Yang Ying opened the market and summoned his Flying Motorcycle, riding it back to the dormitory villa. Yang Ying locked the door to Bai Zhukou Si’s room again and entered the Floating Continent, taking the metal box with him.

He arrived at Sub-Level Fifty of the Research Institute’s testing grounds. The Research Institute oversaw more than three hundred testing grounds, each with a different environment where researchers frequently tested various new weapons. Yang Ying simply chose one that was currently unused.

The testing ground was vast, as empty as a large warehouse, with no equipment surrounding the area—only ninety-nine figures waiting there. There was a department within the Institute specifically responsible for manufacturing and storing Yang Ying’s clones, always keeping over a thousand spares on hand, so acquiring ninety-nine clones was effortless.

Each clone’s mental power was capped slightly above one million, the minimum requirement for the peak of Level Three. This power had been siphoned from the fifty clones currently being administered the top-tier gene activation serum.

Yang Ying opened the cubic metal box. Ninety-nine commemorative badges flew out, dispersing toward the clones, each extending a hand to receive one. The distribution was perfectly completed.

The very last badge, belonging to the Glacier Central Academy, Yang Ying intended to keep with his main body for collection. Simultaneously, he planned to use it as the server for his virtual laboratory.

His headpiece was inconvenient for serving as this server because the ninety-nine clones would reside in the virtual lab for experiments year-round, whereas his headpiece was frequently connected to the Imperial Virtual World. Yang Ying was not exactly proficient in the intricacies of quantum brains; perhaps “proficient enough” was more accurate, but certainly not entirely proficient.

In the more than a year he had spent studying at Glacier Central Academy, he had absorbed tens of thousands of courses on the public education platform, naturally not skipping knowledge concerning quantum brains. He believed that with his current understanding, he could easily pass the entrance exam for the Academy’s Quantum Brain Department if he chose to take it now.

However, facing the subtle yet absolute ability of Dean Gu Yansi of the Quantum Brain Department to silently control others’ quantum brains, Yang Ying felt he still lagged far behind. Reaching Gu Yansi’s level in a short time would likely only be possible if he immediately advanced to Level Four.

With his current level of quantum brain knowledge, if his headpiece were attacked by a master hacker on the virtual network, he might not be able to cope. If, at that point, it was discovered that ninety-nine peak Level Threes were using the virtual laboratory, the situation would become rather troublesome.

Although none of the ninety-nine clones had identity bindings, even if discovered, they would merely appear as ninety-nine mysterious individuals. Peak Level Threes were not rare in the Empire, and their discovery wouldn’t cause a major stir. Nevertheless, it would bring unwanted complications to the identity of Igor. He wished to remain at Glacier Central Academy to continue learning profound pharmaceutical knowledge and did not want to invite trouble this early. Therefore, in any aspect, he needed to plan ahead, preventing even the slightest sprout of a problem.

If the virtual laboratory could be transferred to the commemorative badge, and the badge kept from connecting to the virtual network, this problem would be largely solved. Then, all one hundred badges would only need to form a Local Area Network (LAN), operating independently, isolated from the Imperial Network, rendering them invisible to the Empire’s master hackers.

Establishing a LAN among dozens of quantum brains was classified as Level Four knowledge in the Empire's knowledge taxonomy; the information from the public education platform was more than sufficient.

The setup process went smoothly. All quantum brains possessed close-range communication functions, much like how Bluetooth existed on Earth five centuries ago—it was inconceivable for Imperial technology to lack something similar.

Yang Ying used this close-range connection to establish the LAN. By disabling all other connection methods and leaving only this one, they could be used securely. At worst, he could keep the Glacier Central Academy badge on the Floating Continent and only access the virtual lab by first traveling there to utilize it.

Logging into the virtual laboratory was similar in process to spiritual travel on the Floating Continent; both required absolute concentration, akin to the soul departing the body.

He finished setting up the LAN in just five minutes. He then transferred the virtual laboratory from his headpiece into the Glacier Central Academy badge.

The virtual laboratory program could not be copied; it could only be moved. If a user attempted to copy it, unless their quantum brain programming skill vastly surpassed that of the virtual laboratory’s creator, the laboratory would self-destruct instantly.

Yang Ying’s quantum brain level had naturally not reached that point, so he could only transfer it.

After the transfer was complete, he used the Glacier Central Academy badge to send invitation letters to the other ninety-nine badges. Upon receiving the invitations, the clones logged into the virtual laboratory using them.

Indeed, all one hundred individuals successfully entered the virtual laboratory.

They could choose to occupy individual single rooms or merge the rooms to share a larger laboratory space.

After testing all functions, Yang Ying logged out. He configured the Glacier Central Academy badge to allow anyone who picked it up to use it, regardless of identity, then handed it to one of the clones and departed the Floating Continent.

In the following days, bolstered by the hundredfold experience multiplier, Yang Ying’s “Alchemy Talent” gradually began to manifest. Half a month later, he successfully created his first Grade Nine, Type Two potion. Half a month multiplied by one hundred equals just over four years; even factoring in the variances from the different physical states, Yang Ying’s rate of progress was considered normal among pharmacists, though to others, it appeared as undeniable alchemical genius.

As Yang Ying diligently researched alchemy, tens of thousands of light-years away from Glacier Star, in the Empire’s core capital sphere...

The capital sphere comprised hundreds of inhabited planets and represented the Empire’s most developed region. The number of True Human nobles residing here exceeded the combined total of all other regions outside the capital star.

The heart of the capital sphere was naturally the Imperial Capital Star, and the core of the Capital Star was the Imperial Grand Palace, which boasted a history spanning one hundred thousand years.

Since the founding day of the Atlantean Empire, the Capital Star, the Imperial City, and the Grand Palace had never changed. This location had witnessed the Empire’s long history and the glory once created by the True Humans.

It was rumored that every generation of Emperors was a Level Four entity, possessing infinite power and wisdom, leading the entire True Human race to the apex of the galaxy. At that time, the entire Empire consisted only of True Humans; the Aberrant race did not exist. Everyone was born awakened with supernatural abilities.

However, over ten thousand years ago, for unknown reasons, the Empire suddenly suffered a massive catastrophe. Large numbers of people died or went mad, and the vast majority of True Humans lost their powers, regressing into Aberrants. The Empire’s borders contracted sharply, shrinking to only half their original size.

This was not mere conjecture; numerous pieces of evidence supported the theory that Aberrants were descendants of regression. The most significant proof lay in the brain structure: whether True Human or Aberrant, the fundamental structure was similar.

Yet, unawakened Aberrants could never utilize the full potential of their brains throughout their lives, with most only realizing one to two percent of it. Those who could reach ten percent were considered geniuses.

In contrast, a True Human who cultivated their spiritual power to the peak of Level One would naturally develop their brain to ten percent. Reaching the peak of Level Two meant full brain development—one hundred percent. Upon reaching Level Three, they could surpass the brain’s limits and achieve a state of transcendent sanctity.

The essential difference between Aberrants and True Humans was fundamentally about awakening or lack thereof.

Nevertheless, this history from ten millennia ago had long been sealed away, circulated only among the high-ranking nobility of the Empire.

To this day, the Aberrants had forgotten their origins and were unaware that they shared the same ancestors as the True Humans. Even many True Humans remained ignorant of this fact. This history had become a taboo, never to be mentioned again.

In the depths of the Grand Palace, there was a magnificent hall, cold and vast. A towering throne stood at the highest point of the dais, flanked by two slightly lower seats on either side.

All three chairs were carved from the finest Galaxy Stone, with the Imperial Throne being the most dazzling. The sculptor evidently possessed the ability to craft wonders from the heavens and earth; a powerful, lingering spiritual will was condensed upon the throne, conveying one singular message: the supreme, unrivaled authority of the galaxy.

It was said that an ordinary person who dared to look directly at the throne would be struck with paralyzing terror and die of fright.

Currently, the two lower seats were vacant, while seated on the throne was a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. Her aura was transcendent, as if condensing the glory of the entire galaxy. Her eyes sparkled like the starry sky, and her hair, which seemed white at first glance, upon closer inspection, contained seven distinct colors. She wore a crown nine layers high, studded with various rare, glittering gemstones, connected by flowing, luminous silk threads that shimmered with dazzling light.

A voice sounded from outside the hall: “Your Majesty, the Regent requests an audience.”

“Admit him,” the woman replied softly.

The great doors opened, and the Regent, Sandor, walked in.

He was a man of considerable bearing, appearing to be around forty years old. He wore elaborate robes, and his steps were imposing, with every swing of his arm causing faint ripples of spatial distortion to emerge, swirling around him. He looked immensely formidable.

The woman glanced at him coolly. “Regent, what is your business?”

“Your Majesty,” Sandor bowed slightly. “There is urgent military intelligence. The races of the Perseus Arm have lost their minds. A mere fifteen species are attempting to unite, just like the Tan Star people five thousand years ago, to invade the True Human Empire.”

“Oh? Such a matter has arisen,” the woman’s voice remained faint. “And how do you propose we handle the Regent?”

“We must exterminate them, just as we did the Tan Star people and the Glenval people back then,” Sandor said, his gaze fixed intently on the woman on the throne.

“Then proceed according to your wishes, Regent,” the woman’s tone betrayed no emotional fluctuation. “Is there anything else?”

Alas, the accumulated debt is great. Diamond sincerely apologizes; my mind seized up and stayed seized until now. This is only the second chapter for today. Chapter three... I can only ask for a grace period of one day. Diamond will certainly write early tomorrow, I promise not to delay again. Crying, I have no face to ask for monthly votes.”