Chapter Thirty: The Return of Perception and the Fractures of Trust

At the same moment, hundreds of kilometers away from the Jinjiang Base.

Deep within a desolate mountain hollow, the surface was covered in sparse, cold-resistant shrubs. There were no markers, only weathered rocks and dry dust. Yet, dozens of meters underground, an extremely covert monitoring station lay hidden. The cold metal walls were covered in blinking signal lights and complex receiving arrays.

An operator in an unmarked black uniform was scanning the massive spectrum analysis screen in front of him with boredom. Most of the screen was filled with green and blue ripples representing natural background noise.

Suddenly, an extremely faint, obscure-frequency, and rapidly decaying pulse signal at the edge of the screen was captured and amplified by a high-sensitivity secondary filter, transforming into an abrupt and sharp purple spike!

The operator sat up straight, his sleepiness vanishing instantly. He typed rapidly on his keyboard to pull up the signal parameters:

Frequency... non-standard military/civilian band;
Energy signature... high intensity, short pulse, with intense residual spatial field disturbance;
Source location... fuzzy, but broadly pointing toward the Jinjiang Special Forces Base!

"Ghost pulse?" the operator frowned, whispering to himself.

Such signal characteristics were extremely rare. It did not resemble conventional communication, weapon testing, or any known equipment leakage. He quickly initiated a signal tracing program and, at the same time, encrypted the abnormal signal and the preliminary analysis report, sending it through a deep-underground dedicated fiber-optic cable to an unknown remote node.

At the end of the report, he added a note in bold:

【Signal source abnormal orientation: Jinjiang Special Forces Base. Characteristic: Unknown high-energy spatial field disturbance. Recommendation: Upgrade monitoring level, investigate thoroughly.】

......

At the Jinjiang Base training ground, the air was slightly distorted by the scorching midday sun.

In the obstacle course area, Ouyang Nan moved like an agile leopard. Her body pressed close to the hot sand as she executed a standard low-crawl through a narrow gap under the barbed wire. Sweat soaked her temples and dripped down her jawline, creating imperceptible little pits in the sand.

Just as she pushed herself up, preparing to sprint toward the next wall, her peripheral vision caught a familiar yet strange figure—Xu Yan.

He was standing with Duan Peng, seemingly discussing something. Duan Peng held a training grenade and was practicing his throwing motion. Just as Duan Peng swung his arm and the simulated projectile left his hand, the heavy training round somehow slipped from his sweat-slicked palm!

The heavy metal cylinder spun, whistling with a dull sound as it flew straight toward Duan Peng’s unguarded foot!

"Look out!" Ouyang Nan’s exclamation caught in her throat.

Almost at the exact moment the projectile slipped, Xu Yan moved.

It was not a reaction speed typical of a normal human! Without looking back to warn him or any pre-emptive movement, his body seemed to be pulled by invisible threads. His left foot slid half a step outward with natural grace, while his right arm swept downward with a speed so fast it left a blur—

"Clack!"

A soft sound.

The heavy training round landed steadily in his open palm, mere millimeters from Duan Peng’s foot. The entire process was as fluid as a meticulously choreographed dance: precise, efficient, and unbelievable.

Duan Peng looked down, bewildered, at the projectile in Xu Yan’s hand. Only after a moment did he let out a swear word born of a narrow escape: "Damn! Thanks, brother! I almost became a cripple!" He patted his chest, his heart still pounding.

Xu Yan simply tossed the projectile back to Duan Peng, his face expressionless, as if he had just brushed off a speck of dust. "Focus on your attention," he said, his voice flat and calm.

But this scene struck Ouyang Nan like a cold awl.

That reaction speed, which surpassed human limits... that composure that bordered on "precognition" before a crisis arrived... this was absolutely not something the Xu Yan she knew could possess! Ever since he returned from that bizarre "deep-sea accident," this inhuman quality had surfaced like a ghost from time to time.

During the Shelis Island mission, his terrifyingly precise tactical predictions, and now this incredible "coincidence"... countless doubts grew like cold vines in the depths of her heart, tightening their grip.

She stood in place, the scorching sun beating down on her, yet she felt no warmth—only a chill spreading up her spine. She watched Xu Yan’s back as he walked toward the training ground exit. His figure seemed blurred in the distorting heat waves, yet it carried an inexplicable sense of detachment.

Deep within the secret warehouse, the "Cocoon Chamber" prototype lay dormant like a silent beast under the lights. The air still carried the scent of ozone and the faint smell of scorched metal from the last dangerous test.

Xu Yan stood alone before the main console, his brow furrowed. On the screen, the complex energy flow spectrum looked like tangled vipers, and the yellow alarm zone for core stability hung like a sword of Damocles.

"The root of the energy turbulence lies in the phase conflict of the secondary constraint field..." he muttered to himself, his fingertips dancing rapidly across the cold keyboard, attempting to build a new field model.

His brain worked at high speed; countless formulas, parameters, and structural diagrams surged like a torrential flood. Just as he was fully focused, trying to forcibly tame those violent data streams, a strange, warm current emerged from the depths of his consciousness without warning.

*Hum—*

The world changed in his eyes in an instant!

It was no longer cold screens and metal.

The tangled energy flow spectrum before him suddenly "came alive"! Countless tiny, glowing energy threads of different colors manifested before his eyes. They were no longer abstract curves, but streams possessing life, surging, colliding, and vibrating within virtual conduits! He could clearly "see" the few energy beams causing the turbulence—like irritable red vipers thrashing madly at key nodes. It was precisely this conflict that triggered the system's instability!

What shocked him even more was that he felt as if he could "touch" the pulse of these energy flows, and could even faintly perceive the directions they might surge in the next moment! An unprecedented sense of control welled up within him.

*'Phase shift, 3.7 degrees to the left... Node C7 damping insufficient, requires instantaneous pressure increase...'*

A clear, cold stream of information, carrying the unique rhythmic cadence of the Ram Star, flowed directly into his mind. These were not his own thoughts! It was Covet! His perceptual ability... was it recovering?! And it was strongly activated precisely when he was dealing with these high-dimensional energy issues?!

Xu Yan was deeply shaken, but his hands moved faster than his thoughts! Almost subconsciously, following the guidance of that information stream, his fingers traced a series of dizzyingly complex commands on the main console.

On the screen, those red "vipers" representing the conflicting energy beams were as if gripped by their throats by an invisible force, their violent thrashing instantly subsiding! The tangled energy flow spectrum smoothed out at a visible speed, and the yellow alarm zone for core stability even retreated slightly!

Success! A near-perfect fine-tuning!

The immense joy that had just risen was immediately replaced by a deeper chill. Xu Yan pulled his hand back violently, his fingertips still retaining a strange tactile sensation from controlling those invisible energy flows.

He looked around subconsciously, as if afraid that eyes might be watching his "inhuman" operation.

Covet’s perceptual ability was reviving... and in this direct way of interfering with reality!

This power was a double-edged sword—a key to breaking through technical bottlenecks, but also a bomb that could detonate at any moment! Once discovered... he dared not think further.

*'Efficiency increased by 37.2%. The primitive energy manipulation method of the Blue Star is stiflingly crude.'* Covet’s consciousness transmitted this, carrying a hint of imperceptible arrogance.

"Shut up!" Xu Yan roared in his mind, forcibly suppressing the agitation and fear. "If you don't want to be sliced up for research, hide your claws!"

He forced himself to pull his attention back to the screen, but his heart hammered heavily in his chest.

In the base administration building, the door to the Commander’s office was tightly shut. Jing Zhimin had just finished an encrypted communication, his face so gloomy it could drip water. He tugged at his collar irritably, as if the fabric were choking him.

The red indicator light on the private line phone on his desk glowed like a devil’s eye—it was a direct line from the Security Oversight Office of the Interstellar Command Center.

The questioning in the recent call, seemingly polite but actually aggressive, had felt like a cold whip lashing at his nerves. "Abnormal activity," "unreported high-energy experiments," "untraceable special materials"... every word was like a poison-tipped needle.

He had temporarily pushed back by relying on his seniority and toughness, but the other party’s final words, "We will continue to watch, and we hope Commander Jing will keep the big picture in mind," sounded more like an ultimatum.

The pressure was like a physical boulder, weighing heavily on his shoulders. He walked to the window and gazed toward the abandoned warehouse, which was tightly wrapped in lead plates, his eyes filled with complexity.

Xu Yan’s "Cocoon" project was like dancing on the edge of a blade; every tiny step forward was accompanied by enormous risk.

"Knock, knock, knock." A knock sounded at the door, carrying a hint of hesitation.

"Enter." Jing Zhimin composed his expression, returning to his usual cold rigidity.

The door was pushed open. Ouyang Nan stood in the doorway, her posture tall and straight, but her eyes were shifting, carrying the weight of a decision made. "Reporting to the Commander, Ouyang Nan has a matter to report."

Jing Zhimin’s sharp gaze swept over her: "Speak."

Ouyang Nan took a deep breath, walked in, and pulled the door shut behind her, cutting off the sounds from the corridor. She stood still, looking directly at Jing Zhimin, her voice low but every word clear: "It is about Xu Yan, Commander."

Jing Zhimin’s pupils contracted imperceptibly, though his face remained unmoved: "What about Xu Yan? Is there a problem with his training performance?"

"No, not training." Ouyang Nan shook her head, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of an imperceptible tremor. "It is his... state. I suspect... there is something abnormal about him."

She clearly stated the incredible scene she had witnessed at the training ground, as well as the various unreasonable details accumulated over the past period—his overly advanced technological cognition, his inhuman reaction speed, and the occasional sense of detachment that felt out of place with the surrounding environment.

She did not use the absurd term "alien," but the word "abnormal" was enough to express all her doubts and anxiety.

"It’s as if... he has been replaced. Or rather, that something else is living inside him," Ouyang Nan said finally, her gaze locking onto Jing Zhimin, attempting to find an answer or affirmation on his face.

The office fell into a deathly silence. Only the training chants from outside the window drifted in, as remote as another world.

Jing Zhimin listened in silence, his fingers tapping the smooth desktop unconsciously, making a monotonous "tap, tap" sound. His face held no expression, like cold rock beneath a deep pool. Ouyang Nan’s suspicion was like a key, precisely inserted into the door in his heart labeled "Xu Yan's Secret"—a door he had kept locked for so long. But he could not open it, not yet.

A long time passed, so long that Ouyang Nan almost thought he would not answer. Only then did Jing Zhimin slowly speak, his voice low and carrying an unquestionable authority: "Ouyang Nan."

"Sir."

"You are a soldier of the Jinjiang Special Forces, not an agent of the Security Bureau." Jing Zhimin’s gaze was as sharp as a knife, piercing into Ouyang Nan’s eyes. "Your duty is to train, to fight, and to complete missions! Not to act like a detective, suspecting your comrades—especially one who has rendered meritorious service and possesses special talents!"

Ouyang Nan’s body stiffened, the color fading from her face.

"Xu Yan has secrets, I know." Jing Zhimin’s voice intensified suddenly, carrying a heavy sense of oppression. "But this secret concerns the future of Jinjiang, and perhaps even the progress of the entire Blue Star's interstellar exploration! This is not a level you should be questioning! Keep everything you’ve seen and thought buried in your stomach! This is an order! Do you understand?!"

"But Commander..." Ouyang Nan wanted to argue.

"There is no 'but'!" Jing Zhimin slammed the table with a loud "bang," cutting her off. "Execute the order! Control your eyes and your mouth! Dismissed!"

Ouyang Nan was stunned by this sudden severity. She looked at the unquestionable resolve and the deeply hidden warning in Jing Zhimin’s eyes. Finally, all her doubts and unwillingness were forcibly suppressed.

She straightened her back, gave a standard military salute, and said in a dry voice: "Yes! Commander!" She turned around and left the office, her steps appearing slightly stiff.

The moment the door closed, Jing Zhimin seemed drained of all strength. He leaned back heavily into his chair, closed his eyes in exhaustion, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Ouyang Nan’s suspicion was like a thorn stuck in his heart.

Xu Yan’s secret was like an ever-expanding balloon. Under the invisible pressure from all sides, he did not know when it would suddenly explode.

And all he could do, it seemed, was to use a tougher shell to tightly contain this secret, which could detonate at any moment.