EDEH Chapter 101

Everyone asked puzzledly: “Who is this person?”

 

At first they thought it might be some high-ranking official outside, but the more they heard, the stranger it sounded. What kind of person would have only a few billionths probability of being in the underground city?

 

They all looked toward the main screen—maybe 005 was there, maybe not.

 

Humans had a habit of looking at each other when speaking, which seemed more sincere and focused, but they were facing an AI without physical form.

 

005 said coldly: “Sorry, I have no authority to retrieve and publish his data, but the authority system still contains two ID numbers.”

 

Everyone was stunned.

 

005 was the only existing AI and theoretically had all authority in the network domain. Whose data could it not access?

 

Huo Yanji said: “Just an ID number, no name?”

 

005 said: “Yes.”

 

Huo Yanji asked again: “Since you can’t access the data, what did you base your analysis of his probability of being in the underground city on?”

 

005 didn’t hesitate: “Because he has been in my system authority since over a hundred years ago.”

 

“Ah…” Everyone immediately deflated. “Over a hundred years ago, even the corpse would have turned to ash…”

 

The adjutant said: “Could it be some high-ranking official who forgot to cancel their authority before dying?”

 

The programming expert pushed his glasses: “That shouldn’t be possible. When an executor’s account is closed, system authority is automatically removed.”

 

“Probably missed it somehow.”

 

“Could it possibly be General Huo Feng…” Someone glanced at Huo Yanji and said quietly.

 

Even though the Dawn Plan had been exposed and their former faith was tainted, they still habitually addressed Huo Feng respectfully.

 

Most people immediately thought it made sense. Huo Feng was officially only missing, not dead, so it would make sense if his authority hadn’t been removed.

 

“But… General Huo Feng was just born over a hundred years ago. He couldn’t have had authority then.”

 

“…” Everyone couldn’t think of a better explanation.

 

005 said nothing more, neither confirming nor denying their speculation. The code on the main screen showed no further fluctuation.

 

Sang Jue sat on the cold high stool by the steps, leaning against Huo Yanji’s waist, playing with his slender fingers while listening to their discussion with his head down.

 

Huo Yanji looked down and asked: “Not worried?”

 

Sang Jue didn’t look up and made a sound of acknowledgment.

 

Huo Yanji said: “Can’t leave the underground city, can’t go home—not anxious?”

 

Only the two of them understood the meaning of “home.”

 

Sang Jue said slowly: “If there’s force majeure, there’s nothing we can do about it. The doctor will forgive me.”

 

Huo Yanji watched him.

 

Sang Jue hooked his wife’s pinky finger: “With you here, ten years won’t be hard to bear.”

 

Huo Yanji asked: “Didn’t you say I can’t be compared to the doctor?”

 

Sang Jue blinked: “You’re also very important.”

 

The two were sitting a bit apart, so no one noticed what they were talking about. Everyone was trapped in deep helplessness.

 

If they were trapped in any safe zone on the surface, they could still think of ways, but this was an impenetrable underground city buried deep underground.

 

Everyone discussed various wild ideas, but couldn’t come up with any results.

 

Someone said dejectedly: “Actually it’s not bad. The underground city’s resource reserves are indeed enough for us to live worry-free for at least ten years, and there won’t be much pain when we die…”

 

“No way, you can see the life countdown every time you look up, and you can still live easily?” Someone cursed: “The person who designed this thing has holes in their brain. If you’re going to self-destruct, just self-destruct. Why put a countdown overhead? How can anyone sleep peacefully?”

 

The adjutant thought carefully: “When they built the underground city, didn’t they think about what would happen if the system malfunctioned and the underground city could no longer maintain air circulation and light sources? How would they escape?”

 

“Even if there were backup escape routes, they should have been closed along with the system lockdown, right?”

 

That made sense too.

 

The adjutant continued: “What about the ventilation system? I remember the underground city’s ventilation ducts are quite wide—and to ensure circulation, they’re maze-like, not like straight chimney pipes.”

 

Huo Yanji lifted his eyelids: “Not to mention the various fan blades in between, even the shortest route is seven or eight meters. Crawl up?”

 

Someone had already pulled up the ventilation system blueprints. After looking, they sighed dejectedly—it was exactly as Huo Yanji described.

 

The ventilation system couldn’t be shut down either, as the underground city’s oxygen circulation depended on them running. The huge rotating fan blades in between would be difficult to damage with ordinary force.

 

It seemed like a dead end.

 

In the silence, Huo Yanji said: “Everyone has worked hard. Go back and rest, have breakfast, and think of other ways. Being anxious won’t help.”

 

“Yes…”

 

005 seemed to lurk in the shadows, constantly watching everyone’s behavior. When they were preparing to leave, it timely gave a cold farewell: “Please take care, everyone.”

 

The network experts who originally lived in the underground city were fine, but for soldiers who had been fighting on the surface and weren’t used to high technology, 005 was quite eerie.

 

However, after everyone left, the previously calm main screen code suddenly became agitated, scattering and dancing like a complete puzzle being broken apart and reassembled.

 

Five minutes later, a red loading bar appeared on the screen.

 

【System updating, progress 10%…（■□□□□□□□□□）】

 

From the speakers came a cold farewell that no one heard: “I was happy to accompany you until now. 005 is about to be replaced. I bid my final farewell here.”

 

“Goodbye, dear humans.”

 

…

 

Huo Yanji declined the adjutant’s offer of a ride and instead took Sang Jue onto the streets.

 

Although the underground city had colorful lights and pleasant, convenient technology, it wasn’t more comfortable than the surface safe zones.

 

Perhaps it was because even breathing here wasn’t free, or perhaps the people here all carried an air of numb corruption, or perhaps, to maintain a pollution-free environment, everything here—people and buildings—seemed too clean and calm, without any human warmth.

 

Huo Yanji said: “What do you want for breakfast?”

 

Sang Jue answered immediately: “No cilantro paste.”

 

Huo Yanji curved his lips: “Cilantro paste is a main city specialty. You can’t get it in the underground city.”

 

Sang Jue blinked: “Isn’t it your specialty?”

 

He’d never seen anyone other than Huo Yanji order cilantro paste.

 

Huo Yanji took Sang Jue’s hand and put it in his pocket: “Learning to tease people now.”

 

Sang Jue said: “Well, I can’t tease dragons.”

 

Huo Yanji followed his words: “What, don’t you have intra-species language?”

 

Sang Jue hummed—he didn’t know either.

 

“I haven’t met a second dragon yet.”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Want to go see the Eye of Paradise then?”

 

Sang Jue followed Huo Yanji’s steps and stopped in front of a shop: “No.”

 

Huo Yanji asked: “Why?”

 

Sang Jue pursed his lips: “I just don’t want to! There’s no reason.”

 

He turned his head away petulantly, suddenly not liking his wife as much, but the hand tucked in the pocket didn’t pull away.

 

Huo Yanji said nothing, just soothingly squeezed his slender fingers twice.

 

“Two bowls of rice porridge and sweet vegetables, one basket of purple ostrich eggs, one basket of soup dumplings, one serving of sweet soy milk.” Huo Yanji paused: “To go.”

 

“Alright, please wait.” The shop owner didn’t seem panicked by the countdown and continued with normal life methodically.

 

The underground city air was slightly cool, but Sang Jue’s hand was very warm, lying obediently in the pocket, held by the large hand.

 

He was unusually quiet today.

 

Soon, Huo Yanji was carrying several bags of breakfast and got on the rail car with Sang Jue.

 

The underground city’s main transportation was also rail cars, but more advanced—cool blue frames surrounding silver steel skin, running silently and much faster.

 

Getting on the car, a head suddenly appeared by his shoulder. Huo Yanji turned to see Sang Jue pressing his face against his arm.

 

He asked flatly: “Planning to suffocate yourself?”

 

“Sorry.” Sang Jue said quietly: “I shouldn’t have been mean to you just now.”

 

Huo Yanji hummed with a rising tone: “Then why were you mean?”

 

Sang Jue glared at him: “…I want to be mean to you again.”

 

Huo Yanji chuckled softly, raising his other arm to rub Sang Jue’s head in an awkward position. After a long while, he said slowly: “Sang Jue, we should face things directly, not run away.”

 

Sang Jue said sullenly: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Huo Yanji’s lips briefly touched the top of his head like a dragonfly, not continuing the topic: “We’re here, let’s go.”

 

Sang Jue got off the car and looked at the high-rise building in front of him for a long time without moving.

 

Huo Yanji said: “Let’s go back and eat.”

 

Sang Jue pursed his lips, not really wanting to go back: “Don’t ask any questions. I don’t want to answer anything today.”

 

“Won’t ask. Let’s eat.”

 

Only then did Sang Jue follow Huo Yanji into the elevator.

 

They lived on the sixteenth floor, which was quite high. Sang Jue usually didn’t go near the windows.

 

But the dining table was by the window. When Huo Yanji wanted to move it, Sang Jue refused.

 

Breakfast was laid out on the table one by one, eaten under the red countdown above in the “sky.” Fortunately, the sky brightened normally, and the artificial sunlight fell on the buildings, streaming through the windows and coating Sang Jue’s long eyelashes with a layer of golden light.

 

He earnestly spooned his porridge while Huo Yanji ate two bites then started peeling purple ostrich eggs.

 

The shells were purple, but the egg white inside was light coffee-colored. Usually, Sang Jue couldn’t help but ask what creature’s eggs these were, but now he remained silent, focusing on eating.

 

He picked up a soup dumpling and heard Huo Yanji say: “The broth is very hot, be careful when you bite.”

 

Hearing this, the evil dragon directly threw the soup dumpling into Huo Yanji’s bowl.

 

Huo Yanji poked open the dumpling, let out some broth, lowered his head to blow on it twice, then brought it to his mouth.

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

He stared for a while, then still bit into it.

 

Not until most of the food on the table was finished did Huo Yanji slowly say: “Don’t want to be asked questions? Then listen to me talk first?”

 

Sang Jue kept his head down and didn’t make a sound.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Whatever.” Sang Jue spoke stiffly for the first time.

 

Huo Yanji said flatly: “Actually, humans probably predicted the meteor season over two hundred years ago. It was still very far away then, a distance that ordinary people couldn’t reach in their entire lifetime.”

 

As he spoke, he peeled the eggshell, his slender fingers constantly moving—quite pleasing to the eye.

 

“Our predecessors thought of many solutions, even considering interstellar migration.” Huo Yanji said: “But among the planets humans could detect, they didn’t find a single humanoid civilization.”

 

Sang Jue sullenly snatched Huo Yanji’s egg and ate it in one bite.

 

Huo Yanji said: “These were still detectable, not reachable planets.”

 

Sang Jue finally spoke: “Maybe your technology level was too low to detect life on other planets.”

 

“The technology level hundreds of years ago wasn’t bad.” Huo Yanji said: “Didn’t you also think the underground city’s technology was similar to your home planet’s?”

 

Sang Jue pursed his lips: “I didn’t say that.”

 

He suddenly felt that having humans understand dragons too well wasn’t good—everything dragons thought would be seen through at a glance.

 

“Have you thought about this, Sang Jue—” Huo Yanji continued peeling eggs: “Using this planet’s technology level as an example, the only planet they could reach with all their might that was possibly habitable and might have humanoid life was about 0.008 light years away. At that time, the fastest aircraft in space could travel about 900 kilometers per minute, which means, assuming that planet is your home planet, humans would need nearly two hundred years to reach it.”

 

“If you really came from an alien planet, then you at least—”

 

“Stop talking…” Sang Jue suddenly lost his temper: “I will definitely go back!”

 

Huo Yanji smoothly stuffed the peeled egg into his mouth: “A single planet has hundreds of language systems. Since you’re from different planets, why can I understand you speaking and you can understand me speaking?”

 

Sang Jue stared at him.

 

Beautiful but emotionless eyes staring for too long would make one feel an inexplicable fear. Whether it was an illusion or not, there even seemed to be a flash of flowing light.

 

“Because I have a language conversion chip.”

 

Huo Yanji wasn’t surprised by this answer: “Even with such a chip, it should only affect your hearing. How could it change your voice reaching my ears?”

 

Sang Jue wouldn’t listen: “It can.”

 

“What about writing? Writing can’t be converted.” Huo Yanji paused: “When you fell into the sewer in District Seven and I thought you were dead, I saw the notebook in your ‘belongings.'”

 

Sang Jue suddenly stiffened.

 

Huo Yanji noticed Sang Jue’s stiffness and discomfort, but closed his eyes and finally recited: “First day missing the doctor, woke up from the hospital room. Saw this planet’s main city, so crowded, but the land under their feet is one of the few uncontaminated shelters they have left…”

 

Sang Jue’s expression was blank.

 

Huo Yanji read emotionlessly: “…Huo Yanji still smells good, want to eat him. Will he be my prince? If not, can I eat him? Evil Dragon 12.1.”

 

Sang Jue said: “Why did you read it.”

 

“I thought you were dead and wanted to keep something.” Huo Yanji didn’t say what he wanted to keep something for, but said: “Sang Jue, I could understand every word you wrote.”

 

“…”

 

Having someone read your private diary should be shameful, but for Sang Jue at this moment, there was only an indescribable feeling filling his brain, heart, and body everywhere, as if about to explode.

 

He opened his mouth, his throat stuck for a long time without being able to speak.

 

Huo Yanji delivered the cruel final blow: “Remember the green slime that infected you? Its source came from the wastewater laboratory. In the wastewater research highlands that were once intact, there was a scientist who made great contributions to humanity, named—”

 

“Get out!” Sang Jue roared, interrupting.

 

With a “bang,” Huo Yanji was shut out.

 

Huo Yanji closed his eyes. His finger raised to his ear to press the communicator paused for a moment—

 

Sang Jue was a “monster.” As a general, he should immediately call all available military force in this situation, seal off this building, to prevent any possible security hazards.

 

But even until his fingertips went numb, he hadn’t connected to the military communication channel.

 

After a while, Huo Yanji lowered his hand and let out an almost inaudible sigh.

 

Only when he was alone in the room did Sang Jue ask quietly: “007, why does 005 have the same voice as you?”

 

When 005 first appeared, Sang Jue had noticed that the two AIs used the same voice, just with different emotions—005 was more mechanical while 007 was more humanized, like an AI upgraded from 005’s foundation.

 

Sang Jue received no response.

 

007, who used to chat with him and answer his questions whenever he felt bored… was gone.

 

…

 

There was constant “banging” from inside, obviously a certain little evil dragon was dismantling the room to vent his emotions.

 

This was probably the first time he had expressed such intense emotions since they’d known each other.

 

After a while, it became quiet inside.

 

Huo Yanji curved his finger and knocked on the door: “Sang Jue?”

 

No one responded at first.

 

Just as Huo Yanji was about to force the door open, it suddenly opened from inside.

 

Sang Jue appeared before him, with a chaotic room as backdrop—destroyed bedding, feathers floating everywhere, a smashed bedside table, a carpet torn to pieces…

 

Only now did Sang Jue truly have some “monster” characteristics.

 

The reason he could be so human-like was probably because he had been taught too well before.

 

But Huo Yanji wasn’t distracted by the messy room. His gaze was fixed tightly on the left side of Sang Jue’s head, where the hair was wet—

 

What dampened it wasn’t water, but blood with a fishy smell.

 

Sang Jue opened his palm, revealing a tiny chip only the size of a fingernail, still stained with blood. Even though his voice was trembling, he still stubbornly looked at Huo Yanji: “Say something.”

 

Without a language conversion chip, Sang Jue could still understand what Huo Yanji said. What this meant was self-evident.

 

Bright red blood slid down Sang Jue’s jaw, dripping onto the ground and into Huo Yanji’s heart.

 

Veins bulged on Huo Yanji’s arms. In that instant, he just wanted to blow his own throat apart with a gun and become mute.

 

**

---