The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

Jiang Hui felt like fate was really going to kill her for good.

Who can tell her why she ended up here again? Could it be that her greatest grievance in two lifetimes was this house on Blue Star?

Oh, right, that was the property her parents had worked so hard for their entire lives.

They had just finished paying off the mortgage, and before they could enjoy it for long, they left. By the time it was her turn, she didn’t even have the chance to enjoy the conveniences of being a homeowner before being transported to the stars. The things her family had worked so hard to hold onto for two generations would end up belonging to someone else.

So it was normal to think about it until the last moment. But she really couldn’t understand why this thing… would still appear here? Jiang Hui looked somewhat speechlessly at the large, mutated computer set into the original floor-to-ceiling window.

Why did this strange thing seem to appear every time she dreamt of her home on Blue Star since arriving in the stars?

Speaking of which, this thing looked really odd, lacking any sense of beauty, and it took up space. Wasn’t the previous transparent floor-to-ceiling window perfectly fine? She wanted to see the expansive scenery outside.

Why did she have to face this absurd computer even in death? Was this a reminder of how frustrating her death was?

Jiang Hui looked at the strangely positioned computer on the wall and couldn’t help but irritably slap the pitch-black screen.

However, this impulsive act of venting her frustration quickly backfired.

The computer wasn’t as fragile as Jiang Hui remembered; it felt as hard as a stone wall. Her soft palm hitting it felt like a futile attempt to break a rock.

The screen didn’t change a bit, but the force of the impact made her hand hurt painfully.

Jiang Hui winced in pain, instinctively gripping her wrist and squatting down, taking a long time to ease the buzzing sound that had risen in her mind.

Heaven help her, how could she still feel pain even after she was dead? Was this what the afterlife felt like?

But was she really dead? Had she died again in such a bizarre way? It seemed too abrupt and inexplicable for her to have experienced death so many times.

At that moment, in this place that she didn’t even recognize, Jiang Hui suddenly felt a surge of despair and disorientation.

She squatted on the ground, resting her head against her palm, her hand nearly covering her entire face, as if this was the only way to stop her emotions from overflowing.

After a long time… she had no idea how much time had passed before she finally managed to gather herself and stood up from where she was.

When she stood up again, she saw that the previously pitch-black computer screen had changed—it had booted up.

Although it wasn’t the computer screen she was familiar with, the page was indeed displaying information.

A black running frame was continuously refreshing a line of red characters. Well, it was more accurate to say it was displaying garbled text. There were numeric symbols, but there were also many unknown asterisks, forming a sequence without any apparent pattern, leaving her unsure of their meaning.

Jiang Hui stared at the red-running characters, feeling a vague sense of unease. This was because, at the last moment before the accident on Blue Star, she had also seen similar colored codes appear on the computer, and then she lost consciousness completely. When she woke up, she had already entered a different world.

The red code on the computer screen seemed to be displayed intermittently. It was less than half a meter of code that flickered and stuttered for quite some time, pausing frequently, and then stopping altogether for a while.

Although this period felt quite meaningless, inexplicably, Jiang Hui found herself captivated by that short column of code on the computer. She felt as if she could… almost understand it.

But what was all of this? What was… “approximately 1 ml… 1.35 cm… XX caliber… pipe diameter circular… curvature XXX… currently verifying with the database… should be a test tube apparatus… from the interstellar realm. Currently collecting… verifying data… modeling in progress, modeling complete, similarity over 80%.”

Suddenly, large blocks of data appeared in her mind, as if they had materialized out of nowhere, overwhelming her and leaving her breathless.

Accompanied by the sound of “beep beep beep,” Jiang Hui suddenly felt as if something had been abruptly pulled from her mind, causing a momentary dizziness.

At almost the same instant, a sound echoed from nearby—“thud.”

Jiang Hui instinctively looked in the direction of the sound. A crystal-clear little object had hit the tabletop; due to the slanted surface, it began to slide off, and it looked as though it was about to fall to the ground. In a flash, the girl deftly caught it.

When she clearly saw what was in her palm, she was momentarily stunned.

It was a… test tube?
No, more accurately, it was a test tube from the interstellar era, the very one used for the stabilizing agent; however, the stabilizing agent inside was gone.

Looking at this test tube, which obviously belonged to a different era from the room she was in, Jiang Hui felt an inexplicable and intense sense of incongruity rise within her.

So she had indeed died in the interstellar era, hadn’t she? Otherwise, how could she simultaneously see objects from two different eras? Or was this still a dream she was having in the interstellar era?

But if it was a dream, the frequency with which this room appeared was too high. Every time she found herself in it, she felt an indescribable sense of strangeness… as if she had touched upon some profound and enigmatic realm, something that couldn’t be articulated yet felt incredibly mysterious.

And this computer. Is it really displaying such a strange form in this bizarre room because of her deep resentment towards the cause of her past life’s death?

Jiang Hui felt that she was getting closer to the truth, as if there was a thin layer of sand separating her from it—if she could just delve a little deeper, she might be able to reach it.

But that thin layer was so elusive that after thinking for a long time, she still couldn’t break through the barrier and ultimately had to give up.

Jiang Hui sighed lightly, pulled her swivel chair closer, and began to examine the suddenly appeared test tube, twisting it between her thumb and index finger under the light, feeling a bit entranced.

This test tube seemed somewhat different from the ones she had seen in the interstellar era; it appeared more crystalline and transparent, without as many bubbles… Huh? Her eyes suddenly widened, as she noticed that when she turned the test tube again, the tiny bubbles that had been trapped in the walls were all gone. Not only that, but the entire test tube seemed to have become crystal clear in that instant, as if what she had seen before had been an illusion.

Jiang Hui abruptly sat up straight, her back rigid, and her mind became instantly clear.

Her first reaction was to look at the computer screen, where she saw a new line of code suddenly appear. It was short—much shorter than the previous ones—but there was no doubt that it was newly generated.

When she saw that line of code, which was probably less than one-tenth the length of the previous ones, a new piece of information surfaced in her mind. ‘Modify template, change to material type XX, should be interstellar material… Crafting changes… Currently verifying data… Proofreading changes completed… Second modeling completed.’

No way, did I do this?!