I became a god by treasure hunting after arriving 500 years early-Chapter 690 - 510: The Ninth Epoch is the Final Epoch
Chapter 690 -510: The Ninth Epoch is the Final Epoch
Here is the requested translation:
Lu Yuan couldn’t help but scratch his head—this damned [Monster], so greedy yet cowardly.
I really want to beat you into minced meat.
Nonetheless, the cost of this human expenditure can only be borne with gritted teeth. If you’re not willing to use bait, how can you catch big fish?
“How much will it cost?” Lu Yuan asked.
“Hard to estimate, it depends on its level of greed. Actually, it doesn’t require much; just give it a little bit every now and then, and it’ll find it irresistible…”
“In this way, the mental network of eight million people could subtly influence the [Monster].”
Miss Conch said earnestly, “As long as we continuously and tirelessly influence it, it’ll create an illusion—that humans are dangerous, and Green Grass City brings danger too. It will have to transmit us out. Maybe one day, we’ll suddenly be thrown out. That’s essentially the plan.”
The method sounds crude, but it does have some feasibility.
Compared to the violent, brutal snake-man [Ghost], the secretly man-eating [Monster] feels as gentle as a kindergarten child.
After Miss Conch finished speaking, the meeting room fell silent again.
Even the Lanpeng people had no further questions to raise.
They hung their heads, as if… this might indeed be the only way.
Lu Yuan took a deep breath: “Comrades, since this is a long-term war, let’s expand the small grotto-heaven first… The area doesn’t need to grow much, but the height must accommodate a Green Mountain and the inner ring of Sky City.”
Several officials from the logistics department quickly calculated: “Roughly 453 points of luck will be required, especially as the grotto-heaven’s entrance will need to be expanded…”
“Well, one-time investment with future long-term return.”
Lu Yuan felt bitter inside. Humans investing more than four hundred points of luck—who knows if they’ll ever recover the cost? Their total assets are barely over 3000 points.
But it couldn’t be helped. Hiding in the grotto-heaven is indeed safer, and the research equipment is more complete.
After rounds of discussion, the proposal was approved with a high number of votes.
Lu Yuan suddenly thought of something: “I also need to emphasize this point—although we have some resources, long-term reliance on Different Space for protection might not be sustainable.”
“So, it’s necessary to send a survey team to the snake-man city to gather more clues.”
He read aloud: “This move is extremely dangerous because that place might contain trapped [Demon], and an unknown [Ghost] whose actions remain unclear…”
“Everyone here understands how terrifying [Ghost] can be. It truly has the power to annihilate civilizations with ease.”
“But we must still explore… I ask everyone to brainstorm ways to increase the chances of success.”
“I volunteer.” Duke Magmit of the Lanpeng civilization raised his hand. “I have the ability of historical retrospection, which can uncover more information.”
“Additionally, we can provide several X-class power armors to reduce the chances of being detected by [Ghost].”
Lu Yuan nodded.
This duke is indeed a qualified candidate.
Miss Conch is actually a good choice too.
But given the current situation, Miss Conch should remain here and focus on building the dream network.
Lu Yuan himself also had to go. If [Demon] or anything suddenly appeared to cause trouble, he could at least hold his own.
As for the other team members, he chose Guo Dafeng, a comrade with excellent reconnaissance skills, two translation experts, and a few soldiers skilled in drone operation.
Additionally, an old cat comrade joined the lineup.
This elite squad was pretty much complete.
They also prepared a floating spaceship, filled with unmanned detection devices.
Attack missiles were omitted—if a battle broke out, they didn’t want to alarm [Ghost].
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However, Spirit Runes were equipped. These devices made little sound, had minimal disturbance, and were easy for ordinary people to use—a truly fantastic technology.
…
“Let’s move out!” Humans split into two groups. One larger spaceship headed to Quincy City, 300 kilometers away, to transport hibernation chambers.
The other smaller spaceship quickly floated toward the snake-man city.
On the barren yellow desert and hard bluish-gray rocks stood an ancient city, desolate and weathered.
It truly felt like a dragon’s den and tiger’s lair.
Lu Yuan kept wondering—even if [Ghost] was dismembered, was there any way to seal it?
If sealing wasn’t possible, fighting [Ghost] would be a ridiculous waste of effort.
“It’s impossible for now. But if, in the future, we reach Fourth-level or Fifth-level civilization, could corresponding technologies emerge?”
“As of now, the only promising option is Spirit Language Technology,” said Old Cat. “But that requires us to enhance the power of [Painted Skin] first.”
“What about the Lanpeng civilization’s technological tree?”
Magmit replied, “Our civilization’s strongest physical material, carbon acetylene, would likely struggle to seal a [Ghost].”
This Birdman spoke plainly—after all, such matters were life-and-death.
After yesterday’s harrowing night, he didn’t dare boast.
“However, our civilization’s technological tree originates from a lunar space fortress.”
“That spaceship carries stronger nano-materials. Unfortunately, my civilization has never cracked them, so we cannot manufacture them. For example, a material named Flying Blade, only a tenth as thick as human hair, can cut through carbon acetylene.”
“There’s also a metallic hydrogen material called ‘Holy Mother’s Tears,’ whose atomic arrangement consists of a single layer of hydrogen atoms. But we entirely lack the production method—not even the theoretical foundation.”
Magmit sighed: “Our laboratories do contain a small amount of related material, but the quantity is clearly insufficient to seal a [Ghost].”
Lu Yuan frowned. Given the difficulties of traditional materialistic methods, could combining some idealistic approaches be a possibility?
Especially with so many human engraving engineers at their disposal…
But now wasn’t the time for last-minute efforts. They were on a tight schedule—when night fell, [Ghost] might emerge again. Completing their mission was crucial.
Dozens of small drones were released from the spaceship.
The team saw withered trees, vast patches of dry haystacks, and crumbling city walls.
Large azure stones, unweathered, each weighed around ten tons, with traces of engravings on their surfaces.
This might have been an extraordinarily powerful city once; the task of constructing with ten-ton stones solely using human labor was unimaginably extensive.
Before long, they saw several snake-like creatures, bare-skinned, entirely bluish-gray, around four meters long but unhealthily thin, with long arms and vertical pupils, eerily staring at the drones.
Watching the steady hum of the rotor blades, one snake-like creature suddenly sprang forward, grabbing a drone and biting down with its sharp, long teeth.
“Crunch!”
The camera was directly chewed to pieces.
The exploration team aboard the high-altitude spaceship flinched in surprise.
Lu Yuan remarked, “It seems to be a natural hunting instinct. Raise the drones higher.”
Then, he squinted his eyes and leaned forward, peering outside the ship.
Pioneer’s Eye: [Likely a sapient species, but their souls are somewhat incomplete—perhaps beyond salvation.]
[Prolonged detrimental selection has led this race to gradually degenerate; they may no longer qualify as a sapient species. Even newborns, with thorough education, struggle to develop into a sapient race.]
[Shape: 7.9–9.2]
[Qi: 8.2–10.1]
[Spirit: 0.2–0.5]
It was the first time Lu Yuan had seen attributes distributed so absurdly—0.2–0.5 in Spirit, similar to various insects.
Ordinary animals—birds, mammals—at least had 1–2 points in Spirit.
Lu Yuan swallowed and shared the scouting intel with his comrades.
“I see, no wonder this [Monster] appears anxious,” Old Cat observed. “Snake-men have been domesticated for so long that they’ve completely degenerated. No matter how they’re raised, it’s impossible to extract Spirit Essence from them anymore. Without energy, the [Monster] will be killed by the [Ghost].”
“Humans are not suitable for domestication.”
“On the other hand, Lanpeng people are quite suited for domestication—they’re an egg-laying species.”
“No, no, no, we’re actually not suitable either,” Duke Magmit interjected. “We Lanpeng require superior noble genes. Many commoners reproduce by integrating noble genes. This selection process ensures our descendants are more excellent.”
“But where do exceptional nobles come from? Internal competition is extremely brutal. The children of nobles certainly enjoy lavish privileges, but very few truly stand out.”
“If being domesticated by [Monster] removes this selection, our genetic lines would deteriorate rapidly.”
“I see… now I understand.” Lu Yuan nodded thoughtfully. “Your prince, Lord Jin Bote, is indeed outstanding—his actions in dire straits have left us with hope.”
Magmit felt slightly comforted.
But after operating aboard the spaceship for a long while, the team found that the drone surveillance yielded limited content.
It was all just scenes of snake-men dazing off, sleeping, or fighting—whatever written records had existed had rotted away long ago.
They had slowly regressed into primitive animals.
The Mandala Fruit, a form of extraordinary food, could sustain an individual for several days. With no worries, the snake-men filled their lives with endless cycles of eating and sleeping.
Due to the genetic decline of the snake-men, the [Monster]’s intelligence constantly deteriorated as well.
If [Monster] could find a suitable race for domestication, it might abandon the snake-men.
“What if it never finds one?” Old Cat asked.
“That would mean… [Monster] could die during the Ninth Epoch,” Lu Yuan answered. “The Underground Alliance would surely mark this area to prevent other civilizations from approaching.”
“At that point, [Monster] would perish due to energy starvation, along with everyone else.”
“So, the Ninth Epoch is the final epoch…”
Lu Yuan sighed deeply: “While this sounds somewhat mystical, combining many factors does lend it some plausibility. Simply put, the legacy mechanisms of previous eras are nearing their end.”
“Unless the beings of this epoch can outperform expectations and create exceptionally powerful civilizations, the entire Pangu Continent might not have a next epoch…”
