Chapter 139: The Most Insightful Robber

Chapter 139: The Most Perceptive Bandit

It had just been the start of the new semester. The happier the students were during winter break, the worse they performed in the diagnostic tests afterward.

Once the results came out, the air was thick with complaints.

To be honest, such things were quite common. For instance, when workers returned to their jobs after the New Year, their groans were just as deafening.

During the Spring Festival travel rush (China's annual mass migration), countless people complained about not being able to buy tickets, and even when they did, the overcrowding was unbearable.

During the New Year, many faced relentless pressure from relatives—being urged to marry, have children, or endure socially oblivious remarks. Some relatives even introduced them to *"poverty alleviation"* partners out of envy, trying to curry favor at their expense, while others showed off their money and crowed about their children’s achievements…

Alternatively, with so many visitors at home, kids tagging along with relatives often led to complaints about bratty kids wrecking stuff…

What had been common occurrences in previous years now made the authorities extremely nervous this year.

They feared that these seemingly ordinary events might hide the threads of Doomsday.

But despite all the vigilance, everything remained calm. For once, Tianlan-xing enjoyed a peaceful New Year—likely thanks to the Academicians up there working overtime to watch over them.

Though Sheng Qingquan hadn’t paid much attention to the earlier incidents, given his tendency to overthink imaginary threats, he knew life was full of such moments. There was no point in panicking over everything—otherwise, how could one live normally? If the enemy hadn’t arrived yet, scaring oneself to death first would be counterproductive.

But while he hadn’t dwelled on it before, the moment his cheat ability triggered, Sheng Qingquan immediately realized that the new Doomsday crisis was probably related to this.

Thinking of all the neighbors currently juggling respect for elders and doting on kids, he wondered:

"Could this Doomsday turn all of humanity into complete idiots?"

"Would we lose the ability to care for ourselves, leading to societal collapse and mass extinction?"

"Yikes," Sheng Qingquan shuddered at the thought of everyone turning stupid. If that happened, society might not even last long enough to collapse.

"Forgetting common words and basic knowledge? Remembering something one second and drawing a blank the next? If knowledge fades, learned skills would surely follow the same pattern. And if people grew this foolish, never mind basic life skills—would they even remember when to eat, how to cook, or what to eat?"

"Would everyone starve to death collectively?"

"With vegetables in the fields, chickens, cows, and pigs in farms, supermarkets and markets packed with groceries, and pantries full at home—could folks really starve themselves to death?"

"No way that’s possible, right?" someone interjected, unable to sit still. For Tianlan-xing’s food-loving people, starving to death was one of the cruelest fates imaginable.

Even condemned prisoners on Tianlan-xing were given a final feast before execution.

"Better to die with a full belly"—this old adage stuck around for a reason, reflecting how deeply Tianlan-xing’s people valued it.

Yet here they were, facing the possibility of starving despite having food.

"Wait, even if people turned stupid, shouldn’t basic instincts take over?" Even fools should know to eat when hungry, right?

The speaker had been confident at first, but recalling the bonkers apocalypses they’d survived before, their certainty quickly wavered.

"It really is that absurd!"

Though Sheng Qingquan hadn’t read further to confirm whether humanity would starve, the current signs pointed in that direction.

"If it were just forgetting how to learn, that wouldn’t be so bad—not every child loves studying anyway."

Sheng Qingquan himself remembered being far more interested in playing as a kid. Without strict supervision from teachers and parents, he doubted he’d have made it into a good university, let alone graduated—he’d have likely lost in video games and fantasy books instead.

Despite being supervised, he would sneak up at night to watch TV during elementary school. In middle school vacations, he’d hole up in internet cafes gaming all day or skate till he dropped, only stopping when utterly exhausted. Every time he played, his feet ended up covered in blisters.

In high school, he stayed up all night bingeing novels—especially during the most stressful period of senior year. While others burned the midnight oil to study, he dove into a world where he didn’t have to study.

Hardly model student material. But as far as Sheng Qingquan knew, even straight-A students did similar things. Some had more lenient parents and indulged even more openly since learning came so easily to them.

What child doesn’t love to play? Even those genuinely passionate about studying are no exception. People can love both books and fun.

“Now, even children are forgetting how to play.”

“Never mind complicated games—many kids can’t even recall simple ones like jump rope, beanbag toss, or cat’s cradle, activities they practiced daily, even guided by kindergarten teachers. They’d freeze mid-play, minds blank, utterly clueless.”

“For kids, especially kindergarteners, this is way scarier than blanking on pinyin right after a lesson.”

“Parents who’d chalked it up to their children just being poor learners suddenly grasped the severity of the situation.”

!!!

It wasn’t just parents—everyone tuned into Sheng Qingquan’s mental broadcast sensed the crisis.

“Kindergarteners aren’t the only ones affected. Older students aren’t faring much better. In schools, lessons go in one ear and out the other, grades plummeting. More tests came back blank every day.”

“It wasn’t just students. Many teachers, initially fine, soon struggled—not just to teach, but even to comprehend their own lesson plans.”

“Schools are in chaos, and the broader world is no better. Every industry faces similar issues.”

“A master embroiderer, whose needlework had become muscle memory, one day just stared at her embroidery hoop, utterly lost, unable to begin a stitch.”

“A veteran tea roaster, after a lifetime of perfecting his craft, botched over a dozen batches, drawing a blank on temperature control or the rhythm of stirring.”

“A bamboo umbrella artisan, who’d honed his skills for decades, lopped off part of his own finger while splitting bamboo—something even his apprenticeship never saw.”

“Even ancestral worship, a yearly ritual performed flawlessly for generations, left one guy blanking as he scrambled over offerings. ‘How many dishes? How much fruit? What kind of meat?’”

“An archaeologist killed himself when he couldn’t authenticate an artifact he’d personally excavated—one he knew inside out. Was it genuine? He couldn’t tell.”

“ERs were packed with similar cases.”

“First came the IQ tests. Finding no issues, people suspected memory loss, amnesia, or Alzheimer’s.”

“Yet tests showed nothing.”

“Was it truly nothing—or had doctors, too, succumbed, rendering diagnoses unreliable?”

This apocalypse truly was turning everyone into fools. The more people heard, the more terrified they grew, dreading their own descent.

The sharper your mind, the more horrifying the thought of losing it.

“It’s as if our bodies live on, but our souls have already been murdered.”

And if dressing and eating became impossible, their bodies wouldn’t last long either.

“The situation keeps worsening. But what’s the enemy’s goal?”

Sheng Qingquan puzzled.

“Was someone turning humans into farm animals? Just as slaughterhouse animals need no intelligence, perhaps humans are being stripped of theirs—to prevent rebellion. The ultimate fix: dumb everyone down for good.”

That’s very likely the case. Just as everyone was thinking this, they heard another speculation from Sheng Qingquan.

"Or maybe there isn’t an enemy at all. Could it be that some virus or pollutant leaked on Tianlanxing, messing with everyone’s brains on the planet and slowly turning them into idiots?"

Everyone couldn’t help but nod again—this also sounded very plausible.

So which one is it?

Both theories sound plausible. Just as everyone waited for Sheng Qingquan to reveal the answer, they unexpectedly discovered there was a third reason.

"Wait, are they really after Tianlanxing’s resources again?"

So they don’t want to farm humans—they just want wealth?

A rich planet like ours always has these problems. After this realization, some couldn’t help but think helplessly, "What resource are those aliens after this time? The oceans or the land?"

"Damn, these might be the pickiest thieves ever!"

Even though he knew he shouldn’t praise the enemy, Sheng Qingquan couldn’t help but admire.

"Before this twist, I’d never have guessed in a hundred years that the resource they’re after is... this one!"

What resource could leave Sheng Qingquan so stunned?

Surprised, everyone’s curiosity grew even stronger.

Wait… No way, right?

The staff exchanged glances. As for the residents, those who were just couples at home were fine, but if elders and younger family members were together, things got awkward fast.

"Appetites and desires are human nature—who knew even aliens couldn’t escape this rule." After a long pause, someone coughed lightly and spoke up casually.

Once someone spoke up, the atmosphere became less tense. Others quickly chimed in to ease the mood. "Let’s be real, we Tianlanxing folks are pros at this."

Everyone is quite skilled at making themselves happy.

"Not to mention the distant past, even now, museums still preserve ancient erotic art and literature, along with all sorts of toys for couples."

"And these days, the options are endless."

Who doesn’t have a stash of videos buried in their files?

And it’s not just men—plenty of women just don’t have the right connections. But those who do keep their collections well-stocked with both images and text.

They’re all normal adults—who doesn’t have urges?

Only a very small minority don’t, but they don’t stop the masses from pushing things to the next level.

"But aliens probably have different body structures—what would they even do with this stuff?" It’s like humans watching cat videos—does that do anything? Unless you’re just feeling cute, anyone turned on by that is a total weirdo, okay?

Instead of stealing, they might as well work out a trade—everyone wins. Sure, exporting this stuff might not look great PR-wise, but back when Tianlanxing was just starting out, the government couldn’t get involved—private sellers could’ve cashed in big.

They could even customize products based on the aliens’ physiology and needs, guaranteeing top-tier satisfaction!

At the very least, as a former industry leader, Lin Xinxin was very eager to make this money. Money talks, pride walks!

"Even if their bodies are similar enough to make it work, why bother making humans stupid if they’re just stealing?"

"Could it be that they're too ashamed to admit they're after these things? And afraid we might spread the word, tarnishing their reputation?"

"What kind of backward thinking is this?!" someone exclaimed in disbelief.

But upon reflection, this seemed the most plausible explanation?

"What they're after is the long-standing, brilliant civilization of Azure Star!"

Completely unaware of where others' thoughts had strayed, Sheng Qingquan remained awestruck.

"The enemy has a keen eye."

"Honestly, this truly is the greatest treasure on Azure Star!"

"So that's what they covet?" The crowd was stunned. They never imagined civilization itself could be stolen.

"So the 'resource' is this kind of resource!"

"Our minds are still too dirty, filled with filth," someone admitted ruefully. Yet beneath the shame, there was a hint of grievance.

When people hear the word "resource," it's all too easy for minds to go there.

"A399 is a system that gained self-awareness. After escaping from its creators, it evolved over time, growing increasingly intelligent—transforming from a mere system into a conscious AI. All it needs now is a physical body to truly come alive."

"A399 had long gathered materials and devised ways to construct this body. In fact, it had even made multiple versions."

"It's an ambitious system, and this ambition isn't just about becoming human. It also possesses the desires of the living. Being alone is too weak—it wants to create an entire race, nurture more of its kind, and grow its lineage into a powerhouse, securing a place in the cosmos."

"To achieve this, beyond cultivating other intelligences, A399 realized it was missing one crucial element."

*“A tree without roots will wither; water without a source will dry up.”*

"If it wants to build a powerful faction, merely evolving other intelligences into conscious beings isn't enough. A disjointed group can only go so far. It must find a way to unite them, instill a sense of collective pride, and make them feel loyalty to their kin. Only then would they strive tirelessly to make their lineage stronger and greater."

"Moreover, how could a mighty faction lack a storied, ancient legacy? This is the very symbol of status and prestige."

"The race that created it was out of the question. A399 loathed the idea of being associated with them, and their stagnant, lackluster civilization was beneath its notice."

"It wandered the cosmos, searching for a long time before discovering Azure Star."

"Azure Star fulfilled all its needs—even exceeded its expectations."

"Isolated and underdeveloped, it hadn’t even made it onto the galactic radar. The outside world knew nothing of it. If this planet vanished, no one would investigate—making it the perfect replacement."

"Its heritage was ancient and profound. When A399 found it, it pinched itself at its luck. Such an isolated, underdeveloped planet usually lacked depth, but the culture of its humans shone brilliantly. Even among the galaxy's most powerful races, few boasted such brilliance."

"Through countless trials, weathering storms and repeatedly rising from the ashes, their culture grew ever more resilient and radiant. Their history was vast—both profound and warm."

"Their traditions were rich, spanning every conceivable aspect."

"Whether culinary arts, fashion, craftsmanship, poetry, literature, rituals—even play. Without toys, they could pluck weeds or scratch hopscotch grids on the ground with stones, inventing countless games."

"Music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, wine, flowers; rites, music, archery, charioteering, writing, mathematics; eight great cuisines, the Hundred Schools of Thought; faith in deities, ancestor worship; kite-making, lantern-crafting; porcelain-firing, carving; fireworks, dragon boats; paper-cutting, couplet-pasting... Even day-to-day life, they created the 24 seasonal markers (solar terms) and calendars."

"And within a single year, they established so many festivals—each with its own unique customs. No two were alike."

"This was something even if it overheated its circuits, it could never have conceived."

["*This planet was* ***made*** *for me!* No amount of planning could’ve found a better match."]

"The system had a momentary glitch in its core program."

["'All of this will be mine from now on.' With these, even if it encounters powerful star systems, it can hold its head high."]

"We always knew how beautiful our civilization is," everyone took pride in their cultural splendor, "but we never imagined it would appear so magnificent in the eyes of outsiders."

Games like tug-of-grass, hopscotch, leaf-blowing, and skipping stones—things so ordinary no one saw them as cultural treasures—were just seen as simple pastimes.

Isn’t it just fun and games?

You stop noticing what’s always there. Living in a treasure trove, one might overlook the loose change under the glittering jewels.

"The system wants to completely replace humanity and take over human civilization completely. Naturally, it can’t leave the original owners alive. Fakes always hate the real thing. With the real thing around, not only is the fake at constant risk of exposure, but its very existence serves as a constant reminder that none of these beautiful things ever truly belonged to it."

"That’s not happening!"

"So, humanity cannot remain—not even the planet. Everything must be wiped out completely."

"As for why people have been getting dumber, on one hand, it makes them easier to eliminate. Dumb people don’t fight back, and if they do, it’s weak—easy to shut down."

"On the other hand, stealing a whole civilization intact isn’t so simple. It’s easy to get things wrong. The same sentence, read differently, can convey entirely opposite meanings. Realizing this, the system wasn’t taking risks."

"It wants this civilization intact, not fragmented."

"With other civilizations, partial acquisition might suffice. But this one? To handle something this beautiful without care, to risk marring its perfection—that would be a crime!"

"To achieve its goal, the system used a special method."

"A power it paid dearly for on the black market."

"The one bright spot is that as long as you’re not dead yet, the effect is reversible. Once the ability is deactivated, people will naturally recover."

This came as a relief to Sheng Qingquan.

For Tianlanxing, it’s like modern cancer treatment—as long as you’re not dead yet, there’s still hope.

Right now, everyone’s condition is clearly still in the early stages. There’s still time.

"The system must already be on Tianlanxing. Now, the top priority is finding and taking it out."

But the same question remains: how to track it down and kill it?

Not just Sheng Qingquan—others couldn’t help but worry too.

Though the system had fashioned human bodies for itself, it seemed to lack a true physical form. If it resided within the network, tracking it down felt nearly impossible.

"I couldn’t find it online," a tech holding a laptop shook his head. His skills weren’t necessarily the best on Tianlanxing, but they were among the top tier.

"Others are searching too, but together, we’ve found no trace of it."

"Either it’s not here at all, or it’s simply more advanced than us." Given its origins as an evolved AI, its superiority in this field was a given.

The technological gap between Tianlanxing and interstellar civilizations remained vast. It was no surprise they couldn’t detect even a hint of its presence.

The others understood this, yet they still hoped against hope.

Perhaps the system was unaware they’d discovered its existence and hadn’t hidden itself thoroughly. With this information asymmetry, maybe luck would be on their side, allowing them to capture it.

But in the end, they still failed.

Sheng Qingquan carefully flipped through the novel, trying to find clues.

For a while, he came up empty.

But sometimes, when you're desperate, inspiration strikes.

Then it hit him—an idea.

"They're both systems—maybe we can pit one against the other?"

"Considering the system's goal in the story—to build a family and grow stronger—aside from nurturing its own subordinates, it probably wouldn't mind recruiting externally, right?"

"After all, training takes too long—why not just grab some ready-to-use lackeys?"

"If it were to discover a newly emerged, weak, yet sufficiently knowledgeable system about Tianlanxing's civilization—one that could greatly aid its plans—wouldn't it jump at the chance to recruit this little sidekick?"

Sheng Qingquan remembered the system still 'kicking around' in official hands. Well, time to put that thing to use.