Respond, Respond

Even though the decision had already been made to go if needed, whether they actually would was still not entirely certain. After all, this concerned Pegmont, far away on Mars. Both elements were steeped in uncertainty. Stream Blades base, First Operations Conference Room. The room was not large. When an unassuming conference room has an old-fashioned Huaxia round table set at its center, it is destined that not many people can attend meetings there. At the same time, it subtly implies that it is sometimes used for hot pot. "Want a pot? Spicy or split broth?" Li Xiang, the youngster looking after the conference room, specifically asked before leaving. "No need," Han Qingyu waved his hand. The few of them sat down and waited a moment. Once the logistics personnel finished patching through the loudspeaker, they promptly left as well. *Pop, pop-pop.* After a few bursts of static, audio from the scene cut in... Han Qingyu listened for about seven or eight seconds, sensed something amiss, and asked: "Why does this sound like it isn't the direct communication?" The patched signal was not coming from the live transmission line between the Rejectors and Pegmont, but from the confidential conference room of the Azure Council. Over there, Speaker Kemore and other members of the presidium also seemed gathered together listening in. Mr. Speaker had just whispered a greeting, but since the call had not yet been cut through on their end, no one here had bothered to reply. "They said there's a hiccup with the communication. Once connected, they'll patch us through." Wen Jifei switched off the communicator in his hand and walked over from the door. His eyes carried a flicker of unease before he forced himself to calm down. Passing by, he casually flicked a switch to join the audio, then sat down beside Han Qingyu and whispered, "When it connects, give Pink Hair a proper greeting." "I know." Han Qingyu nodded seriously, his expression showing a rare tension, as if he were about to face a momentous event. *So what should I say later? If it's truly as the chief of staff said—that Pegmont's perception of his own strength back in Antarctica was that he was only slightly behind me.* *Tell him that after the battle in Antarctica my Yanxiu shattered, but I became even stronger instead—so strong that perhaps I can fight Ne head-on now?* *Yet that was only my personal subsequent advancement; it doesn't form a logical basis for synchronized growth.* *Besides, that guy's trait—a bug-like willpower and self-perception—isn't something that can be affected just by telling him anything or forcibly drumming it into his head. Otherwise, humanity would have conquered the entire universe long ago.* *It has to be discovered and felt by Pegmont himself. You can try to guide him, but you can't be too deliberate, and you certainly can't reveal any flaws. Otherwise, not only will it be ineffective, but it might also trigger his self-doubt, ultimately ruining everything.* *In short, all logic has to stem from Pegmont himself, through analysis and contemplation, arriving at a conviction.* *Only when he himself, suddenly or naturally, feels that things are completely reasonable, completely logical, and just the way they are, will it work.* Given Pegmont's bizarre, idiosyncratic personality, his level of scientific and general knowledge on par with North America's He Tangtang, and his everyday logic that transcended normal human reasoning, the acquisition and progression of such self-will and perception had, in the vast majority of past cases, happened purely through accidents and inexplicable occurrences. ...Han Qingyu pondered for several minutes without realizing it. By the time he came back to his senses, there was still no movement on the other end. "Why hasn't it connected yet? Pink Hair couldn't have rushed off to charge the tractor field right after sending that message, could he?" Yang Qingbai whispered from beside him, his eyes looking rather pessimistic as he asked. Immediately after, voices from a conversation came through from that side. The voice of a Rejectors operator sounded somewhat uneasy and subdued: "Reporting to the Speaker, everyone... We have been responding to Major General Pegmont, but there has been no reaction from his side so far." "No reaction? Could it be a communication delay or a malfunction?" In the conference room on the other end, General Bochen, who had not yet fully recovered from severe injuries, asked in a tense, anxious voice. "No, Admiral. 066 can monitor the status of communications on both ends. We are certain the connection has been established. It's just..." "Just what?" "It's just that there appears to be no one beside that communicator. A reasonable guess is that Major General Pegmont is not currently next to his communicator." "..." Just like Yang Qingbai, General Bochen also quickly thought of the most likely chain of events... Pegmont had sent the distress transmission and then charged the tractor field. Otherwise, he could never have left the communicator in a situation like that. "He went alone to charge the Martian tractor field." Although this was not hard to foresee, and although he was the greatest super-bug in human history, when placed in such an environment, physical state, and conditions, could he truly, as always, firmly believe in his own invincibility or immortality? *If it were me, I... I don't think I could.* After thinking this, Admiral Bochen immediately sank into dejection. Pegmont was someone he had conned off the streets of Mitli. Back then, he had conned him merely because he thought the kid could take a beating and was stubborn—well-suited for Azure. Only later did he realize that this kid might actually be humanity's greatest hope for the future! Later still, even though Pegmont's career in Azure had, with suicidal recklessness, repeatedly ruined the hard-won romantic spark between him and Christine, Bochen still considered this punk his greatest contribution to humanity in his entire lifetime... surpassing even his status as a pinnacle combatant of mankind and all his illustrious military exploits. And so, remaining unmarried to this day, Bochen viewed Peg as his only son. Though in most of their interactions, Peg seemed to act as if *he* were the father. "No, Peg, you wouldn't..." Admiral Bochen muttered like a pitiful father, striving to repel the pessimistic thoughts in his mind. "No matter how we reply, the response from the other side is always the exact same passage. Therefore, we can now confirm that it is an automated call set up by Major General Pegmont." The Rejectors operator paused before continuing: "Furthermore, we have no way to determine or know how long it has been calling continuously." This statement implied two possibilities: First, Pegmont might have left his communicator a long time ago, and throughout this period, he may never have returned. Second, that communicator on Mars could run out of power at any moment. Silence. On every end of the communication link, everyone fell silent for more than half a minute. "Keep responding. As long as the link remains, keep responding to him. Understood?" Speaker Kemore instructed. "Understood." "Notify us the moment there is any news." After saying this, Kemore paused, then shifted his tone to ask, "Does Major Qing have any thoughts right now?" This question was phrased diplomatically, but the implication behind it was crystal clear. In the Stream Blades conference room, everyone—including Rusty Sister, who was still playing her solo role as the Azure liaison officer—slowly turned their heads without a word, directing their gazes toward Han Qingyu. Han Qingyu leaned forward and moved close to the communicator. "Can you pinpoint the exact location of that communicator right now?" "...Yes," came the reply from the Rejectors. "Then continue calling." Without pausing, Han Qingyu shifted his address directly: "Regardless of whether we ultimately receive a response, begin preparations, Speaker Kemore. From Stream Blades, including myself, at least four can go." Utterly unlike Stream Blades' usual difficult attitude, shameless greed, and posturing to wait to be begged, Major Qing stated his position directly: Stream Blades' strongest four would all go. To Mars. Because there were far too many unknown factors there—such as whether the tractor field had already completed its traction, and if so, what exactly it had brought, what the survival and combat conditions on Mars were specifically like, and so forth—this expedition would likely be completely different from any in the past. And for the strong, the unknown was often far more dangerous than facing a powerful enemy. "Thank you." General Bochen spoke in place of the Speaker. "I'll go too." His injuries had not fully healed yet, or at least his strength hadn't. Speaker Kemore hesitated, while Han Qingyu and Wen Jifei exchanged glances, not yet sure how to phrase their response. "Alright, don't you worry, Old Bo. When you get there, just stick with me... I'll be sure to bring you back in one piece." It was He Tangtang who spoke, delivering this sentence with solemn magnanimity. The atmosphere instantly froze in an inexplicable silence. Until: "Alright." General Bochen chuckled bitterly amid his gloom. Then, everyone seemed to let out a small chuckle, trying their best to remain optimistic. ... "Say, why did that transmission suddenly have no follow-up?" Outside the chamber after the council session was adjourned, a councilor muttered softly in the crowd. They had been waiting inside all along, yet they hadn't received any subsequent news. Even Speaker Kemore had not reappeared. "No idea. But if even we aren't permitted to know, something probably went wrong," another councilor guessed in a low voice. Yet someone nearby still overheard. "Ah, something went wrong? What do we do then? I bet the news outside has already broken!" A passing councilor chimed in, shouting with dramatic exaggeration. On Blue Star today, the media's focus on the source energy world was unshakeably first and foremost. With the human press's investigative zeal and omnipresent methods, they surely knew about the earlier news by now. After all, there were over eight hundred councilors here. "In that case, the Azure top brass, swept up in immense joy and excitement, still acted without enough caution this time." "Yeah. Come tomorrow morning, with six billion humans celebrating across the globe... how are they supposed to explain it to them?!" The councilor spread his hands as he spoke, gesturing that the situation was terrible. As it turned out, he was right. Starting the very next morning, the entire world was like a divided nine-grid hot pot, gradually coming to a rolling boil. Pegmont's miraculous survival and imminent return revitalized all of humanity, inspiring renewed faith in the future. People across the globe rushed into the streets in excitement to celebrate, chanting slogans, waving Azure flags, or holding up posters of Pegmont—along with collections of his jokes and death-courting chronicles... "Please let us hear Major General Pegmont's voice!" "Yes, let us hear it! Better yet, broadcast it across the entire world all day long!" "..." Celebrations continued intermittently across the world for three days, and the unified clamor and appeals persisted for three days as well. From ordinary citizens to the media, everyone was fervently expressing their yearning. Yet Azure officialdom... remained completely silent throughout. Day four. Day five. Day six... "This is Blue Star, Azure, Rejectors. I am a living human being. This is not an automated craft speaking. I am Rejectors communicator Ina. Major General Pegmont, are you there?" "We hear you, Major General. Are you listening?" "Please respond." "Please respond. This is Blue Star, Azure, Rejectors. Major General Pegmont, can you hear us?" "We are preparing to come look for you." "Please respond. This is not a robot. Please respond." "Please respond. Just give us any different sound." Day and night, every minute and every second, team after team of Rejector communicators rotated in. They brought out every pretty girl in the army, individuals who had been lucky all their lives, superstitious rituals from various nations, female soldiers whose astrological signs were the most compatible with Pegmont... The continuous calls never ceased for an instant. Yet on the other end, on Mars, aside from that looping distress call, there was still no response whatsoever.