Abyss Solo

"Them? Who?"

"The Four Elders of the Military Department," Daphne said, "There are hundreds of warships nearby, most of which are directly controlled by their loyal forces, and two fleets have been transferred here overnight. They intend to harm you! Hanton!"

"I won't die, Daphne."

Yang Ming said softly, "Have you forgotten? I can use the technology of cellular regeneration to come back to life; it only takes a little time."

"No, Hanton, you shouldn't take this risk!"

Daphne continued:

"We need to go back immediately, with your strength, you should be able to leave safely. We'll go back to Emperor Star right away and request protection from your granduncle.

"At such a critical moment, they won't care about so-called public opinion. They can, they absolutely can use a flimsy excuse like claiming foreign forces have infiltrated the Empire to cover up their attack on you! They!"

"Daphne! Look at me!"

Yang Ming held Daphne's delicate arm, their gazes entangled.

Yang Ming felt a slight pang of reluctance, lowered his head and leaned forward.

Daphne thought Yang Ming wanted to kiss her; although it was inappropriate at the moment, she could not refuse the request of her beloved man and closed her eyes slightly.

Yang Ming's nose tip gently brushed against hers, quietly releasing a safe electric current strong enough to cause fainting. Daphne opened her eyes, then her body fell back limply, and Yang Ming quickly supported her back.

'This foolish Princess.'

Yang Ming shook his head.

Hiding in the shuttle's restroom, Yang Ming spoke: "Make sure she gets back to Emperor Star safely."

In front of Yang Ming appeared a line of tiny words:

[If the Imperial Songstress dies here, it will trigger a bigger tidal wave of public opinion.]

"I can achieve my goals without resorting to this method."

[Yes, you have that capability. What you lack is just ten to twenty Galaxy Years of development time, and mechanical civilization could sweep across the Milky Way. Hopefully, she won't add more trouble; my original plan did not account for Daphne's subsequent impact.]

"Thank you."

Yang Ming said softly, placing Daphne on the adjacent sofa, then called in Da Wa and Er Wa.

He didn't need to worry about the remaining matters, everything was arranged properly.

Now, all he needed to do was wait for the scheduled speech time to arrive.

Yang Ming raised his hand and adjusted the interface of his perception helmet, adding a simple countdown within his field of vision. He then held his breath, quietly staring ahead.

If destiny could trace a trajectory, then now, the fate of billions of humans has begun to converge toward this narrow cabin.

Yang Ming thought about the setting of the game "Abyss" he used to play.

Back then, the Empire was weakened by constant insect disasters and the relentless pursuits from both the liberal and democratic camps, causing a decline in national strength, failure in external plundering mechanisms, and overall downward development, with increasingly acute social issues, rebellions rising everywhere, and military mutinies occurring frequently.

The current Empire, due to early interventions by the White Ghost, no longer faces the threats of insect disasters and has overwhelmed the New Federation, though still fraught with internal issues, the Empire's healthy operation of the external plundering mechanism helps suppress and dilute class contradictions with benefits continually squeezed out by the authorities.

Historical trends seem irreversible.

Yang Ming couldn't help but think.

The Faya people devised the rules of the game within the Milky Way; is the fate of its various governments also calculated by the Faya people?

Or, are the Faya people merely observing and forecasting, unable to truly interfere too profoundly with the complex collective in the material world?

High-dimensional World.

The framework of the Empire is rooted in the founding Emperor Levi Sherman's personal ideals.

Individual dimension ascension.

At all costs, individual dimension ascension.

Efficient resource integration through the Empire's system, using methods replete with legacy toxicity over millennia to fulfill personal needs—what, if anything, connects such a Levi Sherman with greatness?

Of course, from another angle, what Levi Sherman calls aggressive progress, is in most cases considered laissez-faire by Yang Ming.

There's not much to be done; the concept of not endangering others' safety and interests remains a basic quality among Earth's youth.

'Is this a reflection of a less advanced form of civilization?'

Yang Ming thought, it isn't necessarily...

Knock, knock, knock.

A knocking sound.

Yang Ming stopped his flurry of thoughts, 'Yang Ming' tidied his collar, slowly stood up, and nodded to Da Wa.

Daphne slept soundly on the sofa.

Walking out this door, Yang Ming was met by two squads of spirited honor guards.

Along the red carpet laid on the floor, Yang Ming headed toward the 'studio' of the command ship, loud applause already echoed from the dozens of noble officers who had been waiting for quite some time.

Yang Ming raised his hand to wave, met with lukewarm responses from these non-frontline noble officers.

There wasn't much to argue about.

This place is about to turn into a sea of flames; the eighteen hundred plus individuals aboard this ship are destined as sacrifices under an ideal plan.

Yang Ming smilingly walked up to the podium, nodding slightly to various directions.

He wasn't entirely certain he could complete today's speech, yet he already felt the attention from every corner of the Milky Way.

The illuminating spotlight gathering brightness wasn't blinding;

The prepped recording hoverballs symbolically adjusted their positions.

The on-site director, appearing several hundred times more nervous than Yang Ming, made a gesture for Yang Ming to proceed;