While isolating and interrogating the more than one thousand prisoners, Li Qingsong also dispatched several hundred clones to try operating the electronic devices used by these aliens and search them for relevant documents and intelligence.
The writing system used by these aliens was rather strange.
Each character occupied a 4×4 grid. Each grid was divided into sixteen smaller squares, and every small square had two possible states: either it contained a small black dot or it did not.
Thus, the sixteen small squares had a total of 2^16 possible configurations, each corresponding to a character.
Among the total 65,536 characters, some also had multiple meanings and pronunciations, making the system extremely complex.
But that was fine. By now, Li Qingsong had completely mastered this writing and language system.
He reviewed the files while conducting interrogations.
In the interrogation room of the highest-ranking surviving alien, a clone asked coldly through a glass wall, "Who are you?"
His voice was translated into the aliens' language through a hastily made translator.
The alien seemed extremely agitated. Instead of answering the clone's question, he struggled violently in the interrogation chair and roared, "Despicable! Shameless! You vile scum!
"Is this the only kind of despicable, shameless tactic you know? Is this the only way you can win?
"If you have the guts, fight us fair and square!"
Li Qingsong's original body unconsciously scratched his head.
Even he felt that his previous tactics had indeed been somewhat shameless.
But... so what? Shameless or not, winning was all that mattered.
He had the interrogation clone sneer again. "Does your civilization not have a culture of war? On the battlefield, what does shamelessness have to do with anything? Winning is everything!
"Now that you've lost, instead of reflecting on your own mistakes, you blame us for being shameless.