I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World-Chapter 533 - 350: You Want Me to Die [Thanks to Alliance Leader Shi Han Ye Ah!]

Chapter 533: Chapter 350: You Want Me to Die [Thanks to Alliance Leader Shi Han Ye Ah!]

Hearing that Harrison Clark had come to see him in person, Quincy Campbell was very excited.

As a witness to the fierce battle between Harrison Clark and Needham Brown, although Quincy Campbell failed to make a breakthrough in his project, the impact on him was profound. This allowed him to emerge from his struggles after a hundred years, and quickly summarize his improved algorithm based on his analysis of high-frequency short sounds. As soon as he joined the Stable Energy Field Development Institute, he became the leader of an important project team.

If his project is successful, the quasi-curvature space membrane on the surface of human ships and individual equipment could be made thinner, with higher energy utilization.

Harrison Clark waited outside for less than five minutes before Quincy Campbell came out on a flat-style Fast Shuttle.

The white-haired old man riding on the shuttle looked a bit like an ancient swordsman traveling on his sword.

“General, how come…”

Thud!

The modern-day swordsman fell to the ground.

Compared to the disrespectful Mr. Connor, Quincy Campbell was much more courteous. As soon as they met, he clumsily fell from the shuttle, giving Harrison Clark a deep bow.

“Dr. Campbell, please, please!”

Harrison Clark joked and quickly helped him up.

Quincy Campbell’s face flushed slightly, standing up while trying to brush off his clothes out of habit.

In fact, the floors inside the Summit Fortress had been dust-free for a long time, and lying on the ground wouldn’t make clothes dirty.

Quincy Campbell said with an awkward smile, “I’m sorry.”

Harrison Clark waved his hand, “No, no.”

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“What can I do for you, General?”

Not surprisingly for an academic, Quincy Campbell didn’t engage in small talk and quickly got to the point.

Harrison Clark nodded, “It’s something important.”

Quincy Campbell: “Please tell me, General. I will spare no effort if I can help.”

“Well, it’s not that serious. Dr. Campbell, do you remember when I visited you at Lost City No. 1? We had a chat.”

“Of course, I remember!” Quincy Campbell became embarrassed again, “It was my mistake not to recognize your greatness, General. I apologize for my bad attitude.”

As he tried to bow again, Harrison Clark stopped him, “No, no, no, it’s not necessary. A scholar should have such an unyielding spirit of inquiry.”

“I’m not worthy of such praise.”

Slowly, Harrison Clark’s expression turned serious, “Actually, I didn’t come to chat with you casually. I have some thoughts on your previous research and would like to discuss them with you.”

At first excited, Quincy Campbell’s expression rapidly changed, “Thank you for your concern, but I have really moved on. I won’t fall into it again easily. I have… truly given it up.”

While speaking, the fleeting look of loss on his face was quickly replaced by resolve, “I am satisfied with my current self, and my current project is important. Yes, very important.”

Harrison Clark looked at the white-haired, wrinkled old man who was slightly younger than Bernal Connor at “only” one hundred and sixty years old, and felt a mixture of emotions.

He said, “You misunderstood. I’m not here to test you. I came because I agree with your views.”

Quincy Campbell was startled, “Ah? Really?”

“Of course. Since the generation of particle-related substances is related to sound, the activation of such substances should also be related to sound. That’s what I think.”

Quincy Campbell: “Hiss! So you really know something. Thank you, General!” “What are you thanking me for?”

Quincy Campbell suddenly became very excited, “You don’t know, General. When I first proposed this theory, many people supported me and believed it to be the best means of activating particle-related substances. Several project leaders even worked with me to develop it.”

Harrison Clark raised his eyebrows, “Isn’t that good?”

But Quincy Campbell’s tone quickly grew somber, “It’s just… it’s been a hundred years, and my colleagues have either died or given up.”

“My students and assistants have also given up one after another, or died of exhaustion in the lab. Now in this world, I am the only one who agrees with my point of view. Now with you, there are two.”

As he spoke, his voice quivered more and more, “I… I’m still not willing to accept it. It’s just that I’m too incompetent. I couldn’t succeed. I couldn’t prove myself, and I couldn’t find the answer.”

“I failed those who devoted their lives to this project because they believed in me, and those colleagues who could have achieved more in other fields but were held back by me for decades! I… I’m incompetent!”

As he continued talking, the elderly Campbell couldn’t help but sob.

He might have said he had let go, and his actions suggested that he had indeed completely given up. But that didn’t mean he had accepted it. He had simply learned to face reality.

That was all there was to it.

Harrison Clark wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

It wasn’t that Campbell’s will was weak, leading him to fall into the Lost City and sink so deep.

He was actually the most tenacious person in his circle.

But it was precisely because of his tenacity that he had fallen from a leading project manager to a “waste” in the Lost City.

He had a reason not to give up.

Perhaps, among the 800 million Lost Ones forcefully saved by Harrison Clark, each had a story similar to Quincy Campbell’s.