360: Chapter 360 Happy New Year's Eve!

"Damn it, how could it be like this?"

The Commander stared at the cold launch data on the screen, his fist slamming hard onto the console with a dull thud. The technicians around him shuddered in fear, none of them daring to make a sound.

"It must be that Universe lifeform!" His voice was almost a roar. "It must have parasitized Chen Yuan and used his knowledge—bastard, bastard, bastard!"

He became more agitated as he spoke, the muscles on his face trembling. Golden Bone stepped forward, placed a hand on his shoulder, and pressed down firmly.

"Calm down."

The Commander's breathing was heavy, his chest heaving violently, but Golden Bone's press was forceful, as if pushing down his emotions. He turned his head and looked at Golden Bone.

"What comes next is a matter for the Special Department," Golden Bone said. "Leave it to us."

He turned his head and looked at Lu Jianchuan and Shen Mingyuan, who were standing against the wall.

"How about it?"

Lu Jianchuan nodded.

"No problem."

Shen Mingyuan also nodded, but then seemed to remember something and added, "However, Wei Ziqing can't come yet; his injuries haven't healed. Leave it to the two of us for now."

Just as he finished speaking, both of their phones rang simultaneously.

It wasn't a normal ringtone, but that light sound like a water droplet falling into a deep pool that they had recently become familiar with. Lu Jianchuan pulled out his phone, and Shen Mingyuan did the same; the screen displayed an icon with a gray background and white border.

They clicked it open.

.**: I've noticed what's happening on your end. So, I've sped up the progress, and it's finished now.

.**: Wei Ziqing's Second Form has been added. But he's still injured and can't come. You two have to do your best.

.**: Lu Jianchuan, your Third Form has been added to the design schedule. Once Wei Ziqing's Second Form design is finished, it'll be your turn.

.**: For your Third Form, I plan to design it as—or rather, what kind of ability do you feel you're lacking?

Lu Jianchuan stared at the screen for two seconds, then his fingers moved.

Lu Jianchuan: Let's talk about it when I get back. Right now, we're going to help someone in need of assistance.

The other side replied almost instantly.

.**: OK.

The screen went dark. Lu Jianchuan put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Golden Bone.

"Let's go."

Meanwhile, on the flight deck, the transport plane's engines had already begun to warm up.

A monitoring staff member hurried out, still clutching a printout freshly torn from the screen, marked with dense coordinates and trajectory lines. He stuffed the paper into Golden Bone's hand and said pantingly:

"The estimated launch position of the aircraft has been marked and sent to your terminals. You must succeed—you must fulfill Chen Yuan's wish!"

Golden Bone glanced down at the paper and then handed it to Lu Jianchuan. Lu Jianchuan took it, scanned it, folded it, and put it in his pocket.

He didn't look back, just raised his hand and waved behind him.

Shen Mingyuan followed beside him, took two steps, then stopped and looked back.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice not loud but very serious, "it will definitely be done. Or rather—maybe we can even save him."

The monitoring staff member froze for a moment, his eyes reddening slightly, and nodded vigorously.

Golden Bone was already waiting ahead. Shen Mingyuan quickly caught up, and the three of them boarded the transport plane, followed by a squad of fully armed combat personnel. The hatch slowly closed, the roar of the engines grew louder, and the plane took off, disappearing into the night sky.

About twenty minutes after the plane took off, Golden Bone's communication terminal rang.

He glanced at it and clicked it open; it was a voice message from the base. The monitoring staff member's voice came through the speaker, carrying obvious anxiety:

"Golden Bone, the situation has changed! The aircraft underwent multiple position adjustments during transit—no, I should say attitude adjustments. Its flight trajectory is very unstable; one moment it looks like it's going to land normally, and the next it looks like... like it's going to crash itself."

The background sound of keyboard typing came through the communication.

"We speculate that during the flight, Chen Yuan might have regained some sanity and is fighting against that thing. He wants to self-destruct. But that thing is controlling him, wanting him to land. Two people... or rather, two consciousnesses, are fighting for control."

He paused.

"If that's the case, the final landing position will be hard to determine. We can only give you a rough area—about fifty kilometers in diameter. The rest is up to you."

Golden Bone pressed the reply button on the communication terminal, his voice steady:

"Thanks. This is enough. Sorry for the trouble."

No more sound came from the other end of the communication, only a brief burst of static before it cut off.

The plane began to descend. Outside the porthole, the land in the night gradually became clear—it was a desolate Gobi desert, with sand dunes and rocks interlaced, and an occasional dried-up riverbed gleaming grayish-white under the moonlight. On the distant horizon, a streak of fire was streaking across the sky, falling toward this area in a bizarre, constantly correcting arc.

The trajectory swayed left and right, as if struggling.

Then, the firelight disappeared.

It wasn't the sudden extinguishing of a crash, but a gradual fading in brightness until it finally vanished below the horizon. A few seconds later, a dull roar came from the distance, making the plane's cabin walls vibrate slightly.

"Landed," the pilot's voice came through the communication channel. "The attitude wasn't quite right; it should be a hard landing, there's damage."

The plane turned quickly and flew toward the direction of the roar. Five minutes later, a huge impact crater appeared below—a long trench had been plowed into the sand, and at the end of the trench was a mass of twisted metal wreckage, still emitting black smoke. It was a small aircraft, its outer shell severely damaged, with fragments scattered dozens of meters away.

The plane hovered over the wreckage, the hatch opened, and several ropes were thrown down.

Golden Bone was the first to stand at the hatch. He raised his hand and pressed his left arm—usually, he wore a light Mechanical Exoskeleton close to his body there, which now rapidly extended and wrapped around him under command, covering his whole body in a few seconds to form a gray-black combat armor. He took the helmet handed over by a nearby team member and snapped it on, the sound of the airtight lock clicking shut was crisp.

"Everyone, act according to plan," he said, his voice coming from the helmet with a slight electronic synthesis. "Put on your protective suits and turn on the detection equipment. The three of us will go first."

The combat personnel behind him responded in unison and began to quickly put on fully enclosed protective suits.

Lu Jianchuan and Shen Mingyuan stood behind Golden Bone and glanced at each other.

No extra words were needed. Lu Jianchuan raised his left hand and pressed the touch area of the silver-gray bracelet on the inside of his wrist with his thumb. Shen Mingyuan also raised his right hand and pressed his own bracelet.

Silver-white biological armor spread out from the bracelets, growing and wrapping like a living thing, covering their entire bodies within seconds. The silver skeleton's streamlined silver-white armor gleamed coldly in the moonlight; the shadow's matte black armor almost blended into the night, with only the red eyepieces glowing faintly.

The transformation was complete.

Golden Bone looked back at them and nodded.

The three of them slid down the ropes and landed on the sand beside the wreckage.

The aircraft in front of them was no longer recognizable. The main body had split open with a huge gap, exposing the charred internal structure, with various wires and fragments tangled together. The cockpit area was completely deformed, the transparent canopy shattered into countless pieces scattered in the sand.

A faint smoke drifted from the cracks, mixed with a burnt smell and a certain indescribable, slightly sweet and cloying strange scent.

There was no movement in the wreckage.

Only the night wind blew, swirling fine sand and hitting the twisted metal shell with a faint rustling sound.

Well, I wish all readers surprises when they open the story and a sweet aftertaste when they close the book. May you, in the Year of the Horse, be able to see thousands of worlds in others' words and live as unique protagonists in your own lives; may everything you seek come true, and may you be healthy and safe year after year!