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american comcis _ tales of caltiveter _chapter_0115_part_02
Chapter 189
chapter 0115 part 2
Later, the ancestors of the Engineer race believed they had successfully created the "Deacon," but in reality, what they created was not the true Deacon, but an Alien similar in appearance to the Deacon. Then the ancestors of the Engineer race cut off the blood and flesh they thought belonged to the Deacon, found Earth, a planet suitable for Engineer survival, and began conducting experiments.
Of course, it wasn't just Earth; there were many, many other planets suitable for experiments, which were used by the Engineer race for experiments hundreds of thousands of years ago.
Their sole purpose was only one: to create the true Deacon, thereby solving the problem of racial reproduction.
"Sir, I just want to fulfill my father's dying wish. This concerns the survival of a race..."
After recounting the whole matter to Tang Song, David, who considered himself the son of the Engineer, spoke with a pitiful tone.
"I am useful to you, not just this Spaceship. My memory bank contains almost all the knowledge of the entire world. From now on, you will be my Master!"
"master... マスター..."
Tang Song smoked his cigar, listening to David call him Master in over a dozen languages.
"хозяин..." After saying Master in Russian, David uttered a cryptic syllable...
"AI, activate..."
*Crack*... Before David could finish speaking the Engineer race's language, a strike from the cane landed directly on his Heavenly Spirit.
His spine, capable of withstanding a thousand pounds, instantly snapped. David's entire head was directly caved into his chest cavity by the immense force.
"Trying to be clever, damn it!"
Tang Song retracted his cane, his gaze coldly sweeping over David's headless body.
"Master! How should we handle him?"
Amelia held Tang Song's arm, her eyes behind the veil looking at the gene modulation cabin that was still operating.
Tang Song's gaze turned to the gene modulation cabin, and he rubbed the beast-head handle of his cane.
"Since he's an employer, one must finish what one starts! Your Boss's credit is still worth money!"
Tang Song pinched Amelia's face, teasing her.
...............
"Boom!"
A huge muffled sound, like muffled thunder, accompanied by smoke and dust rising into the sky, spread for over ten miles.
Three icebreakers sped away from this Sea Area at full horsepower, avoiding the volcanic ash erupting into the sky.
On the deck of the research vessel, Charles Bishop Weyland, who looked no older than forty, leaned against the railing, watching the erupting volcanic ash in the distance with some regret.
If not for the sudden volcanic eruption, that Alien spaceship would have been enough to make Weyland Industries leap to become a world-class industrial group.
"What a pity!"
Charles Bishop Weyland touched his face, which had become decades younger. But thankfully, his long-desired gene modulation had finally succeeded.
Looking at the smooth skin of his hands, Charles Bishop Weyland thanked West from the bottom of his heart.
If West hadn't strongly advocated for Tang to come and help, let alone gene modulation, he might have been buried inside the spaceship entirely.
"Once we get back, it's time to push forward with the Sacred Shield Brotherhood's recommendation!"
What Charles Bishop Weyland didn't notice was that deep within his eyes, a trace of almost invisible golden light was flickering, faintly composed of countless tiny swastika-shaped lotus flowers.
This golden light was constantly emitting peaceful emotions, influencing Charles Bishop Weyland's judgment and imperceptibly changing his perception of a certain person.
Ultimately molding him into someone's shape.
...............
In the hinterland of Antarctica, there were faintly visible steel structures on a giant iceberg.
Through accumulated snow as thick as a person's waist, several snowmobiles sped across the Ice Surface.
When the snowmobiles reached the front of the glacier, the thick, frozen gate lifted directly, revealing the vast space within.
Several snowmobiles drove straight inside.
After parking, several riders brushed off the snow from their bodies. A man wearing a cotton coat and earflap hat walked over, rubbing his hands.
"Hey, Henry, did you figure it out? What was that vibration?"
Henry, the Big Beard, pulled off his snow-proof cloak and picked up a dry cloth nearby to wipe down his beloved vehicle.
In an environment like Antarctica, a snowmobile was far more important than a Hummer.
"It's the same as what the monitoring department detected. An undersea tremor caused by an Underground volcanic eruption. However, based on the distance and the intensity of the vibration, it won't have much influence on Target Zero!"
"That's good! If a major earthquake really happened and the iceberg freezing Target Zero shattered, I don't think we could outfly its big wings!"
The man joked to himself, half-seriously, "But even if it thaws from the ice, it might not even look at us. Compared to it, we're just too small!"
"Melon seeds are small, but I haven't seen you eat any less!" Henry glared at the hooded man irritably while wiping the accumulated snow from the tires.
"Come help quickly. I don't think Target Zero would mind having some melon seeds to satisfy its craving after breaking free. Take good care of my baby. If something really happens, we can run faster!"
"If it weren't for the twenty thousand US dollars in extra allowance a year, I wouldn't come to this godforsaken place. Minus forty degrees Celsius, this ghost place doesn't even have entertainment venues. I really miss bars, strip club dancers!"
The hooded man grumbled while wiping the snowmobile with a cloth.
"Just bear with it! Two more years, and we can rotate shifts and go back inland!"
Henry looked around to make sure no one was around, took out a small flat flask from his cotton coat, unscrewed the cap, and took a couple of swigs.
*Gasp gasp*...
The high-proof alcohol went down his throat like a burning line. Henry couldn't help but gasp and inhale the cold air deeply.
"Oh right! Don't you need to go back to the monitoring department to report the detection status?"
"I already reported it via radio on the way back!" Henry enjoyed the warm, tipsy feeling brought by the alcohol going down.
Hazily, he seemed to see a figure walk past him. He seemed to even turn back and smile at him.
Hmm? Henry rubbed his eyes. In this parking lot, besides his few colleagues and dozens of snowmobiles, where was anyone?
This liquor is good, the aftereffect is really strong! Henry took out the flask, patted it with satisfaction, and secretly took two more swigs.
The base was heavily guarded, with soldiers in cotton coats holding assault rifles visible everywhere.
There were no shoulder patches or any identifying marks, but judging from their behavior and demeanor, and their crisp, efficient steps, these were at least veterans with at least five years of service.
The base was built from top to bottom, and the security became stricter with each descending level. The elevator had dedicated iris scanners and identification cards.
Each elevator entrance was guarded by at least four armed guards with loaded weapons.
Even the base commander needed to pass through at least five security checks to enter the lowest level.
"Beep!"
After scanning his iris, fingerprint, and swiping his identification card, Lance, who was over fifty years old, finally reached the lowest level of the base.
Two sealed hatches slowly opened, and Lance walked out of the elevator accompanied by two guards.
A shadow like a line brazenly followed behind the three, hands behind its back, looking left and right as if sightseeing...
(end of chapter)
Later, the ancestors of the Engineer race believed they had successfully created the "Deacon," but in reality, what they created was not the true Deacon, but an Alien similar in appearance to the Deacon. Then the ancestors of the Engineer race cut off the blood and flesh they thought belonged to the Deacon, found Earth, a planet suitable for Engineer survival, and began conducting experiments.
Of course, it wasn't just Earth; there were many, many other planets suitable for experiments, which were used by the Engineer race for experiments hundreds of thousands of years ago.
Their sole purpose was only one: to create the true Deacon, thereby solving the problem of racial reproduction.
"Sir, I just want to fulfill my father's dying wish. This concerns the survival of a race..."
After recounting the whole matter to Tang Song, David, who considered himself the son of the Engineer, spoke with a pitiful tone.
"I am useful to you, not just this Spaceship. My memory bank contains almost all the knowledge of the entire world. From now on, you will be my Master!"
"master... マスター..."
Tang Song smoked his cigar, listening to David call him Master in over a dozen languages.
"хозяин..." After saying Master in Russian, David uttered a cryptic syllable...
"AI, activate..."
*Crack*... Before David could finish speaking the Engineer race's language, a strike from the cane landed directly on his Heavenly Spirit.
His spine, capable of withstanding a thousand pounds, instantly snapped. David's entire head was directly caved into his chest cavity by the immense force.
"Trying to be clever, damn it!"
Tang Song retracted his cane, his gaze coldly sweeping over David's headless body.
"Master! How should we handle him?"
Amelia held Tang Song's arm, her eyes behind the veil looking at the gene modulation cabin that was still operating.
Tang Song's gaze turned to the gene modulation cabin, and he rubbed the beast-head handle of his cane.
"Since he's an employer, one must finish what one starts! Your Boss's credit is still worth money!"
Tang Song pinched Amelia's face, teasing her.
...............
"Boom!"
A huge muffled sound, like muffled thunder, accompanied by smoke and dust rising into the sky, spread for over ten miles.
Three icebreakers sped away from this Sea Area at full horsepower, avoiding the volcanic ash erupting into the sky.
On the deck of the research vessel, Charles Bishop Weyland, who looked no older than forty, leaned against the railing, watching the erupting volcanic ash in the distance with some regret.
If not for the sudden volcanic eruption, that Alien spaceship would have been enough to make Weyland Industries leap to become a world-class industrial group.
"What a pity!"
Charles Bishop Weyland touched his face, which had become decades younger. But thankfully, his long-desired gene modulation had finally succeeded.
Looking at the smooth skin of his hands, Charles Bishop Weyland thanked West from the bottom of his heart.
If West hadn't strongly advocated for Tang to come and help, let alone gene modulation, he might have been buried inside the spaceship entirely.
"Once we get back, it's time to push forward with the Sacred Shield Brotherhood's recommendation!"
What Charles Bishop Weyland didn't notice was that deep within his eyes, a trace of almost invisible golden light was flickering, faintly composed of countless tiny swastika-shaped lotus flowers.
This golden light was constantly emitting peaceful emotions, influencing Charles Bishop Weyland's judgment and imperceptibly changing his perception of a certain person.
Ultimately molding him into someone's shape.
...............
In the hinterland of Antarctica, there were faintly visible steel structures on a giant iceberg.
Through accumulated snow as thick as a person's waist, several snowmobiles sped across the Ice Surface.
When the snowmobiles reached the front of the glacier, the thick, frozen gate lifted directly, revealing the vast space within.
Several snowmobiles drove straight inside.
After parking, several riders brushed off the snow from their bodies. A man wearing a cotton coat and earflap hat walked over, rubbing his hands.
"Hey, Henry, did you figure it out? What was that vibration?"
Henry, the Big Beard, pulled off his snow-proof cloak and picked up a dry cloth nearby to wipe down his beloved vehicle.
In an environment like Antarctica, a snowmobile was far more important than a Hummer.
"It's the same as what the monitoring department detected. An undersea tremor caused by an Underground volcanic eruption. However, based on the distance and the intensity of the vibration, it won't have much influence on Target Zero!"
"That's good! If a major earthquake really happened and the iceberg freezing Target Zero shattered, I don't think we could outfly its big wings!"
The man joked to himself, half-seriously, "But even if it thaws from the ice, it might not even look at us. Compared to it, we're just too small!"
"Melon seeds are small, but I haven't seen you eat any less!" Henry glared at the hooded man irritably while wiping the accumulated snow from the tires.
"Come help quickly. I don't think Target Zero would mind having some melon seeds to satisfy its craving after breaking free. Take good care of my baby. If something really happens, we can run faster!"
"If it weren't for the twenty thousand US dollars in extra allowance a year, I wouldn't come to this godforsaken place. Minus forty degrees Celsius, this ghost place doesn't even have entertainment venues. I really miss bars, strip club dancers!"
The hooded man grumbled while wiping the snowmobile with a cloth.
"Just bear with it! Two more years, and we can rotate shifts and go back inland!"
Henry looked around to make sure no one was around, took out a small flat flask from his cotton coat, unscrewed the cap, and took a couple of swigs.
*Gasp gasp*...
The high-proof alcohol went down his throat like a burning line. Henry couldn't help but gasp and inhale the cold air deeply.
"Oh right! Don't you need to go back to the monitoring department to report the detection status?"
"I already reported it via radio on the way back!" Henry enjoyed the warm, tipsy feeling brought by the alcohol going down.
Hazily, he seemed to see a figure walk past him. He seemed to even turn back and smile at him.
Hmm? Henry rubbed his eyes. In this parking lot, besides his few colleagues and dozens of snowmobiles, where was anyone?
This liquor is good, the aftereffect is really strong! Henry took out the flask, patted it with satisfaction, and secretly took two more swigs.
The base was heavily guarded, with soldiers in cotton coats holding assault rifles visible everywhere.
There were no shoulder patches or any identifying marks, but judging from their behavior and demeanor, and their crisp, efficient steps, these were at least veterans with at least five years of service.
The base was built from top to bottom, and the security became stricter with each descending level. The elevator had dedicated iris scanners and identification cards.
Each elevator entrance was guarded by at least four armed guards with loaded weapons.
Even the base commander needed to pass through at least five security checks to enter the lowest level.
"Beep!"
After scanning his iris, fingerprint, and swiping his identification card, Lance, who was over fifty years old, finally reached the lowest level of the base.
Two sealed hatches slowly opened, and Lance walked out of the elevator accompanied by two guards.
A shadow like a line brazenly followed behind the three, hands behind its back, looking left and right as if sightseeing...
(end of chapter)
