A Stone to Probe the Way
884 Words
She still felt dizzy from the shock.
An interstellar civilization!
Even if the boss had only made contact with one, it was still an interstellar civilization!
That alone was enough to change everything.
Even a single piece of technology from such a civilization could revolutionize the entire human world as it stood today.
And in this age of cosmic threats, the value of such an opportunity was beyond calculation. It could completely transform not only the boss's fate—but humanity’s as a whole.
All three of her questions had been answered perfectly.
Now, Ji Mingshu felt like she was holding a royal flush—yet she didn’t know how to play it.
She looked at her boss, unsure whether to marvel at his brilliance or thank fate for her own luck.
Perhaps the latter more so.
Meeting him was, without question, the greatest fortune of her life.
“Boss, your decision to contact the Meteor Crisis Response Division is absolutely correct,” she said, forcing herself to calm down. Her mind spun like a turbine, yet she wholeheartedly agreed with his thinking. “We now hold irreplaceable cards—enough to leverage maximum value.”
Massive value could mean massive danger.
But when that value was irreplaceable, it also became the best kind of protection.
And the Mist Realm was the key to that safety.
“It won’t be easy to get in direct contact with the meteor division right now,” Ji Mingshu continued. “Even under the guise of donations, it might not work. If I had to guess, they’re being flooded with requests—offers of help, support, contributions.”
Shen Yu nodded.
He had expected this.
Never underestimate the intelligence of those who control resources. Even if they were foolish, there was always someone clever behind them.
Anyone with clear eyes could see that in the face of this monster-induced catastrophe, national power was the only real safeguard. The government, especially the military, was the last stronghold—even in a full collapse.
Everyone would be scrambling to cling to that.
And the Shen Corporation? Even if they gave up everything, it would barely make a ripple.
At most, some low-level official would thank them politely and move on.
“Then we’ll test the waters first,” Shen Yu said calmly. “Tell me the name. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Yes, sir.” Ji Mingshu nodded, asking no more.
She had been a vital part of the Shen Corporation’s rise, but the hierarchy had always been clear.
Shen Yu was the decision-maker.
She advised—and executed.
“Come on, let’s head to the company. The staff needs reassurance,” Shen Yu said as he turned to leave.
Hours ago, he had exchanged gifts with his other selves.
The Martial World’s Shen Yu had given him a personally cultivated manual—he’d try it tonight.
The Interstellar Shen Yu had sent something even more incredible: a futuristic personal terminal.
Now strapped to his wrist, the sleek device felt almost weightless, like a second skin.
But inside—it was a miracle of science.
A quantum chip that could out-compute any supercomputer of this age. Powerful software systems rivaled even the internal implants of the Interstellar Era. Some functions, less than legal, had been specially customized by his future self.
In this world, it was no exaggeration to call it a mythical artifact.
…
Meanwhile, in a hidden government building in Linhai City, a high-level meeting had just ended.
Anyone who saw the list of attendees would be stunned—it included top leaders from every sector of the city.
In normal times, such a meeting would dominate the news for days.
But now, there were no cameras. No reporters. Just tense faces and hurried steps.
The meeting’s host was Huang Jingrong, head of the city’s Meteor Crisis Response Unit.
He was 46—still in his prime—but looked utterly drained.
To the outside world, he was riding high. But he knew the truth.
None of the three confirmed crises had been resolved.
Not one.
The North League’s grey arthropods were still active underground, even after deploying tactical weapons. One had grown to five kilometers long and was still expanding.
The “eyeball parasites” from Linguo were even more horrifying. Every time they drove someone to suicide, two more spawned from the victim’s eyes.
Their spread, in dense urban areas, was catastrophic.
Worse yet—they had already infiltrated domestic territory.
And now, analysis showed two more meteor impacts likely originated from Planet Zero—a completely unknown celestial body.
The fear was spreading.
Staring out over the glowing skyline, Huang Jingrong murmured, “Xiao Xu, I’ve never realized how beautiful this city really is… until now.”
His young secretary followed his gaze, dazed.
How long could these lights of civilization endure?
Just imagining the city turned to ruins, its streets littered with corpses, made his mind go numb.
“That’s why we have to fight with everything we have,” Huang turned and gripped his shoulder. “Not for power. Not for status. Not even for pride.”
“This time, it’s for survival.”
“I’ve already lived half my life. But you’re still young. My children… they’re younger than you.”
- Writer
