Chapter One Hundred Eleven

“Ah, yes, it’s him,” Li Daoran nodded.

“Do you want me to tell you the truth?” Yuan Muye asked. At this moment, he truly regarded Li Daoran as a junior. He attributed Li Daoran’s unique traits to the people behind him, overlooking Li Daoran himself. But little did he know, he was mistaken.

“Hmm,” Li Daoran nodded.

“If you believe he is right, then he is right. By offending you, he offends all of humanity. But as long as you say he is right, then he is right. You just don’t dare to admit it,” Yuan Muye began to lay out his strategy.

“I think he is right?” Li Daoran muttered.

“Yes, do you think he’s right? Threatening your life is not just a threat to you; it’s an affront to every human being. If you were an ordinary person and someone threatened to kill you, how would you react?”

Li Daoran pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, “So, what should I do?”

“You are not an ordinary person, so you only need to consider your own feelings. You need everyone to like you, to accept you. After all, you are a real threat to them. Your world must be in chaos now,” Yuan Muye tugged at his beard, finding Li Daoran’s depiction of his world quite intriguing. Even if it wasn’t entirely true, it was certainly worth discussing.

“Yes, it’s already chaotic. I don’t know what to do. I’ve entered a war,” Li Daoran admitted.

“No, it’s not a war. Your very existence is an error in the world. Even if you don’t enter the battlefield, chaos will erupt sooner or later. As long as you exist, you’re a threat to everyone. There will always be some deranged individuals, even if just one in ten thousand, enough to plunge the world into turmoil.

You must understand, people face threats every moment—choking on a sip of water, tripping while walking, or even an ordinary illness must never befall you. Fragile souls live in constant fear, which drives people mad. The feeling of not knowing when you might drag them down is far more terrifying than war. So, your entry into the battlefield is just an excuse for these people. Even if you did nothing but lie in bed eating and drinking, they would rebel. That’s not your fault.” Yuan Muye, as an outsider, saw things clearly: chaos is inevitable, beyond the control of Li Daoran or anyone else.

“That actually makes some sense. I feel much better,” Li Daoran nodded.

“Rational people still make up the majority. For your world, a period of unrest is inevitable. But whether it ends quickly without damaging the foundation—honestly, that depends on you,” Yuan Muye glanced at Li Daoran and said.

“What do you mean?” Li Daoran asked.

“I’m just someone who studies the SkyNet. Honestly, I don’t fully understand these matters. Maybe I’m wrong. If your world is truly as you say, those in charge there should know better than I do. But they are the authorities, yet they don’t tell you. Presumably, they have their reasons. They can probably hear me speaking, so why not have a chat?” Yuan Muye initiated a voice call to the Aquamarine Star authorities.

“Li Daoran, that old man isn’t a good person, but if he wants to talk, then let’s talk,” David perked up. As the first person from Daoran’s world to communicate with the Aquamarine Star officials, this was significant. Every word needed careful consideration. Yuan Muye had already presented two tests—under no circumstances should he be underestimated.

“Daoran, the situation is still under our control. We don’t want you to focus too much on Aquamarine Star because the turmoil in Daoran’s world is far more critical. You have enemies everywhere. A chaotic situation is a far greater threat to us than disturbances on Aquamarine Star. If you get distracted by Aquamarine Star, it’s like leading humanity to its doom.”

“They say that although Aquamarine Star is in turmoil, it’s still under their control. They don’t want me distracted—they want me to focus on this world,” Li Daoran translated.

“So your world’s government has decent control and can ensure your safety. Hundreds of countries, huh? Ha! After they quell the unrest, how many will be left? Whether they like you or not, they are your forces. Quelling unrest and the deaths involved won’t be just one or two people,” Yuan Muye chuckled.

“Don’t stop me—I want to kill that old man!” David waved his arms, watching Yuan Muye vividly through Li Daoran’s live stream, but sadly, he could only grasp at thin air.

“David, stop pretending. If that’s all you’ve got, we’ll have to find someone else,” Natasha said, tapping her nails as she watched David’s performance.

Though Yuan Muye’s words were sharp and somewhat provocative, they weren’t meant for them but rather for those who might be quelled. After all, the countries backing David, Charles, and Natasha were trying to suppress too wide an area of unrest. Everyone was on edge, and with this kind of provocation, the situation might spiral out of control.

But to say that Yuan Muye could pressure David to this degree was almost a joke.

David angrily shouted at his phone, “Old man, don’t slander me, or I’ll smash your head in.”

Hearing this, Li Daoran paused, unsure how to translate.

“What’s wrong?” Yuan Muye asked.

“Well, he said you slander him and threatened to smash your head,” Li Daoran replied helplessly, conveying David’s words.

“Hahaha, interesting. Very well, let’s stop beating around the bush. Forget diplomatic niceties. They use your name to eliminate dissent, then make you take the blame. When that happens, even if you hold everyone’s lives hostage, you won’t have a good ending. Li Daoran, listen to me—take firm control of your world. Let them go to hell,” Yuan Muye said with a smile, leaning close to Li Daoran.

David tossed his phone aside, sat on the sofa smiling, amused by Yuan Muye’s old face. This round, he had won. An old man who only studied SkyNet was still too naive. A skilled politician would never say such things.

Li Daoran frowned, watching Yuan Muye, lost in thought. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, showing his inner struggle.

Feeling Li Daoran’s murderous aura, Yuan Muye took a step back and asked, “What did they say? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Hmm, they didn’t say anything. I’m just thinking about whether to kill you,” Li Daoran said bluntly.

“Why?” Yuan Muye was puzzled.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. But what you said really upset me.” Li Daoran turned his head, popped a sour berry into his mouth, expressionless as he finished it and spat out the pit.

Yuan Muye looked at Li Daoran and realized he wasn’t joking—he was seriously contemplating killing him. He began to reconsider which part of his words was wrong. Why was this happening?