124: Chapter 124 Olivia, the Cosplay Researcher

Because immediately after, the second alarm sounded.

"Alert! Sector E-3, the Slime Race trial team has lost contact! The last footage also shows an attack by an unidentified unit!"

This time the footage was clearer: in a swamp covered with purple slime, dozens of translucent, gelatinous humanoid creatures were advancing. What they encountered was a figure with insect-like wings on its back and arms shaped like bone blades.

The Slimes tried to fight back—they sprayed acidic mucus, shot hardened spikes, and a few even merged into a larger entity, attempting to envelop the enemy with their bodies.

The outcome was never in doubt.

The Progenitor directly purified the area with Holy Light, causing the Slimes to evaporate into mist within the radiance.

The Slimes... well, they didn't run away. Because they simply couldn't run fast. They just huddled together collectively, trembling, and were eliminated one by one.

The footage cut off again.

In the outer ring area, a blue jelly floating in a transparent container trembled violently, making gurgling sounds—this was the representative of the Slime Race. Its mental fluctuations were translated into the common language: "The Slime Race withdraws from the trial! Immediately! Right now! Bring our children back!"

With someone taking the lead, other weaker civilizations quickly followed suit.

"The Gnome Race withdraws from the trial!"

"The Kobold Race withdraws from the trial!"

"The Merfolk Race withdraws from the trial!"

"The Halfling Race... um, we'll consider it... never mind, we're withdrawing too!"

For a moment, the outer ring area erupted into chaos, with representatives of all bizarre shapes and sizes shouting about withdrawal. The scene became extremely chaotic, reminiscent of a market clearance sale.

The inner ring area was relatively quieter.

The representative of the Angel Race—a high-ranking angel with a sacred aura and six wings on her back—slightly furrowed her brow and spoke softly: "Monitor the target's energy level."

An officer immediately reported: "Based on the footage data, the estimated individual energy reaction of the unidentified unit is between Tier 4 and Tier 5, exhibiting characteristics of multiple racial abilities. Threat level... medium-high."

"Notify all trial teams to be alert," the angel representative said, "but it is not recommended to terminate the trial immediately. This might be a good... practical test."

The representative of the Demon Race—a succubus shrouded in shadow, revealing only captivating eyes—let out a soft laugh: "Agreed. If these seedlings can't even handle such a minor incident, they're too delicate."

The representative of the Light Giant Race was a three-meter-tall Giants of Light. He crossed his arms, his voice rumbling like thunder: "The Light Giant Race continues the trial. Issue a warning alert."

The representative of the Forest Fairy Race was a small sprite sitting on a flower. Swinging her fair little legs, she said with a giggle: "Sounds like fun~ The Forest Fairy Race will continue too~"

The representative of the Elf Race was an elf with long ears and a cool, aloof demeanor. She gave a slight nod: "The Elf Race continues the trial."

Other representatives in the inner ring also voiced their positions, mostly stating "continue the trial, issue a warning."

The pressure shifted to the Holy Alliance.

The overall person in charge of this trial, Bishop Albert of the Holy Alliance—the same one who had welcomed the visiting delegation earlier—was now seated in the central-most position of the inner ring. This kind-looking old bishop gently rubbed the holy emblem in his hand, a gentle smile on his face, but his eyes were unfathomable, revealing no emotion.

"Your Excellency," a priest whispered, seeking instructions, "an abnormal situation has occurred in the trial. Should it be terminated?"

Bishop Albert did not answer immediately.

He looked toward the middle ring area—where representatives of civilizations with moderate strength were still observing. Then he looked at the outer ring—the weaker civilizations already in complete disarray. Finally, his gaze fell on the central holographic projection, on those spreading "red zones."

"Let each race decide for themselves," Bishop Albert finally spoke, his voice gentle yet carrying unquestionable authority. "As for humanity... we continue the trial."

He paused, then added: "After all, if they can't even handle such a 'minor situation,' then this batch of trial teams isn't worth cultivating. The real battlefield won't have only the Zerg as enemies."

His words sounded lofty and righteous, stating his stance while also shifting the pressure onto other civilizations—if you want to withdraw, that's your business, but we humans are not afraid.

But in reality...

Bishop Albert slightly lowered his gaze, concealing a fleeting, profound thought in his eyes.

The Primarch's attack pattern has changed to target all units.

Although the specific reason is unclear, the activation command should have been to attack the Zerg. This experiment was just meant to take the opportunity to test the Progenitor's combat effectiveness against the Zerg.

But if the attack pattern has changed to target all, then so be it. If the elites from humanity's various academies can't even defeat these Tier 4-5 units rapidly cultivated through genetic fusion, wouldn't that further demonstrate the value of our Primarch?

This is a good opportunity to test the combat performance of the seventh-generation Progenitor. And also to see what mettle this batch of 'sparks' from various civilizations is really made of.

After further careful consideration, Albert still retained a shred of humanity.

"Inform the Blazing Dragon Federation and Olympia," Bishop Albert whispered to the priest beside him, "suggest they consolidate the teams in their vicinity. The situation might... not be so simple."

"Hmm... wait a moment. Notify all factions that have decided to continue the trial as well," Bishop Albert thought for another moment and added.

The priest accepted the order and left.

Bishop Albert raised his head again, his face restored to that benevolent smile. He watched the red arrows on the holographic projection representing the Primarch's advancing direction and silently thought to himself:

Want to run?

Perfect timing to test the potential of the Primarch on you.

Meanwhile, on the planet's surface, Li Yuan was completely unaware of all this.

He had just lain down in the rest area of the angel base, intending to take a nap. His terminal suddenly vibrated, popping up a message from Chu Xinghe:

"Li Yuan, headquarters just issued a warning. Unknown hostile units have appeared on the planet, non-Zerg, estimated strength Tier 4-5. It is recommended that all defense sectors increase vigilance and consider joint action if necessary. Be careful on your end."

Li Yuan stared at this message for three seconds, then sighed.

"What now?" Laya leaned over, resting her head on his chest.

"Nothing much," Li Yuan turned off the terminal and pulled Laya into his embrace. "Just feels like... this trial is getting more and more lively."

He closed his eyes, planning to catch some sleep while he could.

After all, who knew what other surprises awaited.

And in a mountain range tens of thousands of kilometers away, Olivia finally fully opened her eyes.

The girl sat on the edge of the now-opened hibernation pod, her gaze innocent and bewildered, like a newborn baby. She looked down at her naked body, her fair skin glowing with a pearl-like luster under the residual fluorescence of the nutrient solution.

She blinked, seemingly thinking this wasn't quite right.

So she stood up—her movements somewhat unsteady, like a child just learning to walk—her bare feet stepping onto the cold alloy floor. Her bewildered eyes swept across the empty base corridor. An instinctive drive made her push open a door marked with a clothing icon.

The changing room was softly lit, with neat closets. Her gaze swept past the standard researcher uniforms but was drawn to an unlocked storage compartment in the corner—inside, neatly folded, was a set of clothing that stood out starkly from its surroundings.

Curiously, she took them out. A satin-white lab coat with a soft, smooth texture; the top was a deep V-neck style, paired with a delicate lace-trimmed bra; the bottom was a black, form-fitting velvet skirt that hugged her hips and upper thighs, along with a pair of pearlescent black stockings and similarly black high-heeled knee-high boots.

Clearly, it was a set of cosplay clothing.

She thought this outfit looked much better than the plain researcher uniforms next to it. The act of dressing was fluid, and it felt very comfortable once on:

The lace bra fit snugly, the V-neck top outlined breathtaking curves, the short skirt hugged tightly, revealing beautiful hip lines, the black stockings slid smoothly over her slender legs, and the high-heeled boots reached just below her knees. Finally, she draped that semi-transparent silk white lab coat over herself, leaving it open, not a single button fastened.

She walked over to the full-length mirror.

In the mirror, the girl's silver hair cascaded down, her face stunningly beautiful and pure. Yet, her body was completely wrapped in that highly seductive cosplay outfit—the snowy white cleavage beneath the V-neck was faintly visible, her thighs between the short skirt and boots were encased in black stockings, looking as if they would feel pleasant to the touch.

The lab coat, far from concealing anything, added a layer of hazy allure to this attire. The ethereal silhouette of fairy wings behind her gently swayed, creating a bizarre yet captivating contrast with this outfit.

Olivia tilted her head slightly, her ice-blue eyes holding only pure curiosity and appreciation. She thought the color combination was nice, and wearing it felt very comfortable for her body. She gave a gentle twirl in front of the mirror, a pure, satisfied smile spreading at the corner of her lips.

"Pretty," she said to herself.

And so, this girl, dressed in just this, walked with light and steady steps toward the light of the exit.