Information Integration

Kor Port Prison is a medium-sized men's prison converted from a kilometer-class comprehensive transport ship.

It features a permanent simulated gravity field, with hundreds of cells distributed across six levels, equipped with facilities such as a recreation room, media room, lounge, library, and gym.

Because it falls under the jurisdiction of the Interstellar Court, this prison occasionally houses exiled political prisoners, for whom the spacious single rooms on the top floor are reserved.

Local criminals of Kor Port are housed on the middle two levels, typically in double or triple occupancy rooms, each equipped with an independent bathroom.

The bottom three levels are crowded and chaotic, housing vicious criminals exiled across the stars, with the inmate population far exceeding capacity.

Occasionally, one can find notorious Star Pirates here, as well as serial killers kept in the lowest level, shackled at all times, and even non-human but humanoid cosmic lifeforms—though the truly non-humanoid ones are not accepted here.

For the guards of the lower three levels, working at Kor Port Prison is by no means an easy task.

And the problem they fear most is exactly what is happening now:

A sudden commotion erupted on the fifth level of the prison. These energetic inmates, with no outlet for their vigor, were frantically shaking the bars of their cages, letting out strange shrieks, and whistling through fingers that had touched heaven knows what.

Armed guards gathered quickly, running toward the direction the inmates were facing.

Piercing sirens echoed through every corner of the fifth level.

Guards armed with stun batons swarmed in from all directions, roaring for the inmates to quiet down, but when they reached the scene, even they could not remain composed.

Soon, the guards summoned the Deputy Warden, the chief guard of the lower three levels, Gulipa.

Gulipa was an old gentleman wearing a tuxedo and carrying a walking stick. His hairline had receded to the top of his head, and his graying hair was slightly disheveled, but as he limped onto the scene, the inmates everywhere quickly quieted down, the previous mania completely vanished.

"Chief, it's right here."

Gulipa adjusted his monocle and frowned as he looked at the cell ahead.

Behind thirty-two alloy bars spaced twelve centimeters apart, six burly men lay in the dim light.

They had been arranged into an oval, all twelve arms dislocated, each person's mouth filled with the toes of the person in front of them. Connected head-to-tail like this, they resembled a bizarre Ouroboros.

"Don't move them," Gulipa frowned, "go outside and bring in a professional orthopedist."

Several guards hurried away.

Gulipa looked at the strange young man quietly reading in the corner, his brows furrowing tightly.

This young man had the standard features of a Sherman: a broad forehead, smooth cheekbones, a straight bridge of the nose, and slightly sunken eye sockets—all characteristic traits of the Sherman people.

"Did you do this?" Gulipa asked in a low voice.

Yang Ming put down the book in his hand: "They said they wanted to perform a new style of wrestling for a newcomer like me, claiming it was a local custom, and then this happened."

"Is that so?"

Gulipa scrutinized the six burly men lying on the ground for a few moments, then turned to look at the guards who had brought Yang Ming in.

A guard lowered his head and stepped forward, whispering a few words into Gulipa's ear.

A playful glint appeared in Gulipa's eyes: "How did you do it? Imperial Soldier."

"I have undergone the most rigorous combat training."

Yang Ming believed that his actions just now had not revealed strength beyond that of a normal person; he had taken down these six burly men using pure technique.

The real cheat was his reaction speed, which made 'time seem to slow down.'

"I need to place you in solitary confinement temporarily," Gulipa said, "that is the rule here."

Yang Ming asked: "May I bring these few books with me?"

"Of course, our prison practices the most humane management," Gulipa smiled, "if you can manage to read in that kind of claustrophobic environment, that is quite a skill."

Yang Ming stood up. A large group of guards raised their Laser Guns simultaneously. He walked toward the corner without changing his expression, picking up the dusty books that introduced the customs of Kor Port and the jurisprudence of the Interstellar Court.

As he walked past the six burly men, those six completely immobile fellows twitched all over, their eyes filled with terror, their mouths emitting continuous muffled whimpers.

Yang Ming revealed a kind smile, handed the books to the guards, and voluntarily extended his hands, being shackled and cuffed under the watchful eyes of the Laser Guns.

Suddenly, a guard nearby struck out, slamming a baton toward Yang Ming's neck.

Yang Ming frowned slightly, his body reacting almost reflexively: he ducked, tilted his head, shifted his shoulders, and stepped back... The baton grazed Yang Ming's shoulder, while Yang Ming's hands had already pushed toward the guard's neck.

Yang Ming did not actually strike the man's neck; his fingers stopped two or three centimeters away, but the latter dared not move, his breathing becoming labored.

A few seconds later, the sound of Laser Guns being taken off safety echoed all around.

"Everyone, stop!"

Gulipa scolded with a frown: "Are you not embarrassed enough! You brats! I tell you to strengthen your training, and all you do is slack off!"

Before Yang Ming withdrew his palm, he patted the guard's throat and smiled: "I am an active-duty officer of the Sherman Empire. You may target me personally, but please do not provoke the dignity of the Empire."

"Yes, yes, sir," the guard replied in a low voice.

Yang Ming did not say anything more; it was best to stop while ahead.

The guards around him were now looking at him with a hint of fear.

Gulipa's gaze flickered, and he said indifferently: "Send him to Cell Block 3, seventy-two hours, and... three meals and fresh water provided as normal."

Yang Ming smiled with narrowed eyes.

The reputation of the Strongest Empire in the Galaxy was truly useful.

The Solitary Cell was a cramped room of six square meters, though the conditions were not as dire as Yang Ming had imagined.

The hardest part to endure here was actually the seventy-two hours of hunger, but Chief Guard Gulipa had provided special care, which made things much more comfortable for Yang Ming.

A modified human required more nutrition.

The six metal walls emitted a milky white glow, and aside from the metal surfaces, there was nothing else in the room.

Yang Ming fashioned a simple cushion out of his military trousers and jacket. Dressed only in a tank top and boxers, he opened the travel book that introduced the local customs of Kor Port.

Soon, he found several local maps of Kor Port and imprinted the information into his mind.

Yang Ming did not know if Hanton had been this clever since childhood, or if the Valkyrie Gene Fluid was also enhancing his brain, but he seemed to possess a photographic memory.

This was quite good; at the very least, it was not a bad thing.

Several hours later.

After finishing his simple lunch, Yang Ming used the books he had finished reading as a small pillow, lay down comfortably, and began to contemplate his path forward.

While on the research ship, he had absolutely no opportunity to think about these things.

Yang Ming hated grand propositions, such as saving the world or saving Earth.

That was not something he could accomplish alone.

However, Yang Ming felt that if he had the ability, he should save his family. His parents had toiled for most of their lives and had yet to enjoy their time; and then there was his high school sister, whose personality was atrocious, always snatching his snacks and stealing his toothbrush to scrub her shoes...

"Brother, how much of a dowry will you have to spend to marry a sister-in-law as pretty as me in the future! Oh ho ho!"

Dead memories suddenly began to attack his brain, making Yang Ming feel quite unwell.

Whether to save her or not, that could be discussed later.

Yang Ming summarized all his problems simply and finally posed three questions to himself:

① Why did he come to this world, and who sent him here?

② What is the meaning of his arrival here, or rather, what can he achieve?

③ What benefits can he gain by utilizing the information he possesses?

Regarding the first question, based on the current valid information, Yang Ming could not provide an answer at all.

No matter how one looked at it, this had nothing to do with science and leaned toward metaphysics, though in reality, it was still a scientific question.

Regarding the second question, Yang Ming could now answer half of it.

If, thirty years later, Earth players appeared en masse, regardless of how they arrived, he had to find a way to tell them that the game Abyss was not just a game, and that humans were a common species within the Milky Way Galaxy.

It was highly likely an examination given to Earth civilization by a higher civilization; if they failed the exam, the final result would be the destruction of Earth by the Ninth Cataclysm legion.

Although there were still too many mysteries involved;

Based on existing information and his own experiences, Yang Ming had to link the "Ninth Cataclysm" plot, which would occur five years after Abyss launched, to the destruction of Earth.

Indeed, Yang Ming felt that the first thing he could do was to survive for thirty galactic years and send a warning to his own civilization.

[Minx Port].

This place name suddenly leaped into his mind.

According to the player's perspective, Earth humans, under the guidance of alien civilizations, developed technology through cutscenes and filled out the tech tree through character dialogue, stepping into interstellar civilization at the speed of light.

Minx Port was the first stop for players after they stepped out of Earth thirty years later.

Players would choose their factions at Minx Port, determine their development paths, and obtain spaceship licenses, professional instrument operation certificates, and so on.

Yang Ming felt that if he could find Minx Port, he might be able to discover Earth in advance.

"Ding-dong," Yang Ming muttered in his heart, "Main Quest One unlocked: Find Minx Port."

This damn sense of ritual.

The third question was much more complicated.

Yang Ming carefully recalled the game events that had left a deep impression on him, as well as the incredibly rich historical background of Abyss.

To be honest, he rarely paid attention to the game's plot when he played, which resulted in him only having vague impressions of many major events now.

Moreover, it was still thirty galactic years before the game's official launch.

"Hmm?"

Yang Ming suddenly remembered something with great potential.

Mech Twilight.

Two or three years ago, which was the third year after the Abyss game launched, Yang Ming had watched an interview with a player who had become a billionaire by playing the game.

In Abyss, that player discovered a hidden planet, obtained actual control over a city named "Mech Twilight," and gained a massive fortune by selling the control rights to a conglomerate behind a large legion.

In that interview, the player revealed many detailed specifics—how he had piloted a mining ship and accidentally entered the Dust Belt, how he entered the vortex, and how he picked up the Control Key.

In fact, this Chosen One even provided footage shot from a first-person perspective, returning to that star sector in the Abyss game to reenact the journey of exploration.

Yang Ming had once been incredibly envious of that player.

And now...

Sorry, Chosen One.

Yang Ming gave a guilty smile, then shamelessly forgave himself.

Oh right, there was something even more important.

He needed a sufficient supply of Gene Stabilizing Potion, or Gene Suppression Liquid.

In Abyss, the main reason modified warriors had to spend money was to continuously purchase Gene Stabilizers or Gene Suppression Liquid; otherwise, they would lose their combat effectiveness, grow hair all over their bodies, and suffer from muscle edema...

Those were just punishment mechanics in the game, where the cost of a player's gene runaway was negligible.

But now, if Yang Ming did not take gene-stabilizing drugs for a long period, the result could be the same fate as Brother Ji in Lost Voice—losing his sanity, turning into a tumorous monster, and becoming the next Ancient God Lifeform.

At this point, Yang Ming made a simple summary.

The most urgent task at present was to find a stable channel for Gene Stabilizing Potion; he had to obtain new stabilizer before the liquid currently in his body lost its effect.

The subsequent phased goal—finding Minsk Port and Mech Twilight.

To achieve these two goals, the item Yang Ming needed most right now was...

A spaceship capable of jumping. Note: preferably one with autopilot.

This difficulty was not low.

Three days flashed by in the blink of an eye.

Yang Ming ate and slept, slept and ate, feeling as though he had even gained a bit of weight.

Several fully armed guards brought Yang Ming to a clean four-person cell, which was occupied by a fat man and an old man, both of whom seemed to have relatively easygoing personalities.

Yang Ming gave a simple self-introduction, shook hands with both of them, and then closed his eyes to doze on the hard bunk bed covered with a simple mattress.

The two roommates were very tactful, and also very nervous.

They had naturally heard about the "passionate" story between this new Imperial Soldier and the six burly men, so they moved their respective cots to the corners, maintained a safe distance from Yang Ming, and gave him a sufficiently spacious territory.

Yang Ming had originally wanted to ask them about the basic situation of the prison and precautions for breaking out, but it seemed they needed a certain amount of time to get along first.

The simple bookshelf in the corner also held a few books, and Yang Ming began to read with great interest.

The text inside was Galactic Common, which was much the same as the script of the Sherman Empire, though Yang Ming found it a bit difficult to read at first.

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound of soft leather heels striking the metal floor repeatedly drove away Yang Ming's focus.

"No. 0639, Hanton."

Near lunchtime, Chief Guard Gulipa appeared at the cell door holding a square piece of glass and said in an elegant tone:

"Meeting Room No. 12, your superior is waiting for you."