Peter was pacing back and forth in his private room...

In truth, after he had confessed the entire situation, he had been terrified. He was half-expecting a bullet to suddenly come flying through the door to blow his skull open, or for a squad of medical researchers to drag him away for vivisection.

However, his current mood was completely devoid of apprehension. Instead, it was... ecstatic!

This dramatic shift in mindset was all due to a beautifully bound red booklet sitting on his desk. The cover bore a few bold words:

Letter of Appointment: Extraterrestrial Diplomat!

Holy crap! Peter had actually been appointed as an official diplomatic envoy!

It was an unbelievable, unexpected surprise!

Upon receiving the appointment, Peter had jumped out of his seat in pure astonishment. Adrenaline surged through his veins, flushing his face a bright, vibrant red.

The transition from sheer surprise, to absolute delight, to bursting into manic laughter took exactly three seconds. He picked up the red booklet and kissed it over and over again.

The feeling at this moment was indescribable. It was like a broke college student winning the multi-million-dollar lottery jackpot. It could be summed up in one word: Awesome!

"Peter, congratulations! To be able to officially represent the Federation and engage in dialogue with an alien civilization... what an absolute honor!" Peter mumbled to himself, completely lost in his own fantasy, praising himself endlessly.

Unfortunately, this immense joy couldn't be shared with anyone else; it was a highly classified mission. Peter wasn't foolish enough to run around telling people about the alien in his head anyway, not even his closest friends.

After a long while, he patted his wildly beating heart to calm himself down, and then made a melodramatic, theatrical vow to the empty room to complete his mission perfectly.

That alien parasite can't even physically overpower me, so it can't be that tough. I can totally outsmart it, Peter thought casually. He accepted the appointment without hesitation, signed his name on the designated dotted line, and handed the duplicate copy back to the guards outside.

This appointment letter not only granted him sweeping new privileges but also outlined his corresponding obligations and responsibilities.

In general, the core terms and conditions of the agreement included the following:

First, the Federation would accept the "alien memory entity" with a magnanimous and diplomatic attitude, provided that it was willing to integrate into human society in a friendly, cooperative manner.

This required Peter to act as the "Extraterrestrial Diplomat" to carry out the specific, day-to-day communication tasks. He was fully responsible for managing the entity, and Federation Security Director Austin was designated as his direct supervisor.

There was simply no other way around it; only Peter could do this job. After all, the alien memory was locked inside his own skull, meaning no one else could communicate with it directly.

Second, the Federation government would keep Peter's "split personality" situation strictly classified and would absolutely not investigate whether he was the true inventor of the room-temperature superconductor.

Furthermore... if Peter could manage to extract any new research papers or technological blueprints from the alien memory, that would be considered a massive achievement for humanity, and the official authorship of those papers would still be credited to "Peter"! The government guaranteed absolute confidentiality on the matter!

This was the most crucial detail, as it meant Peter could continue to live his life as a celebrated "Great Scientist"!

This specific clause hit Peter right where it mattered most. Over the past few days, he had genuinely come to love the perks of being a Great Scientist. Whether he was showing off or trying to pick up women, people looked at him with profound awe and respect.

In this new society, men with intellect and scientific knowledge were undeniably the most attractive; it reflected the fundamental shift in the core values of the Federation. The social status of a Great Scientist was equivalent to being a billionaire back on Earth!

Of course, it wasn't strictly about showing off and picking up girls. During these past few days, Peter had truly felt the positive, uplifting, and united atmosphere deeply rooted within the Federation. Even though he was a lazy slacker who cursed a lot, his fundamental moral compass was still relatively normal. He was genuinely happy to see humanity grow stronger and enjoyed the positive momentum.

But deep down, he had been filled with intense anxiety. After all, he lacked any real scientific skills or expertise. If he had to keep acting like a fraud, he would eventually be exposed... and cramming physics textbooks at the last minute wouldn't save him. A true Great Scientist couldn't be faked overnight; it required immense talent, high intellect, and decades of hard work.

But things were completely different now! He had absolutely nothing to worry about!

With a literal alien acting as his silent backer, he would have a steady, endless stream of revolutionary research papers to publish. And with the Federation government providing the ultimate cover-up, no one would ever dare to doubt him. His social status would skyrocket, and he might even become the brightest, most legendary star in the scientific community!

Awesome! Just thinking about it was awesome!

Peter licked his lips, eager to start squeezing the alien data out of his brain!

Naturally, there were specific rules and regulations attached to the appointment letter, including the strict requirement to submit regular progress reports and certain restrictions on his personal freedom.

But Peter was originally a hardcore homebody who preferred to stay in his dorm all day anyway, so a few travel restrictions were absolutely nothing compared to the massive "benefits" he was receiving. Even if a small security drone had to follow him whenever he stepped outside, it wasn't a big deal. Inside his own quarters, he was completely free.

"@&%!" Peter roared excitedly, pacing back and forth in his room and shouting at the ceiling.

"Black! Did you see that?! Hurry up and hand over the advanced technology you possess!" Peter shouted impatiently. "I know you must have seen the contract! Don't forget, we share the same visual cortex!"

"...Our civilization has officially accepted you!"

He aggressively tried to communicate with the dark entity in his mind using his own unique, abrasive style.

"Get out here right now!"

...

Several hours passed.

"Damn it! If you don't come out right now, I'm going to curse you out a hundred times over!"

Peter rambled on and on, growing increasingly frustrated. Eventually, he lost his patience entirely and reverted to his true nature. He firmly believed that aggressive cursing was the most effective form of communication.

Deep inside Peter's mind, Black was utterly speechless. How could a civilization appoint such a profoundly stupid diplomat? The alien didn't even know what to say. How could this inferior race be so overwhelmingly shameless?

Was 'shamelessness' the primary evolutionary trait of human civilization?

They clearly desperately needed the alien's technological knowledge, yet they acted as if it were their inherent right to demand it. And when they didn't get it immediately, they just started throwing vulgar tantrums... What kind of primitive behavior was this?

If Black had a physical body, it would have face-palmed hours ago. But since Peter controlled the host body, Black couldn't execute that newly observed human gesture.

"How incredibly stupid! Is this the so-called 'diplomat' you humans came up with?" Black couldn't take it anymore and finally broke its silence to complain. Although it had studied human behavior extensively over the past year, it still couldn't out-argue the native, foul-mouthed Peter.

Perhaps heavily influenced by Peter's own lazy biology, Black had gradually developed a strong affinity for the human physiological need to "sleep." Since it was trapped in the brain with nothing to do, it usually just slept.

It initially hadn't wanted to pay any attention to the ranting, but hearing Peter's increasingly aggressive shouting, it could only reply irritably, "Why in the universe should I serve a lowly, inferior race like yours?"

"Why should you?! Because I'm the one feeding and clothing you, you parasite! That's why!" Peter cursed back out loud. This entity was just a digitized memory file squatting inside his own brain; why wouldn't it serve him? It was as if his own right hand had suddenly gone rogue and rebelled against him...

"Inferior race? If you're so capable, then get the hell out of this 'inferior' brain altogether!" Peter mocked. He was quite talented at insulting people; he could always come up with highly creative, infuriating angles of attack.

Black simply sneered coldly in his mind and couldn't be bothered to respond further.

Finally, Peter grew tired of yelling and flopped face-down onto his bed.

It seems this diplomatic mission isn't going to be as simple as I thought!

Although the alien was essentially just a digital memory archive, that archive had formed a highly advanced, distinct personality, and Peter had absolutely no way to force it to comply. The two entities were technically sharing one body, but they were entirely divided and opposed to one another.

If Peter was the only one reaping the massive social and political benefits of this arrangement, why would the alien ever willingly help him?