Zhao Pengcheng suddenly remembered why he felt a sense of familiarity with the old man.
Professor Mei was once a big celebrity in Wuzhong City, with a status and reputation no less than that of the mayor and the richest man. His feats of going abroad to make a living in his youth and returning to serve his country were once widely praised and became a hot topic of discussion on university campuses; and his bold remarks of often despising the powerful and wealthy and looking down on them also impressed Zhao Pengcheng when he was young.
Mei Yiqiu was once the chief scientific advisor to the United Nations Space Management Committee and one of the leaders of the Third Space Foundation, composed of human scientists. In the fierce struggle between the original humans and the parasitic humans, he never backed down. Until the humans and the Parasitic Consciousness signed a peace agreement, he refused to sign it at the United Nations General Assembly and went into hiding underground, becoming the leader of the resistance organization.
Zhao Pengcheng then carefully examined the old man on the screen—his hair was completely white, like silver threads; his cheekbones were high, his cheeks were sunken, and he was so thin that only a wrinkled skin remained; his hand holding the pipe was trembling slightly, as if he had mild Parkinson's disease.
Although he showed his advanced age, he was still vigorous. His eyes were deep, his voice was loud, and he exuded wisdom. The smoke from his pipe flickered, and the smoke he inhaled seemed to float out of the screen in a 3D effect, adding to his mystique.
Zhao Pengcheng finally understood why they had imprisoned him. It was a struggle between two races, just as they had repeatedly assassinated human scientists and were still hunting down members of the resistance organization.
"Don't expect to get anything from me," Zhao Peng said to the screen. He recalled saying something similar to Qingmu in a dream ten years ago. In the end, he still said many things he shouldn't have, but that was because he had a killer move to trap his opponent. Today, he knew he couldn't escape.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not interested in your organization's secrets." Mei Yiqiu didn't seem like an interrogator at all, but more like chatting with an old friend. "Because I know you don't know any more than I do. For the past ten years, you've lost contact with your organization in prison, and you know nothing about the outside world. You're just a pitiful, lonely child, unloved by anyone."
"Then why are you locking me up? Just to torture me to satisfy your pleasure?" Zhao Pengcheng sneered. "If you knew anything about us, you would know that I can escape the influence of human emotions and also block out human nerve pain. My pain tolerance is a thousand times greater than yours. No matter what torture you use, it's nothing to me."
"I have no interest in torturing you," Mei Yiqiu laughed. "I know you're not afraid of pain or suffering, but you're afraid of death. You've endured so many years in prison, finally witnessing your race's victory—oh, let me clarify, a temporary victory—you wouldn't want to die right away, would you?"
Zhao Pengcheng snorted, refusing to answer the question.
Mei Yiqiu continued, "I don't know how large your race is, but there aren't many people coming to Earth right now, I think it's no more than a million. But there are seven billion people on Earth, and you can only occupy the top by exploiting the weaknesses of the pyramid-shaped structure of human society. So every consciousness that comes to Earth is precious, right? Plus, you live much longer than us in some ways, which makes it all the more regrettable for you to die. You don't want to die before you have any chance to transfer your consciousness to another human, right?"
"What exactly are you trying to say?" Zhao Pengcheng asked.
Mei Yiqiu a deep drag of his pipe, then put it down and looked at the screen, saying, "I want to trade your life for Qingmu."
" Qingmu? Isn't he lying in bed?"
"Thanks to you."
"I don't know where he is."
Mei Yiqiu asked, "Are you very cold right now?"
Zhao Pengcheng said dismissively, "I'm not afraid of the cold."
Mei Yiqiu shook his head and said, "The place you are in now has a volume of 37.2 cubic meters. Don't mistake it for a cold storage; we don't need it to store tuna. This is a laboratory—the world's most advanced low-temperature laboratory."
"The current temperature is -1°C. If I lower the temperature to -10°C or lower, how long can you hold out? Of course, you're not afraid of the cold; your race is very strong. Even if your physical body freezes to death, your consciousness can still exist for a long time. Although I don't know where you would go if you were separated from your body and couldn't find a new host—your ancestral planet? Or drifting in the universe? But I think there's one place you definitely wouldn't want to go."
"Where?" Zhao Pengcheng suddenly asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
" The Centaurus Boomerang Nebula," Mei Yiqiu said.
Zhao Pengcheng began searching his memory for this vague astronomical term. When he found the memory in some corner of his brain, he inexplicably got goosebumps all over his body, as if he had been thrown from a June beach onto the Siberia ice field.
The Boomerang Nebula Boomerang Nebula, is 5,000 light-years from Earth. Its temperature reaches -272°C, only 1.15°C above absolute zero. It is the only known celestial object with a temperature lower than that of the cosmic microwave background radiation.
At such low temperatures, nothing is active, including consciousness.
"What do you mean?" Zhao Pengcheng asked, trying to remain calm.
"The lowest temperature achievable in this laboratory is one two-billionth of a Kelvin, only five nanokelvin away from absolute zero. At that point, your consciousness..."
Mei Yiqiu suddenly stopped speaking at this point. Zhao Pengcheng saw the screen shake as if an earthquake had occurred. Because the naked-eye 3D technology was so realistic, he almost thought the laboratory was about to collapse.
The bald man standing behind Mei Yiqiu rushed forward and helped Mei Yiqiu out. Then, bursts of gunfire rang out. The gunfire lasted for more than ten seconds, followed by a bright flash on the screen, and then the screen disappeared. The wall returned to its icy appearance, and there was no trace of a screen there.
Then, Zhao Pengcheng heard a muffled explosion. The sound didn't come from the screen or the microphone, but from outside the lab. It must have been the explosion that had occurred when the screen flashed earlier. If the video wasn't delayed, judging from the time difference between the flash and the sound, the explosion was less than a kilometer away from him.
The laboratory temperature was maintained at -1°C. Zhao Pengcheng was relieved. If Mei Yiqiu had activated the ultra-low temperature and lowered it to near absolute zero, the space here would have frozen, the atoms would have become static, and the body he was inhabiting would have essentially ceased to exist. At that time, his consciousness would have been plunged into endless darkness, just like Qingmu in zero-dimensional space, a fate worse than death.
Of course, if no one comes to rescue him within an hour, he will freeze to death here, which would also be a misfortune.
About twenty minutes later, Zhao Pengcheng felt his temperature rise. Then, the lab door opened, and the foreigner appeared in the doorway, shaking his hand just like when he was being picked up from prison, saying, "Comrade Zhao Pengcheng, you've worked hard."
Zhao Pengcheng felt the warmth of the other person's hand, but a chill ran through him. "How did you find me?"
The comrade said, "We started planning this as soon as you went to Liuying Lane. Thank you for helping us find the resistance organization's underwater base."
Zhao Pengcheng said with dissatisfaction, "You're using me?!"
The comrade exclaimed excitedly, "Everything for the organization and the great victory!"