I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World-Chapter 468 - 309: Theory of Fate (Thanks to

Chapter 468: Chapter 309: Theory of Fate (Thanks to

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Translator: 549690339

Three minutes later, Nora Camp finally spoke.

She slowly said, “Every time I watch Mr. Nalson’s performance, I have new insights. On behalf of all the officers and soldiers of the Black Bear Training Base, I thank you. You have depicted a desperate future for us, but we still thank you. Ordinary people may not want to accept your conjecture, but we will!”

Nora Camp took a deep breath and suddenly raised her voice, “Because we are soldiers! We must accept the most desperate possibility among infinite possibilities, we must prepare for the worst, and allow for the possibility of this desperate future because we have no choice!”

“It is the enemy that has chosen us, not us who have chosen the enemy! Soldiers do not care about what the future holds. Whether Mr. Nalson’s conjecture is right or wrong, we only have one choice—abandon naivety and greet the war!”

“We will fight a war regardless of victory or defeat! Throw away illusions about the outcome and fight first—even if we can only fight once! Winning is, of course, good, but even if we lose, there is no shame in our hearts!”

“Rather than blind optimism, I would prefer to really think about reality in the way Mr. Nalson hypothesized, embracing all possible pessimism with no way out. As Master Harrison Clark said a thousand years ago.”

“If there is no choice, do not hold hope, and naturally never disappoint!”

“If the enemy wants war! Give them war! Fight if they want to fight!”

Her unbreakable will accompanied her strong tone, instantly rushing towards everyone in the arena like a storm, sweeping across the vast stadium.

It was first met with a deathly silence.

No one knew who quietly raised their right fist, punching the air with a red face and shouting the first sentence, “If they want war, we’ll give them war!”

This shout was like a jumping flame running wild in the wind on a wide-open field covered in dry grass, quickly spreading around.

“Fight if they want war!”

Countless people shouted in unison.

The scattered shouts became neat and disciplined.

The waves of sound tore through the sky and soared into the clouds.

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With one year left until the war, Nora Camp took advantage of this art show to squeeze the fighting spirit to its highest point beforehand.

Harrison Clark didn’t join in the shouting; he just silently watched the scene unfold.

He could feel his “mother” growing in every timeline.

Doing a good job in ideological and political work, inspiring morale, and integrating military sentiment is one of the capabilities that an outstanding military leader should possess.

In the past, “Mother” didn’t value this much; she was too engrossed in improving her own abilities and neglected this detail, which could have been done better but wasn’t a big deal if ignored.

This time, she changed a bit. She organized this pessimistic art show, letting the originally iron-hearted soldiers be slightly moved, opening a small crack, and then quickly used the power of language to firmly consolidate the wavering military sentiment, raising it to the next level.

Humanity has completed a nearly 500-year-long arduous marathon, and the finish line is just ahead.

No one knows whether crossing the finish line will lead to an abyss or clear skies.

People will eventually tire, and the soldiers also need such a brief adjustment before regaining their last energy and continuing forward, standing firm in the final year.

“Mother” realized this and achieved it.

Like him, she became increasingly trustworthy.

Harrison Clark felt relieved.

There was just one thing that bothered him.

Why did my quotes always differ? They keep changing; sometimes there are typos, omissions, or missing words.

Others might not know, but he, as the creator of these quotes, felt deeply ashamed.

He thought that maybe in the future, the secret messages could be more detailed; he would write down all the quotes in a small notebook, and then say them at critical moments.

That way, the versions could be unified, and he, as a master, would not appear irresponsible or chaotic.

Mr. Clark didn’t notice that as he was lost in thought about how to take his quotes seriously, a pair of beautiful eyes from the darkness in the distance were casting a burning gaze through the crowd onto him.

The owner of the gaze was not Nora Camp at the center of the stage but Amelia Johnson.

As a postmodern artist dedicated to combining new technology with art, Amelia was an extremely strict perfectionist with herself.

Her pursuit of perfection was not limited to her works; she also cared about the feedback from every audience member.

Although it was impossible to personally inspect the condition of each audience member, with the help of quantum intelligence, some particularly unusual circumstances would be fed back to her in real-time.

She would investigate the reasons, communicate with the relevant audience member, and use the findings as a reference for subsequent improvements.

At this moment, a man named Harrison Clark’s name topped the list of key observers for abnormal attention.

She had seen displeasing audiences before but had never seen such a phenomenon.

Amelia thought this man was absolutely crazy.

At the beginning of the performance, this man had a slightly accelerated heartbeat and shed a few tears, but then he quickly became calm, highly inattentive, and very disrespectful towards her performance.

Clearly, another officer had reminded him, but he had become even more excessive and started going through other materials on the spot, not knowing what he was looking at.

Seeing her expanded conjecture about the Compound-Eyed Observer civilization, not only did this man show no signs of sadness, but he became even more outrageous. His submissive gaze was clearly annoying, making a face that said, “You’re annoying, I don’t want to see you.”

If this hadn’t happened in public, the artist Amelia would have wanted to rush to his face, put her hands on her hips, and ask him, “What on earth are you doing here today, are you here to sabotage the show on purpose?”

This man had the same name as the Master Harrison Clark from a thousand years ago and looked quite similar, but his temperament was worlds apart—a very low-quality person.

Feeling upset, Amelia even changed her usual habit of communicating with the audience immediately after the performance. When Nora Camp finished speaking and announced the end of the performance, Amelia simply exchanged a few polite words with her before hurriedly leaving.

She’ll ask the man about it if there’s a chance in the future.

No, it’s better not to see him. After all, he hadn’t watched her performance seriously, so there wouldn’t be much to talk about.

Meanwhile, Harrison Clark felt a bit regretful. He originally thought that taking advantage of the general’s special favor towards him, he could go to the front and chat with the artist to probe her thoughts and see on what basis she firmly believed that the Compound-Eyed Observer civilization had that scale.Unfortunately, his current military rank is still just a sergeant, and people move too fast for him to catch up in conversation.

Harrison Clark thought to himself: no rush, it’s just the beginning, there is still plenty of time, I’ll get chances in the future.

Harrison Clark looked at the clock. It was almost ten-thirty and he needed to hurry back to the dorm to study advanced civilizations from the 21st to the 31st centuries.

He had been busy like a dog all day since he came here and he still had no time to look through the historical records, which made him itch with anxiety.

Ding…

“Harrison Clark, come to my office. I’ve opened your permission, just follow the Al navigation and fly directly.”

As Harrison Clark just walked out of the stadium, Daniel Thompson behind him called out. This audio message popped up directly in his personal communication system.

General was so domineering that he didn’t even need his confirmation to play automatically.

Maybe this is the taste of privilege class.

Harrison Clark looked back and greeted Daniel Thompson, “Lion, what’s up?”

Daniel Thompson strode up angrily, “What the hell were you just doing? You were looking around the whole time and seemed absent-minded when the General was speaking. What, do you think looking sober while others are filled with hot-blooded passion makes you look cooler? Are ‘you the only one awake while everyone else is drunk?”‘

Harrison Clark: “Emmm…”

Lion, you must be from the dog family. You sat so far in front of me and still knew what I was up to.

Also, since you knew I was daydreaming, doesn’t that prove you were slacking too?

How dare you criticize me?

“Don’t space out, come with me to the political education room. You don’t need special coaching for your Galaxy Equipment operation, but I have to give you a good lecture on history, educate your ideas, and make you, little bastard, understand why our ancestors shed their blood. Ah, it’s all General’s fault for promoting you too early, your ideology is seriously flawed.”

Daniel Thompson grabbed Harrison Clark’s shoulder in one fell swoop, stopping his departure.

Harrison Clark got anxious, “Lion, how about we do this another day? I have something to do now and need to go first.”

He tried to break free, but this time Lion’s strength was quite daunting, tightly holding him in place.

Daniel Thompson glared further, “Screwyou, what could you possibly have to do? Stop making excuses.”

Harrison Clark sighed, “Ah, it’s all fate! Lion, I tried my best, really tried my best!”

Just as Daniel Thompson was puzzled, his communicator rang. It was a direct order from his superiors.

“Daniel Thompson, we just received a notice from the leader asking you to patrol the Jupiter Hydrogen Isotope Collection Station’s operation.” freewebnøvel.com

Daniel Thompson was startled, “Ah? Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

“Which station?”

Superior: “All of them.”

Daniel Thompson: “Hiss…”

Orders from superiors cannot be disobeyed, and besides, Daniel Thompson was once a very professional multifunctional technical soldier, so this order was reasonable and legitimate.

He glared at Harrison Clark again, “Let it go, I have important business this time, so I’ll let you off for now, but I’ll deal with you later.”

Watching Lion’s hurried departure from afar, Harrison Clark could only think of three words in his heart.

It’s fate!

I can’t stop you!

Harrison Clark shrugged his shoulders, picked up his multifunctional wristwatch, activated the Auxiliary Intelligence, and put on Drogon Armament.

However, this time he didn’t fly straight using the Medium Engine; instead, the Drogon Armament’s secondary anti-gravity engine accessed the artificial high-altitude smart navigation network completely covering the Earth’s surface and traced a long arc in the air.

Three minutes later, Harrison Clark landed on a platform at the central command center of the Black Bear Training Base.

Harrison Clark stepped forward, walking off the platform. The alloy door of Nora Camp’s office opened automatically.

She was standing inside with her back to Harrison Clark and hands folded, looking at the replay of the scene from the stadium just a moment ago, as if lost in thought.

Harrison Clark walked over and asked, “General Camp, what can I do for you?”

Without turning around, Nora Camp asked back, “What do you think of the performance just now?”

Harrison Clark subconsciously answered: “Big.”

“Hmm?”

Harrison Clark: “Majestic! Bold! Very creative, I think it is quite good.”

“Didn’t you feel desperate?”

Harrison Clark laughed, “What’s the point of feeling desperate? We have to fight anyway.”

Nora Camp answered lightly, “Not bad.”

After a brief silence, she said, “I’ve officially announced my Optimized Combination Pairing Selection Competition. You don’t need to click the confirmation button to participate, I’ve already entered your information.” Harrison Clark replied with a nod, “That’s nice.”

“Would you like to know how many people have signed up?”

Nora Camp suddenly laughed with an underlying meaning.