Chapter 133: Civilization Devouring

Humans?

Roger suppressed a creeping sense of revulsion and stared hard at the group of grotesquely mutated tadpoles, yet he could find not a single shred of similarity between them and humankind.

Massive heads, thrashing tails, and skin pitted and scarred from high-speed tearing and regeneration—they looked like glorified, oversized spermatozoa.

Although a few of them had indeed sprouted limbs and barely resembled human figures, it was still a far stretch to draw any real connection.

Roger asked, "What... exactly are they?"

Adonsa, resembling a child who had just dissected a stray cat and was eager to show it off, smiled as he elongated his palm into a tentacle, connected it to the carpet of flesh, and then retracted it.

Where the touch occurred, a bizarre incubation pod burst through the ground as if a seed had been sown.

A thick stem connected to a massive, translucent, spherical fishbowl-like incubation pod, within which orange nutrient fluid sloshed. A naked, curled-up body floated inside, as serene as an infant in its mother's womb.

The pupil at the center of Roger’s red eye constricted.

It was a "human" body, but unlike the native humans seen before, this creature possessed limbs, a torso, and a head, yet its joints protruded slightly, folding backward into bizarre, sharp spikes. Its skin resembled scale-like bone plates, and its head had mutated into a praying-mantis-like triangular shape. A pair of bulbous eyes, as large as lightbulbs, occupied more than half of its face, and its chewing-sucking mouthparts twitched slightly, as if masticating something.

Roger asked in astonishment, "Human? No, what—what on earth is it? Were the humans we saw earlier just disguises worn by these things?"

Adonsa let out a cold laugh. "What, have you forgotten our previous discussion?"

Roger paced unconsciously for a couple of steps and said, "About the definition of humanity? I remember, but different species cannot possibly evolve the same civilization. Yet judging from the city's steps, doors, and various living facilities, their civilization still follows a human pattern. How is this possible?"

Naturally, different species cannot possess the same aesthetic sensibilities and cultures. For instance, if cockroaches were to evolve into sentient beings, would they still care about human beauties?

Their standards for beauty would merely be supple antennae, oily black carapaces, and strong, powerful arthropods.

The fat and flesh of which humans were so proud would simply become criteria for evaluating food.

Such differences between species would manifest in every single aspect of daily life, too vast to ignore.

Yet these alien aberrations strictly lived according to human patterns, even willing to compromise themselves and forcibly adapt to human-sized facilities whose dimensions were clearly all wrong.

There was obviously a massive problem here.

Adonsa burst into laughter. "How is it not possible? When you play a video game, do you care if the character you are playing clips through walls? They are the humans of this planet, the sole intelligent species here. They have congenital flaws; their nervous systems are far too primitive to perform complex thought, let alone develop into a civilization. However, a bizarre psychic force is connected to their nerve centers, effectively providing them with an external second brain. Relying on this second brain, they are able to think, live, and develop, becoming the—'humans' of this planet."

Roger pondered, "A connected psychic force? Ah, of course. Only a powerful psion could deceive all of us and keep an entire race in the palm of their hand. As far as I know, psions are a formidable class even within the multiverse. The mind flayers, born as psions, once built a vast empire that spanned time and space. If a psion truly orchestrated all of this, its level is definitely above tier six. The question is, why would it do this?"

Adonsa remarked, "It is playing a game of house using the bodies of these bugs."

"A civilization simulation game?"

Roger repeated, then suddenly said in a deep voice, "If that really is the case, the answer can only be civilization devouring! Do you know about this? According to the observer theory revered by psions, individual minds can converge into a collective civilization, and a 'civilization' can be treated as a resource!"

Adonsa was certainly familiar with civilization devouring, for he had once nearly succeeded in devouring a civilization himself.

The history of a civilization represents the complete aggregate of social and natural behaviors of one or multiple races, progressing from ignorance and foolishness to humanistic awakening and finally the conquest of nature, precipitating immeasurable cultural shifts and sparks of thought.

Judging by the scale of the civilization, a tier-one civilization that has just begun to gaze out at the sea of stars—an existence spanning both space and time—if it could be converted into the interference variables required by a psion, a direct promotion to the sixth tier or even the seventh tier was entirely possible.

Roger quickly grew doubtful again, "No, civilization devouring is an extremely, extremely advanced method; at the very least, a tier-seven psion can barely use this method to supplement their own power. Using it here is like playing Chinese checkers with a quantum computer... The lives of these 'humans' can only be described as slightly better than primitives, inferior even to medieval peasants. What use is devouring such a low-level civilization?"

Adonsa gave a low chuckle. "Who said this is its game? It simply inherited a damaged server from somewhere, forcibly loaded a save file, and is waiting to usher in a perfect ending."

An ending? And a perfect one at that?

Roger muttered inwardly, unable to comprehend what Adonsa was saying. After all, his understanding of psions was superficial at best; the rumors he knew might be abundant, but certain things could only be understood by Adonsa, who had actually partaken in the act of civilization devouring.

While the two were speaking, the insect-human body within the incubation pod suffered some unknown stimulation and suddenly began to convulse violently. Layer by layer of bone-plate-like skin cracked, peeled off, and dissolved into flocculent matter within the nutrient fluid.

Then, the insect-human slowly melted away, leaving an empty husk floating as countless tiny, tadpole-like creatures frantically crashed and tore inside the husk, with a small fraction escaping from the ruptures in the skin.

The tadpoles devoured one another. The confined space within the husk allowed their battle to yield swift results, and three or four basketball-sized tadpoles tore through the entire husk, rapidly devouring the stragglers that had escaped earlier.

Those stragglers that broke away from the battlefield prematurely gained temporary safety, but they permanently lost any possibility of competition. Before those powerful peers who had survived countless bloodbaths, they were mere fish on a chopping block, utterly powerless to resist.

The remaining few tadpoles swiftly slaughtered and devoured each other, once again merging into a single, most powerful individual that ferociously slammed against the paper-thin membrane wall of the incubation pod.

Adonsa said with a hint of appreciation, "Look, what fascinating creatures. From the moment of their birth, they can only slaughter and evolve. Their hyperactive metabolism grants them unparalleled movement and evolutionary speed, but it also renders their lifespans excruciatingly brief. Only by constantly devouring and evolving can they prolong their insignificant lives."

Roger frowned and asked, "You still haven't explained clearly. What on earth are these tadpoles?"

Adonsa spread his hands. "A group of domesticated livestock that have been fine-tuned. You might find it hard to believe, but I merely activated a single switch in their genes, and they turned into these adorable little creatures."

As he spoke, Adonsa reached out and directly punctured the incubation pod, his five fingers transforming into sturdy iron claws that firmly gripped the slippery, oversized tadpole.

The tadpole, which had grown to the size of a cart wheel, struggled with a force far surpassing that of a large fish of equivalent volume. It viciously bared its sharp fangs, whipped around, and bit down on Adonsa's arm. Four or five rows of fine, dense fangs instantly shattered to pieces, robbing it of its chewing ability.

The tadpole remained completely oblivious, still struggling with all its might.

Adonsa sneered, "So stupid you don't even know how to submit?"

With a flick of his hand, the tadpole was hurled above the massive blood pool. A gigantic shadow shattered the slightly calm surface of the lake, its huge maw snapping open to swallow the tadpole entirely before plunging back into the depths.

The process of devouring and evolution throughout the entire lake had entered its final stage. A massive amount of nutrients and evolutionary resources had concentrated in the hands of a few select individuals. Several tadpoles, each as large as a fishing boat, hovered quietly beneath the water's surface, observing and waiting for an opportune moment to strike and kill their enemies.

Having evolved to this stage, even with their meager intelligence, they could sense that this opportunity was hard-earned and would no longer engage in reckless, indiscriminate slaughter as before.

However, time waits for no one. The entity that coded their genes desired only the final, perfectly birthed individual. No matter how these semi-finished products struggled, they could not escape this instinct for devouring deeply rooted in their genes.