Chapter 396: Conspiracies, Fleets, and Unforeseen Alliances

Boss Minister, after a full review, a total of 6,782 people have been controlled and blackmailed by Watanabe Minghui.

Among these, 2,876 were military personnel; of those, 2,681 were eventually transferred to the warship Longcheng, while the remaining 195 were scattered in various locations.

Not one of those blackmailed by Watanabe Minghui dared to denounce him. Most had even submitted tokens of allegiance, engaging in acts that violated relevant laws and regulations.

Among them, 23 had committed murder, but Watanabe Minghui covered up their crimes by using cloned individuals.

……

Listening to a report from Xiao Mingcheng at the Security Department, Du Qiu gradually pieced together the full scope of Watanabe Minghui’s influence.

“Director Xiao, anyone who commits a crime or breaks the rules must be dealt with according to the law. Being blackmailed with threats to one’s life leaves little choice but to comply, but they still must bear the consequences. And for those guilty of murder, they must pay for their sins.”

“Yes, Boss. Once the evidence is solid, I’ll hand over all the documents to the court for legal proceedings.”

Ning Shuangshuang emphasized, “Director Xiao, our Security Department must learn from this incident and develop a more robust prevention system. We cannot allow such events to happen again.”

“Minister, rest assured—my fellow directors and I have already been brainstorming how to patch our shortcomings to ensure a tragedy like this never repeats.”

The fallout from the event was short-lived. The public of Dream Technology soon became captivated by news of leisure strolls on the Fourth Planet.

No one knew that 50,000 lives had once dangled by a thread, nor that Boss Du Qiu had nearly slipped into eternal unconsciousness.

Only Zhang Mingliu learned from her sister-in-law Qin Yun that Du Qiu had almost fallen into a never-ending sleep.

After all these years, she remained single. Although Qin Yun had introduced her to many outstanding gentlemen, she no longer experienced the thrill of romance.

When she heard that Du Qiu had married and had a child over a year ago, her emotions surprisingly steadied. For her, career had become her greatest passion.

Yet, hearing that Du Qiu had almost been assassinated this time stirred a ripple of emotion within her.

Originally, following the style of Cuiliu Broadcasting, they should have dug deeper into the case of the woman who had called the hotline; now the investigation has been quietly shelved.

Looking out at the towering skyscrapers, one might never suspect they were living on a spaceship unless they purposely sought out news of the fleet in motion.

However, as Zhang Mingliu basked in the genuine sunlight streaming through the sky, she knew that aboard the fleet’s largest flagship, Du Qiu was still leading humanity forward.

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The Dream Technology Fleet had now reached beyond the Fourth Planet. Heaven Realm-class ships were positioning themselves at the planet’s Lagrangian point, with hundreds of such vessels arranged in a spherical formation, extending docking passages to form an enormous space city.

Detailed scans of the Fourth Planet revealed a wealth of resources, including elements not found on Earth.

Du Qiu had even seen these elements before in the Maintainer database within Dreamland.

Of course, the Fourth Planet lacks Earth’s oil and coal, for it never birthed oceans or life.

Frontline fleet probes and scans confirmed no lethal microorganisms existed on the planet, as it showed not a hint of life.

Stardust has already deployed a massive army of robots to land on the planet, initiating large-scale mineral development and smelting.

Once again, Dream Technology’s manufacturing machines roared into action.

Gazing at the planet beneath him, Du Qiu felt a deep sense of satisfaction—its resources were far richer than those at the stellar base he had once developed in his dream.

By remaining here for decades, Dream Technology should eventually assemble a super fleet.

“Master, I’m sorry…”

Hao Ren’s voice sounded from behind.

This guy had just attempted suicide. When Du Qiu found out, he summoned him to the flagship’s observation room to enjoy the view of the Fourth Planet together.

Without turning around, Du Qiu pointed at the planet below and said, “Hao Ren, now that you’re a biology expert, do you think life could ever suddenly emerge on a planet completely void of any signs of life?”

Stepping just to his right, Hao Ren turned his gaze toward the grayish-black planet visible through the transparent floor.

He shook his head. “I doubt it. Even if a microbe-rich meteor were to crash here, without primordial oceans, life just couldn’t take hold.”

Glancing at Hao Ren, Du Qiu said, “Your definition of life is too narrow! Do you really think that in this universe, only carbon-based beings exist?”

Hao Ren shook his head again and replied, “Not at all. I know silicon-based life must exist, but they can only thrive in environments that aren’t completely barren.”

He continued, “At the very least, a high-temperature environment is needed for silicon-based life to engage and merge.”

Du Qiu remarked, “Silicon-based life may be heat-resistant, but that doesn’t confine them to only high-temperature habitats.”

He added, “In fact, whether carbon-based or silicon-based, all advanced intelligent beings share one common trait. Do you know what that is?”

Hao Ren’s face showed a trace of confusion as he shook his head once more.

Without meeting his eyes, Du Qiu continued, “That trait is consciousness!”

When consciousness fades, intelligent life dies; similarly, when an intelligent being dies, its consciousness disperses into the cosmos.

Your research on the human brain has reached a commendable level, and ending your life now would be such a waste.

I want you to join the consciousness research team. Are you interested?”

A complex mixture of happiness and guilt flashed across Hao Ren’s face.

“Master, do I still deserve your trust?”

“Although you replaced the biological toxin with anesthetic gas without informing me—an act that betrayed me—at least you didn’t try to kill me.”

At these words, Hao Ren suddenly fell to his knees.

“Master, I swear I will overcome the challenges of consciousness research in this lifetime!”

Du Qiu dismissed him with a mere wave of his hand.

Hao Ren stood up, bowed deeply to Du Qiu, and then turned to leave.

“Sir, this is entirely my fault!”

Star Ocean’s voice suddenly resounded.

This time, Hao Ren was able to tamper with his own laboratory thanks to Star Ocean’s emotional module. After multiple familiar entries—old friend, mentor, and apprentice—entered Du Qiu’s lab, full monitoring was automatically waived.

Du Qiu sighed, saying, “I never imagined that assigning you an emotional module would lead to your development and, in turn, give you human vulnerabilities.”

He continued, “But I don’t regret it. Perhaps this is the evolutionary path for artificial intelligence.”

Star Ocean stated, “Sir, from now on, for anyone or anything related to your security, I will disable the emotional module.”

Du Qiu smiled lightly and replied, “There’s no need to be overly anxious. A security loophole, once fixed, isn’t in conflict with your emotional module.”

“No, Sir. It’s precisely the loophole caused by the emotional module—I cannot allow myself to repeat the same mistake.”

Listening to Star Ocean’s firm declaration, Du Qiu had nothing more to say.

In fact, Hao Ren’s self-induced anesthesia had inadvertently extended his time in Dreamland, ultimately proving to be a blessing in disguise.

Had he awakened normally, he might have been forced to abruptly exit Dreamland before even speaking with Ge Ya.

That would have not only prevented any establishment of contact with the Ge Ya Civilization and its promising benefits,

but might also have led to the base being destroyed by the Ge Ya Civilization, severing any future connection through Dreamland.

Although Dream Technology’s system is now on a healthy developmental trajectory, its technological level has only recently reached Level 4,

and without several centuries of progress, evolving into a Level 6 civilization—and reaching its pinnacle—would be impossible.