I Really Didn't Mean To Be The Saviour Of The World-Chapter 1035 - 633 Historical Sense_2
Chapter 1035: Chapter 633: Historical Sense_2
Chapter 1035 -633: Historical Sense_2
Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, nearly two hundred years have passed.
Once vibrant black hair has turned into a messy half-length silver, and even the eyebrows have turned white.
The once-handsome square face was now weighed down by heavy bags under the eyes, deep wrinkles, and covered in age spots like bullet wounds.
“I’ve grown old.”
Quentin Cooper took a deep breath and slumped down onto the couch.
In his heart, he thought, I have fulfilled my promise, dedicating my life wholeheartedly to the most noble cause of liberating humanity, and I have no regrets.
But every journey must come to an end, and I am too old.
I don’t know how much longer I can hold on, I am not even sure if I can make it to the day we arrive at the Galactic Center.
I hope that when the time comes, and the Great War is upon us, I am not facing my end.
Quentin, in a daze, gradually closed his eyes.
He was too exhausted and sleepy to complete the task he had set for himself, and fell into a deep slumber before checking the personnel list for the night shift.
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Time is the sharpest weapon in the universe; no matter how strong a person is, they can either gradually age and slowly march towards death under the tearing of time’s blade, or hide in cryogenic chambers, turning themselves from a person into an “object,” seeking time’s mercy by temporarily giving up life.
In the middle of the night, Quentin woke up from his dream.
At that point, his smart life assistant had already moved him to the bed, but he still remembered his condition before falling asleep, and couldn’t help but feel a surge of shame.
“That Dylan guy, I’m almost senile, and he’s still relying on me. Saying that wine gets better with age is bullshit.”
Quentin grumbled a couple of times, but somehow, the “historical experience” that Dylan Mitchell had emphasized repeatedly came to mind.
Driven by a mysterious impulse, Quentin decided to see what ancient books Dylan had read during his time pretending to be cryogenically frozen.
Rise from the Insignificant Era (1840-2049).
Upon seeing the title, Quentin was first taken aback, and then somewhat amused.
Since completing his studies at the military academy, he had seldom looked at historical records.
Even when researching, his perspective was usually limited to the six thousand years of war history.
Quentin was most proficient in the history of the new civilization after the establishment of the World Government.
He wasn’t too interested in old history.
In the years he was born, the most popular thought in the Voyager Galaxy, birthplace of many interstellar explorers, was to advocate for freedom, to take pride in entering the Starry Sea, and to pursue the highest efficiency in trade within the Empire and the further development of exploration capabilities.
At the time, human thinkers generally believed that, since they had already identified the enemy as an Alien Civilization, they should focus on how to deal with the enemy, and the different internal conflicts that occurred during old history, such as between races, skin colors, and social systems, had become irrelevant.
Under the influence of this mainstream thought, events between the years 1840 and 2049 belonged to the unimportant old history and were not valued.
After all, the technological background of the era was entirely different, and some of the past secular and racial concepts must also be discarded.
Quentin hesitated for a few seconds, almost giving up, but out of curiosity about Dylan’s change of thinking, the old man thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.
“Ten times acceleration, play.”
He never expected that this watch would last seven days and occupy almost all his free time.
Seven days later, Quentin turned back again to the first page of the historical records, “Original speed, play.”
Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, 135 days have passed.
Quentin has also gained dozens of book friends.
Not only did he read the text word by word, but he also replayed the image materials, which, in today’s eyes, could only be described as low-quality slides.
Quentin saw many things.The bewildered ancient nation was forced open by the ironclad ships of great powers.
In just a few decades, the population of four hundred million people drastically reduced to just over two hundred million due to internal strife and external invasions, leaving them in misery and homelessness.
The dignified 5,000-year-old civilization lost its dignity and freedom, with firearms destroying its moral backbone and opium eroding its will.
Weeds grew in cultivated lands, and nine out of ten households contained withered bones.
Countless wealth was plundered from the ancient nation, and children were born numb, only to wither away prematurely amid deprivation and hunger.
Over 90% of people had no idea why they were alive, let alone the fact that there were people who didn’t need to worry about their next meal.
The self-esteem of the Chinese nation had been eroded to the point where only a glimmer of hope remained, and the 5,000-year civilization was on the verge of collapse.
At this critical moment of life and death, the emaciated lion roared in revolt.
Another turbulent few decades passed, and after 1949, the people of the ancient nation finally realized that ordinary people had the right to own land, that they could exchange their own crops for other necessities of life if they had surplus, and that no one should be born a slave.
But the lion, just freed from the bloody battle, remained weak and susceptible to torment, wariness, temptation, and contempt. People brandished their butcher’s knives in front of its doorstep, flaunting their prowess.
Some spread “small freedoms” under its roof, while others held them in one hand while using their hidden hand to grasp green paper and slander, stirring up unrest and burying justice. The chaos of the times was rampant, as evil hovered.
On its staggering path forward, the lion had to face not only external enemies but also seemingly just, yet truly malevolent, “reasonable differences” within.
It was a difficult journey.
Time flew, and it was 2020 in a blink of an eye.
Finally, the children of the ancient civilization gradually understood the difference between “small freedoms” and “great freedoms,” and in 2049, they revealed to the entire human civilization, with their unstoppable national strength, what the right path was.
At this small book club about learning from history, Quentin Cooper said: “Historical lessons teach us that technology is the fuel for advancing civilization, but thoughts are the guiding rudder. Mankind has progressed too rapidly, especially our fleet, which has been fixated on our final goal while forgetting to look back at what we’ve left behind. Forgetting history equals betraying civilization! The disorder of the Free Will Alliance stems from this! Sharpening the knife doesn’t hinder chopping wood; if we had begun with ideological work, such a tragedy would not have occurred. I don’t deny everyone’s right to pursue self-actualization, but there must be a precondition – human civilization needs to have developed to a point where no risk or turmoil can endanger its survival. Only then will people have the right to do as they wish and become who they want to be. Pursuing pure gratification of self before its time is an act of betrayal to civilization!”
The others in the book club nodded their heads in approval.
No matter which galaxy these people came from, what body shape or skin color they had, or what varying characters they possessed, they could not deny the lessons of history.
“Starting tomorrow, we will re-discuss and come up with a feasible plan.”
Quentin announced the end of the meeting.
Back in his room, Quentin checked the condition of Dylan Mitchell in the cryogenic chamber.
He smiled contentedly.
A father’s greatest dream is not to achieve greatness but to see his children surpass him.
As Quentin had no offspring in the fleet, Dylan was both his student and his child.
Quentin murmured to himself, “Silly boy, you’ve already surpassed me.”
Dylan chose to protect Quentin by sacrificing himself, not because he thought his abilities were inferior to his teacher, but because he saw the over 240-year-old man as a living history.
Quentin rose through the ranks during the empire’s first sudden battle deep in its territory, witnessed the rapid decline of a huge, prosperous galaxy under the surprise attack of the Compound-Eyed Observer, and later fought valiantly in frontline galaxies.
When voiced by Quentin, the same words carried a much more profound sense of history compared to those spoken by leaders of the second and third generations like Dylan.
To teach a collective consciousness to the fleet, historical sense was indispensable, rather than skillful rhetoric.
Only Quentin could offer this.
Dylan saw it all clearly.
Quentin decided to delegate more tasks to others.
As for himself, he would step back and become one of the spiritual leaders.
“I will teach everyone a good lesson and hold on until you wake up. I will build the best fleet for you to inherit.”
These were the last thoughts of Quentin before he fell asleep.
