169: Chapter 169: An essay exposes the ultimate executioner's blade.

"This also means that even if the Crane Family has never successfully created a suitable vessel shell, the Mothman can still forcibly project individual consciousness onto any living creature on Earth at any time and place."

"No prior notice required, no physical transmission channel required, no interceptable carrier required."

He paused, picked the encrypted tablet up from the desktop and placed it on his lap,

"Whenever they want to descend upon Earth, they can descend."

William had just unscrewed his hip flask, which he hadn't yet had time to drink from, and slowly placed it back on the edge of the table.

Samuel's hands, which had just relaxed, pressed back against the edge of the table.

Isabelle gripped her bulletproof cloak tighter than before, her fingernails leaving shallow marks in her palms.

Jacob gently pushed the glasses he had just put back on the bridge of his nose and the folders spread out on the desk to the side, his hands hanging in front of him as if he were reorganizing all the defensive strategies that he had thought foolproof just a few hours ago.

Rockefeller III still maintained his posture with his hands crossed and placed in front of the table,

but his gaze had already moved away from the encrypted tablet, staring silently at the file covers in front of him marked with R&D records of the Crane Family from different periods.

Elena Chen straightened the open file pages in front of her, her tone still professional and calm, but her phrasing clearly carried a hint of trying to leave room for mitigation:

"However, according to available data, the side effects of this forced projection method are extreme."

"After the Mothman descends to another planet through this mismatched method, their survival period is extremely short, usually only two to three months."

"During their colonization process of the Little Moth Planet, they paid a huge price in individual sacrifices before finally establishing a stable colony."

"So this does not mean that they can casually use this method to carry out a large-scale military invasion of Earth."

Rockefeller III loosened his hands pressed against the edge of the table and placed them on the row of folders in front of him.

Samuel Astor let out a long sigh.

Isabelle DuPont unbuckled and retightened the straps of her bulletproof cloak for the third time.

They didn't know whether to rejoice or worry.

Two or three months was certainly too short for tyrannically conquering an entire planet,

but what if it was just to kill a few specific individuals?

If the Mothman already knew that the Crane Family had been wiped out and only needed to project a small number of individuals over to carry out revenge operations, the time was completely sufficient.

No one knew how precise the consciousness transmission technology, reverse-evolved from the equipment left behind by a Level 5 civilization, could actually be,

nor did they know how much lethality the individuals sent over via forced projection could inflict before dying.

Just as the atmosphere in the entire conference room instantly dropped from relaxed back to freezing point, and everyone was deducing the possibility of Mothman's revenge in their respective minds,

Soren picked up the encrypted tablet he had just placed on his lap and put it back on the table. His volume wasn't high, but his tone carried a calmness and certainty completely different from before.

"But the Mothman will not descend to Earth by means of forcibly projecting consciousness."

Rockefeller III abruptly raised his gaze from the row of folders in front of him and stared straight at Soren.

Samuel, Isabelle, Jacob, and William also cast their gazes at the Swedish astrophysicist at the same time.

"Why?"

Rockefeller III's tone was extremely concise, but every syllable was pressed extremely tight as he squeezed them out from behind his teeth.

Samuel Astor lifted his hands from his lap and placed them on the table, leaning forward by half an inch.

Isabelle DuPont, Jacob Rothschild, and William Vanderbilt V also looked at Soren with the exact same gaze.

At this moment, they wanted to know the answer more than ever.

"Little Moth Planet is a primitive planet with an extremely harsh ecological environment and no native intelligent life."

"When colonizing it, the Mothman faced a wasteland that completely required no protection and wasn't worth cherishing."

"So they could crudely project the consciousness of the colonial fleet into various local low-level creatures, regardless of survival rates or side effects."

"While Earth is completely different."

Soren slowly stood up, pushed the encrypted tablet to the center of the conference table, and said in a tone even more solemn than any report he had read before,

"To understand the fundamental reason behind this distinction, I feel it is necessary to read an essay written by a Moth Star scientist in their leisure time."

"This essay was originally sent to Earth as part of the routine cultural exchange program between Moth Star and the Crane Family."

"The purpose was to enable the Crane Family to understand the values of the Moth Civilization as soon as possible, so that both sides could better coordinate and promote the research and development of vessel shells."

"Looking back today, this essay can explain the Mothman's attitude toward Earth better than any technical analysis document."

Rockefeller III leaned forward slightly, spreading his hands, which had been crossed in front of him, flat on the desktop. His tone returned to its usual composure and focus, but the sense of urgency in his wording was undisguised.

"Please read."

"Do not skip a single word."

Soren nodded slightly toward Elena Chen.

Elena picked up a separate folder and opened it. Inside was a page of old printed paper covered with a transparent acid-proof film.

The paper had turned yellow, with slight water stains and traces of dried chemical preservation solution on the edges,

upon which was the English translation archived and printed by the Crane Family back then, translated by an automatic translation program during routine communications with Moth Star.

She cleared her throat and began to read:

Title: Beautiful 3.14

Author: Chief Scientist of the Moth Star Biological Consciousness Transmission Laboratory, name not retained by the translation program in this batch of communication documents, Crane Family archival number TEC-109-47

"Whenever the night is deep and quiet, I am very terrified."

"Whenever I am alone in the observation deck of Moth Star, using the observation equipment of a higher civilization to cross those one hundred thousand light-years of pitch-black voids and hundreds of thousands of light-years of interstellar space to peer at the twinkling stars outside, I am afraid."

"I am afraid that I will live forever in this pure, endless pitch-black universe until death,"

"until the next shell is downloaded into our consciousness network, and when I open my eyes again, what I see is still the same patch of black."

"Our civilization can already allow individuals to survive for thousands of years."

"If the shell breaks, replace it with another."

"If consciousness decays, recompile it."

"For those short-lived civilizations that are still among the galaxies, still groping for anti-gravity technology, we are already living gods in the dimension of endless years."

"However, why..."

"Why must my hometown be sealed in this lifeless place where there is only pitch black for a full one hundred thousand light-years?"