When they arrived, they had only about twenty Gigawhales. When they left, they had several extra space shuttles in tow.
“These are the latest model shuttles, pre-loaded with the known distribution of all wormholes within Federation territory, and they update in real time.”
Melina watched the shrinking image of Tigre Star until it faded to a tiny dot, then finally let out a breath of relief.
Lin Xiaohe couldn’t have been more pleased with Melina.
Like mother, like son—no wonder Wesley was so capable. It all came down to Melina’s guidance and example.
This trip to the First Star Ring had been incredibly fruitful.
They took away three shuttles in total—two of them loaded with supplies like medical equipment and research gear.
The third was dedicated solely to transporting talent.
Lin Xiaohe stayed on the personnel shuttle the whole time, trying to bond with the “talents” during the journey.
Cassian slowly regained consciousness, the shuttle’s star-patterned ceiling swimming into view.
He rubbed his stiff neck, silently cursing Lin Xiaohe for hitting way too hard—she’d nearly chopped his head clean off.
“Cassian?!”
“Dean Richards?!”
“Chermu?”
The moment Cassian stepped out of his room, he saw a bunch of familiar faces.
They were all frowning, their eyes burning with indignation.
Cassian’s heart sank. A bad feeling crept over him.
And sure enough, the next second, they all started venting at him.
“Cassian, what kind of student did you take on? Her methods are barbaric—she doesn’t listen to reason at all!”
“Exactly! One disagreement and she knocks you out cold. Come on, we’re not those thick-skinned soldiers!”
“You need to give us an explanation! Good grief—my holy black hole! How did we even leave the First Star Ring? Where the heck are you taking us?!”
Cassian’s face drooped into a wry smile. “What if I told you this has nothing to do with me? Would you believe me?”
“Heh.”
Cassian had no choice but to lead the group to Lin Xiaohe to clear his name—and, while he was at it, find out where she planned to take them.
Faced with their protests, Lin Xiaohe said matter-of-factly, “For your own safety, of course I’m taking you all to Kyushu Star!”
Cassian felt like he was cracking apart. “My dear girl, have you forgotten I’m the Chancellor of the First Military Academy? In a time of life-and-death crisis, I’m supposed to be on the battlefield!”
“But you’re old. The Federation military won’t take you.”
Cassian gave her a dead-fish stare. That one stung!
“Back in the day, I was the Commander of the Federation Special Mechanized Corps!”
Lin Xiaohe: “But you’re old.”
Cassian went mute, retreated to a corner, and sulked in silence.
Seeing Cassian was useless, Dean Richards stepped forward as the ringleader. “A forced melon isn’t sweet. You’ve dragged us here against our will, and we won’t work for you willingly.”
Lin Xiaohe: “A forced melon isn’t sweet, but it still quenches your thirst.”
Dean Richards fell silent. What could he even say to that?!
Lin Xiaohe was like a slick, unshakeable whetstone—no matter what they said, she just wouldn’t let them go.
Why would she send back people she’d gone through all that trouble to pack up and bring along?
These old fellows were too fussy, so Lin Xiaohe simply flew out into space to get some peace of mind.
On their return journey, they stuck to the edge of the Dark Zone.
As they brushed past the Second Star Ring, Lin Xiaohe had a sudden thought and projected her consciousness back into the Fourth-Dimensional Sanctum.
On the vast chessboard-like space, the floating Giant Burial Mound, which had been healing, suddenly flashed with a surge of powerful psychic energy.
This psychic pulse felt more like a mystical proclamation—it rippled out from the center of the Giant Burial Mound and spread outward in concentric waves.
The whole process took less than a second.
“Xiaohe! I did it!” Little Black’s arrogant laughter echoed through the Sanctum.
Lin Xiaohe flashed directly onto the platform inside the Giant Burial Mound.
With Little Black having become the dominant consciousness of the Giant Burial Mound, the most immediate result was that Lin Xiaohe could now tap into a portion of its power the moment she entered.
Above the platform floated a translucent sphere, its outer shell divided into hundreds of hexagonal panels.
This was the Giant Burial Mound’s Zerg brain.
Little Black’s Giant Burial Mound currently only had a few hundred Octopus-Zerg, so the sphere was small and the panels few.
Lin Xiaohe reached out, placed her hand over the sphere, and her consciousness spun in a dizzying whirl.
It took her a good while to acclimate to the environment inside the sphere.
A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “Is this a biological computer?”
Back on Cyros Star, she’d seen how the civilization designated as Number 741, when faced with the [Cleaner] crisis, had chosen to build a human-brain matrix from several hundred people.
The sphere inside the Giant Burial Mound worked on a similar principle.
The difference was that the Number 741 civilization had failed—but the Giant Burial Mound had succeeded.
Lin Xiaohe decided to test out the Zerg biological computer’s capabilities.
She closed her eyes and silently recited in her mind: “Simulate the outcome of the war between the Federation and the Zerg, assuming I do not intervene.”
The sphere hummed, and every hexagonal panel glowed with light.
In her field of vision, 15,432 simulation paths appeared.
All of them—every single one—ended in Federation defeat.
Lin Xiaohe ran just this one simulation and then withdrew from the sphere.
The simulation process was smoother than any artificial intelligence she’d ever experienced, with far greater computing power.
She had a hunch it was on par with [Nuwa].
[Nuwa] was more inclined to serve humanity and the Federation. Even though its virtual war simulations were realistic, they were built on massive foundational data and lacked much subjective initiative.
“Little Black, does the Giant Burial Mound in the Second Star Ring have this function too?”
Little Black: “Yes. It’s an innate talent of our Zerg—once you reach the Giant Burial Mound level, it awakens.”
Lin Xiaohe drew in a sharp breath.
Little Black’s Giant Burial Mound had only a few hundred Octopus-Zerg, and its simulation ability was already this powerful.
The Giant Burial Mound in the Second Star Ring had countless Zerg. Just how terrifyingly strong would its calculation power be?!
Lin Xiaohe: “Little Black, isn’t the Giant Burial Mound your hive?”
“No.”
Holy moly!
Lin Xiaohe pressed further: “Then where’s the hive?”
Little Black shook his head. “I don’t know. My inheritance is incomplete.”
The Zerg’s information inheritance worked like genetic locks—only when you reached a certain level would a lock unlock, granting the corresponding knowledge.
Normally, at the Giant Burial Mound level, one should know where the hive was.
But Little Black’s Giant Burial Mound had come about under unusual circumstances, and its inheritance was fragmented.
Little Black said dejectedly, “Sorry, Xiaohe. All I know is that Giant Burial Mounds are split off from the hive, like branches growing from a tree. Each one carries the mission of expanding into new territory and propagating the species.”
Which meant that, under normal circumstances, two Giant Burial Mounds rarely existed in the same star sector.
But what if they did appear simultaneously?
Lin Xiaohe found out soon enough.
A deep, ancient Zerg cry suddenly echoed from within the Giant Burial Mound.
“My name is Zhou. Who are you?”
