, and conventional reconnaissance ans are probably useless.”
Everyone agreed—I finally made a constructive suggestion!
As a Law-level facility, the Leaving World Garden system is rarely used; in most cases, we only need its extrely powerful probing capability. As a core of the world fragnt that once nearly got assimilated by Void, the Leaving World Garden was “born” with the ability to easily penetrate the Void in information collection. Its observation equipnt comprises two parts: one lies at the center of Avalon, the broad circle plaza as the information operations terminal. The other part was directly reconstructed from the half-Voidified border “material” of Avalon’s predecessor, the world fragnt. This component remains permanently fixed in the Void, existing in an incomprehensible state as if reaching into the Void with countless tendrils or roots. Thanks to them, the Leaving World Garden faces virtually zero interference in listening to information from the depths of the Void.
Another function of the Leaving World Garden: rewriting universe laws for arbitrary targets across world boundaries in a limited manner, has only been used a few tis. Its ability is indeed potent, surpassing even the newly acquired “War Song” Planet Fortress (which is still under repairs, though I seriously doubt Taville plans to fix it before dismantling the thing completely). Unfortunately, the scope of its use is very limited: have you ever seen anyone pull out two dozen iron-fist rocket launchers mid street brawl?
Due to these reasons, the Leaving World Garden, a crucial piece of Imperial Military Equipnt, often enjoys even less fa than regular border troops. Many Servant Army mbers have only seen its na on enlistnt manuals, and the Leaving World Garden’s Manager, the one-ter-seven version of Artemis, has beco the idlest of all arsenal managers.
Thus, upon hearing the Leaving World Garden was about to activate, Artemis practically bounced into our view; her face was covered in small sticky notes, and amusingly, the Unicorn she rode also had several notes stuck on its face. You’d wonder what kind of cold humor could lead her to play poker with a mount and lose…
Curiosity piqued about the strangely eccentric daily lives of Avalon’s idle residents. (To be continued. If you enjoyed this work, feel free to visit Qidian (qidian) to vote for recomndation tickets, monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)
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