I Really Didn t Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World

Chapter 899: Chapter 542: Death is Life_1

Productivity is the foundation of everything.

The level of productivity is determined by technology and the “vast majority of people’s” mental state.

The so-called mental state is actually the collective thought of contemporary people.

Art is the derivative manifestation of technology, productivity, and the collective thoughts.

Art is the product of its time, yet transcends the constraints of its era.

Good art can lead civilization forward.

In 2206, after the conclusion of the new session of human leadership, Harrison Clark ordered that, since the leaders of the extra-solar colonies could no longer return to Earth for meetings, future meetings would be held online using the Quantum Network.

Physical meetings would be held every ten years within the Solar System, mainly to convey the spirit, and he would personally inspect the situations of some people and promote some to important positions.

By now, Harrison Clark’s life experiences were rich enough, and he had seen countless births, aging, sickness, and deaths, so his understanding of human nature had reached unimaginable depths for ordinary people.

Even natural-born movie stars could not hide in front of him.

Over the years, he did not merely portray a kind old man.

Although the vast majority of people were trustworthy, there were always some who could not control the dark side of their hearts when the number of people increased.

These people were not satisfied with ordinary social recognition, and they longed to dominate the lives of others like Harrison himself.

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If it was just the strong dominating the weak by mutual consent, Harrison wouldn’t say anything.

But some people are always reckless, breaking the rules, trampling the law, and harming innocent people.

At this time, the Quantum Surveillance Network, established by Harrison Clark himself, would come into play.

He personally ordered the arrest and disposal of nearly ten thousand people.

In order to avoid the stifling of creativity by an absolute military regime of civilization, he personally controlled the monitoring network.

After his death, he will bury this monitoring network in the dust of history and order his successors not to activate it.

…

Time has unknowingly reached 2245, and Harrison Clark has only 55 years left in his life.

Human colonists have already established colonies in nearby star systems such as Centaurus.

In the previous timeline, the Salvation Association implemented the Happiness Plan at this point in time, to eliminate some of the backward and stubborn people.

However, Harrison has already carried this out beforehand.

According to the Millennium Plan’s prediction, the population sent by Harrison to Australia at the beginning would have almost completely disappeared by 2245.

Now, there is no need for the Happiness Plan.

Carrie Thomas saved the fallen ones with her efforts and brought new changes to Harrison as well.

More than fifty years passed in the blink of an eye.

By the year 2300, Harrison Clark was finally coming to the end of his life.

He slightly misjudged one thing.

He originally thought he had about 300 years left to live.

Now he sees that after 280 years, he is nearing the end, and this cannot be defied.

Perhaps he has been living too hard and suffering too much in these years, and even the perfect Galactic Humans can’t withstand such exploitation.

It may also be that his initial estimate of his life expectancy was still too hasty and inaccurate.

Who knows?

It doesn’t matter.

Interestingly, although Harrison can perceive the edge of his life, he still looks like a middle-aged man.

He is still young, but he knows that he is indeed dying soon.

In the past few months, his once invincible memory, almost like a burned CD, has gradually faded.

He suddenly forgets many things, and his memories become more and more blurry.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that his eyes are dimming with age.

After all, he has lived for more than four hundred years in total.

As the longest-lived person in ten timelines, he has lived too long.

His brain has been running at full capacity non-stop for more than 400 years, and even a machine would age by now.

On this afternoon, he lies quietly on a beach chair in the Oxfordshire villa courtyard.

The sky is golden at sunset.

The elm trees in the courtyard rustle their branches in the autumn wind.

Golden leaves fall like snowflakes.Outside the walls of Harrison Clark’s residence, millions of people stood densely packed together.

The expressions on their faces were full of sorrow, with a hint of confusion.

Two hundred years remained until the 2500th year.

The next two hundred years would be crucial.

But humanity had lost its leader, who had guided the way and lit the beacon for the world.

Even the greatest person could not withstand the passage of time.

How to proceed next was up to humanity itself.

At this point, Harrison Clark still had not explicitly told the world that he would be resurrected, and he was deliberately hiding the matter.

He didn’t want too many “Harrison Clark” to appear in this thirty-first century.

These people should have had different fates, utilized their talents in the most suitable positions, rather than living for others as backup soul carriers.

Harrison Clark also believed that humans in this timeline would no longer need to place all their hope in his time-traveling and world-saving in the thirty-first century.

Humanity this time would be very strong.

He had confidence in that.

Finally, a ferocious fire suddenly blazed up from the bottom of Harrison Clark’s Oxfordshire residence.

This was his prearranged plan.

He told the world that he would choose cremation, without the need for monuments or graves, and certainly not needing people to abandon their work to pay their respects each year.

For later generations, he had only one request: Do well in your own lives.

Standing outside the residence, people clasped their hands together and held them by their thighs, looking up at the towering flames.

No one saluted or cried.

People just watched solemnly.

In the vast Oxfordshire plain, apart from the crackling sound of the flames, there was dead silence.

After a long time, the flames gradually subsided, leaving only a patch of white ashes covering an area of more than eighty acres.

No one knew who started it.

In the crowd, the sound of a heavy fist pounding on one’s chest suddenly rang out.

Then, a gruff, hoarse voice loudly said, “I’m grateful to the sage for guiding my path. In this life, I will not disappoint him. I will dedicate my life to the cause of humanity’s eternal survival, just like the sage, until I die!”

Once these words were spoken, many echoed the sentiment.

People chose vows instead of tears.

Harrison Clark had never promoted the title of “sage.”

But some things seemed inevitable.

Just as he died,

The name “sage” spread throughout civilization.

…

“Star? What year is it? And where the hell am I?”

In a spacious, bright room filled with a feminine atmosphere, Harrison Clark looked puzzled as he sat up straight in the lounge chair, turned his head to look at the girl in red beside him, and asked with a baffled expression.

If he remembered correctly, he should have just passed away peacefully.

Star would follow his instructions and create the illusion of a cremation.

In fact, his body would be transported all the way to the Earth’s core through a secret underground base and be frozen there.

Of course, his body could not be burnt.

In case something happened to the Solar System again, perhaps it would be needed for his “resurrection” in the 31st century.

So now, he should be waking up directly in the 31st century.

He believed that there would only be two scenarios for waking up.

First, as a private soldier named Chen Feng, he would appear directly at the Black Bear Training Base.

Second, waking up frozen in an ice coffin in an underground base.

But what the hell was this?

What kind of a ghostly room was this?

Pink mosquito net, pink bedding, a cute-style comic mural on the wall, and the mischievous red-dressed girl beside him, Star.

Mr. Clark was confused.