If it had been other cult leaders saying that, it would be nothing more than coaxing people to their deaths.

Those people shout noble slogans, holding knives in their hands, stabbing always into others' chests.

But this person is different.

He really even risked his own life.

Before he knew about Jeming's existence, if he wanted to run, with his mastery over this Alternate Space, those three from the Commander Association couldn't catch him at all.

But he didn't!

To personally acquire the final data, he stood here, within this Alternate Space he created with his own hands.

The Soul has already begun to fuse strangely, consciousness irreversibly fading away.

And his purpose is not for power and wealth, nor for any worldly "interests".

He truly believes everything he does is so humanity can escape the shadows brought by the strange occurrences.

Jeming lowered his head, looking at the black notebook in his hand, storing it into his Inner Grotto Heaven.

"Stored away?" the Professor asked.

"Stored away." Jeming nodded.

The self-satisfied expression on the Professor's blood-red face gradually faded, replaced by an expression mixed with relief and regret.

"The technology is not yet perfected." His voice started to sink again, "My consciousness can't hold out much longer. Can you handle me?"

He asked calmly, as if inquiring about the weather, as if asking whether the audience had understood his lecture.

Jeming nodded lightly.

But Jeming didn't act immediately.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, looking at the Professor, starting to talk about other matters.

"Why did the foundation structure of your Fusion technology, in the third layer's Energy circuit, have to branch at the node? Wouldn't it be more efficient to go directly through the main path?"

The Professor paused for a moment.

Then he laughed.

It was a heartfelt smile, the kind of joyous smile a researcher would have when recognized by peers.

"You think I didn't try it?" His voice regained Vitality, "I tried it at least two hundred times. Going directly through the main path, the strange forces would breach the human host's consciousness defense line within three seconds. Branching can disperse the impact to seven different nodes, each bearing a part, human will's stress limit can increase at least fourfold."

"Then what about the feedback after the seventh node? How does the Energy reintegrate after branching?"

"That's the crux, feedback is the biggest challenge. I use layered feedback. People with strong will use high-layer feedback, those with weak will use low-layer feedback. But the Energy loss of low-layer feedback is too great, exceeding forty percent, directly affecting the combat power of the fusion body. I've been searching for optimization plans, but there's not enough time..."

The two stood like this in the core hall of the Alternate Space, overhead is the residual of the light cluster that had fused most of the Professor's power, beneath are the cracks and fragments on the gray surface.

They were like two peers in a university lab, standing before a blackboard discussing a technical challenge, tone serious, focused, and even with the kind of thrilling excitement only found in academic debates.

Jeming knew what he was doing.

He was buying time, hoping the Professor could exist a little longer as a "human".

As Vito Rain, a researcher, a scholar, a person reaching the forefront in the Plane's strange research field, exist a little longer.

In the distance, the explosion sounds grew nearer.

The Chairman and the two supports were rushing back quickly from the direction they were teleported away.

With Disaster Level Spiritualists letting loose, these only Disaster Level stairwell strangeness cannot block them at all.

They moved at a great speed, less than a kilometer from the core hall.

The Professor raised his head, looking in that direction.

His expression remained indifferent, yet something rapidly dissipated from those blood-red eyes.

"Time's up." he said.

His voice began to deform, carrying a resonance unfit for human beings.

The blood-red human shape suddenly exploded.

The Blood Net forming his body expanded outward from the core, within milliseconds covering every corner of the hall.

On the ceiling, walls, floor, in the air...

The dense blood-colored web strands emerged from the void, wrapping around Jeming at the central position.

The "Blood Net" initiated an attack.

Countless strands tightened simultaneously, like a garrote made of countless tiny blades, attempting to strangle Jeming.

The cutting power of those strands was enough to turn steel into powder, enough to shred ordinary strangeness into pieces.

Jeming was wrapped in a thick Blood Net, those strands embedded into his clothes, emitting a piercing sound of metal rubbing against metal.

But Jeming seemed unaffected.

He looked down at the strand wrapped around his right hand, casually tugged it, the strand easily broken like ordinary spider silk.

"Already at your limit…"

Jeming raised his head, looking at the Blood Net gathering around the hall.

"Since we are in another space…" Jeming's voice was not loud, but each word was clear as if carved into glass, "then I can exert a bit more strength."

He clenched his right fist like an ordinary person making a fist, fingers closing tightly.

Then, he stepped forward.

The surrounding Blood Net tried to impede his action but couldn't do so.

As the foot touched the ground, the gray surface exploded.

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