192: Chapter 192 The History of Zeta Planet: Technology Harms People

Samuel Astor lowered his already bowed head by another half-inch, muttering in a breathy voice that only the few people beside him could hear:

"When my own father died back then, I didn't cry this heartbreakingly."

"What is Prince Dao Dun thinking of?"

Rockefeller III ignored Samuel's muttering.

He took a few steps forward, standing slightly behind and to the side of Prince Dao Dun,

close enough to express concern, yet far enough so as not to invade the prince's personal space.

Rockefeller III slightly bowed his body, keeping his voice down to the lowest possible level with a cautious tone:

"Your Highness, is there anything I can do for you?"

Prince Dao Dun raised a slender finger through the one-way glass, pointing at the center lead dancer of the girl group on the stage who was frozen mid-twist,

his weeping tearing his voice into incomplete, disjointed fragments:

"Fake… they're all fake!"

"All silicone! Completely silicone! Wuwuwuwu!"

Rockefeller III, Samuel, Isabelle, Jacob, and William simultaneously stiffened for a fraction of a second on top of keeping their heads bowed.

The five of them had rolled through the business, political, and military-industrial circles for decades, having seen countless messes after counterfeits were exposed,

but the dignified Fourth Prince of the Zeta Star, who had crossed thirty-nine light-years of void, had his heart ripped out and re-transplanted,

and had woken up from a long medical recovery just a few days ago, crying so heart-rendingly simply because he discovered that the bodies of the South Korean girl group contained silicone.

Rockefeller III pressed his bowed body down a few more inches, his voice steady and soft, carrying no redundant emotional fluctuations, as if he were currently asking about an extremely serious fundamental crisis concerning planetary survival:

"Your Highness, I will have these unreal things cleared out immediately."

"No one will ever look at anything on the stage outside ever again."

Prince Dao Dun did not stop.

He slowly retracted the still-trembling finger suspended in mid-air back toward his chest, his grayish-white large head swaying slowly from side to side,

his breathing still intermittently mixed with sobs, every gasp shattering his voice even further:

"It's all fake… it's all a deception…"

"That kind of bodily beauty belonging to higher intelligent beings…"

"That kind of agile, natural art flowing from the native genetic sequence…"

"It's all fake! You're all deceiving me! Wuwuwuwu!!"

Rockefeller III straightened his waist and cast an extremely quick glance at Samuel.

The two of them exchanged an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible nod.

If this South Korean girl group were allowed to remain on stage, Prince Dao Dun's emotions would be stimulated to the point of collapse once again,

and none of them dared to predict in what way the emotional collapse of a Zeta Star prince would eventually spread outward.

Samuel turned around and walked quickly to the butler relay intercom terminal on the side of the viewing hall, issuing a single, short, and decisive instruction in an ultra-low speaking speed.

In less than a few seconds,

the girl group members on stage were immediately led away from the stage by staff pouring out from the wings,

each of their expressions being bewildered and trance-like,

none of them knew that just now, through that dark gray curtain wall, a royal family member of a higher civilization from thirty-nine light-years away had just flipped open the deepest trump card of their industry and tearfully sentenced them for fraud.

The viewing hall sank back into silence.

Rockefeller III turned his body back toward Prince Dao Dun, his tone still respectful and steady:

"Your Highness, do you need to go rest for a bit? I will arrange it for you immediately."

Prince Dao Dun forcefully blew the remaining tear stains on his face, placed his hands on his knees and quieted down for a moment, the tear light in those large black eyeballs gradually fading away.

When he spoke, his voice was still somewhat hoarse, but it had stabilized a lot:

"No need to rest."

"I'm not having any major issues, I just thought of the history of our Zeta Star."

Rockefeller III slightly straightened his bowed body, keeping his tone low and steady:

"If Your Highness is willing to speak, I am all ears here."

Behind him, Isabelle, Jacob, and William simultaneously shifted their body weight slightly forward.

This was an extremely minute action, but in any century-old aristocratic family, this meant the exact same thing:

This was what they truly wanted to hear.

Prince Dao Dun slowly crossed his hands resting on his knees together, fell silent for a moment, and then spoke.

His voice still carried a trace of post-cry hoarseness, but his tone was extremely calm, resembling reciting an ancient scripture carved into the very bottom of his memory since childhood.

"Actually, in the past… about thirty thousand years ago, the appearance of the Zeta people was hardly different from you Earth humans."

"Except for being a bit taller than you and having a more slender figure, in other aspects, there was almost no difference."

Rockefeller III did not make any obvious sound, but the curve of his shoulders tightened at that instant.

Samuel Astor lifted the head that had been hanging down all this while, his brows tightly knitted, his lips slightly parting and closing again.

Isabelle DuPont crossed her ten fingers in front of her, her gaze lingering somewhat sluggishly on Prince Dao Dun's grayish-white face.

Jacob Rothschild slowly pulled his hands, which had been tucked inside his cuffs, half an inch out and rested them on his knees.

William Vanderbilt V set the hip flask that never left his body down beside the sofa armrest, entire person going as quiet as if nailed to the spot.

This was a logic anyone could think of:

Since the Grey Alien used to look exactly identical to humans in appearance and build, they must have gone through something to have now turned into this kind of giant-headed, slender-limbed appearance.

And for all individuals of a higher civilization to undergo such earth-shaking changes in appearance, they must have experienced some unimaginable huge events.

Such major events must be heaven-shaking and earth-weeping.

Prince Dao Dun raised his head to look around at the expressions on each of their faces, then lowered his head back down, looking at his own slender fingers crossed and resting on his knees, his tone calm without any buildup, yet what he said was completely different from what all of them guessed.

"In the history of the Zeta Star, for a period of time, technology was developing at a rapid pace."

"Every single day was changing with each passing day."

"The Zeta people's reliance on advanced technology was also gradually growing stronger."

He paused for a moment, the light in those large black oval eyeballs dimming slightly by a few fractions,

"Actually, even back then, some Zeta Star scientists had already issued a warning: technology is merely a tool; only the Zeta people use technology, and technology must not be allowed to use the Zeta people."

"It's just that this warning was quickly ignored by everyone."

"New technology prototypes landed every day, R&D centers worked through the nights, and R&D teams had no time to worry about any morphological degeneration…"

"Everyone only cared about whether the size of the next-generation product could be thinner and lighter than the previous generation."

Rockefeller III did not make a sound, only slightly tightening his ten fingers crossed on his knees.

Samuel slowly lowered the head he had just raised, the wrinkle between his brows deepening compared to before.

Isabelle gently untied her ten fingers crossed in front of her knees, and then slowly crossed them back.

Jacob lowered his gaze silently,

while William stood motionlessly beside the sofa armrest, the hip flask that never left his body set aside by him without being touched again.

The five of them were all very clear at this moment:

Prince Dao Dun's words did not feel like a relaxed nostalgia, but rather like a heavy and cold silent accusation overlapping across thirty thousand years of time and space.

"Then, the Zeta people's reliance on technology grew stronger and stronger."

Prince Dao Dun's voice remained calm, but every single word felt like it was being dragged laboriously outward from some increasingly deep memory black hole,

"Walking requires technology."

"Eating requires technology."

"Sleeping requires technology."

"Even procreating offspring requires technology."

"Then…"

He suddenly stopped, those black eyeballs drooping downward, falling silent for as long as several seconds.

Rockefeller III leaned his bowed body slightly forward by half an inch without pressing for answers, only extremely slowly loosening his half-clasped cross on his knees.

Samuel gently lifted the knuckles that had been pressing against the edge of the tabletop just now and rested them by his thigh,

while Isabelle's breathing was so light it was almost inaudible.

No one dared to speak at this moment.

"Then, in the blink of an eye, five hundred years passed."

Prince Dao Dun raised his eyes again, his tone lighter than before, as if reading out word by word from some old archive that had been flipped through countless times yet still could not bear to be re-read, those historical records that had faded to grayish-white:

"Suddenly one day, some Zeta people pulled up the original physiological archives in the database and made a comparison with the Zeta people from five hundred years ago."

"Then we discovered that compared to the Zeta people five hundred years ago, our bodies had become completely different."

"Our heads had become incomparably large, and our bodies incomparably small."

"That kind of bodily beauty belonging to higher intelligent life in the past could no longer be seen on the bodies of our ethnic group."

Rockefeller III, Samuel, Isabelle, Jacob, and William simultaneously tightened their bodies slightly.

They were all smart people, and everyone understood at the exact same instant upon hearing this sentence:

Prince Dao Dun specifically naming to watch the South Korean girl group dance hot dances was not out of any adult needs at all.

The bodily flexibility and vitality displayed by those girl group members on stage, that kind of human bodily beauty still naturally evolved on this planet,

happened to be the things that his ethnic group had long ago lost forever in the cycle of technological dependence.

He wanted to see with his own eyes through the glass that ancient art which no longer existed on the Zeta Star,

just like humans standing in front of a museum's holographic projection, gazing at a fragment of an ancient Greek marble statue from thirty thousand years ago, which was a deep longing for his own ethnic group's past history.

It was just a pity that the plastic surgery technology over in South Korea was too developed, and silicone fillers were too common.

Across the screen, they had also fooled that pair of black eyeballs he brought over from the correct spacetime together.

This was also the true reason that caused Prince Dao Dun to shed tears in sorrow just now.