I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World-Chapter 982 - 610 Creeping Forward_1
Chapter 982: Chapter 610: Creeping Forward_1
Chapter 982 -610: Creeping Forward_1
James Wright refused the request to bring more people to the base.
He took only 0.1 seconds to organize his words and respond to the Empire’s high-level officials.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
He said, “Our research institute has gathered the best industry talents within a range of nearly a hundred light-years, who work together seamlessly and have rich experience. Bringing newcomers in now will not provide much help, but only sacrifice more people. If the current team can’t handle the task, neither can adding more people.”
James Wright was not recklessly stubborn.
In the instant of giving the answer, he had already conducted a comprehensive assessment and consideration of the situation in his mind.
The Empire’s high-level officials agreed with Wright’s judgment, quickly closed the registration channels, and rejected a large number of individual applications.
Upon seeing this, Wright let out a small sigh of relief.
He glanced again at the research institute staff and felt a mix of emotions.
As the director and the highest responsible person of the institute, Wright’s management system can observe the work status of every workstation throughout the entire institute.
Before his eyes was a vast three-dimensional organizational chart.
The chart appeared pyramid-shaped, composed of hundreds of thousands of stars.
James Wright himself was the top star.
Under his directorship, the chart split into dozens of groups, each containing a varying number of subgroups.
Beneath each subgroup, there were either further subgroups or specific individuals assigned to particular tasks.
Behind each person’s name and citizen code was a detailed description of their current workload, work status, psychological state, and various physiological parameters.
In the ten seconds that Wright’s attention was focused on the chart, the previously dimmed workstations gradually lit up again.
The flickering lights grew brighter, like wildfire spreading through mountains or like stars breaking through the dark clouds.
James Wright turned his face away, trying to calm his racing heart.
He didn’t want to pat himself on the back, but he couldn’t deny that by choosing to stay, these people who should have left were sharing the risk in his life.
Yes, his life, not just his existence.
He knew all too well the source of the ominous premonition he had earlier.
It was due to the risk calculated a few hours ago using new scanning techniques. The previously estimated 100% successful resurrection rate for the philosopher had slipped, and the loss was extremely fatal.
As the head of the project team, if the plan failed, he would have to bear the greatest responsibility.
The cost of such responsibility was enormous, far more than just his death could offset.
If the philosopher truly died this time and, as he himself predicted, his revival failed over two hundred years later, the entire human race would lose their highest combat power, spiritual leader, and the biggest variable in the war of civilizations.
This would be an indescribable blow to the entire human race.
It would not be just a spiritual blow, but a genuinely unbearable loss.
The name James Wright would be eternally synonymous with failure in the universe.
Living humans would remember one thing: the philosopher died because James Wright failed to complete his work.
After the extinction of mankind, the Compound-Eyed Observer and their mastermind would record this event in historical materials as a valuable lesson and a negative example.
James Wright had been striving for decades to prove that he was worthy of his name, so how could he allow his life to end in complete failure?
What Wright truly cared about was not his own life and death, but the success or failure of the mission.
Now that so many people had a change of heart, even if they only increased the probability of reaching a 100% success rate by one billionth, it was still of great significance.
James Wright thought for a moment and sent a message to everyone in the institute as the project leader.
“Everyone. Our chance of success is infinitely large, and the probability of failure is infinitesimally small. However, I know that the reason you have chosen to stay with me is that we cannot imagine or withstand the possibility of failure, even if it’s just a tiny chance!”
“Once embarked, there is no turning back. Since we have reached this stage, we can only release our light and heat to the fullest. Today, we will work side by side and give our all. Regardless of success or failure, humanity will remember that we once fought.”
He didn’t thank his colleagues.
He also didn’t throw around any ultimatum like other group leaders by saying anything like “success is the only option” that would only increase pressure.
James Wright’s brief speech became their final rallying cry.
The official countdown of two hours arrived, and the Main Ship, which was originally only six thousand kilometers away from the Corpse Planet, slowly started to move away.
The massive 20-kilometer diameter reverse thrust engine shells on the eighteen Worm Type 3 vessels began to slowly rotate and intersect.
Round after round of dark red light permeated from the junctions of these shells.
This was the manifestation of the propellant medium undergoing gradual heating and its energy levels slowly increasing.
Two hours later, the cylindrical Worm Type 3 would eject an almost invisible pale blue glow from its tail.
The pale blue glow was composed of high-energy plasma with extremely high mass density, which had been accelerated to the speed of light. Simply put, these were mass-carrying “photons” and the best physical propellant created by humans so far.
The external vibrations gradually transmitted to the Corpse Planet through the chains, but the internal stabilization system of the research institute perfectly counteracted the fluctuations, maintaining a stable environment inside.
