Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [338]

Experiments?

Chen Lin was already puzzled by the fact that the two judges from the Ten Lords Commission had come to the embassy asking him for corpses. He had originally planned to visit Qingque to ask a few questions anyway, so he figured he might as well take the opportunity to see what they wanted the bodies for.

It was just a convenient detour. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded even if they refused to answer his questions. The real reason he got Phantylia to put on this little act with him was simply because he found Tail's attitude irritating.

If you're going to refuse, just refuse properly! Do you have to be so blunt about it?

Do you think us Fourth Calamity players have no shame?

Besides, anyone with a bit of sense could tell that Chen Lin's actions were a way of settling the score on the spot. Now that things were even, it would help prevent unnecessary suspicion in the future.

Unexpectedly, Tail was the first to crack under the pressure and backed down. And in doing so, it dropped a bombshell that left all three of them utterly stunned.

You’re just a Heliobus Fragment—not a craftsman, not a researcher—what kind of experiment could you possibly be conducting?

"You two, what are you staring at me for? I told you, it's for an experiment!"

Tail floated back and forth in the air, clearly annoyed.

Huohuo hesitated for a few seconds before carefully poking Tail's body and asking hesitantly, "Tail’s... experiment? That doesn't sound like a good thing."

"Hiss—watch your mouth, you little thing! Of course it's a good thing!"

"A good thing?"

"That's right! I've been stuck with you for decades now—constantly listening to your whining, your sniveling, your cowardly nonsense. Even if you aren't sick of it, I sure as hell am! What's wrong with finding a new host?"

"Huh?! Really?" Huohuo’s face lit up with excitement.

Tail grinned, and with practiced ease, shattered her hopes in an instant.

"Hahaha, of course not! I was messing with you, you little idiot. You think you can get rid of me that easily? Dream on!"

"Ugh..."

Hanya, having seen this play out countless times before, let out a sigh. "Tail, just explain properly."

Tail, still amused by teasing Huohuo, fell silent for a few seconds. It really didn’t want to explain why it needed those corpses—especially not to some outsider it didn't even like.

But the situation wasn't in its favor. If it refused to explain, who knew what that chatterbox of a judge might pull?

"It's just a small hypothesis," Tail grumbled. "I simply think these corpses are weird, so I want to test them myself—to see if they're actually alive."

"Eek...!"

Huohuo's face instantly turned pale. She had always been terrified of ghosts.

It had taken her years of working in the Ten Lords Commission's headquarters to finally grow somewhat accustomed to the eerie atmosphere. But even now, in certain places where the yin energy was particularly strong, she would still feel a chill run down her spine—always afraid that some hideous ghost would suddenly lunge at her from the darkness and drag her away...

The moment she heard the words living corpse, a flood of terrifying images rushed through her mind. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor.

Phantylia’s eyes flickered with curiosity. She stared at Tail, eager to hear its explanation—what exactly did it mean by a "living" corpse?

"Heliobi thrives on living beings. From them, we can obtain what we desire—their emotions, their unpredictable actions, even their thoughts."

Tail explained begrudgingly, glancing at Huohuo trembling beside it. The sight only irritated it further. With an exasperated glare, it continued, "Heliobi are simple creatures—we don’t play mind games like you lot. You even separate life into categories like organic and inorganic… but I have to admit, it makes sense. The emotions of robots are hollow and insubstantial—completely unpalatable to us."

Chen Lin propped up his face with one hand and smirked. "But the Tamzians are gradually moving away from the concept of organic life. They exist in between. Doesn’t that bother you, Tail?"

"Tch."

Tail scoffed dismissively. "Tch, you actually got it right. In theory, yeah, I should hate them. I don’t want to deal with that kind of thing either. But a while ago, I saw a report from Luofu—apparently, the flesh of these people contains a large amount of inorganic life. And when the inorganic part dies, their organic bodies die too. Heh... Doesn’t that mean they’re no longer the people they once were, yet they can still think and act? Sounds an awful lot like us, doesn’t it?"

There was an old belief in the Xianzhou that Heliobi could possess others. Initially, Heliobi would parasitize a host, forming a mutually beneficial relationship. The Heliobus would gain a steady supply of spiritual nourishment to grow stronger, while the host would, in turn, receive certain enhancements as the Heliobus developed.

Unfortunately, organic intelligent beings often struggled to suppress their desires. Their greed knew no bounds, and most Heliobi were more than happy to see their hosts grow dependent on them—after all, it was nothing but beneficial for the Heliobi.

As a result, countless Xianzhou people in the past had been taken over by Heliobi, slowly losing themselves in their unchecked desires. They became mere playthings in the hands of the Heliobi—yet they never even realized it.

The relationship between the Tamzians and nanomachines was different from that of the Xianzhou and Heliobi, but the outcome was eerily similar.

Nobody knew that they were already dead. At first, they acted according to their own thoughts and decisions, but little by little, their actions became dictated by an external force.

Even within the Interastral Peace Corporation, there were employees who had been unknowingly infected by nanomachines. Though parts of their bodies had transformed into mechanical remnants, their thoughts remained independent—for the most part. Occasionally, they would experience an inexplicable urge to carry out certain actions. The problem was… those actions always turned out to be highly destructive.

So really, saying that the Tamzians had been overtaken by nanomachines wasn’t that far-fetched...

From a results-oriented perspective, it made perfect sense.

"So what?"

Chen Lin found Tail’s restless floating a bit distracting, so he grabbed it and placed it on the table.

As a Heliobus, Tail’s texture was surprisingly soft—almost like cotton candy. It was an oddly pleasant sensation.

Tail was internally fuming about being touched without permission, but it didn’t lash out. Because in that brief moment of contact, an overwhelming surge of blank, untainted emotions flooded into it—like an intoxicating addiction, filling it to the brim.

Having spent quite a while in Belobog, Tail knew this stuff was called psionic energy. Normally, it found the psionic energy of most people too impure to even bother with, but this—this was different.

Whoa! Damn! This kid actually tastes amazing!

Tail’s foul mood lifted slightly, and its bias against Chen Lin decreased—by, say, one-billionth.

"So what? So I wanna see why the hell this thing thinks it can go against us!"

Tail grit its teeth. "Do you know how disgusting those damned robot emotions taste? It’s like chewing on dirt!"

"...And that’s your reason?"

"Tch!"

Tail sneered. "What, you expected something nobler? If this thing is really like they say—if both people and animals across entire planets are slowly turning into nothing but hunks of metal—then what happens to us Heliobus? Are we supposed to just sit around and die with the rest of you?"

It slammed its tail on the table and growled, "Look, kid—I might be a prisoner right now, and the Ten Lords Commission is keeping a close eye on me, sure. But if something actually threatens my survival? You can bet your ass I won’t go down without a fight!"

Without humans to parasitize, Heliobus could still latch onto other living creatures. But if all organic life eventually became inorganic, then the very existence of the Heliobus would be in jeopardy.

Sure, Heliobus could survive for thousands—maybe even tens of thousands of years—without feeding. But there had to be some way forward, right?

If you cut off all my paths to survival, then I’d have to be insane not to be pissed.

Tail rolled its eyes and huffed. "Giving me a few corpses won’t kill you. I’ll return them when I’m done playing around. I hate owing people favors, so whatever I find out, I’ll tell you. Don’t expect me to owe you anything."

Chen Lin smiled faintly. "That’s fine. You don’t have to pay me back. It’s like how the Architects owes the corporation a debt—I never paid that back either, did I?"

"...I would never stoop that low," Tail muttered. "Besides—ugh—whatever! It’s different!"

It racked its brain for a proper argument but couldn't quite put its finger on what exactly felt off.

Phantylia stole a glance at Chen Lin. Since when did we Heliobi have more principles than the Lord himself…?

Wait.

Am I still even a Heliobus at this point?

If I am, then where is my true body?

If I’m not… then what exactly am I?

[Existential Crisis.jpg]

Just then, Qingque strolled in, yawning. She plopped down into a chair beside Chen Lin and poured herself a cup of tea.

"Old Chen, what brings you here today?"

"Had something to ask you."

As Chen Lin explained the situation, Tail floated over to the window and peeked outside. Then, with a whoosh, it zipped back behind Huohuo, transforming into a tail again.

"Oi, you little coward, let’s go! I’ve got corpses to mess with!"

"M-Me? Do I have to go too?"

"No shit! How else am I supposed to get there, genius? And if you keep yapping, I’ll make those corpses gnaw on you instead. Move it!"

Huohuo let out a pitiful whimper as Tail forcibly lifted her off the ground, carrying her out the door at high speed…

...

A few minutes later, after explaining the situation in full, Qingque sipped her tea, deep in thought.

After a long pause, she shook her head.

"I don’t think it’s necessary. Look, Old Chen—Elation Emanators follow the concept of pleasure, right? But to enforce a concept, you need both actions and objective reality to support it. Causing trouble for the embassy won’t bring them any fun—it’ll just bring endless retaliation."

Qingque’s reasoning was sound. The Xianzhou never let go of a grudge. Pleasure cultists worshiped their own definitions of joy and amusement. And what kind of people were the best to mess with?

The answer was obvious—random nobodies. Or, to put it bluntly, NPCs.

Only an insignificant, disposable identity could guarantee that they wouldn’t get dragged into the mess themselves. If they couldn’t even escape unscathed, then what joy was there to be had? They’d just end up being hunted across the universe by the Xianzhou.

That was not in their best interest.

Chen Lin nodded. "Alright. I’ll leave it to you."

"Heh."

Qingque tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she tugged at Chen Lin’s sleeve and leaned in with a playful smile.

"Old Chen, are you hiding something from me?"

She didn't believe for a second that Chen Lin would come to her just for something this trivial—he had to be keeping something under wraps.

If this had happened a few days ago, she might not have been so sure. But recently, she'd seen and heard a few things that didn’t quite add up. After piecing everything together, she was now confident—Chen Lin was definitely up to something, and it was far from simple.

Sure enough, at her words, Chen Lin chuckled.

"What makes you think that? Can’t I just be here to take you out for dinner after work?"

"Oh? Then why don’t you explain to me—why is it that with a war looming, the forces at the Gate are actually decreasing while border security keeps tightening? And why monopolize the media coverage of this entire event, citing a state of emergency to deny foreign journalists entry?"

By Chen Lin’s usual style—and given how much prestige Jarilo-VI desperately needed right now—Qingque had expected him to invite a wide range of media outlets to report on the Gate’s opening. That would have aligned perfectly with both his and Belobog’s interests.

But instead, he was being unusually cautious, turning down numerous requests from foreign journalists and only allowing reporters from Jarilo-VI’s own corporate branch to embed with the military. This was completely at odds with what she had predicted.

Most outsiders wouldn’t think much of it. After all, corporate reporters had better equipment and more resources than independent journalists. If anything, others might assume they could simply repost the news later.

But Qingque knew better.

Belobog’s corporate branch wasn’t just a regular subsidiary—it was a division directly under the company’s headquarters. Its leader, Topaz, acted just like any other corporate executive, but Qingque had long suspected that she was actually working for Chen Lin.

And why was that?

Because her dear friend absolutely hated being watched. His meticulous nature and strategic mindset meant that many of his moves were made in the shadows.

Right now, the most conspicuous presence on Jarilo-VI was undoubtedly Topaz and her corporate team. Yet Chen Lin had allowed the company’s reporters to embed with the military? That was suspicious.

So, Qingque had arrived at a much more plausible conclusion—Chen Lin was executing a plan to secure even greater benefits for himself, and the key to it all lay in controlling the narrative.

Trying to manipulate too many different media outlets would have been difficult, but by reducing the number of voices in play and relying on two highly influential entities—the Interastral Peace Corporation and Jarilo-VI’s own journalists—he could lull other civilizations into a false sense of security.

After all, these two giants were among the most authoritative voices in the galaxy.

The Empire might lie to us, but surely the company wouldn’t risk its own interests by colluding with them, right?

If a single person lied, it was just a lie.

If ten people lied, one might hesitate.

But if a million respected figures all told the same lie, then that lie became truth.

In the end, Qingque concluded that Chen Lin was planning something big—something centered entirely around controlling public perception.

"Well, well…"

Chen Lin nearly lost his composure at her analysis, sighing in mock frustration.

"If I don’t get you assigned to the Qlipoth Fort as an advisor, I’m really doing the world a disservice."

"Actually, if the General and the Master Diviner approve, I wouldn’t mind going." Qingque blinked playfully before adding, "And if the pay is good enough, I could sneak in even if they don’t approve."

Chen Lin immediately waved his hands.

"No, no, forget it. I don’t want your Master Diviner charging over to beat me up. This is actually quite simple—I just need the Luofu embassy to cooperate a little, like this… and this…"

---

This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!