I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World-Chapter 1025 - 629 The Meaning of Life_2
Chapter 1025: Chapter 629: The Meaning of Life_2
Chapter 1025 -629: The Meaning of Life_2
Before opening the door, the expression on Bill Klayston’s face was twisted and angry as he raised his right hand, pointing the wrist-mounted energy gun at Tang Yingwill’s door.
His eyes were filled with the burning rage that threatened to consume the stars.
His clenched teeth and tense muscles were like a nuclear bomb ready to erupt at any moment.
Before becoming a soldier, Bill Klayston was a member of the Chromosome No.11 research group under the Prometheus Project.
His job was incredibly dull and uncreative, involving constant artificial verification of the arrangements in Chromosome No.11 to ensure their viability.
His tasks included receiving new data sets from the previous step, entering them into the intelligent core, waiting for the calculations to break down, finding the point where the calculations broke down, filtering the possible causes of the breakdown by using only human subjective thinking, organizing the causes into tables, and reporting them back to the Prometheus Project Command Center.
In the entire process of artificial gene sequencing, this was a relatively end-stage operation, with no clear criteria for success or failure. The work was entirely dependent on the carrier formed by the different ways of arranging and combining the data obtained from the previous steps.
From the year 2877, when he came of age and passed the entrance examination, Bill had been dealing with Chromosome No.11 for a full thirty years.
Day after day, as soon as he opened his eyes in the morning, his mind and retina would be filled with data packets from the previous step.
As a third-generation human, Bill was naturally active and strong in stature.
Engaging in such dull and boring work for years, he could predict the monotonous trajectory of his life and gradually felt impatience and despair, harboring inexplicable hatred for the seemingly non-productive Tang Yingwill.
The moment Free Will Alliance reached out to him, he joined without hesitation and began military training after 2907.
In just two short years, Bill Klayston became an A-Class warrior.
His hatred and fury towards Tang Yingwill ignited at the moment he was evaluated as A-Class.
In his heart, it was Tang Yingwill’s idleness that had destroyed his life and plunged him into the eternal torture of his damned job. He believed that he was supposed to be a great warrior but was stuck in a lab cubicle.
Now that he had the opportunity to attack this residential ship, he led his team straight to this place without hesitation.
Before breaking down the door, he had no definite plan of what to do next, perhaps only wanting to smash the door open and see if the woman inside really had three heads and six arms, and if not, how she could ruin so many lives.
Now, as he saw the back of Tang Yingwill, the ray gun in his hand aimed at the back of her head, and he fell into confusion.
Kill?
Or not?
If he killed her, would it turn the Prometheus Project into smoke and mirrors and bring spiritual salvation to all those who had suffered like him in the past?
But…
Bill’s emotions told him to pull the trigger.
With a single shot, all the souls who had died and suffered in the Prometheus Project would find solace.
But his reason was telling him that the Prometheus Project was of great significance and was related to humanity’s distant, irrelevant, and magnificent future.
Pulling the trigger would make him an even more infamous sinner than Judas, and it would also negate his own past 30 years of life and the sacrifices and struggle of many others for the cause.
“Huff! Huff! Huff! Captain, there are eight Doomsday Guardian Type-2s heading our way! They’ll be here in thirty seconds! What do we do? Do…do we really want to kill her?”
Two seconds into Bill’s painful contemplation, one of his team members reminded him urgently.
The Doomsday Guardians were not part of the fleet’s regular forces. On their previous journeys, these human-sized, single-soldier intelligent combat machines only existed in the databanks of the intelligent minds.
However, with the outbreak of armed conflict, the Doomsday Suppression Program began rapidly manufacturing these new combat units on various ships, their purpose: to eliminate rebels within the spacecraft. The Doomsday Guardians were formidable, explosive, and fierce.
Upon hearing this, Bill Klayston shuddered, his gaze quickly focused, and his finger muscles slowly tensed.
Bang!
This shot didn’t hit Tang Yingwill.
A short figure blocked the path between the ray gun and Tang Yingwill, leaving a large hole in the chest.
Compared to the regular fleet soldiers, the Free Will Alliance soldiers’ combat suits did not include the medical support systems that required super artificial intelligence servers. They couldn’t heal such a fatal injury to the torso. They could only extend their lifespans for a short time by injecting hormones and physically sealing the wound.
“What are you doing!”
Bill stared wide-eyed at the figure.
The person who was hit slowly removed the helmet, blood oozing from the corner of the mouth.
It was a young face, contorted with intense pain.
This person was another member of Bill’s team, a third-generation teenager.
“Captain, she’s the Prometheus! She carries the genes of the Sage’s wife! Our goal is to continue mankind in our own way, not to destroy our civilization! Captain, don’t… she hasn’t done anything wrong, she doesn’t even have her own will.”
Stimulated by the hormones, the Free Will warrior with the chest wound spoke these words and then fell over with a thud.
The energy reaction from the ray gun finally caused Tang Yingwill to turn around.Bill’s gaze slowly moved up from the body of his teammate, meeting Kamilia Camp’s eyes.
In that instant, his breathing stopped, and it felt as if his heart was being squeezed in someone’s hand.
His mind went blank, with only a few lingering questions surfacing.
What kind of eyes were these?
Why were they so hollow, yet as deep as the Milky Way, and seemingly filled with a boiling sea of blood?
What thoughts stirred in this woman’s mind each day?
Did she know that she was reproductively isolated from humans?
Did she know that she and humans were not actually the same species?
How did she view the humans who created her?
Did she know the purpose of her existence?
As Bill was lost in thought, his teammates in the back reminded him that the Doomsday Guardians were about to arrive.
“Knock her out, grab her, and take her to be frozen!”
Bill finally made a decision and slowly lifted his leg to walk forward.
But in the next moment, Kamilia Camp’s hollow gaze suddenly focused, no longer confused, but filled with an overwhelming murderous intent.
Kamilia Camp’s slender left hand lightly tapped the window frame, and her figure vanished.
Bill lunged at empty air.
In the next instant, Kamilia Camp appeared beside the fallen soldier’s body, her right hand pulling a Neutron Membrane Tactical Dagger from the soldier’s waist.
As she drew the knife, it seemed to lightly flick the floor, sending up a torrent of sparks.
Her body began to spin and change direction at high speed, like a blooming blood-red rose.
The blade slashed diagonally across one of the teammates.
Blood spurted from the neck of this Free Will Alliance Soldier.
Kamilia Camp’s knife accurately cut into the gap of the snake scale structure in the soldier’s armor collar.
Fluid began to spread in the weightless cabin, both blood and the crystal-clear tears from Kamilia Camp.
“Shoot! Kill her!”
Bill Klayston watched as another teammate fell, consumed by fear and anger, and tried to aim at Kamilia Camp while roaring loudly.
But Kamilia Camp’s movements were too fast- without the assistance of artificial intelligence, his own reaction speed made aiming impossible.
His teammates fell one after another.
Bill no longer hesitated, took a step back, and opened the cover on the back of his right hand, revealing a red button.
Upon pressing it, his portable armor would instantly release all its energy, causing a severe explosion.
At this time, the Prometheus Project team responsible for Kamilia Camp’s daily life and health on the residential ship had already fallen into utter chaos and panic.
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Distress signals erupted like volcanic eruptions.
More and more Doomsday Guardians rushed here.
At the same time, in the Thought Capture Team of the project group, an unprecedented female voice sounded.
It was Kamilia Camp’s mental activity.
For decades, the Thought Capture Team had been collecting only hollow white noise, marking the first time they had found a human consciousness in Kamilia Camp’s brain.
She was talking to herself.
“I don’t know why I live or why I fight.
Maybe, as you said, I am the stumbling block in the lives of countless people.
Yet, I don’t need to repent because I didn’t do anything wrong.
I’ve never wanted to survive; I just can’t let him die.
I also don’t want to kill you.
I want to be friends with you.
I am really, deeply in pain.”
