Chapter 509 - 318: Saints of the Tower of Babel, I Will Make You Saints

Having completed the swap, Han Feng silently returned to the shadows, preparing to lie in wait.

Beside the core instrument, an old man and a young man were talking.

Han Feng didn’t get close. Instead, he hid within the Sword Tomb Space, listening to their conversation with perfect clarity.

"The efficiency is still too low."

The young researcher curled his lip, his tone disdainful. "Director, the quality of this batch of Sea Beasts is terrible. The conversion rate is less than 3%, and there are too many impurities.

At this rate, it will take at least another half a month to deliver ten thousand units."

The old man, addressed as the Director, sighed.

"There’s nothing to be done. The nearby High Tier Sea Beasts have nearly been wiped out. All that’s left is the small fry. Maintaining our current output is already our limit."

"Which is why I said you need to consider that other proposal."

The young researcher turned, his eyes glinting with a rational yet horrifying light.

"You saw the data from the first batch. The crystals made by absorbing those adventurers and the Titan Squad were a whole tier higher in purity and activity than our current products."

"This is the advantage of primates."

The young man extended a finger, tapping it in the empty air.

"The structure of a human’s Divine Soul is far more intricate than these beasts’. Their Spiritual Power is the most perfect raw material."

"Watch your words!" The old Director’s expression changed slightly.

"What’s there to be afraid of? Everyone here is one of us."

The young researcher shrugged nonchalantly. "Director, don’t forget, we are the elite of the Tower of Babel, pioneers seeking a path for humanity’s survival."

At the mention of the "Tower of Babel," a fanatical arrogance appeared on his face.

"In ten years, the great calamity will arrive. What can those failures who can’t even break through to Tier Four do, other than be cannon fodder?"

"Instead of letting them waste resources, we should ’recycle the waste’ now."

The young researcher’s voice was low, yet it held an undeniable excitement.

"We don’t need to drain them dry all at once. That would be too wasteful.

We can establish a ’Spiritual Blood Bank.’

Every month, we extract 30% of their Spiritual Origin, give them a little money, a little ’honor,’ and the dirt-caked masses at the bottom will be fighting each other to sign up."

"This way, we can obtain a continuous supply of high-quality Divine Soul Crystals to cultivate true elites—the powerhouses who can fight against higher dimensions."

"This, this is what’s truly for the good of all humanity."

The old Director took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Xiaozhang, your ideas are too radical, and too dangerous..."

But the young researcher cut him off, puffed out his chest, and said proudly:

"Teacher, you’re just being too hesitant!"

"What we are doing is a necessary optimization for the continuation of civilization!"

"I’m from the research institute of the Tower of Babel. We pursue absolute efficiency and the optimal solution. In my opinion, this *is* the optimal solution!"

The old man opened his mouth, but in the end, all that came out was a long sigh. He didn’t argue further.

Seeing this, the young researcher’s lips curled into a smug smile.

He knew his teacher had tacitly agreed.

Because this was, indeed, the most efficient method.

However, at his moment of peak smugness, a sharp pain exploded from his tailbone, shooting up his spine straight to the crown of his head.

He trembled violently, every hair on his body standing on end.

"What’s wrong?" the old man asked, seeing his pale face.

"N-nothing."

The young researcher rubbed his arms, forcing himself to stay calm. "Maybe... it’s just too damp and cold in this cave."

"Hm. We’ll head up and rest after we finish observing this last batch."

The young researcher also wanted to attribute it to the environment, but he couldn’t shake off the terrifying feeling of being pinned to the spot.

He subconsciously looked back toward the empty shadows behind him.

There was nothing there.

From the shadows, Han Feng watched the young researcher quietly. The self-righteous fanaticism on the man’s face was almost laughable.

’The Tower of Babel.’

’For the continuation of civilization, seeking a path forward.’

’How noble, how grandiose it all sounds.’

’But peel back that gorgeous coat, and all you find inside is the most primitive, most bloodthirsty logic of man eating man.’

’Treating the lower classes as crops to be harvested at will, using their Spiritual Origin as fertilizer to cultivate so-called ’elites.’’

’And they themselves, perched high above, play the role of saviors.’

’For the good of all humanity...’

Han Feng repeated the phrase to himself, but his eyes were devoid of any emotion.

’I’ve seen too many people like this.’

’They always love to stand on the moral high ground, using grand narratives to cover up their own filthy desires.’

’Kill them?’

’That’s letting them off too easy.’

’Besides, it would immediately alert the Kunlun Holy City and tip our hand.’

Han Feng watched the young man, who was still gloating over his own "genius idea," as a more interesting thought slowly formed in his mind.

’You believe that for the greater good, some must always be sacrificed, don’t you?’

’You believe that becoming nourishment for the elites is a kind of honor, don’t you?’

’If that’s the case, how could you let others hog all the glory from such a wonderful opportunity?’

The corner of Han Feng’s mouth curved into a playful arc.

’As pioneers of human civilization, you... should also get to enjoy this ’honor,’ right?’

He decided he would personally help these elites of the Tower of Babel realize the grand ideals they so loved to preach.

...

Time ticked by, second by second.

Another batch of Divine Soul Crystals was produced, packed, and shipped out.

Han Feng repeated his earlier trick, pulling off the same switch. He replaced the "genuine articles" in the crate with his [Borrowed Path Sword Seed].

After doing all this, he didn’t leave in a hurry. Instead, like the most patient of hunters, he lay in wait in the darkness, waiting for the moment his prey was most relaxed.