Chapter 6171 - 5182: Soul-Stirring Ideal Homeland (39)

Shiller couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Because he realized that perhaps Yug is like a scholar encountering a soldier, unable to make sense no matter how reasonable.

If Iron Man just thinks of Yug as a playmate for amusement, or simply a little pet, then no matter how impressive an array Yug draws, Iron Man will just think it’s a puppy playing with toys and won’t take it seriously.

If Yug understood human linear storytelling, it might have some merit. After all, comics don’t require a high threshold of understanding; at least you can see it’s telling a story. But he doesn’t understand that; he only knows this nested drawing style, possibly because he doesn’t understand that humans need linear storytelling to comprehend things, so he draws these circular patterns. At first glance, Iron Man will feel it’s random scribbles without any pattern and won’t take it seriously.

No matter how complicated Yug’s drawings are or how much content he stuffs into them, it’s useless if Iron Man doesn’t look at them. Probably driven to desperation, he forcefully turns a literary master into an early education figure, starting to adopt a simple style of drawing.

But even his simplistic drawings are not understandable by humans. After drawing for hours, Iron Man still couldn’t comprehend it, and then, in retaliation, drew a few strange and ugly cell diagrams. It’s hard to imagine how desperate Yug was about Iron Man’s artistic skills.

Given Shiller’s understanding of Iron Man, Iron Man might even proudly point to his ugly drawings and tell Yug that’s how a drawing should be.

Turns out Iron Man doesn’t do much else here other than torment an Outer God every day. Misisha doesn’t need to feel too bad because Yug didn’t have a pleasant time with Iron Man either. Harassing phone calls might not be worse than artistic exchanges in terms of mental torment.

The surprising thing is, Constantine could actually understand this painting.

After waiting for the mouse to explain, he said, "This painting actually expresses a question. I guess Yug is trying to ask what Iron Man is planning to do with this construction, and he offered a critique, thinking this building is ugly."

"How did you see that?" Peter was a bit surprised. He didn’t see any content expressing doubt on this pattern, just felt it was a big mass of lines.

"Not every clone of Nya is illiterate," Constantine said, clearly implying, "Considering the one I know who lets me write novels, you can tell he quite likes literature and art."

"I don’t appreciate that remark," the mouse said while stroking his whiskers again, "If a company only had designers and copywriters, it would have gone bankrupt a long time ago; someone has to do some real work, right?"

Constantine didn’t intend to debate this topic with him but instead wiped off the original pattern, drew another one, and said, "This one I found slightly higher up on the wall. It’s likely drawn afterward. This pattern expresses shock and a sense of obstruction."

"Shock? What is he shocked about?" Shiller asked.

Constantine shook his head. Shiller thought for a moment and said, "Does he know Iron Man is going to make harassing phone calls to Misisha? No, if he knew, he would definitely stop him because he knows this could drive Misisha mad, not to mention it could also affect Asathos. He would definitely not stand idly by."

"I also lean towards him not knowing," the mouse said, "If this computer is the first time your friend has created it, Yug might not immediately judge what it’s used for, at least not before it’s activated, because this sort of thing is indeed a bit... beyond comprehension."

Shiller actually agrees with this. Yug does know all knowledge, including past, present, and future knowledge. This means he understands future technological developments as well. But the problem is, without Iron Man, can this scale of cell computer really appear in the future? If not, Yug also wouldn’t know.

If he doesn’t understand the principle, Yug wouldn’t have much to be shocked about. To him, Iron Man might have just built a very ugly house, just like the initial pattern he drew expressed, he just wants to know why Iron Man built such an ugly house.

Peter seemed to have thought of something, he said, "Stripping all the blood from oneself should be quite terrifying, right?"

"Terrifying?" Shiller didn’t understand, "How could an Outer God find humans drawing blood terrifying?"

"It depends on whether the Outer God has common sense," Peter explained, "If he knows how many milliliters of blood loss is fatal for a human, then someone suddenly wanting to draw out all their blood might be perceived as them intending to commit suicide, naturally shocking and causing him to want to prevent it."

Shiller thought about it, and it seemed to be the case. Although logically speaking, Iron Man has already become similar to an Outer God, this stage might not have discarded his corporeal form; otherwise, he wouldn’t have blood.

So, from Yog’s perspective, possibly just a slightly strange human suddenly trying to commit suicide by bloodletting, without any reason or warning, he’d certainly be shocked, might even suspect he’s driven another one mad.

"He might have thought about intervening," Constantine said, "but for some reasons didn’t do so, instead just drew this pattern, which can be considered a verbal warning, but obviously Iron Man couldn’t understand it."

"Yog isn’t stupid, he should feel that Iron Man has no suicidal tendencies," Shiller said, "or through Iron Man’s actions, judge that he might be carrying out a ritual, so even though he doesn’t understand, he still didn’t deliberately stop him."

"He should’ve stopped him," the mouse sighed, "If only he had stopped this madman, our house wouldn’t have collapsed."

"Then you’re underestimating Iron Man," Shiller said, "As long as he’s here, your house will collapse sooner or later."

"So why did you bring him back in the first place?!" the mouse was a bit agitated, stomping and circling, but finally turned into a long sigh, not expecting that despite evolving to such an extent, he could still fall prey to aliens, other places could still pray for divine intervention, but here even the lord couldn’t open his eyes to take a look.

After researching the murals, they continued to push the previous plan forward. At night, the mouse was busy with something unknown, possibly trying to contact Yog, but it didn’t seem very successful, he was busy for half the day without any response.

During breakfast the next morning, the mouse said: "Completely unable to contact Yog’s main body, this means he might have used greater force to maintain the current space-time order’s continuation. But strangely, can’t contact Tavier either, Tavier is one of his clones, if I’m not mistaken, he should be home now, might have some tasks too."

Shiller thought for a moment, Tavier seems to be called the guide, a humanoid creature wearing a veil, also known as the gentle side of Yog-Sothoth, one of the clones that wisdom lifeforms like humans encounter most easily. While another avatar, Yafu, only appears when angered, given Yog’s current level of fury, this avatar should be busy chasing Misisha.

"I’ll try again later," the mouse said, "Tavier is quite easy to talk to, should agree to our requests, I just hope all this stops soon."

During the day, Shiller went for another round in the lake, this time he coincidentally bumped into the discharge area, he smoothly found the discharge outlet, there might be a one-way valve inside, so he had to call Peter to see if the valve could be removed. Peter went in and took a look, found it actually to be a very simple structure, but dismantling it might require several cats working together, so they would have to wait to do that.

The pipeline production had already been more than halfway through, actually simpler than expected. Initially, the plan was to pump the water up, but for reasons unknown, whether pollution or the nature of the liquid, they are used with straws, or rather, instinctively draw water.

The point is, simply by inserting the pipeline, they would draw the water in themselves. Peter speculated it might be due to the blood cells’ cluster actually not knowing they were polluted, needing water to cool down.

By noon, Little Superman brought along a huge bird. Seeing the increasingly larger animals, Shiller leaned over and rubbed against Little Superman, expressing encouragement. Little Superman could now feed four cats with just one bird.

"I’m glad I can help," Little Superman, transformed into a tractor, kept rumbling, tail high up, emotions running high, rubbing back and forth against Shiller.

Good news followed one after another. Before long, the mouse came up again, with a clang threw something on the ground. Shiller looked over to find it was a key. The mouse said: "The Silver Key, you can understand it as a universal key to open all space-time gates. This is a nice thing, if it weren’t urgent circumstances, Tavier wouldn’t be willing to give me this."

Shiller leaned over to take a look, but the surface of the key flickered with scenes of space-time shattering, he dared not look closely. He looked at the mouse and asked: "What happened to Tavier?"

"The disaster situation is quite serious," the mouse’s tone sank again, "Not just us, many other existences are affected, even the avatars of outer gods are pinned down, he’s rescuing the disaster."

Several cats found it difficult to imagine, such problems for outer gods too, such powerful existences being pinned down by a collapsed house. Little Superman couldn’t help but ask: "Do you guys usually have car accidents? Like bumping into each other while floating around?"

"That’s really common." the mouse started complaining again, "I’m just saying, that guy Misisha, if only it’d just be a bad temper, it wouldn’t matter, the key is not prioritizing actual work. The Tindalos clan were originally traffic police, but ever since he became the leader, the traffic situation here has been chaos."

"You also know, most of the time outer gods are asleep, and not every outer god has an individual room, many sleep haphazardly in living rooms and corridors, collisions are inevitable. The last time I came back, I encountered one, doomed it was, two nearly merged into one."

The mouse clicked his tongue while talking. Although it sounded like a world-shaking cosmic disaster, for some reason, hearing the mouse describe it, it was more like a fender bender downstairs. Several cats exchanged looks, indeed, distance lends enchantment.