Of course, there’s also the dead weight you all keep talking about; he helped too,” the voice added.
“Wait, is that Liu Sheng Jie talking to us?”
“Did I hear that right?”
“What????”
“Yes, I am talking to you.”
“Wait, wait, wait, this world is too magical, my smooth brain can’t keep up.”
“I have no brain so I don’t know what you’re talking about, when can we eat?”
“Can Liu Sheng Jie see the bullet comments?”
“Oh right, I can see them.”
“Clearly.”
A slight chuckle followed her words.
Snake Taoist, who had been sprawled out limply, jolted upright in alarm upon hearing this, sitting up straight and leaning forward, as if afraid to miss a single word.
The Little Tentacle on his shoulder also stretched slightly forward, its tiny eyeballs capturing the rapidly floating bullet comments.
At Rising Dragon Group, the studio for The Metamorphosis had already erupted into chaos.
“Where is her voice coming from?” the Director raged again, his whole body bristling into a black, furry ball.
The audio engineer looked at the recording engineer with a puzzled expression.
The recording engineer looked at the director, who rushed over, red as a cooked shrimp, his numerous hands rubbing together nervously as he reported to the Director: “Uh, the… the live broadcast… the signal is gone.”
“And, the people stationed locally… we can’t contact any of them!”
“Director Luo, her voice, it seems to be coming from our station…” The recording engineer said with a mournful face, on the verge of collapse after confirming the source of the sound.
“Ridiculous, how is that possible? Are you stupid? How could she find our station?” The Director scoffed.
The production team was in a chaotic mess, blaming each other, and the Black Shadow Director was even more furious, launching indiscriminate attacks.
Now, everyone’s live broadcast screen was just static, but Professor Ke’s and the studio’s live feeds hadn’t been cut, so everyone saw the chaos in the studio and knew that this wasn’t a script this time, but a real program accident.
Just as everyone was feeling bewildered by this unprecedented situation, the static screen cleared.
Liu Sheng’s face filled the entire screen.
This startled Snake Taoist so much that he recoiled sharply, pulling his leaning body back.
It was late at night, long past Snake Taoist’s bedtime.
But Snake Taoist had no desire to sleep; he racked his brain, unable to imagine what would happen next.
It was surely a sleepless night for the entire Federation.
Nothing could please the citizens of the Federal Empire, whose entertainment threshold was extremely high, more than all arrangements falling out of control.
So Liu Sheng also said, “I know you want to see, so I’m live streaming for you.”
“Oh, it seems you can’t see. Wait, I need to move back a bit.”
So Liu Sheng moved back a little, and her face was no longer filling the screen; instead, her full upper body appeared. She let out a soft breath and said to the audience, “How is it? Can everyone see clearly now!”
Behind her was a metallic space, brightly and coldly lit by white lights. Some equipment could be seen in the background, flashing with various colored lights, displaying data and images.
This… could it be?
“What’s going on? Where are you?” The Director was both shocked and angry.
“Isn’t it obvious where I am?” Liu Sheng didn’t understand the Director’s feigned ignorance, then turned to the camera and said, “Please congratulate me—for getting a new ride!”
As she spoke, she spread her arms wide, showcasing the full view to everyone.
This was precisely the spaceship’s command center.
“Oh, why aren’t any of you cheering for me?”
The bullet comments were momentarily quiet due to shock, yet she noticed even that.
“Where are our people?” The Director’s black thorns bristled as he demanded.
“You certainly care about your people.” Liu Sheng pressed a button; her camera disappeared, and the live broadcast screen showed a dark small room. It was pitch black inside, and only outlines of a few people could be seen through infrared, along with some distorted shadows of tentacles wrapped around them.
These winding postures, these graceful curves, for some reason, Snake Taoist now found them somewhat familiar.
Soon, this screen was cut, and Liu Sheng reappeared.
“Didn’t your host explode?”
“Then now, let me take over!”
“I’ve learned some of your trendy phrases. If you agree, type 1. If you don’t agree… you’re not allowed to speak!”
Mimicking Meat Paste, her lips curved into a crescent shape, revealing eight teeth, but there was no trace of a smile in her eyes.
Coupled with the black tentacles writhing behind her, spreading throughout the entire cabin and obscuring all the silvery-white metallic light, all the viewers couldn’t help but shiver, feeling a chill down their spines.
“Why do I feel that Liu Sheng Jie is even scarier than some of our extreme New Humans…”
“So domineering! I love it!”
“Please, Big Sister, whip me with your tentacles!”
“Upstairs, Star Network is not outside the law.”
“The dark web is.”
“1”
“111”
“11111”
“1111111”
Liu Sheng “looked” at the screen full of “1”s, very satisfied.
“Very good, it seems no one disagrees.”
“However, I don’t know how to host either. How about… we start with a Q&A?” Liu Sheng stroked her chin and looked up, pretending to ponder for a moment, then suddenly turned her gaze to the screen, “Professor Ke, you seem to have a lot of questions.”
This sentence was ambiguous, but Professor Ke didn’t mind.
“I want to know why you killed those people,” he asked in a deep voice.
“Good question! Truly worthy of a Federal Empire University New Human Studies Professor!” Liu Sheng said with a smile, “I really hope to have the chance to learn more from you about what a New Human is.”
Upon hearing this, Professor Ke’s eyes narrowed, a deep blood-red color seeping into his face like a spiderweb.
He was clearly displeased with Liu Sheng’s overly familiar attitude.
“So scary… Liu Sheng Jie knows everything.”
“And her way of speaking, it’s just like ours!”
“Is she really a native of this ancient planet?”
“How could she not be? We watched her grow up!”
“Thinking about it that way, it’s terrifying!”
After a long pause, Professor Ke’s blood-colored fluctuations subsided, though veins still protruded wildly on his face, making his usually gentle and refined face look incredibly distorted at the moment.
“Why is Professor Ke so angry?”
“You just hate the existence of things you can’t understand, don’t you?”
“Your desire to control knowledge, your absolute confidence in your own intelligence, makes you unable to accept the existence of the unknown.”
Every word Liu Sheng spoke was provocative, stirring Professor Ke’s emotions.
However, this time Professor Ke had himself under control; the blood color remained on his face but did not continue to spread, though the abnormality on his face could not be temporarily eliminated.
“Yes, you are right,” Professor Ke admitted frankly, “So, can you enlighten me?”
“How about, Professor Ke, you analyze it? Aren’t you very smart?” Liu Sheng, however, tossed the question back, saying playfully, “Actually, you already have the answer in your heart, don’t you?”
Through some accumulated contact, Liu Sheng had become very adept at imitating these riddle-speaking villains. At this moment, her elusive, ‘I’ll let you ask but I won’t answer’ mysteriousness was learned to perfection.
Professor Ke also guessed that Liu Sheng definitely had some motive and wouldn’t answer easily, but he was willing to see what tricks she would play.
“Alright, first,” Professor Ke said sternly, “is the missing and murdered cousin.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?”