Chapter One Hundred: The Simulated Paradise

Chapter One Hundred: The Simulated Paradise

Underworld System, Academy of Death Song.

Within the grand hall, Carl was writing something, his hood obscuring his face and concealing the excitement that flickered across his expression. As his hand moved faster and faster over the parchment, Snow walked in from outside. Upon seeing Carl so engrossed in his work, Snow halted his steps, choosing to stand quietly nearby and wait for the Reaper to finish. This had become his habit; he never wished to disturb Carl when he was engrossed in his great research, for to do so would fill him with shame.

After about ten minutes, Carl finally set down his quill, lifting his face—still tinged with joy—to glance at Snow and ask, “What is it, Snow?”

Snow was momentarily stunned upon seeing Carl’s expression; it had been nearly thirty thousand years since he last saw Carl show any emotion, except when confronted by the Demon Queen Morgana. Otherwise, Carl’s face was perpetually impassive.

Suppressing his own excitement, Snow replied, “My Lord, King Huaye of the Celestial Palace wishes to speak with you.”

Carl’s excitement faded instantly at the mention of Huaye’s name, his demeanor returning to calm. He waved a hand at Snow, saying, “Connect him.”

Snow noticed this subtle shift and felt a surge of resentment towards Huaye. How dare he ruin my Lord’s first good mood in thirty thousand years? Damn him.

Nevertheless, he dutifully connected the communication in the hall and quietly withdrew.

Once the connection was established, Carl remained silent, waiting for Huaye to speak first.

“Carl, is your Void Engine reliable? The Power of the Galaxy can challenge me in the arena now—he’s just a child!” Huaye demanded bluntly, unconcerned whether Carl was displeased.

“King of the Celestial Palace, the Void Engine is a creation that transcends the known universe. You have possessed the Void Engine for less time than the Power of the Galaxy, so...” Carl answered evenly, his expression unchanged.

“I get it—I haven’t mastered it yet. Still, I feel slighted. The dignity of the King of the Celestial Palace has been tarnished. You owe me,” Huaye declared, first with realization, then shifting to unreasonable insistence.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Please, tell me what you need.” Carl picked up his quill again, tapping it lightly on the desk.

“How about this—compensate me with another Void Engine. I know it’s a rare item, but it doesn’t need to be too powerful—just stronger than the one you gave to Devourer.”

Huaye spoke after careful consideration. If the Void Engine were too precious, Carl might refuse, or if he did give it, would Huaye remain king, or would Sumali? Even if Sumali was loyal, it would be troublesome to command an overly powerful subordinate. This arrangement was just right; then Sumali could eliminate Devourer and rule over the Gluttons—a perfect outcome.

Devourer’s Void Engine was mediocre, and in Huaye’s eyes, it was something he could annihilate with a wave of his hand.

“Very well. But I must remind Your Majesty that the Void Engine requires a robust body.” Carl pondered briefly before replying.

“No problem. You can strengthen it as needed. I’ll send more warriors to protect you,” Huaye replied carelessly, making empty promises without a hint of shame.

“Then I thank Your Majesty. Let the chosen one come directly.” With that, Carl waved his hand and disconnected the call. Aside from Morgana, there was no one left in the known universe whom Carl cared about.

Thinking of Morgana, Carl felt a stirring desire to share his happiness. He couldn’t help but use the Grand Clock to hack into Morgana’s communication channel.

“Liang Bing,” Carl called gently.

“For heaven’s sake, how many times have I told you not to hack my channel password!” Morgana snapped, banging her fist on the table upon hearing Carl’s voice.

“Liang Bing, I’ve made a new discovery.” Carl’s tone remained unchanged, unaffected by Morgana’s irritation, and he continued gently.

“A discovery? What kind? Ultimate Fear?” Morgana’s anger vanished instantly, and she asked with grave attention.

“No, not quite. I’ve been studying quantum manipulation and uncovered something new,” Carl explained.

“Yun Yang? What did you discover?” Morgana asked in confusion.

“When I exiled him last time, I found traces of a unique energy on him—very unique, no, extremely unique.”

Carl’s voice rose slightly, though his tone betrayed no excitement.

“Hmph, no matter how unique, it’s none of my business. You do your research; I only want results.” With that, Morgana disconnected the call, her gaze drifting through the window into the boundless depths of space.

Carl shook his head at the terminated connection, murmuring, “Void, oh void, ultimate fear... At last, my doctrine will see its conclusion. Whether right or wrong, I must witness it.”

On the celestial barque where Huaye resided, he looked at Sumali, who had just been resurrected, and examined him up and down, grinning lasciviously.

“My beloved general, you have finally returned. Do you know how much I’ve missed you these past twenty thousand years?”

Huaye’s tone was ambiguous, laden with double meanings.

“Your Majesty,” Sumali knelt on one knee, hand pressed to his chest in salute. Yet, if one observed closely, there was a trace of inexplicable fear in his eyes.

“Rise. Use this for now.” Huaye conjured a set of standard Celestial Palace warrior armor, complete with a sword hanging from the side.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Angel Nebula, Star 520.

Heshi gazed at Zhixin before her, her eyes veiled in a faint milky glow as she carefully assessed the current state of her student.

After a while, Heshi relaxed and spoke, “It’s fine, nothing serious. Your genetic engine is merely locked by void-level permissions. You should have returned sooner.”

“I—Queen Keisha asked me to...” Zhixin began, but Heshi interrupted.

“Was it the tomboy’s orders, or your little earth god?” Heshi teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes that could not be concealed.

“I—I came because of Queen Keisha,” Zhixin stammered, cheeks flushed crimson.

“I understand, I understand. Come with me, your teacher will reboot your engine.” Heshi opened a wormhole with a wave, smiling at Zhixin.

Zhixin followed her through the wormhole and entered a pale blue space filled with rectangular arrays. She paused, uncertain, and asked, “Teacher, is this the Simulated Paradise?”

“Yes, this is your teacher’s future secret weapon. Don’t let this slip,” Heshi replied without turning, conjuring a sofa in front of Keisha and sitting down.

Simulated Paradise was a space Heshi created through secondary biological research, combined with celestial computing cloud simulations. Here, Heshi could bestow computational power and energy supply upon others.

If that were all, it wouldn’t be much of a secret weapon—after all, supercomputers could do much the same, the only difference being the amount of support. The true power of Simulated Paradise lay in its ability to simulate any individual whose dark information had been recorded, so long as they did not exceed the computational limits of the celestial cloud.

Furthermore, those simulated could be resurrected endlessly, provided the energy supply from the cloud was sufficient.

The drawback was that it could not simulate a virtual person, for the data of dark information was vast—every moment from birth to death of even an ordinary person was recorded in immense detail.

Aside from its inability to create new life, Simulated Paradise could be regarded as a universe—a universe built by Heshi as a savior. As always, as long as the computational limits of the celestial cloud were not exceeded, anything was possible.

Thanks to advances in secondary biological research, Heshi no longer feared Carl’s Ultimate Fear doctrine, instead maintaining a skeptical attitude. Simulated Paradise could not create new life.

Yet for technocratic deities, respect for science dictated that the unknown did not equate to nonexistence, and she was tempted to declare Ultimate Fear a fallacy.

Zhixin listened to her teacher and shook her head determinedly. “I won’t say a word.”

“Come, let me introduce your new sister,” Heshi beckoned.

Only now did Zhixin notice another person sitting opposite Heshi. The sofa was so large it had blocked her view, making her mistake it for mere furniture.

“Hello, my name is Zhixin,” she greeted, moving beside Keisha.

“This is Angel Kael, an old angel from my generation,” Heshi said, narrowing her eyes and emphasizing the word “old.”

Zhixin blinked, gazing a few more times at this angel she felt drawn to, then pressed her hand to her chest in salute. “Greetings, elder.”

“Little Zhixin, don’t worry. Just pretend I’m not here,” Keisha waved her hand, sipping her tea.

Heshi rolled her eyes, conjured a chair for Zhixin and signaled her to sit, then said, “Let me unlock the void’s restraints for you. Have some tea.”

Zhixin nodded obediently, poured tea for herself and Heshi, and looked at her teacher with eager anticipation.

Heshi tapped her finger lightly, and the celestial computation cloud began to process. A progress bar appeared before Zhixin, advancing at ten percent per second. When the bar vanished, Zhixin heard the genetic engine’s request to reboot.

Without hesitation, Zhixin agreed, and her body radiated a pure white glow. Her long-lost white wings unfolded majestically.

Keisha glanced at Zhixin, then looked speechlessly at Heshi.

Heshi smiled proudly at her student soaring in midair. “My little Zhixin is so beautiful, though this green uniform doesn’t really match your wings.”

Zhixin paused, glanced at her military attire, and summoned her Silversoul armor. With the clatter of metal, a valiant angel warrior appeared before them both.