At the behest of some higher-ups, a junior council member suddenly burst out, looking furious: "Chairman, I hereby formally propose the impeachment of Sophia, Chief Scientist of Tiberius Laboratory! She has seriously violated lab management regulations and unauthorizedly used..."
Adam Zade slowly raised his head and glanced at him, uttering just one word: "Scram."
"Uh... Chairman? I..."
"Don’t understand human language?" Adam Zade’s face was a bit pale, like Dracula in a haunted castle. He raised his hand to clutch his chest, looking somewhat frail and mentally exhausted, but somehow even more terrifying and chilling: "Scram."
The junior council member’s face changed three times, then actually squatted down and rolled out of the room, mumbling as he went.
Adam shot a sideways glance at the others. The lighting was perfectly bright, but everyone inexplicably felt a chill: "I’m not just talking about him. I mean all of you. Get out."
Those big shots from the Zade family, the up-and-coming stars, the important figures—members of the joint council, starting with Parker Peterson—actually squatted down and rolled out, one after another. The scene was both comical and filled with an unquestionable, intimidating authority.
The council members might have pride and dignity, but they knew full well: if they didn’t roll out, their glamorous council careers would be over. Their lives, too.
At the end of the day, the so-called joint council was founded just to cook up excuses, weave regulations, and use so-called logic to keep Sophia in check. It’s like all those convoluted financial laws and stock rules—the real purpose is to let big capitalists legally suck the blood of the masses. Everything else is just smoke and mirrors.
The senior council members thought they’d found the perfect angle and told the junior to make a move. But turns out, they were flattering the wrong horse—the poor guy ended up as the chairman’s sacrificial offering to win Sophia’s favor.
Parker Peterson was full of doubts—what on earth had this expedition run into? But he didn’t say more and quickly rolled out of sight.
With the politicians gone, Adam turned his gaze to the bedside. There stood Susan Soo, her expression as flat as a pancake—not happy, not angry, just like her three-no-moods back in London.
Driving the Unknown Lighthouse to save people was a massive drain. Susan Soo had taken on way more psychic shock than any ordinary mortal could handle, and her personality had been scrubbed clean all over again.
Still, all of Sophia’s memories were intact.
"Sophia, you fought so hard to survive, and now we can finally talk. What do you think we just ran into?" For once, Adam Zade’s face showed genuine terror, panic, and lingering fear. "Don’t tell me those were corpses of gods?"
"Sample acquired. Further research is feasible. Conclusions will be based on data collection; nothing to report at this time." Susan Soo sounded like a robot reading a memo.
"Sophia, you..." Adam paled at Susan Soo’s robotic reply. He clutched his chest, shook his head, and said, "You should go rest. You’ve burned yourself out this time. You..." He hesitated, then muttered, "You saved my life again. Thanks."
Susan Soo didn’t answer. She vanished in a flash.
Adam sat alone on the hospital bed, staring into space, his face blank as if lost in some memory. Whatever he recalled, it hit hard—he suddenly howled in pain, clutching his chest and rolling around. Cold sweat soaked his clothes, and in the blare of alarms, medical staff rushed in to save him.
Three hours later, a brand new announcement and set of orders were issued.
Announcement: The recent hyperspace Grand Expedition encountered an unprecedented, massive spatial storm. The expedition team suffered catastrophic losses—only Captain Adam Zade survived, all others perished. Families of the deceased will be compensated; the detailed list is as follows... Also, effective immediately, the Tomorrow Port is sealed, and all hyperspace exploration activities are suspended. Anyone caught conducting such activities will be severely punished.
From this moment on, the entire lab’s atmosphere flipped.
The lab’s booming, flower-filled momentum took a direct hit. Shadows fell on both the work and everyone’s mood. More and more folks lined up for counseling with the old priest, and even the big shots in the recreation zone started swapping weird tales.
Some swore up and down, with all the details like they’d seen it themselves: The exploration team ran into something huge, bizarre, and terrifying deep in hyperspace! Everybody died. It was horrifying! And sure, Adam Zade made it out alive, but things don’t just end there. There’s gotta be some kind of curse clinging to him, hitching a ride back!
What? How do I know? Isn’t it obvious? Everybody died, so why did he come back? And ever since he got back, his face’s been ghostly pale, like a vampire. Look at those deep dark circles—scarier than smokey eye makeup, clearly haunted by nightmares. Plus, haven’t you noticed people keep vanishing from the lab? No doubt about it, Adam Zade’s cursed. He’ll turn into a man-eating monster any day now.
Guys, let’s just run off to Earth and hold hands, singing and dancing under the Soviet nuclear rain!
—And then, that loudmouth actually vanished for real.
The lab rumors were quickly squashed. Any gossip-mongers got either a warning or booted out—courtesy of Parker Peterson. The memories from the static were clear: no man-eating monsters, just body bags and burial pits.
But Parker Peterson wasn’t feeling any lighter.
As Adam Zade’s shadow hand, he could keenly sense his boss had changed overnight. From bright and lively to carrying a heavy gloom.
The gloom was faint, but there was a definite whiff of impending doom, like the Star of Death hanging overhead.
Parker Peterson had no idea why, but he had a gut feeling—Tiberius Laboratory was about to change in a big way. And this change might just flip everyone’s fate.
The change came fast. All the original teams were broken up and reassembled, and every top-tier scientist was yanked from their projects and thrown together. Talented folks have tempers—having your project yanked out from under you is like a star actor getting a movie cut mid-shoot. Anyone dragged out was full of complaints.
But the chief scientist quickly announced she’d personally lead the strongest dream team of elite researchers on a mind-blowing new project.