I Really Didn t Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World

Chapter 679: Chapter 423: A Human Face (Thank You, Alliance Leader Devil Ronin)_3

The blue one had a 360-degree rotation capability at the shoulder and elbow, with a hydraulic lifting force of 3,200 kilograms. It was manufactured in 2315 and excavated from an underground obsolete parts warehouse of a factory in Oxfordshire.

The yellow one was slightly longer, with a snake-necked multi-link structure, relying on the bending force of an organic metal for stretching. It had eight fingers and a lifting force of just 765 kilograms, but it was more flexible. It was manufactured in 2416 and excavated from a workshop warehouse in a city along the Eastern Coast.

In order to give it a feminine name fitting Vivian, Harrison Clark glued some coconut brown hair to the back of its head, barely making it look like it had long hair.

Vivian: “Sorry, your Mandarin is not standard enough. Please issue the command again.”

“Steak! Medium-rare!”

“Alright.”

Upon receiving the information via the voice recognition system, robot Vivian moved towards the metal table with a series of creaks and began frying the steak according to the preset program.

Harrison Clark stood by for two minutes, then opened Vivian’s central control box and adjusted the capacitor voltage, making Vivian’s force control more precise when frying the steak. After observing for another minute, he was satisfied.

He took another sip of tea and started writing in his diary on the beach chair.

“Day 167 since arriving here. Morrowind No.1 is functioning well.”

“At least I have someone to talk to since creating Vivian three days ago. But I’m still very lonely.”

“Because of drinking tea, the voices in my head are getting louder, and the information I receive is becoming denser, causing my sleep quality to decline.”

“I haven’t spoken in so long that my Mandarin has deteriorated. Hahaha! How embarrassing.”

“My genetic awakening level has increased to 42.81%, but lately, the progress has been slower, and the effectiveness of the tea leaves has decreased. I don’t know when it will stop.”

“I still haven’t found the reason for our defeat.”

“I still haven’t obtained spaceflight ability and access to the quantum network.”

“I want to go home and talk to people, but I can’t leave yet. I have a feeling that if I go back empty-handed this time, defeat will still await me in the end.”

“I, Harrison Clark, am the most resilient and strongest among Earthlings when it comes to enduring loneliness. If I give up, then probably no one else can make it.”

“The next goal is to build a space-level spaceship with Morrowind No.1 as soon as possible. Continue to expand the computer’s capabilities. Even if it doesn’t work out, I can still try interstellar travel without a shield. I can’t sit idly by.”

“No matter what choice I make, I must leave Earth.”

After writing this, he drained another cup of tea, and suddenly his head became groggy and extremely drowsy.

But at that moment, Vivian was already coming towards him with the freshly fried steak.

Due to a glitch in the program settings, Vivian’s yellow iron clamp-like arm forcefully shoved the scalding hot steak into his mouth, burning him badly. His slightly groggy head immediately cleared up somewhat.

Harrison Clark’s mouth was searing in pain, and he quickly spat out the steak, escaped from Vivian’s claw, reached into his mouth with a finger, and found blood on his fingertip.

He rolled his eyes and jumped back into Morrowind No.1, opened the recently retrofitted quark therapy device, scanned his mouth, and prepared for repairs.

Just then, a picture suddenly flashed on the liquid crystal display in front of him.

The data displayed on the liquid crystal display was his personal gene analysis results, usually a long string of binary numbers, which he deciphered with his bare eyes.

However, this time there seemed to be too many numbers, with tiny fonts and densely packed.

Countless 0s and 1s eventually formed a picture.

Harrison Clark was dumbfounded.

He recognized the person in the picture.

Sergey Ponomarenko.

The most amazing talent among all his younger brothers.

Harrison Clark was shocked, with countless questions flooding his mind.

What does this mean?

Does this information come from my brain?

When the therapy device scanned, it scanned the inside of my mouth, which is very close to my brain.

Just now, there was a lot of noise inside my head. The noise was so loud that it seemed to have exceeded a certain limit, resembling a readable signal.

These signals must be part of the orders given by ZS bacteria to animals.

However, other orders are usually just broad hostile intentions. Why does a photo of Sergey appear?

It’s been 500 years, and the ZS bacteria still remember his face?

What does it mean?

Does Sergey have such a long face?

Is his prestige even greater than mine?

Harrison Clark wouldn’t deny Sergey’s talent, but compared to his own achievements, Sergey would have to rank behind.

If the Compound-Eyed Observer only needed to keep an eye on people with higher threat levels, it shouldn’t pay so much attention to Sergey.

This doesn’t make sense!

Wait a moment…

As a quick thinker, he suddenly realized, could it be that Sergey is still on Earth?

So he’s still on the ZS bacteria’s hostility watchlist, with the highest priority and greatest intensity?

Once this idea arose, it was unstoppable.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.