Chapter Four: Analysis

“No matter if you’re an alien or a human, right now all of humanity is under your control. What do you want? How can we break free from this? We will never allow mankind to be held hostage by a single person, even if you were a god. At worst, we’ll go down together. State your purpose.” Chen Ming’s voice was cold as he slowly advanced on Li Daoran.

Li Daoran, clad only in his underwear, was a little bewildered by the words, yet inexplicably stirred. To him, this was just how the people of Rabbit Nation ought to be. In truth, he felt the same—if he were an ordinary person, forced to share his fate with a stranger, he would never submit meekly and accept it. He would refuse to be cowed.

He tore off the medical devices attached to him, stood up, and put on his clothes.

“I don’t know. I understand what you mean, but there’s no such thing as ‘us’. I’m just an ordinary person who had lunch and took a nap at home, and then all of this happened. I’m still completely lost. If I could, I’d end this farce and return to my old life immediately. If killing me would break this bond, though I’d be afraid and unwilling, I’d understand. But now, if I die, the entire human race dies too. You can’t bear that responsibility, and I won’t let myself be slaughtered.”

Though his eyes were a little red, he still did his best to express everything he wanted to say.

“Besides, I’ve at least done something good, haven’t I? I believe all the answers lie within my dreams. Even if I die and humanity survives, we’d lose a chance to soar. There are so many treasures in that dream world. If, because of your assumptions, humanity loses a chance to rise, wouldn’t that be a pity? If you really must kill me, shouldn’t it be only after I’ve done something truly unforgivable?”

Hearing this, Chen Ming suddenly broke into a broad smile, changing his expression so rapidly it was striking.

“A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding! How could a mere soldier like me decide the fate of all humankind? Haha, I lost my head for a moment, brother, please don’t take it to heart. Come, come, sit down. Don’t get worked up. Look at this mess—it’s all a misunderstanding.”

Chen Ming put his arm around Li Daoran’s shoulders, guiding him to the bedside, then bent down to pick up a fragment of a miniature earpiece. Walking over to the medical vehicle’s control panel, he quickly reconnected to his original top-secret channel.

“Chen Ming, what the hell have you done?! You’re making trouble again! You were sent to protect him, not kill him! If you want to die, don’t drag us with you. Deduct a year’s salary—no exceptions!”

A middle-aged man’s roar boomed from the speakers. Chen Ming dug at his ear indifferently. “Salary? I’ve never even seen one. Do as you like.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Quickly bring Mr. Li Daoran to the target location and wait for the UN meeting to conclude. Don’t cause any more trouble, do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir. Mission will be accomplished.”

“There is a new task: while Mr. Li Daoran is livestreaming, have him explain everything about his dreams—every detail. The translation must be word-perfect. Chen Ming, instruct him on how to use the livestream ability.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chen Ming turned to Li Daoran. “You heard the mission. Let’s get started. First, the language you used in the dream isn’t any language spoken on Bluewater Star, so you’ll need to translate. Also, explain the circumstances, challenges, and motives behind everything you did—be as thorough as possible.”

Li Daoran now realized they couldn’t understand the dream language, but as he thought back, he realized he’d never learned it either—it just came naturally, as if he had an inbuilt translator. He nodded.

“Just picture the playback list in your mind, treat it like a livestream app—it’s not complicated. We’ll sync up, and if there’s a problem, we’ll stop you.”

Chen Ming opened the vehicle’s computer, connected to the internet with ease, found a forum, and casually started a livestream thread.

“I think we should gather the wisdom of the masses. If there are questions, the public can post on the forum. After all, this concerns all humanity—not just a single authority. Participation is what matters.”

Within moments, millions flooded into the livestream thread, numbers still rising. The site crashed instantly. Chen Ming clicked his tongue and gave up.

Meanwhile, Li Daoran effortlessly opened the first livestream screen, showing his dream from the first-person perspective. It was vivid, like watching a 3D film.

Both men synced the playback at half speed. Chen Ming questioned him about every person who appeared, but for most of them, Li Daoran could only answer “I don’t know.” All he could do was translate every word he heard.

Eventually, they reached the nurse. Li Daoran’s face grew troubled.

Chen Ming asked, “Do you know this nurse? Why did you kiss her? Are you two a couple? What did you say to each other?”

Li Daoran, mortified and angry, had no choice but to answer.

“I don’t know her. I thought it was a dream—who would have guessed something so bizarre would happen? She said…”

“Oh, I get it,” Chen Ming said, barely suppressing a grin. “After all, you’re twenty. It’s only natural to be curious about the opposite sex. Besides, the nurse teased you first—I can understand. But take some advice from your brother: women only slow your draw.”

“Are you going to keep listening or not? I feel like this is a social disaster for me. I don’t even want to live right now.”

“Don’t, don’t! Let’s keep going. So, you’re a new recruit in the dream, right? The next part—you get an injection. What’s in the syringe? That’s important. Do you still have access to it, and would another injection have any effect?” Chen Ming stopped teasing and returned to business.

“I don’t know. But I’ll try getting another injection.”

They continued discussing the uniform, the wristwatch, the instructor, and other details until they finally arrived at their destination.

“So, you can leave the dream world at will—that’s good news. But it was just a 30-kilometer run, and you weren’t even carrying a load. As long as you have legs, that’s nothing! You got scared off by that? How embarrassing!” Chen Ming teased.

“You call that talking like a human?” Li Daoran looked at Chen Ming in disbelief.

“Of course! Back in the day—well, that’s classified. I can’t say. When your stream is off, I’ll tell you in secret.” Chen Ming had been about to brag, but thought better of it and shut his mouth.

Li Daoran understood—there was no way the so-called strongest soldier lacked ability.

The door of the medical vehicle opened.

“We’re here. Let me show you my turf. A thirty-kilometer run is nothing. In a bit, I’ll do a sixty-kilometer run with a load, just to show you,” Chen Ming said.

Lined up on both sides of the vehicle door stood a group of people dressed just like Chen Ming. At the foot of the steps, a short, wiry man spoke up: “Boss, Brother Daoran, we’ve arrived. Time to get off.”