Xyrin Empire-Chapter 1364: The Pistachio Effect of the Dou Dings
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We discussed until evening about the various information revealed during the Xyrin Abyss’s appearance. Everyone agreed that the most cautious stance should be taken: remain skeptical of anything said by the Xyrin Abyss, keep the current action strategy against the Fallen Apostle unchanged, and simultaneously strengthen patrols along the Empire’s border, as well as double the surveillance outposts along the Abyss Empire’s borderline. Sandora proposed the latter; she believes the high-profile emergence of the Xyrin Abyss might signal significant actions from the Fallen Apostle’s side. No matter what the other side is planning, sending out sentries is always a universally effective measure.
Taville was tasked with conducting further analysis of the Rift. The cause mentioned by the Xyrin Abyss regarding the Rift might hold some reference value, and Taville also has plenty of spare research capability. We asked Taville to allocate a thread specifically for following up on this matter to see if a control method for the Rift can be found based on its cause. We don’t expect to close this passage, but perhaps we can stop it from continuing to drift around. A fixed and scannable tangible threat is naturally less harmful than the current elusive Rift that only the Xyrin can locate. Our next step is to find a way to establish a network defense around the Rift: firewalls, information monitoring points, sentry programs, more robust underlying protocols—no matter what means, we must deploy them. The Angel Envoy’s strength isn’t only on the battlefields of the real world; as a race innately equipped with a spiritual network, their capability in network technology is not to be underestimated. By implementing various protective measures, although we cannot ensure the Rift’s complete neutralization, at least when the Fallen Apostle invades the Empire’s network through the Rift, these defenses will make it impossible for the enemy to make any progress—we also have to consider the enemy’s technological advantages. The New Empire here indeed cannot upload an ordinary Angel Envoy into the network, but this doesn’t mean the Fallen Apostle lacks this technology. The Xyrin Abyss has studied the Rift for at least ten thousand years. If she can upload the Fallen Apostle to the network, I wouldn’t be surprised at all.
In fact, if I must say, the New Empire’s current spiritual network already has its most powerful defense mechanism, which is the power of the Void Creatures: the entire Empire network is permeated with information disturbance from the Void. These disturbances are the source of power allowing New Empire members to gradually transform into Gods, but for the Fallen Apostle, it is akin to being highly poisonous. Unless the Xyrin Abyss achieves some incredible breakthrough, any invasion attempt within the spiritual network would inevitably result in astounding extra battle losses: Her army would constantly turn into members of the New Empire during the attack, turning back to assault her own forces.
This situation is quite interesting, because it’s also true in reverse: If the New Empire’s army forcefully attacks the Fallen Apostle (whether in reality or online), there will also be continuous transformation of soldiers into enemies tainted by the Abyss, attacking the Imperial Army in return. It’s a debuff that applies to whoever is on foreign soil: The casualty rate doubles just from being away.
Although Void Power is on a level above Abyss Power, given the current strength comparison between the New Empire and the Abyss Empire, it’s truly unpredictable who would convert whom if their armies were to battle on each other’s turf. Anyway, I’m sure if I were to upload myself alone onto the Fallen Apostle’s network facing billions of spirits, I’d be banished into the Void, reading for a resurrection, in less than two hours.
Given the Xyrin Abyss’s boldness to sacrifice the entire Harlan army for the sake of a **, I suspect she’d gladly trade half her Abyss Empire for my life: She’s someone willing to pay any price for a battle outcome. It’s precisely because of the opponent’s approach that we’ve decided to establish more defenses on the network: Solely relying on the information disturbance power of the Void Creatures to protect the network might not withstand the relentless spirit of the Xyrin Abyss. If she overwhelms us with sheer numbers, we’d be screwed...
As for seventy thousand years ago, whether it was indeed the dispersal of my Void Power that allowed the Fallen Apostle to survive as a legion until today, or even indirectly given rise to the "Fallen Apostle" species, this topic is quite awkward. Anyway, given Bingdisi’s shameless and carefree character, she didn’t bother fretting over it. Ultimately, Sandora handed this matter over to the advisory team and database management center to see if they could find any clues in those ancient records (especially from the Fifteen Day Zone) regarding the concept schisms and Void Creature salvation narratives of old.
Although this matter is quite depressing, thinking about it differently, if this is indeed the case, it might as well be a good thing. Taville expressed it as follows: "By adding Void Power as a buffer element to the conversion process of the Fallen Apostle, we might be able to establish a real ’transformation model’. Through it, we could confirm the genesis mechanism of the Fallen Apostle, and knowing how the enemy came to be allows us to better study how to make them cease. That’s theoretically how it works."
We have always failed to understand the transformation details of the Fallen Apostle, unsure of how they turned from sane beings under the influence of Abyss Power to what they are today. Taville has conducted multiple theoretical model level simulations on this, and each time the transformation rate fell below the actual number and intensity of the Fallen Apostle, making me believe that this transformation couldn’t be explained with existing technology or by a mathematical model. But Taville, vouching on her scientist’s integrity, insists that nothing in this world is beyond mathematical models; we simply haven’t found a certain key parameter: that parameter might well be the trace amounts of Void disturbance.
"Once this model is established, we can send the Fallen Apostle back home to get married as a legion!"
After returning from Shadow City, Sandora said this with a full smile of expectation, she’d set a flag against the enemy without hesitation.
I sat in the living room dazed; too many bizarre things happened today. Even with my thoroughly trained nerves, I found today a bit dreamlike, so I’m busy reconstructing my worldview. Bingdisi is still stuck in my soul, that female hooligan now too exhausted to even curse, could only hum and whine, lamenting her bad luck, complaining about how Sandora and others meddled with her body, whining about the weather, the Sun’s brightness, gravitational pull, even complaining about my tacky clothes today...
"You should mind your appearance, dress with the demeanor of a national leader. I suggest you wear a black dress..."
I have been symbiotic with this female hooligan for most of the day, already exhausted: "...shut up, I beg you..."
"I’m bored! You’re my shell right now! I don’t want to wear a fifteen-dollar sale shirt and Seven Wolves pants! I want a dress..."
I pulled out my trump card: "Say one more word and I’ll go shave."
Bingdisi imagined what it would be like to shave from her perspective, instantly fell silent; I imagined her shivering.
"How long do we have to be stuck like this?" Bingdisi spoke up cautiously after being silent for no more than five minutes.
"Depends on when I find time to head to the Divine Realm in the next couple of days. How many people do you think can solve the god technique out-of-control issue in the Empire?" 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞
Bingdisi considered my schedule: need to follow up on ancestor resurrection matters, host thousands of Three-inch Ding little guests, a pile of new weapon development plans, research with Harlan on establishing the Abyss World, cooperating on studying the Fallen Apostle transformation mechanism... She despairingly sang the off-tune ending theme of the ’83 version Dream of the Red Chamber in my mind—I was curious where she heard this tune.
Voices from one’s consciousness can’t be blocked, just like one cannot cease one’s own thoughts. I endured Bingdisi’s off-key, mixed-up lyrics bombardment, understanding this female gangster’s current frustration, but I had to find something to divert my attention...
While contemplating this, I heard a faint, small exclamation from the second floor, followed by intermittent piano sounds—piano? Who’s playing the piano?
Indeed, there is a piano at home, but like many other odd things in the house, it’s an ornament. Qianqian bought it last year on a whim to learn piano, but it turns out she doesn’t have a bit of musical cell: if it weren’t for the house’s surrounding barriers, I suspect her piano playing would have attracted the national security bureau—so the piano eventually became a decoration. Currently, only two people in the house can play the piano, one is Lin Xue, a well-bred lady from a good family, and the other is Xiao Xue, forced by Lin Xue to learn piano for two years. But I could absolutely recognize their playing: Lin Xue makes "Hotel California" sound like "California Inn," and I’ve seen Xiao Xue play, it’s Two-Finger Zen, the only piece she can play using two fingers is "Little Star"...
The commotion upstairs is clearly not from those two: though intermittent, the melody surprisingly sounds normal.
And more importantly, it’s not "Little Star," I’ve had enough of hearing Xiao Xue play "Little Star" with Two-Finger Zen recently.
I used the intermittent piano sounds from upstairs to block out Bingdisi’s chatter in my mind, curious to observe the situation. I dashed upstairs straight to the room with the piano, opened the door, and found no one on the chair in front of the piano...
But there was a large group of Three-inch Ding Goddesses atop the piano.
Dozens of wild Dingdang stood neatly on the narrow area in front of the piano keys, each one looking cheerfully spirited. They were so tiny that each could only press two piano keys at a time: by jumping on them. A pigtailed Dingdang stood on the piano keyboard cover as the conductor, running around holding a sheet music several times her size, while the row of Dingdang below concentrated intensely. When the time came for their assigned key to sound, each jumped up with gusto and swiftly jumped down again, as if they were running a twenty-thousand-meter marathon with piano playing.
They actually managed to play a complete tune this way!
This kind of performance certainly required high coordination and focus: considering these little ones’ brain capacity, not engaging was surely not an option, so they didn’t notice me when I entered the room, the little ones continued enthusiastically to play...um, jump on the piano keys. I had no idea where they found the sheet music, nor had I heard this melody before, but it sounded quite pleasant: of course, it might just be the whimsical scene before me making it enjoyable. These busy little fellows hopped around on the piano keys, some were already flustered, others were leisurely enough to only step on a key occasionally. As the sheet music neared its end, a sequence of rapid repeating notes caused a certain unlucky Dou Ding standing at the keyboard’s edge to jump up and down so quickly a shadow almost appeared, flailing its two toothpick-like legs frantically—but eventually missed a beat.
When the performance ended, two-thirds of the Dou Ding lay panting on the keys they were responsible for, tongues sticking out. The other third, having done barely any activity throughout, began to chatter noisily with excitement...
"Can’t do it anymore, can’t do it anymore," the Dou Ding responsible for the finale crawled around on the keyboard, sparking a series of notes, "Ke Lulu won’t play anymore, it’s so exhausting..."
"This thing is called a piano, as Dingdang said," the little one who previously carried the sheet music jumped down from the keyboard cover, "It should be something invented by Earthlings for team gymnastics, as Pakiki mentioned."
I felt this little one’s rationale was quite questionable. Who else but your three-inch tall group could use a piano for team gymnastics?
"Ah! It’s the Emperor!" Finally, a little one noticed someone had entered the room and flew over flutteringly. With her greeting, the scene instantly became lively, the Three-inch Ding gathered around, circling my head. Luckily, Dingdang did this all the time, or I’d be a little dizzy by now.
The psychological stress-relief effect of the Three-inch Ding Goddesses was significant; no matter how worrisome a matter might be, it can be temporarily forgotten with these little ones around: thus, I momentarily stopped thinking about the Abyss Xyrin’s issue and Bingdisi stuck inside me. I discovered there were only these few little ones here, and learned the others had completely dispersed; these Dou Ding, with their immense mobility, should have already spread throughout Shadow City and Avalon—the Heavenly Realm City wasn’t open yet, otherwise, they’d surely have gone to organize a dozen travel tours.
These Three-inch Ding before me were wild Dingdang’s "music and movement enthusiasts", who, for various reasons, the Life Goddesses always considered music and movement as one single entity.
I looked around the room and found traces of the Three-inch Ding everywhere: a guitar had fallen over beside the wall, a violin was tossed onto the bed, and two flutes lay on the windowsill: these things didn’t mean our house was full of musical atmosphere, only suggesting there was a time Qianqian thought she had musical talents, all part of that girl’s whimsical endeavors.
Having chatted with Wild Dingdang Number One, I learned they had tried various instruments in the room and discovered only the piano was manageable: the Dou Ding who tried playing guitar got bounced off by the strings (just like a slingshot launch), the one who tried playing violin couldn’t hold the violin bow, and the one who tried blowing the flute found their mouth smaller than the airhole, having puffed in vain for ages without making a sound—likely their lung capacity measured in milliliters. Finally, they practiced team gymnastics on the piano.
"It was like this—" A Little Thing I didn’t recognize enthusiastically demonstrated how she played guitar, hugging onto a guitar string, flapping her small wings mightily to pull back, yet barely managed to release, quickly succumbing to gravity. Following a "buzz" of vibrating sound, the Little One was flicked against the wall with a slap.
"Uh...I get it, no need for further demonstration...."
"How strange," a Little One named Pakiki had been poking around inside the piano investigating why it made noise, suddenly flying out seemingly struck by an idea and rushing straight to me, "I just felt it, your soul isn’t quite the same as when we first met! It has a familiar scent, as if from the Divine Realm..."
"Because I’m stuck in here!"
Bingdisi’s voice resounded across the spiritual channel, sending the central group of Little Ones flying away in fright: female hooligan-like naturally carries a particular aura, many of the Three-inch Ding couldn’t quite handle it.
"Well, what can I say—you’ve cheered me up, thanks for the amusing performance, my mood has improved a lot," Bingdisi mumbled after a pause, "I almost slipped into depression earlier..."
Bingdisi hadn’t finished talking when Qianqian’s voice drifted up from downstairs: "Ah Jun! Ah Jun! Sister is calling you for dinner!"
"Oh, oh, time to eat," my spirits lifted, I waved warmly at those little ones scattered not far away, "Dingdang probably took others to a different place for dinner, you join us. Oh, Bingdisi, you can’t quite eat right now, is that okay?"
"...Darn it, I’m back to feeling depressed."
In terms of numbers, this was definitely the largest meal at our house: adding dozens of enthusiastic Dou Ding this time. I was relieved that Dingdang had taken most away, otherwise, you might imagine how lively a family banquet with a thousand participants would be. Though these little ones didn’t take much space, crammed together they didn’t even cover a seat, they shared Dingdang’s dining habit: running all over the table as they ate. To them, the dining table seemed like a jungle adventure, clambering peaks and discovering another dish could excite them into chattering noisily and calling out to invite others to feast. I even saw one Little One holding a pen drawing a map, her duty was to help others locate the vegetables, though when Qianqian dragged two dishes in front of me, her map was rendered useless...
I had to be constantly cautious, lest in reaching with chopsticks to pick up a dish I accidentally topple a Goddess perched on a plate gnawing on a bean sprout or a stalk of celery. Such occurrences aren’t impossible, when only Dingdang was around, we would occasionally topple the Little Thing with chopsticks, and now the odds increased by dozens of times—just moments ago, Qianqian carelessly grabbed Ke Lulu and dipped it in the sauce dish: she mistook it for a green vegetable, and similar incidents definitely happened with Dingdang before.
As I helped the Little One named Ke Lulu wipe her face, I’m thankful we’re not having hotpot today, though similar incidents also happened with Dingdang...(to be continued. If you enjoyed this work, you are welcome to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendation tickets, monthly tickets, your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please visit m.qidian.com for reading.)
