I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World

Chapter 122: Chapter 108: Hello, General_3

Translator: 549690339

In order to ensure that his highest principles would not be shaken by future generations, Sergey even threatened them in his will.

He hid an explosive source deep in the Earth’s core that was powerful enough to blow the Earth into cosmic debris.

Once someone tries to crack his explosive source, it will explode on the spot.

If the artificial intelligence lurking in the smart network determines that the World Government leadership has closed the space for the lower-class people to rise, it will still explode on the spot.

In Harrison Clark’s view, this was Sergey’s greatest contribution, because his threat was really effective.

Under such a special social background, all Earthlings were in the most fierce competition, and those who fell behind could only go to the slums to eat coarse food and let others trample on their dignity.

From the slums emerged countless scientists, economists, generals, elite warriors, top craftsmen, artists…

As long as you have the ability and the will, you can get everything you want.

If you are lazy and incompetent, even if your ancestors have accumulated wealth for you for dozens of generations, it is useless. If your ability is not enough to support your status and wealth, you will still be gnawed away by others in just a few decades, leaving nothing behind.

The upper-class and the slum-class are clearly distinct, yet highly correlated, constantly penetrating and replacing each other.

The structure of the entire society is very dynamic and full of vitality.

Harrison Clark felt that Sergey’s achievements were almost on par with his own.

When he committed suicide, he must have foreseen the social framework for hundreds of years to come, all built on his crazy actions.

Planting a bomb in the Earth and temporarily replacing one threat with another to form this deformed but effective social structure.

This operation was really amazing, truly worthy of being a mad scientist.

Harrison Clark even thought that Sergey might do better than himself in this job, and he would have chosen him if he had the chance.

By the early 29th century, after Watson Gesslaf invented gene liquid technology, this cruelty had been taken to the extreme.

One-third of the “incompetent” people were stripped of their right to live at birth.

The final result, to some extent, met the expectations of Harrison Clark who had left behind the seeds, but it was also a history written with even more blood and tears.

Everyone was wound up to the breaking point, but still hidden was the truth of the end of the world. Each person was numbly struggling like a machine, without knowing what they were struggling for.

After reading these historical materials, especially after seeing those tragedies, Harrison Clark, who was not Sergey after all, struggled to control his emotions.

He would even involuntarily look down at his own hands.

If you were to indirectly attribute all those lives lost in wars or under the system to him, Harrison Clark might have become the most prolific serial killer in human history.

But eventually, he calmed down.

Those who have passed away are gone, and only those who are alive can talk about continuing.

No matter how difficult the process or how much blood was shed, the technology level of mankind is indeed much higher now.

The Azure Dragon Armor, Type III Loader, Oscillating Knife, explosive bombs below the crotch, and battlecruiser-level escort ships he had experienced last time had all appeared in history. They were all widely used technologies from the 28th to the 29th centuries and have become obsolete now.

He was busy without sleep for a whole night, and it was not until the next day when he was about to meet Nora Camp that his mood completely calmed down.

Time and fate are really magical.

The inertia of history is also powerful.

Even after playing with a thousand years of time and distorting it beyond recognition, he could still see so many familiar faces.

He didn’t know whether Nora Camp’s fate was hard or his own fate was too good.

Knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

“Hello, General, I am Harrison Clark.”

Harrison Clark looked at the black and white chess pieces and the chessboard on Nora Camp’s desk, and slowly said..