FT DR Chapter 90: The Emergence of the God Among Men

Chapter 90: The Emergence of the God Among Men

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

 

“You can’t turn yourself in right now, otherwise both of you will be in mortal danger. I won’t explain the reasons to you, because this involves federal secrets. Until I resolve this matter, you cannot leave here.” Jin Zhe said these three sentences and then left the safe house.

The heavy radiation-proof door closed with a dull sound. Jin Zhe deactivated the electronic lock and locked the door with the most primitive mechanical latch. He heard his younger brother’s desperate roar from behind the door, the sound of fists pounding on the door, followed by the dull sound of his body hitting the metal wall. He saw his brother’s quantum beast crawling out of the wall, glaring at him with blood-red eyes and roaring at him. But he knew that he couldn’t afford to be soft at this time. He could only suppress it with his own quantum beast and force it into the safe house.

Jin Zhe’s hands were shaking badly. Although Jin Xuan was his brother by blood, he was practically like his son. He watched Jin Xuan grow from a six-month-old embryo into a handsome young man of twenty-five. Jin Xuan was his pride, his spiritual support, his greatest reliance in this lifetime.

From childhood to adulthood, Jin Zhe couldn’t bear to lay a finger on Jin Xuan. Even though Jin Xuan was so stubborn and eccentric, even though he was going through his teenage rebellious phase, Jin Zhe was willing to accommodate him, even indulge him. Because he hoped that under his protection, Jin Xuan could live without compromise, without having to conform to society, and live freely.

As the president, Jin Zhe had to constantly suppress his nature, cater to public opinion, and this process was very painful. Jin Xuan’s presence alleviated this pain, giving him a place to anchor his personality, allowing him to make rational choices in times of pain and confusion.

Everyone thought he was indulging his brother, but only he knew that it was Jin Xuan who was saving him—he had to draw positive energy from a clean soul to convince himself to bear those negative shadows.

Jin Zhe walked up the steps in a daze. When he turned the corner, he almost stumbled and rolled down the stairs. The special agents at the door wanted to come down to help him, but he stopped them. He closed the door to the basement with his own hands, telling them that no one was allowed to approach or open the door, then returned to his office.

He refused the secretary’s request to call a doctor. Jin Zhe sat in front of the window wearing a torn shirt for the whole afternoon, watching as the daylight faded and twilight fell, but he never opened the files on his desk. At dusk, the secretary knocked on the door and said that Mr. Hobart had arrived. It was then that he seemed to regain his senses and said, “Let him in.”

“How’s Jin Xuan?” Hobart looked at him with concern, noticing that there hadn’t been any progress on the work schedule all afternoon, and sighed, sitting down in the chair opposite him. 

Jin Zhe shook his head. “Not good. He was already injured, and his consciousness is unstable… I gave him a tranquilizer to calm him down. I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

“How did the conversation go?”

“What else could it be?” Jin Zhe smiled bitterly. “He wants to turn himself in and be exiled with the child.”

“Locking him up is the right thing to do. He’s so stubborn, he won’t compromise at all.”

“I spoiled him. I never knew how to compromise. Now it’s time for him to learn.” Jin Zhe wiped his forehead in distress. “I’m worried about his health. He’s been under too much strain these three months, he’s thin and his arm is injured.”

“Can he hold on for another three months?” Hobart asked.

“I don’t know.” Jin Zhe shook his head. “I can’t take him to see a doctor, or let a doctor go down to see him. He has to bear it all by himself.”

Hobart frowned. “That won’t do, Jin Zhe. Jin Xuan’s temper is too stubborn. If he didn’t know before, now that he knows… And Wu Chenghe probably can’t bear it either. How’s the child?”

“On the surface, he’s fine.” Jin Zhe said. “The guide school says his physical signs are normal, he’s gained 0.8 kilograms in weight this month, which is a bit less for twins, but still within the normal range. Mentally, there seems to be a tendency towards depression, but he’s organized a consciousness control club and interacts with classmates frequently, so that might help. How about the work on your end?”

“The request to repeal the ‘severance’ clause has passed Congress and will soon be submitted to you.” Hobart said, “Commander Hannibal’s attitude has played a big role. He and two other generals have requested an immediate repeal of the clause and a halt to research in this area—the Voyager Army has nearly two thousand pairs of sentinel-guide pairs, and if this technology leaks out, it will bring catastrophic disasters.”

“Very good.” Jin Zhe’s brow relaxed slightly. “With this, the biggest problem is solved… Any news from Sienna’s side?”

“Indeed, she provided the genuine drug samples related to the Black Pearl incident to the Cabinet, including formulas, experimental records, and so on,” Hobart said. “She also rallied support from some members of Congress to initiate a proposal to amend the Protection Act. This is her eighth time doing so. To expand influence, I enlisted the support of some lawmakers. I think it’s time for you to step forward when appropriate.”

“Alright,” Jin Zhe nodded. “Making extensive amendments to the Protection Act in the short term is unlikely, after all, there are too few guides, and they do need protection. But we can start by modifying the education system in guide schools. The Ministry of Education is already drafting documents in this regard, and data collection is underway.” He opened his personal terminal. “This is the email Wu Chenghe sent me, containing his papers and some discussions from their association. It’s very interesting and has given me a lot of inspiration. I intend to have the Ministry of Education coordinate with Tungusic and try to arrange for my research group to visit Tungusic for an exchange meeting or something.” 

After the last conversation with Wu Chenghe, he organized some experts in guide medicine and psychology to discuss guide education reform.

“Uh, the Ministry of Education has proposed such activities before, but they were all rejected by guide schools,” Hobart said. “The successive principals of guide schools are all hardliners, including Mrs. Balon. They don’t like the Ministry of Education meddling in their affairs. They prefer to stand independently outside the federal education system.”

“Not anymore,” Jin Zhe said. “I don’t like hardliners. Whoever is stubborn, I’ll dismiss them.”

Hobart chuckled. “You’re the president, your word is final.” He took an ice pack from the freezer for him. “Let’s take care of that facial injury. It’s too frightening. If the president is beaten like this, the public will go crazy.”

Jin Zhe grimaced, applying the ice pack to his face and propping his feet on the desk. “This kid is too strong, and his skills are good. He truly deserves to be a member of the Special Forces. I always thought he was better at long-range attacks like sniping — he’s quite a show-off, likes to play it cool. I didn’t expect him to enjoy head-on combat on the battlefield.”

“Just like you, fundamentally hot-tempered,” Hobart chuckled. “For now, the bill can only proceed like this. So, how are we going to resolve their issue?”

“Two ways: either get Wu Chenghe out or get Jin Xuan in,” Jin Zhe shrugged. “To be safe, I plan to tackle both. First, establish communication channels through the Ministry of Education and the Tungusic base, see if we can temporarily transfer Wu Chenghe to work on the reform of the Protection Act, and incidentally let them meet and recuperate. Once they’ve recovered, I’ll use the Black Pearl incident to bring Wu Chenghe into NTU to provide medical support for Jin Xuan’s Special Forces.”

Hobart nodded. “That shouldn’t be too difficult, it should work.”

“On the other hand, I plan to officially transfer Jin Xuan to NTU and accumulate enough qualifications to apply for guide military ranks.”

“That’s a bit challenging,” Hobart frowned. “He’s only been a Major for less than two years, still far from the standard. How could he suddenly be promoted in three months?”

“This time, NTU has already applied for commendations for their Special Forces team regarding the Tianque Spaceport incident. He’s about to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and will receive a ‘Blue Ocean’ medal. These will all earn him points,” Jin Zhe said. “However, with his situation, upgrading through normal channels won’t be fast enough; we’ll have to take a more unconventional approach. I plan to have him continue investigating the Black Pearl case and delve deeper into the Second Army’s rebellion.”

“The rebellion case?” Hobart was surprised. “NTU is framing it like that?”

“I’m framing it like that,” Jin Zhe said. “The Voyager Army’s authority must be gradually reined in; they’ve gone too far. If this continues, they’ll eventually split from the Federation. Among the Voyager Army’s three major groups, the Hannibal faction is powerful and cohesive, so we can’t touch them. Popova is closely aligned with the Federation, loyal, so we won’t act on them for now. That leaves us with Lancer. By stirring up the conflict between him and Hannibal during the last investigation, we’ve already started. If the Federation presents a further investigation stance, Hannibal will surely join the investigation team to suppress Lancer. Then, at the critical moment, they’ll swallow up the Second Army or let their own people take the General’s position—Hannibal has the capability and backup candidates for it.”

“The Federation would be taking on considerable risks with this approach, Jin Zhe,” Hobart said solemnly. “Maintaining the current situation, at least, divides powers into three branches. The conflict between Hannibal and Lancer can ensure they won’t unite in the short term. If the Federation suddenly moves against the Second Army, as you said, Hannibal will seize the opportunity to expand his territory. If we can’t protect the fruits of victory at the last moment and let him seize them first, his power will be too great, making the situation more dangerous than it is now.”

“The previous presidents refrained from taking action for such considerations, allowing the Voyager Army’s three major groups to develop and grow,” Jin Zhe said firmly. “The former president always talked about ‘boiling the frog in warm water,’ advocating a gradual division of the Voyager Army. But I don’t think he ever figured out which frog was the real one. If this continues, the Federation will be boiled by the Voyager Army!”

Hobart fell silent for a moment. “Alright, I agree with your idea. But with such a big plan, are you sure Jin Xuan can handle it? He’s too young, lacking experience.”

“Experience only applies to mediocrities. For true geniuses, experience can only become a stumbling block to their imagination,” Jin Zhe said. “I trust Jin Xuan’s abilities. If there were any doubts before, the Tianque Spaceport mission has fully demonstrated his strength. He has first-class intuition and adaptability, outstanding physical fitness, comprehensive technical skills, mental resilience, and can withstand inhuman pressures.” He paused. “And he has no other choice. This is the only way for him to obtain legal marriage.”

Hobart fell silent again. Jin Zhe spoke nothing but facts, but the greater fact was—Jin Xuan was indeed too young.

“But I won’t let him bear such a heavy burden recklessly,” Jin Zhe said. “The plan is to progress gradually. The first phase is to continue investigating the Black Pearl case, with Jin Xuan directly involved. As the case progresses, it will be a natural transition. As for the future, I believe he can seize the opportunity, maintain control of the plan from beginning to end, and not let it slip into others’ hands.”

“Alright,” Hobart pondered carefully. At this stage, Jin Xuan’s rank and experience seemed sufficient for such a task. As Jin Zhe said, as long as he seizes the opportunity, as the case grows, he will grow along with the plan.

The key was that Jin Zhe was behind him, with a natural advantage in the overall situation and information.

“Uh, so there’s one more question,” Hobart asked. As seasoned politicians, they always saved these “minor details” for last—politics was all about results, not truths.

“I think there is,” Jin Zhe raised an eyebrow. “General Lancer is indeed related to the Black Pearl case. Lancer’s ambitions are no smaller than Hannibal’s. He has always been trying to control the ‘Free Guide Organization,’ which reportedly has more than two thousand guides. That’s 20% more than all the guides currently in the Voyager Army. And supposedly, this organization has unique research results that can influence genetic patterns, increasing guide birth rates. With such a big temptation, who wouldn’t be tempted?”

“I see,” Hobart said. “Sienna provided us with similar drugs, but they’re immature and haven’t undergone human trials.”

Jin Zhe said, “Yes, I suspect Sienna is the highest leader of the ‘Free Guide Organization,’ so I want to cooperate with her through this opportunity to amend the Protection Act. Our guides are too weak, like flowers in a greenhouse, they simply can’t withstand the storms. Once a war breaks out, they will definitely be our weak spot. I believe true guides, like sentinels, can become excellent warriors. So, I want to explore more powerful guides through the ‘Free Guide Organization’ and educate our existing guides in their ways.”

He looked out the window, his gaze profound. “The universe is vast, we don’t know when we’ll encounter powerful enemies. If we, out of fear of certain human factions’ strength, annihilate them, neuter their capabilities, then we are essentially breaking our own swords. When a strong enemy invades, we’ll only be offering our necks for the slaughter. I cannot be such a sinner.”

True genius thinking always operates on a different level from the masses, thought Hobart as he observed Jin Zhe’s profound expression. For over eight hundred years of human unity, ever since the extermination of the alien scorpions three hundred years ago, there hadn’t been encounters with formidable enemies. Each past president had focused more on internal Federation management, balancing interests, weighing gains and losses. Only Jin Zhe consistently stood on the standpoint of all humanity, staring at the entire universe.

“Leave these high-end issues for you to contemplate,” Hobart stood up. “I’ll go organize your recent thoughts and think about how to execute them.”

“Okay,” Jin Zhe scratched his head. “I should also change my clothes and eat something… sigh, I wonder how Jin Xuan is doing. Maybe I should go check on him…” When it came to his younger brother, he immediately reverted to being a worried elder brother.

Over a month later, at the Tungusic Base, Wu Chenghe sat in a chair in the study room, wearily looking at the teacher’s lecture notes. He was nearly five months pregnant with twins, and his belly had slightly swollen, although he himself remained quite thin.

“What’s wrong?” Hans noticed his absent gaze, paused the lecture, and asked with concern.

Wu Chenghe remained silent, sitting up slightly to signal him to continue. Hans closed the lecture notes and said, “You’ve been emotionally unstable lately. Have you sought counseling?”

Wu Chenghe nodded, but the melancholy in his eyes persisted. This was the negative impact brought by the bond. He had been separated from his sentinel for too long, and his consciousness clouded due to being unable to soothe his mate. Psychologically, he had gradually developed problems, feeling hopeless and bored with life.

The school arranged a psychologist for him and often had friendly students accompany him, but everything seemed to be scratching an itch through shoes. It simply didn’t work. Wu Chenghe often stayed awake night after night, staring into space, experiencing hallucinations. Sometimes he saw Jin Xuan smiling gently at him at the bedside, or lying in a pool of blood in the basement—Jin Zhe told him Jin Xuan had returned, detained in a safe house at the official residence due to mania, and he had to wait until he gave birth to the children to see him.

He responded to Jin Zhe’s letters rationally, attended classes calmly, participated in salons, brainwashed students, but he couldn’t control his depression. He desperately wanted to see Jin Xuan, to be with him. Sometimes, sitting in class, he would suddenly want to get up and leave, walk out of the Tungusic gate, and let the green tide drown him.

At first, he just thought about it, but later he actually did it. Without warning, he stood up during a public class, walked through the school, and went all the way to the edge of the transparent wall, where he stood against the wall for a full hour. Later, campus security brought him back, and Luther checked him out, finding that he had severe depression. It was from that time on that the school arranged counseling for him.

“Hey, don’t be like this,” Hans walked over, smiling at him. “The ‘severance’ clause has been abolished; you should be happy.”

“Indeed, it’s abolished, he won’t die…” Wu Chenghe stared blankly at Hans, his eyes shifting, then suddenly sat up and said, “Exile me.”

Hans was taken aback. Wu Chenghe had always been very protective of his sentinel, never revealing his partner’s name even after the clause was abolished. This was the first time he had brought up the matter voluntarily.

“Have you made up your mind?” The smile at the corner of Hans’ mouth gradually faded, and he spoke seriously, “I can call the investigation team now. As long as you tell us your sentinel’s name, after verification, you can meet him.”

Wu Chenghe opened his mouth, leaned back against the chair, and lowered his eyelids, saying nothing more, shaking his head after a while. He had endured for almost five months now, and in just one more month, he would be able to see Jin Xuan. Plus, he couldn’t unilaterally disobey Jin Zhe’s orders.

That night, he spent the entire night writing a letter to Jin Zhe, writing, deleting, and rewriting, finally asking at the end: Can I be exiled together with Jin Xuan?

For the first time, he revealed his true feelings to Jin Zhe—he was very scared, couldn’t sleep for whole nights, he wanted to see Jin Xuan, he always fantasized that Jin Xuan was dying…

The next day, Jin Zhe came to Tungusic personally to see him. They sat face to face in the main hall of the ship house, not saying a word, sitting for a long time. Finally, Jin Zhe hugged him, patting his head like a father and said, “I’m sorry.”

Wu Chenghe nodded silently. Jin Zhe continued, “On the day he came back, he said the same thing.”

Wu Chenghe couldn’t hold back anymore, covering his eyes, turning his head away, taking deep breaths. It took a long, long time for him to suppress the tears and say, “I will hold on.”

“Take care of yourself.” Jin Zhe squeezed his shoulder. “What I said, I will definitely do.”

After Jin Zhe left, Wu Chenghe felt a bit more composed. He resumed classes and continued with his salons. His club had expanded over the past two months, now boasting over a hundred members, drawing the school’s attention. Later, someone informed the school about their discussion content. The head of education wanted to ban their club, but was stopped by Mrs. Balon.

The President’s stance was already clear, and representatives from the Ministry of Education had contacted her several times. Changing the teaching model was already a done deal. She had tried to oppose, but the reply to the submitted letters came from Jin Zhe’s secretary, behind a long official document, hiding the actual response: Either do it, or leave.

“She” couldn’t leave, so “she” had to go along with the President’s wishes.

So when Wu Chenghe lay on the operating table, his club had become the largest club in the guide school, with over two hundred and thirty members, and had started its own e-magazine, contemplating applying for an elective course in mental attack.

Because this club had been shrouded in mystery and revolutionary since its establishment, the members named it the “Phoenix Society,” paying homage to a secret organization from a thousand years ago.

“Are you ready?” On the day of the operation, Dr. Luther personally prepared to operate, gently asking Wu Chenghe lying on the operating table.

“I’m ready.” Wu Chenghe said calmly. In order to meet Jin Xuan as soon as possible, he chose the nearest date for the operation. The fetuses were still a bit small, but Dr. Luther said it wasn’t a big problem because they were both healthy.

“Then let’s begin.” Dr. Luther injected him with anesthesia, and Wu Chenghe slowly closed his eyes, gradually entering a state of anesthesia. In his confusion, he had another hallucination, as if he saw Jin Xuan standing by his bedside, smiling at him gently.

Jin Xuan… Wu Chenghe silently repeated his name and fell into a deep sleep.

Two hours later, he woke up from his slumber, and as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw two artificial uteruses placed by the bed, with two tiny fetuses floating in the artificial amniotic fluid, their tiny hands and feet moving slowly, dragging the umbilical cord in circles.

The labels displayed their information—A1: Male, weighing four hundred and ten grams, height twenty-five centimeters. A2: Male, weighing three hundred and eighty grams, height twenty-three centimeters.

Wu Chenghe silently told himself that the bigger one was Wu Chenggong,¹ and the smaller one was Jin Shengli.² Looking at the two tiny embryos, who couldn’t even be distinguished in terms of facial features, the suppressed emotions suddenly brightened.

These were his and Jin Xuan’s children.

 

 

 

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