A huge thank you to Keith Lighthill and Piers for joining as members on my Patreon! Your support means the world to me and truly motivates me to keep Translate. As a token of my appreciation, I will provide 2 extra chapters . I hope these chapters add even more value to your experience!
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Ryan had spent quite some time with Möbius, and if her accomplishments in science were remarkable, her ability in daily life was utterly useless. She ate instant noodles all the time, drank only instant coffee, and her room—still filled with stockings—was memorable. Her clothing was also quite monotonous, always wearing the same outfit, completely oblivious to fashion trends.
Well, at least I'm the same in that regard.
At least, her coordination as a fused warrior was strong. She probably wouldn't cut her fingers while cooking, so I should feel safe.
Ryan spun around half a circle in his chair, facing the kitchen, and immediately noticed that Möbius was trying to act tough.
She wasn't even wearing an apron, and with this kind of outfit, she was definitely not an experienced cook.
He watched her awkwardly chop vegetables, fumbling around, clearly unsure of where the fire was, and Ryan forced himself to resist the urge to help.
Since it was a return gift, it would be pointless for him to jump in. He could just quietly observe, but he couldn't take a photo because her clumsy movements would give him enough material to mock her for ten years.
Ryan chose to observe discreetly, but as he kept watching, his gaze inevitably shifted to her hips. This wasn't intentional—it was just that Möbius twisted and turned so much that it became hard not to notice.
She took off her white lab coat, revealing her tight skirt, which was stretched out from her movements and swayed with each step she took.
This view could only be ignored by a blind person or someone have the wrong interests. Who could resist?
Her figure was full and proportionate, her outfit was a perfect office look, surpassing the expectations of all the lecherous old men. It reminded Ryan of a few classic works.
It felt like he had traveled back in time. Back then, he could only admire through screens, but now, there was a perfect office lady right here, cooking just a few meters away from him. It was impossible not to feel stirred.
A man and a woman alone—dry wood and fire. If I just admitted defeat and signed some unequal treaties, maybe even offered to be her little follower, Möbius might not oppose it, right...
Wait, no! I almost fell into her trap!
Ryan stiffened and became alert. The more he watched, the more it seemed like everything was intentional—a trap that had been set up long ago.
For instance, climbing onto the stove, reaching into the cupboard, why the kneeling posture? Was she deliberately sticking her butt up?
Or for a seasoned fusion warrior, cutting just a few vegetables—twisting her waist, puffing out her chest, trying to tear her shirt apart?
She was shy earlier, now she's switching to seduction tactics—using contrast, huh? So confident I'd fall for it?
Alright, this tactic definitely has some merit.
His rationality overpowered his desire, and he became calmer. He stroked his chin and analyzed Möbius's strategy.
It was deliberate, absolutely deliberate.
If I recognize the issue and still fall for it, then I must be foolish. So Ryan chose to ignore her, opened his laptop, and wrote a few hundred words, but for some reason, he felt restless, his gaze constantly flickering toward the kitchen.
Damn, this really is mental torture.
He slammed his laptop shut and slowly stood up, heading toward the kitchen. He thought he needed to figure out how to expose Möbius's scheme. But just as he got to the kitchen—
Thud.
A muffled sound, blood splattered, and a fish head rolled on the ground. Möbius turned to look, holding a bloody knife.
"Are you trying to teach me how to do things?"
Ryan swallowed hard. Seeing Möbius's white face stained with blood, he slowly backed away.
"No, I was just bored. I wanted to chat with you."
"That's more like it." Möbius squatted down, picked up the fish head, washed it under clear water, then tossed it into the boiling pot. "Speak your mind, just don't disturb me while I'm cooking."
The fish head wasn't even cleaned of the fishy smell before being thrown into the boiling water. What's with the curry powder in there?
Ryan was confused, so he grabbed the apron provided by the Fire Moth and tossed it toward her.
"Put this on first. It's hard to wash clothes when they get dirty."
"Anyway, Klein will wash it. Fine, I'll consider others." Möbius slowly put the apron on, tied her green hair into a ponytail, and turned around.
"How does it look?"
Just changing her hairstyle and putting on an apron, Möbius exuded a completely different vibe. She now radiated a 'virtuous' charm, like a housewife.
Of course, it would be better if she didn't hold a kitchen knife like she was about to perform surgery.
"There's a sudden warm feeling, like coming back to a cozy haven after a long day at work," Ryan responded seriously. No need to kid yourself.
Family? Warmth?
Möbius paused, then shook her head gently. "I can't understand that feeling. It even sounds a bit off-putting."
"You're not from a crack in the rocks, have you never felt it, even for a moment?" Ryan casually asked. He didn't like to pry into others' pasts.
"I have parents, if that ugly thing can be called a father," Möbius spoke indifferently, as if recounting someone else's story.
She had independent thoughts as soon as she was born, even able to speak. Möbius's mother had passed away early, and her father, a pharmacist, wasn't broken by life, until he contracted a terminal illness. The side effects of the medication changed his temperament.
Relying on medication to survive, he wasted his days away, which would exhaust and frustrate any normal young girl. But Möbius was different; she recognized the fragility of life.
"The side effects of those drugs mercilessly hijacked their nerves, even altering their cognition. It's so easy to destroy all their emotions and personality and turn them into another person."
"That's when I realized how fragile and ridiculous humans are. I will never become like him."
Möbius's expression was cold, and Ryan finally understood why she was so obsessed with evolution.
"You're not craving evolution itself, but the sense of security that evolution brings?"
"Yeah. As my horizons expanded, I realized that disease wasn't even a big deal. There are far more terrifying things in this world, like running in the dark—once you stop, you'll be swallowed."
Möbius let out her signature sneer.
Every pervert has a painful childhood. This saying wasn't wrong.
Ryan remained silent and asked, "So you don't hate him?"
"Why should I hate him? All that's left for me is pity, though it only serves to provoke his ridiculous pride," she touched her cheek, as if feeling the lingering pain of a slap. "So, Ryan, why do you seek power?"
"At first, it was to survive," Ryan leaned against the doorframe. He felt that he and Möbius were quite alike—both had independent thoughts from birth, which made them mature early.
"I came to this world, and I couldn't just resign myself without fighting."
"Hmm, very vulgar, but the core idea is the same as mine. It's all instinct for survival. And after that?"
What's vulgar? That's pure.
Ryan didn't correct her and continued, "Later, I responded to another instinct, an even stronger instinct."
"What?"
"Exploring the unknown, turning the impossible into the possible. This way, I'm not just alive; I also have the quality of life."
Ryan clenched his fist, feeling the strength of his body. "I respond to my instincts, and my instincts reward me with even greater strength. I use this strength to turn more impossibilities into reality!"
Sounds... idealistic?
Möbius paused for a moment, feeling that this instinct was somewhat similar to her own thirst for immortality and evolution, but it was also completely different. She couldn't find the right words to summarize it.
"It's not just about exploration, and it's not about salvation. Killing is just a byproduct..."
"I can endure the unknown, but I can't tolerate the unknowable. I can accept destruction, but I can't bear inevitability. I can feel fear, but I must take a step forward." Ryan interrupted Möbius's monologue, looking at her narrowed snake-like pupils, and gave his answer.
"This is my way of survival, my way of Trailblazer."
...
The mountains blocked the sunlight, and the deep valley was pitch black, with only dim purple light illuminating the silver iron door on the rock wall.
A device resembling a detector was placed next to the door, emitting a soft 'beep' in the breeze, and the electronic light flickered with scarlet numbers.
Clack, clack, clack.
With the sound of footsteps, a gentleman dressed in a double-breasted long suit arrived at the door, tipping his hat. His cerulean blue eyes glanced at the silver iron door before turning his gaze to the instrument.
"700HW?"
After observing for two seconds, he walked up, placed his palm on the surface of the door. In a moment, thick white ice began to form on the door, and with a flick of his finger—
Clink.
The several-meter-thick door, made of multiple composite materials, shattered with a loud noise, revealing a hole just wide enough for a person to pass through. The Ice Herrscher glanced at the side and saw the detector wildly jumping numbers, while the trees by the door rapidly withered.
"Indeed, a product of human civilization. Only they know how to conceal things."
He glanced at the door's inner filler, took a step inside, and his eyes lightly swept over the vast hollow inside.
The mountain had almost been hollowed out. Steel tracks extended deep into the ground, and a train lay tilted at the door. Dozens of humans were scattered around, still alive, but clutching their necks with their hands, their bodies twitching uncontrollably. Their bulging eyes were bloodshot, and they were spewing large amounts of white foam from their mouths.
More painful than death.
The Herrscher glanced at them with no expression and continued forward, bypassing the train. He slowly lifted his head.
A small figure sat on a steel beam. She had shoulder-length hair, and her loose dark blue clothes were fluttering. Her pale, delicate legs were swinging back and forth, and she was humming an unknown tune.
The melody was light, but in this underground place, where only the sounds of deathly gasps remained, it felt incredibly eerie.
"You're here?" The girl stopped singing, looking down at her own kind. "I don't understand why they're so stupid. For a chance, they blind their eyes with greed."
"So they succeeded. I'll slowly grant them death as thanks. Hehe, how about making every capillary burst while keeping the mind active, and enduring for three days?"
The Ice Herrscher didn't respond. He half-knelt on the ground, took a document from the arms of a plump man in his fifties or sixties, flipped through a few pages, and then stopped.
On the Preemptive Creation of Herrscher Vessels and the Possibility of Precise Descent Research.
The gentleman raised an eyebrow and threw the document back into the vomit-covered pile. He didn't expect that humans had already found the pattern.
When the corruption of the world accumulates to a certain critical point, and there happens to be an appropriate vessel, the Herrscher has a certain probability of descending.
"Looks like they weren't planning to ambush you. Otherwise, you would've met him and them."
Clack.
The girl jumped down from the ceiling, barefoot, and lightly spun around in the hellish drawing.
"So, I granted them thanks. Originally, it should have been ten days, but I've reduced it to three. Perhaps this is what humans call kindness~"
The Ice Herrscher stood still, gazing at his 'joyful' kind, like a gentleman admiring a lady's dance. He had no intention of probing into what 'kindness' meant, and simply said:
"Release your power. The energy hasn't dissipated yet."
"Are you going to save them? Why?" The girl stopped, leaning forward with her hands behind her back, looking innocent and naive.
"Only those who have experienced life and death can be called miracles. What they long for, you know very well, and for your power, these desires are nothing but a simple task."
"Of course, it's simple. So, why?"
The Ice Herrscher glanced at this newborn kind and knew that Herrschers didn't need long speeches.
"Because they are more useful alive than dead."