Dangerous Technology Administration

The light from the incandescent bulb gradually steadied, and Chen Fan finally saw what was in front of him clearly—

It was merely a portrait of a deity hanging on the wall.

Chen Fan's face turned deathly pale. He raised his slightly trembling right hand and wiped the fine cold sweat from his forehead.

Perhaps it was the lighting, or perhaps the bizarre scenes from moments ago had affected him. For a moment, his eyes had played tricks on him.

After the initial terror subsided, an inexplicable fury rose within Chen Fan.

Tear it up!

Tear up that portrait!

His bloodshot eyes stared at the female deity in the portrait, filled with indescribable madness and fear buried deep within.

Time passed, second by second.

In the end, Chen Fan clenched his back teeth and relied on his remaining rationality to suppress the urge to tear the portrait apart—destroying a deity's portrait in this religious era was obviously an unforgivable sin!

He looked away from the portrait, stepped over the filthy clothes scattered by the door, and staggered toward the desk. He yanked open the matching drawer of the wooden desk.

Seeing the loose sheets covered in writing inside the drawer, Chen Fan instinctively let out a breath of relief.

He carefully took them out and began reading them closely under the dim yellow light.

Every sheet covered in writing had been carefully marked with a date.

Using a paper calendar beside the desk for reference, Chen Fan arranged the notes in chronological order.

At a glance, Chen Fan noticed the problem:

At first, a month ago, the writing on the pages had been perfectly clear. But as time passed, it gradually became sloppier, every stroke seeming rushed.

This was especially obvious in the notes from the last three days!

By today—the day the original owner had died—the writing had completely devolved into a mass of abstract, twisted lines that others would struggle to understand.

Clearly, the original owner's mental state had steadily deteriorated over the past month, then taken a sharp turn for the worse in the last three days until he committed suicide!

Thinking of the strange deity statue in the living room, Chen Fan's expression immediately darkened.

He suppressed his restless emotions and began carefully reading the earliest notes.

June 18, 2067. Clear. The God Chosen Ceremony will be held again tomorrow. Come to think of it, the ceremonies have been happening more and more frequently these past few years...

June 19, 2067. Overcast. At the God Chosen Ceremony, I actually became one of the God Chosen!

June 20, 2067. Clear. Everything changed after becoming one of the God Chosen. The neighbors obviously respect me much more now, except for Sister Huai next door. For some reason, her attitude toward me has changed...

June 21, 2067. Clear. The Church Deacon delivered a great deal of supplies to us. Our standard of living has improved considerably. Thank the Lord for His blessings...

Chen Fan silently flipped through the poor-quality, slightly yellowed sheets of rough paper in his hands, his eyes gleaming with thought.

It was clear that the original owner's family had not been well-off. Becoming one of the God Chosen had undoubtedly brought him unprecedented glory.

Thus, the notes from those first few days brimmed with praise and gratitude for the gods.

Since most of the notes recorded trivial daily matters, Chen Fan sped up his reading slightly.

Suddenly, his brows rose, and his rapidly flipping hand stopped.

July 1, 2067. Heavy rain. I went to the church today. I don't know why, but the people at the church... were acting strangely toward me.

From this day onward, the handwriting began to grow messier, while the entries themselves became shorter.

July 2, 2067. The next God Chosen Ceremony will be held on August 18. The Church Deacon said that our group of the God Chosen will head to the God Kingdom that day to serve the gods.

July 3, 2067. I heard... none of the previous God Chosen ever returned.

July 4, 2067. I don't understand... Is the God Kingdom really that wonderful? Why are those God Chosen unwilling to return?

Looking at the messy handwriting, Chen Fan felt his heart sink.

Heading to the God Kingdom to serve the gods...

As a modern man, he immediately detected something deeply chilling in those highly suggestive words.

Fuck, this isn't human sacrifice, is it?

Chen Fan quickly raised his head and glanced at the calendar beside him.

July 18...

In other words, one month from now, he would be attending the so-called God Chosen Ceremony!

The moment he realized that, Chen Fan's face changed dramatically.

"Fuck!!!"

What kind of joke was this?

He had finally been given a second life. He had no intention of becoming a sacrifice for some god!!

No, no, it was not set in stone yet!

The so-called human sacrifice was only his own speculation. Maybe there was still a way out!

Breathing rapidly, he frantically flipped through the notes in his hands, trying to find clues that could disprove his guess.

But...

The handwriting in the notes had already become so messy that it was nearly illegible.

Straining his eyes, Chen Fan could only make out several words that appeared again and again.

Fake! It's all fake!!

The God Chosen? It's all a scam!!

False gods!

"Creak..."

A refreshing cool breeze blew in through the open wooden window. The window swayed slightly, and the incandescent bulb on the ceiling swayed with it.

Watching the shadow on the yellowed paper continuously shake, Chen Fan felt his limbs turn cold.

Stimulated by the cool breeze, he shuddered violently. His bloodshot eyes revealed intense terror!

The gods were fake. The God Chosen were fake. Everything was fake!

No wonder the original owner had committed suicide—the collapse of one's faith was enough to destroy a person from the very core!

Then what was the truth? What had the original owner discovered?

He did not know!

But there was one thing he could be sure of:

The God Chosen Ceremony one month from now would very likely be the day he died!

"Xiao Fan?"

A familiar voice called from outside the wooden door. "It's time for bed. Don't forget, you still have to go to the church tomorrow to study!"

Study?

Study what? How to become an excellent living sacrifice?

Chen Fan fell silent for a moment, then answered in a low voice before switching off the incandescent light above him with a prayer.

Dim starlight streamed in through the window and fell upon the deity's portrait. The once beautiful Goddess had somehow become savage and eerie.

Lying in bed, Chen Fan's thoughts were in turmoil. Confusion, unease, terror... countless negative emotions filled his heart.

Time slowly passed. At last, he could no longer withstand the double exhaustion of body and mind, and his heavy eyelids closed.

This was an incomparably vast space, filled with distorted bands of light scattered throughout in varying densities and without any discernible pattern.

The light bands were brilliant, bearing colors impossible to describe—they far exceeded the limits of human perception.

More accurately, this "vastness" was merely Chen Fan's own impression.

It was like being thrown into outer space with nothing around him. An involuntary yet familiar sensation of drifting rose within Chen Fan.

After a brief moment of confusion, Chen Fan suddenly realized: Wasn't this the scene he experienced before transmigrating?!

Could he have died again?

He hadn't even done anything wrong. Could his luck really be this terrible?!

Just as he was about to examine his surroundings carefully, intense dizziness struck him, accompanied by vague, meaningless whispers ringing in his ears.

Like the static of a radio failing to receive a signal, Chen Fan frowned uncomfortably and instinctively covered his ears.

But it had no effect. The whispers still filled his mind, and they continued growing louder with time!

This is bad!

That was the only thought that flashed through Chen Fan's mind before the incomprehensible murmurs and whispers scattered his consciousness.

Suddenly, amid the obscure whispers, an extremely faint yet remarkably clear voice emerged.

"Pan-Universal Human Alliance Central Academy of Sciences, Dangerous Technology Administration, call number 3673. TE913 Research Ship, respond upon receipt."

"Signal detected on the corresponding frequency. Attempting to establish contact..."

"No response to the first communication request. Initiating the second communication request..."

Chen Fan, his mind muddled by the obscure whispers, opened his mouth and shouted with every bit of strength he had:

"Fuck your grandfather! Turn off Freedom Microphone!!"

The next second.

"Communication link successfully established. Target confirmed as a carbon-based intelligent life-form."

"Coordinates successfully located. Preparing for ultra-long-distance cross-universe transmission..."