Chapter 999
Cultural Gap: Friends are Food
Back at the Victory Team base, Choi Myung-ra had just placed the combat report on the table when he was stopped by hurried footsteps. Horii ran over, panting, his face showing a mixture of helplessness and urgency: "Instructor, Instructor! Do you have time?"
Cui Ming looked up at him, the newly opened report page still between his fingers, his tone habitually serious: "What's wrong? Want to train? Haven't you mastered the fighting techniques I taught you yesterday?"
"No!" Horii hurriedly waved his hand, his forehead almost creased with black lines—ever since he was subjected to three days of special training by Choi, he now reflexively tensed up at the mere mention of the word "training." "It's my mentor, Professor Mizuno. He wants to talk to you about the Lightning Man."
Upon hearing the words "Lightning Man," Cui Ming paused in his fingertips, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly: "What does he want to talk about?"
As they spoke, Professor Mizuno approached. The elderly man, with gray hair and thick glasses, clutched a research report on the Lightning People. His tone was earnest: "Captain Cui, I've studied the Lightning People for many years and have always believed they are not incommunicable beings. The conflict between humans and them can perhaps be resolved through peaceful negotiations; there's no need to resort to force."
“Peace negotiations?” Before he could finish speaking, Cui Ming sneered and pulled a palm-sized black device from his pocket—its casing was covered with fine antennas, making it look like some kind of signal receiver. He threw the device onto the table in front of Professor Mizuno, his tone cold and hard, “Put it on, turn it on, and listen to this first.”
Professor Mizuno paused, puzzled, but followed Cui Ming's instructions, putting the device on his ear and pressing the switch. The next second, a sharp, shrill scream instantly pierced his ears—the sound was unlike anything made by any known creature, filled with excruciating pain and mixed with some kind of frenzied roar, sending chills down one's spine and raising goosebumps.
"What...what is that sound?!" Professor Mizuno abruptly removed the equipment, his face deathly pale, his hands trembling. In all his life, he had never heard such a terrifying scream, as if it were the wailing of life being brutally torn apart.
Seeing his shocked expression, Cui Ming's tone remained unwavering: "Did you hear that? That's the scream of the Lightning People. Do you know why it sounds like that? Because they're eating their own kind—when food is scarce, strong Lightning People will hunt down weaker members of their own kind. What you just heard was the sound of their prey being torn apart."
He paused, his gaze sharpening as he stared at Professor Mizuno, and retorted, word by word, "You're telling me you want to communicate with these things? Are you sure that while you're 'negotiating' with them, they won't treat you as their next 'food' and swallow you whole?"
Professor Mizuno opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his throat tight and he couldn't utter a single word. The research report in his hand fell to the table with a "thud." His previous idea that "Lightning Man can communicate" collapsed without a trace in the face of the terrifying screams and Cui Ming's words.
Horii, standing nearby, felt a chill run down his spine—he only knew the Lightning People were unfriendly to humans, but he hadn't imagined they were so cruel as to cannibalize each other. Seeing his mentor's distraught state, and recalling Cui Ming's words, he suddenly realized that Cui Ming's previous hostility towards the Lightning People wasn't without reason. Cui Ming bent down to pick up the equipment on the table, put it back in his pocket, and spoke with a calm tone, yet with an undeniable firmness: "Professor, I respect your research, but I have no illusions about 'communication' with the Lightning People. Compromise and negotiation with creatures that could treat us as food at any moment will only put us in danger."
Professor Mizuno watched Cui Ming's resolute back and recalled the chilling screams from just now, and finally fell silent—perhaps he was really wrong, that he had underestimated these cruel creatures.
Professor Mizuno staggered back half a step, barely managing to steady himself by grabbing the edge of the table beside him. His once straight back slumped instantly, his gray hair seemed to have turned even whiter, and even the hand holding his glasses was trembling uncontrollably—the screams from just now were still echoing in his ears, and Cui Ming's words were like a heavy hammer, shattering his decades of perseverance.
He dedicated his life to studying "coexistence between alien life and humans," always believing that with enough kindness and patience, even the fiercest creatures could be won over. He poured countless efforts into the Lightning People: tracking their activity patterns, analyzing their reactions to electromagnetic waves, and even writing a thick stack of "peace communication plans," firmly believing that as long as the right approach was found, humans could definitely live in harmony with these ionospheric inhabitants.
But now he realizes how ridiculous his insistence was. He was like a fool reinventing the wheel, immersed in the ideal of "coexistence" but forgetting the most basic premise—whether the people he was communicating with possessed a "cultural baseline" similar to that of humans.
What is the culture of the Lightning People? It is to tear apart their own kind when food is scarce, to treat the weak as food, and to use the cries of their own kind as accompaniment to their meals.
What does such a creature know about "peace" or "friendship"? His previous longing to "make friends" is probably nothing more than "food delivered to his door" in the eyes of the Lightning Man; his carefully prepared "communication plan" may just be providing the other party with a reference on "how to hunt more easily".
“I…how could I have forgotten…” Professor Mizuno’s voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping, and the light in his eyes gradually dimmed. He remembered telling his students with great enthusiasm that “all life has the potential to be good,” but now it seemed that was nothing more than self-deceptive comfort. The cruelty of some creatures is already etched into their bones, into the “culture” on which they depend for survival, and cannot be changed by a few words of “peace.”
Horii felt a pang of sadness seeing his mentor age so drastically, but he didn't know how to comfort him—Tsui's words, though harsh, had pierced the most realistic truth. He could only gently pat the professor's shoulder and whisper, "Professor, don't be too sad... At least now we know the true face of the Lightning Man, which is better than suffering losses later."
Professor Mizuno didn't speak, but slowly squatted down and picked up the research report that had fallen to the ground. The dense handwriting on the paper looked particularly glaring at that moment. He ran his fingers over the four words "peaceful communication," and suddenly felt his eyes welling up—decades of hard work, all gone wrong from the very beginning. He had forgotten that to negotiate peace with beasts, the prerequisite was that the other party was willing to sheathe its fangs; and the Lightning People had never intended to put down their "dining plates." (End of Chapter)