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Chapter 734 - Seven Hundred Thirty-One: "Temperature.

Chapter 734: Chapter Seven Hundred Thirty-One: "Temperature.

"Chief. The weapon resources of the Underground City are not plentiful. But Su Xiaobi stands with us."

"Once we gain control of the Dawn System, she will terminate the defense mechanisms of Doomsday City. And we will storm the dungeon to release everyone, transforming into a sharp dagger thrusting into the heart of Doomsday City’s Inner City."

In order to differentiate the counterfeit from Su Ming’an, people begin to call Su Ming’an "Chief" instead of "City Lord."

"Hmm." Su Ming’an nodded.

He raised his head, surveying those around him.

He had always wondered, if a Deity could "observe" this complex three-dimensional world, what would that perspective look like?

Would it be looking down from on high, obscured by certain shields? Or is it like a program, aware of every detail at every point in time within the City-State?

This was a crucial question that Su Ming’an had been probing.

He had found that the Deity could perfectly control the interest, temperament, and behavior of all NPCs, yet had no way of probing into the affairs of Players.

If one wanted to confront the Deity, "Player" was the only breaking point.

After completing the connection, Su Ming’an stepped out of the meeting room. Dozens of Sky Cars flew diagonally towards the surface, like streams of galaxies. The slanted buildings were coated in a layer of cold technological aura.

...And his shoulder brushed against the flickering blue-purple mist, as if wiping away the morning fog between the mountains.

At this moment, he realized that the specifications of this Underground City were extremely similar to those of the underground laboratory of Catastrophe year 72.

"Grandfather, where are you going?" Noah caught up with him.

"There are still two hours until the dinner, I’m going to make some preparations," Su Ming’an said. "I have it timed out; I’ll allot time to change into my dinner attire."

"Hmm..." Noah uttered.

They cast long purple shadows on the wall, one in front of the other.

The style of prosperity and decay ran rampant in this Underground City, with non-mainstream youth clutching electric guitars and singing aloud, and dancers selecting dance dresses. For a full 71 years, humanity’s artistic cells had been suppressed; once they broke free, art, music, dance... burst forth like volcanic eruptions, resplendent and rich.

Freedom is an invaluable treasure bestowed by heaven, and all the wealth buried underground or at sea could not compare. The freedom embedded in human bones cannot be eradicated by any ideological rule.

With survival, people long for freedom; without it, they abandon freedom. Sometimes, for freedom, they forsake survival. History advances in a spiral through the contradictions of accumulation and reduction, constituting the civilization known as humanity.

"What do you want to say?" Su Ming’an noticed Noah had something to say.

Noah was always decisive, rarely appearing cautious. It took Noah a while to find the right words to speak:

"Are you tired?"

"Hmm?" Su Ming’an was stunned for a moment; he did not expect Noah to ask such a question. He stared into Noah’s blue eyes for three seconds before looking away. "No, not tired."

"...Scared?" Noah said again.

"Not scared," Su Ming’an replied.

Why did the people around him always like to concern themselves with his mental state?

"Strange." Noah blinked. "To be honest, I actually want to see what you look like when you’re scared. That way I can comfort you, tell you to rest if you’re tired, and if you’re scared, you don’t need to attend the banquet. But you never give me that chance. You always make me feel... unreal. Like the person in an oil painting."

For some reason, Su Ming’an felt to him... like an ice-cold statue.

Just like the silent black cat on his shoulder.

The buzzing sound of the electric guitar filled his ears as the Razor snake danced in the air.

Su Ming’an stopped in his tracks.

Noah’s splendid golden hair amidst the blue-purple mist resembled the sun emerging from among the clouds, while the passersby seemed like faint shadows contributing to the unreal visual sensation.

...They looked as though they could disappear at any moment.

Su Ming’an realized that Noah was becoming increasingly sentimental. Before he had left previously, Noah had inexplicably sworn allegiance to him. Considering Noah’s age, it seemed that people grow prone to sighing with age.

Someone whose Favorability was forcibly raised to 100 points by the Ruler appeared to care in such a way.

"..."

Su Ming’an held out his hand, presenting it in front of Noah.

"What are you doing?" Noah asked, confused.

"Come on, shake hands," Su Ming’an said.

Noah extended his hand somewhat perplexedly and clasped Su Ming’an’s palm. Noah’s own palm felt warmer than other people’s did.

"Does my hand feel warm?" Su Ming’an asked.

Noah looked puzzled. Sensing the warmth of Su Ming’an’s palm, he replied instinctively:

"Yes."

"Do oil paintings feel warm?" Su Ming’an asked.

"No," Noah replied.

"So what’s your conclusion?" Su Ming’an asked.

"..."

Noah suddenly realized the implication.

It was like a flash of lightning in his mind. After a brief pause, his sky-blue eyes lit up like fireworks. He liked this straightforward way of communicating, akin to an intriguing logical deduction.

"I understand," Noah released his hand. "Sorry, you’re not an oil painting. You’re right before my eyes."

"Hmm."

Su Ming’an let go of the hand and silently checked off "maintain NPC favorability" on his mental plan. He had grown used to employing different strategies for different individuals, each time with remarkable success.

All except the Deity.

"Zzzt zzzt zzzt—"

Ten minutes later, a cluster of buildings made up of blue-purple electric tubes came into view, resembling Rubik’s cubes twisted into irregular shapes, their iron-grey walls painted with vibrant colors, much like a 3A game-themed major exhibition.

Noel waited quietly at the entrance, wearing a white lab coat, the surgical forceps in his hand casting a cold sheen.

Su Ming’an approached Noel.

"You’re here?" Noel put away the surgical forceps.

Su Ming’an nodded.

—Before heading to the banquet, one of Su Ming’an’s contingencies was to have Noel install some chip devices in his body.

For example, a link device capable of real-time communication with the mysterious hacker "Mu Team" when the signal is sufficient.

Although this body was, from appearances, Su Ming’an’s own, when he returned to the Main God World, he would log out using the body of Acto from the City of Measurement. This meant that his actual body would not be affected—in other words, his current body was more like a "bionic body Su Ming’an."

Thus, undergoing modifications using this kind of disposable body came at no cost.

The only danger was that Ming’an could not rule out the possibility of Noel’s betrayal; one must be absolutely cautious in all matters. If Noel had indeed set a trap, Ming’an would still have a last resort.

At this moment, Noel happened to see Noah standing behind Su Ming’an.

"Indeed... they do look alike," Noel’s eyes flickered sharply for a moment. He and Noah were so similar, both with similar blonde hair and Heavenly Sea-colored blue eyes, both lively and excitable in temperament, even the pronunciation of their names was alike. Only, Noel was a Player, while Noah was a Ruler of Doomsday City and one of the Nine Thrones.

"Grandfather, I still hope you won’t go to the banquet," Noah said, paying no attention to Noel’s gaze. "That imposter City Lord has suppressed everyone. Even if you reveal your identity, you could still be persecuted..."

Su Ming’an shook his head, "You go back now, we act tonight."

Noah pursed his lips unsatisfied and didn’t try to persuade further, only staring vacantly at him like a golden retriever. Su Ming’an turned around, ready to step inside.

Su Ming’an was ready to step inside.

"—Chief! Wait a moment!"

Suddenly, the sound of running approached from a distance. A girl with flax-colored hair dashed over, dressed in a neat military uniform, cradling lilies as white as milk.

"Chief! The white lilies from the greenhouse have bloomed; this is the first flower we’ve successfully cultivated. It’s for you!" the girl exclaimed, lifting the lily high towards Su Ming’an, who stood by the doorpost.

Su Ming’an accepted the flower.

The flower of love, purity, and blessing.

Those blessed by the lily are usually adored by everyone and able to resist external temptations to remain untainted. In line with Acto’s preferences, they were the first to be successfully cultivated.

In the Ruined World, flowers symbolized spring.

...So spring could be born here as well.

"Thank you," said Su Ming’an.

This was not a valuable flower; in the Main God World it was 0.1 Points for a large bunch. But here, it symbolized hope.

The girl smiled shyly.

She was the granddaughter of Sen Kylstia, Chun Kylstia. Sixteen this year, by age, she was actually the older sister of Che and Yuanyuan, working odds and ends in the greenhouse.

Once she knew the white lilies had bloomed, she ran all the way to present it to Su Ming’an first.

"Chief, we hope that seeing the colors of spring will make you happy..." Chun said.

"Thank you, I am happy," Su Ming’an said.

Chun bowed deeply, as if encouraged greatly, until Su Ming’an closed the door.

With a "click," the door closed. Noel washed his hands and put on white gloves:

"Lie down on the bed."

Under the brightly shining operating lamp was a flat bed. Su Ming’an placed the lily on the table, the metal frame making a grating sound.

He heard Noel’s voice:

"Su Ming’an, what do you think makes humans human? Is it because their bodies lack mechanical parts?"

"Humanity is defined by its belief in being human," Su Ming’an replied from the bed, "When a person’s self-awareness tells them ’you are human,’ then no one can take away that person’s right to pursue independence."

"Is that so?" Noel nodded, "It seems that someone is really lucky..."

His voice was so faint Su Ming’an didn’t hear the rest of the sentence.

As the anesthetic pierced his skin, Su Ming’an’s senses blurred, and he closed his eyes.

The blazing white light and the reflection of the scalpel shone in the room. Noel pursed his lips tightly, his expression extremely focused. He watched the black-haired young man lying on the operating table and meticulously sewed piece by piece of foreign objects into the body’s wounds. The threads he pulled intersected like a spider’s web.

Those intricately tiny metal plates, iron nails, and chips—cold to the touch, alien, and hard. Embedding them, connecting, implanting, suturing... Noel was like a painter, carefully applying colors to each panel, turning the blank canvas into a vivid landscape, painstakingly stitching together each fragmented wound.

It was like perfecting a shattered piece of art, a statue not yet complete.

Noel realized that Su Ming’an seemed to regard his body as a cold tool; because it could be mended, he felt no pain. Because it would return to its original state, he felt no fear.

Noel understood why he felt guilty towards the child—humanity is defined by moving, thinking, feeling, and loving with a human body. When the material itself changes, thoughts inevitably shift. When parts of the body are replaced with metal parts, humans can misperceive themselves.

If possible, Noel wished that his scalpel would never need to be used on a teammate.

Yet it was used, upon the other’s adamant insistence.

An hour later, the lights dimmed, and Noel threw the blood-stained gloves into the trash can.

"Snap."

He snapped his fingers like a magician.

"Alright, wake up."

One second later, Su Ming’an opened his eyes.

He moved his body, and there was no hindrance.

"Any problems?" asked Noel.

"None, very successful," responded Su Ming’an.

He stripped off his blood-soaked clothes and put on a white suit prepared in advance, holding lilies as he pushed open the door.

"Good luck, Su Ming’an. Your enemy is a deity," Noel cautioned.

"I’m used to dealing with gods as enemies," Su Ming’an shook his head and stepped out—

Suddenly, he heard the sound of rushing wind, something heavy was falling towards him.

In an instant, his body lit up, ready to teleport—

But he forcibly stopped himself. He saw what the heavy object was.

"Boom!"

A heavy thud sounded.

A corpse crashed in front of him.

Her flaxen hair fluttered up, and the flame-like pupils lost their luster. Half of her body, following the impact of the fall, shattered, spilling large amounts of dark red blood and fragmented internal organs—

The howling wind lifted Su Ming’an’s black hair and disheveled the lilies in his arms.

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