“Space-time changed in that one microsecond, as if another dimension overlapped with the space-time on Freeport…”

Dr. Jones wanted to explain further, but seeing Davis’s impatient face, he stopped his lengthy speech:

“The other dimension and our own did an exchange, using that suspected dead alien to take away our Statue of the Goddess!”

Only then did Davis and his companion seem to understand:

“Earth traded the Statue of the Goddess for that alien?”

“No, it could be the universe.”

Dr. Jones pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his expression somewhat feverish and manic:

“My guess is that the alien’s mass must be incredibly close to, or even equal to, the entire mass of the Statue of the Goddess! That’s my hypothesis. To be sure, we need to find the corpse of that mysterious person before we can draw a conclusion.”

“Your guess must be wrong! The Statue of the Goddess, including its base, weighs over two hundred tons. Even if it’s an alien, with a normal human body size, it’s impossible to have that kind of mass!”

Davis returned to his expressionless face, but a flash of greed appeared in his eyes:

“Land, land! We must find that alien’s corpse!”

Under the moonless, pitch-black night, in a pit dozens of meters deep.

A faint whisper could barely be heard amidst the helicopter’s loud roar:

“Royal Perception Temple, Wangquan Dao, in the end, you still didn’t kill me, Henry Clark!”

Chapter 6: Bright, Dark, Transformation, Elixir, Gang, Spirit!

“According to insider sources, on the night of December 24th, a large-scale armed conflict broke out at the Freeport of Yue City, the financial and economic center of the Golden Eagle Empire. A suspected terrorist attack occurred. As of 2:43 a.m. Xuanching time, no related organization has claimed responsibility…”

In Xingcheng Garden Community, inside the three-story house of the The Smith Family, Mr. Smith Matthew Smith was watching TV with rapt attention.

The sofa looked a bit small under his burly frame.

Click—

With the sound of a key turning in the lock, Matthew Smith’s body trembled.

The door opened. Brian Smith glanced at the lit kitchen and said softly, “Dad, Mom, I’m back.”

At 2:30 a.m., theirs was the only house in the entire villa district with the lights still on.

“It’s good you’re back.”

Matthew Smith got up and took his son’s suitcase, setting it aside. Looking at his son, who had grown even thinner, his waist not even as thick as his own leg, his eyes reddened.

Mr. Smith was tall, nearly 1.9 meters, and due to years of martial arts training, was extremely robust—a true northern man of China.

“Qiqi is back?”

With a cry of surprise, a middle-aged woman in an apron rushed out of the kitchen.

“Mom.”

Brian Smith felt a headache coming on. “I’m already grown up, and you still call me Qiqi…”

“Qiqi, you’ve lost weight again.”

Mrs. Smith’s hands trembled, and tears streamed down her face.

Although she already knew from video calls with her son over the past year, seeing him so thin in person still broke her heart.

“Our son finally comes home, and you’re crying for what!”

Matthew Smith glared. He couldn’t stand this the most:

“Hurry up and cook, our son must be hungry.”

“Qiqi, Mom will go cook. You sit with your dad for a bit.”

Mrs. Smith wiped her tears and went into the kitchen.

“Dad, how have you and Mom been lately?”

Brian Smith sat on the sofa and pressed the remote, and the paused news resumed playing.

“We’re both fine.”

Matthew Smith casually picked up an orange and handed it to his son:

“Don’t worry about us. Has your health gotten any worse? I heard someone say there’s a hospital in Yue City, Golden Eagle Country, that’s had a case like yours. Should we go check it out?”

“No need. I know my own illness.”

Brian Smith peeled the orange, his face calm:

“For the time I have left, just let me spend it with you.”

So-called terminal illnesses fall into two categories: one is diseases like motor neuron disease or cancer, which are currently incurable; the other is rare and strange illnesses, commonly called “mystery diseases.”

These may not be harder to treat than the former, but they are extremely rare. His illness was so rare that the doctors even discussed naming rights with him.

No precedent, no cure, no experience, no cause found.

Even living in the best military hospital in Daxuan, the best doctors could only watch helplessly as he grew weaker day by day, unable to do anything.

It was as if there was a black hole inside his body—no matter how much he tried to nourish himself, it couldn’t keep up with the loss.

In just one year, he had lost over thirty jin, becoming skin and bones.

According to the doctors, at most he had another year before he would become just a skeleton.

“Well, that’s fine. The Golden Eagle Country hasn’t been peaceful lately either. Seems like there was a terrorist attack…”

Matthew Smith sighed inwardly, feeling powerless.

In the past, no matter how vicious the criminals he faced, he had never felt so helpless.

As the father and son both fell silent, the atmosphere in the house grew heavy, with only the news still playing on the TV.

“Terrorist attack? Weren’t all the bearded ones already killed?”

Brian Smith feigned curiosity, breaking the silence.

“Didn’t the news yesterday say the Statue of the Goddess in the Golden Eagle Country disappeared? Later they said it was fake news, but someone filmed a large-scale gunfight at Yue City Freeport, and more than ten planes crashed.”

Matthew Smith picked up the remote and switched to the earlier news broadcast: