Grass, a plant.
After finally getting a second chance at life, was he really going to die at the hands of a Valkyrie right away?
Yang Ming decided he had to save himself.
He began carefully reviewing this body's recent memories, hoping to find some useful information.
Unfortunately, he found the Imperial Valkyrie Program in Hanton's memories, and confirmed that Valkyries really existed.
Fortunately, Hanton's life over the past two years had been monotonous, so it didn't take much effort to skim through it.
Hanton's recent memories could be summed up simply:
A medal;
Two mistresses;
Three wishes.
Yang Ming was already exhausted, so he simply fell asleep. By the time he woke again, he could open his eyes, but kept them shut and pretended to be asleep.
If he wanted to survive on this Research Ship, he had to play Hanton's role well.
Only by staying alive could Yang Ming figure out why he had ended up in the world of Abyss, and have a chance to investigate the connection between Earth's explosion and this virtual reality game.
First, let's take a look at the three wishes of that idiot Hanton:
One, he hoped to win Professor Gigrov's favor, gain the chance to have his body modified, and become a powerful Valkyrie Warrior.
Two, he hoped to be transferred back to Prime Star or another prosperous, stable region of the Empire when he turned thirty, then switch careers and become a security officer in a city with a lively nightlife.
Three, he hoped to marry an Imperial Noble. A Female Noble, specifically.
As for these three wishes, Yang Ming, who had taken over this body, could only say he was sorry.
He could help fulfill the second wish, if he got the chance.
But the first and third wishes were out of the question.
Why stop being a normal person and willingly become some half-human, half-monster made of bioengineered fascia?
That wasn't something Yang Ming could accept, aesthetically speaking.
Besides, when Yang Ming played Abyss, he had spent half his time with the Empire faction. Of all the Imperial Noble NPCs he'd met, even the most chaste Female Noble had three or four lovers!
Marry a noblewoman... Was he trying to evolve to the point where he could use photosynthesis to meet his nutritional needs?
Come to think of it,
this world was so real.
Yang Ming could breathe freely, and when he'd opened his eyes earlier, there had been none of the unavoidable wide-angle distortion caused by a VR headset at the edge of his vision.
What about the Attribute Board?
The Attribute Board that showed his stats when he clicked on it?
In the game Abyss, even the most minimal interface kept an Attribute Board button. Now, there was no sign of one at all.
Yang Ming felt that he was in a real world.
That realization gradually grew clearer and more certain.
After looking over Hanton's three wishes, he turned his attention to those... two mistresses.
Space travel was so lonely.
On a cramped Research Ship whose corridors formed a maze, one that usually couldn't return to port for more than half a year after departure, it was only natural that men and women with biological needs would be drawn to one another by their bio-factors, share a few wonderful moments, and rehearse the act of reproduction...
Nobody thought much of it. As long as it didn't interfere with work, there wouldn't be any trouble, and after leaving the ship, there was no need to keep in touch.
Yang Ming watched a few clips from the memory fragments, and soon felt his body reacting.
At least it worked.
That was good.
He quickly sealed away those memories, in case they triggered some uncontrollable physical reaction.
As for the "one medal," that was much simpler.
Hanton had always worked hard and done an excellent job on several high-risk assignments. He'd recently received a Thorn Flower medal, roughly the equivalent of a gold star in kindergarten.
At that point, Yang Ming fell into a long silence.
Earth had exploded, and he'd come back to life in the world of Abyss, at least thirty years before the game had launched. He'd become the hardworking, popular-with-women Third Mate on this Research Ship.
But his struggle to survive wasn't over.
The Valkyrie's rebellion loomed over Yang Ming like a dark cloud.
Should he try to stop the Valkyrie's rebellion?
Or find a chance to leave this Research Ship before it happened?
Yang Ming thought it through carefully.
His top priority was to figure out how much time remained before the Valkyrie started the rebellion.
If the rebellion was still years away, he didn't need to panic. He'd have plenty of chances to escape the maelstrom.
Time is crucial.
Yang Ming didn't keep reading Hanton's memory fragments. He decided to find a calendar himself, making this small personal task the start of his new life.
He had to find some way to fit into this familiar yet unfamiliar environment.
This Research Ship was conducting secret, evil human experimentation. To maintain confidentiality, the use of Network Terminals was forbidden on board, and no one was allowed to have extra electronic devices on their work clothes.
I should be able to find a calendar in my quarters.
—A decent enough tutorial mission.
Yang Ming slowly sat up, still feeling a little dizzy.
He'd been injured while working outside, when he'd hit his head repairing the Research Ship's tail stabilizer. He must have a concussion.
Yang Ming looked down at the body that would be his from now on.
So muscular!
He meant the chest muscles.
His bulging pecs nearly burst out of his white tank top, and his two thick thighs filled out the pale blue uniform trousers. A pair of beige-blue boots sat nearby.
In fact, Hanton had a Level 2 Combat Mech Operator certification, had graduated from a proper military academy, and had taken part in more than ten minor battles.
Yang Ming bent down to put on the boots, taking in the cramped medical bay, packed with all kinds of equipment and cabinets, as he felt the simulated gravity through the floor.
An oval window in the ceiling looked out on a dazzling nebula.
He stared blankly for a while.
Only when he heard footsteps coming from behind the curtain beside him did Yang Ming come back to himself and clear the confusion from his eyes.
A middle-aged doctor with pale blond hair pulled back the curtain.
Her features suggested mixed Eastern and Western ancestry, like someone from Earth. Her face was dignified, her figure slender, and the crow's-feet around her eyes were becoming hard to hide.
Hanton knew this doctor well.
Lina was the ship's doctor on the Research Ship, responsible for the health of its hundreds of crew members and soldiers. She was a gentle person.
"How are you feeling, Hanton?" Dr. Lina asked.
"Not bad. Did I suffer any lasting damage?"
"You're healthy. You just can't do anything strenuous for now, and you need to avoid bumping into things when you walk."
Dr. Lina handed him a transparent bag containing more than a dozen yellow capsules.
"Go back to your quarters and keep resting. You've been asleep here long enough. If you get a headache or feel dizzy, take one. It'll help you feel better quickly."
"Thanks."
Yang Ming spoke softly.
Then he remembered something and didn't continue the conversation with Lina.
It would seem a little strange to suddenly ask someone what year it was in the Imperial Calendar.
He left the medical bay without a hitch and walked with his head down along a corridor barely wide enough for three people to walk side by side.
The corridor stretched almost as far as the eye could see. Every few meters there was a narrow hatch, each with a peephole equipped with biometric identification. Beyond them were single-person quarters for senior crew members and officers.
Fortunately, a Third Mate was technically a skilled laborer, but still counted as a senior crew member.
The medical bay stood at the edge of the senior crew quarters. Yang Ming passed through two turns and reached his own door, already having worked out when the events of Abyss took place.
Yang Ming was a veteran player, and the way Abyss converted galactic time had once been a hot topic among players.
The game had launched in [New Imperial Calendar 753]. Counting back thirty years brought it to [New Calendar 723].
The description in the scenario background was vague. It only said that a rebellion had happened thirty years earlier, without giving an exact date.
The biometric scan went through, and the metal door slowly opened to reveal a ten-square-meter cabin.
It was fairly tidy, probably because a woman often came over to spend the night.
Yang Ming closed the hatch, went straight to the desk, grabbed the long, rectangular digital clock, and began pressing its buttons. He could read the language and numbers on the display without any trouble.
Yang Ming only realized it belatedly: the language he'd heard and spoken earlier had been Galactic Common, and he'd understood it without the slightest difficulty.
Oh, thanks, Hanton.
Let's see how long until New Calendar 723...
He'd already opened the calendar. He squinted at it, then froze in place.
New Calendar 724, 01, 22.
Damn it!
That was last year.
Before you continue