Operating in low orbit, within the night-shrouded space on Earth's dark side, Leanna projected back from the star to her body lying in her quarters aboard the starship. It seemed that within Starfleet, there were always a few individuals who differed from ordinary fleet members—each possessing their own unique abilities that surpassed the capabilities of ordinary people.
Liana stretched her body and turned to see Lydia had returned, sitting there watching her.
“He's wandering,” Lydia transmitted her perception of Lin Yuhui's soul state to Liana through telepathy.
“Let him follow his own free will,” Liana replied simply.
Lydia seemed dissatisfied with her sister's answer, but Liana blocked further communication on the topic, unwilling to say more. Lydia could only pout, no longer discussing the matter.
Having shed the constraints of physical form, Lin Yuhui savored an unprecedented freedom. Not only could he move at will, but he could also sense the perceptions and emotions of specific individuals across vast distances. It seemed this perception transcended linear time itself. For instance, the connection to his physical body elsewhere remained unbroken. Transcending time and space, he knew they would be living in the north, so he chose not to disturb them. With that thought, he drifted slowly from the west coast toward central Nevada.
In the night, the desolate desert held only scattered lights at the outskirts of small towns. The darkness held an overwhelming loneliness. But this meant little to him. His life had been written in solitude—no, most of his life—and he had long grown accustomed to it all.
Moving through the night, or rather, moving his perception, the desert's cool air seemed to caress every cell deep within his body. The rhythmic collision of molecular vibrations carried away years of pent-up resentment and frustration, leaving only profound tranquility in his soul.
Beyond touch and sight, Lin Yuhui felt he retained his sense of smell. In the desert night, as the air temperature plummeted, he could faintly detect the damp scent of sand and stone near the ground. As he drifted silently across different regions, that moist freshness carried whispers of sweetness from plants and trees, carried by the faint breeze. It felt as if the desert night was the very hour when these living things danced joyfully through their day.
Before he could fully savor the bliss of floating in the tranquil night, dim lights in the distant mountains caught his attention.
Where the heart leads, the spirit follows. In an instant, his perspective settled above the two rows of hills. It appeared to be a military base, brightly lit and enclosed by metal fencing, with access restricted to the main gate and roads. Inside, a helicopter landing pad stood beside concrete structures, surrounded by barracks, garages, and fuel tanks—a self-sufficient facility deep in the desert.
He flew toward the brightest building, circling once to observe the guards posted at the entrance. Armed with outdated M16 rifles—mercenaries, perhaps? They wore what appeared to be desert camouflage uniforms. Lin Yuhui felt his ability to distinguish colors had weakened considerably, yet he could still see through flesh and matter to some extent. He clutched a flask in his chest. Heh, sure enough, they were here to earn their keep with guns.
He passed through the main gate. The interior hall held nothing remarkable—dilapidated and devoid of luster. Spotting an elevator shaft ahead to the left, Lin Yuhui’s curiosity instantly drew him toward it. Descending the vertical shaft, he surveyed each underground level. They contained laboratory equipment or machinery resembling chemical and pharmaceutical production facilities—nothing particularly intriguing. An unnamed pull seemed to guide him deeper into the facility. Here, both the ceiling height and floor area were greater, and numerous large vertical stainless steel culture dishes stood. He could see not only the stainless steel exteriors of the equipment but also the humans floating within the culture fluid inside.
This piqued his interest. He drifted over to observe each individual inside. At first, this area contained only males—physically robust, with identical features and builds. They appeared to be mass-produced clones. Yes, they were clones. Upon closer inspection, their internal organs matched those of humans, and they were alive.
Lin Yuhui attempted to merge his consciousness into one of the bodies. Heh, even though he no longer possessed a physical form, he tried to fill the body, testing whether he could access its perceptions. But it didn't work. He could even smell the bodily fluids within the body, yet he couldn't gain its senses.
“Stinking man,” Lin Yuhui grumbled as he withdrew from the body. If it had been a woman, perhaps his inner resistance wouldn't have been so strong—especially a man of a different race. But then he thought, Wait, that's not right. Wanting her body now isn't the same as wanting her body when I was alive. Am I supposed to crawl into a woman's body and wait to be taken by another man? He chuckled at the thought.
Beyond this area lay clusters of smaller petri dishes. Oddly, they varied in color—perhaps sorted by hue.
Approaching, he realized these weren’t mass-cloned cultures. Each face appeared only a few times, spanning ages and genders. What was this for? NPC civilians? Right—an inconspicuous person could be a spy. That was a possibility, Lin Yuhui mused silently.
Venturing further in, Lin Yuhui’s eyes lit up. Though he no longer had eyes, perhaps it was his mind that brightened—after all, he couldn’t see himself anyway. This area was filled with female clones: beauties of different races, appearances, and figures.
Beautiful spies? With this question in mind, he examined each specimen in the culture dishes one by one. Blondes of Caucasian descent, dark-haired Asians, dark-haired Western Europeans—likely from the Mediterranean region—red-haired, curly-haired Celts, and some beauties who seemed to be of Eastern European descent, with delicate yet not overly pronounced racial features.
What were they for? Well, did he even need to ask? Any scenario. After lingering among these silhouettes for a while, Lin Yuhui suddenly noticed another door at the end of the corridor. It was tightly shut, obscuring its contents.
Curiosity got the better of him. He walked straight through the wall and found an empty room. Why leave an empty room here? As he pondered this, his body suddenly began to float upward, as if he were stuck to the ceiling. He tried to move, but felt somewhat stuck. He could shift himself slightly, yet it felt as if part of his body was glued to the ceiling.
Strange. How could this be? Was he bound? Only then did he carefully survey the empty room, faintly sensing ripples in the air around the walls, as if stirred by shockwaves.
A soul trap? Lin Yuhui suddenly grasped the gravity of the situation. He began straining to move, trying to break free. Though he felt no pain no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't escape.
Was he destined to be trapped here forever? He chuckled to himself. After all, he was already dead—what was one more death? Time itself had lost all meaning for him now.
Lin Yuhui surveyed the empty room. Since he was here, he might as well make the best of it.
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