Rejecting Tsinghua and Peking Universities: I Will Lead Harbin Institute of Technology to World Lead

As Lin Feng continued to study the hidden origins within the Time-Space Gate and the Space Jump, his consciousness was immersed in that pale world. More than ninety cosmic origins continuously released invisible ripples during the fusion of the Time-Space Gate and the Space Jump. He had already touched the edge of the cosmic origin, and was only one step away from seeing its true face.

Just then, a sound from the outside suddenly pierced through the barrier of the system simulation space. It was the piercing ring of an emergency communication system, a method of contact only used in the most critical moments. Lin Feng's consciousness was forcibly pulled out of the system simulation space. The laboratory lights gradually came into focus, but his brows were already furrowed.

His assistant interrupted him abruptly, and had Lin Feng walk out of the system simulation space.

The lab door opened, and the assistant stood in the doorway, pale-faced, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead, his breathing rapid and erratic. His hands trembled slightly, clearly indicating he had rushed over in extreme tension and anxiety. As Lin Feng's assistant, he had seen many storms and experienced countless crises, but his expression at this moment told Lin Feng—this time was different; this time, something truly serious had happened.

"What happened?" Lin Feng asked in a deep voice, noticing his assistant's grim expression. His voice was calm, but his gaze had sharpened. Something that could cause his assistant to lose his composure like this was no ordinary battlefield defeat or fleet loss.

"President Lin, something terrible has happened. Our fleet was attacking a galaxy when it suddenly lost all contact. They didn't send any images or messages back, and their coordinates have been erased. We have no way of finding where they disappeared."

The assistant's voice was hurried and trembling, each word laced with barely concealed tension. He inserted the data crystal into the holographic projector, and sets of data unfolded in the air.

The holographic projection displayed the final record of the Twelfth Expeditionary Fleet. It was a powerful fleet consisting of ten thousand Death Ships and one hundred thousand Death Armor, equipped with the most advanced weapons and defense systems of human civilization. The commander was the experienced veteran Wang Zhen, who had conquered dozens of galaxies and had never suffered a defeat.

They were ordered to carry out a conquest mission to a supergalactic galaxy deep in space. That galaxy was fifty times the size of the Milky Way, rich in stellar resources and rare minerals, and a key target in humanity's conquest plan. Everything was normal before the fleet set off: the communication systems were functioning well, the navigation coordinates were accurate, and all preparations were flawless.

On the third day after their departure, the fleet reached the outer edge of the target river system and, as usual, sent back a routine report. The report stated everything was normal; no anomalies were found, no threat signals were detected, and the fleet was about to enter the river system to begin their conquest operation. This was their last message.

From that moment on, the Twelfth Expeditionary Fleet vanished completely. No distress signals, no battle reports, no images transmitted back. Ten thousand Deathships and one hundred thousand Death Armor suits, along with one hundred thousand of the most elite human warriors, simply evaporated into space without a trace. It was as if they had never existed, as if that galaxy had never existed at all.

Even more bizarrely, the fixed coordinates set before the fleet's departure were also erased. These coordinates were quantum-level positioning data, theoretically impossible to be interfered with or destroyed by natural factors. Yet they simply vanished, completely erased from the navigation system, from the database, and from everyone's memory by an invisible force.

The engineers of human civilization tried everything—recalculating coordinates, tracking the energy residue from space jumps, analyzing changes in the cosmic microwave background radiation. But all efforts were in vain; the location of that galaxy became a blank slate, with no way to find it and no technology to pinpoint it.

Upon hearing this, Lin Feng's expression turned serious; he hadn't expected such a thing to happen so suddenly.

He stood before the holographic projection, his gaze fixed on the data and images, his brow furrowed deeply. Ten thousand death ships, one hundred thousand Death Grim Reaper armors, one hundred thousand of the most elite warriors—vanished just like that. No battle, no cries for help, no trace whatsoever. Such a thing had never happened before in the history of human civilization's conquests.

Humanity has conquered hundreds of galaxies, encountered all sorts of enemies and disasters, but each time there were traces to be left. Battles produced reports, disasters produced signals, and even total annihilation left behind wreckage and debris. But this time, there was nothing. The Twelfth Expeditionary Fleet was as if wiped from the universe by an invisible giant hand, leaving not even a speck of dust behind.

Such incidents either involve encountering a powerful enemy or an irreversible disaster, similar to when the Second Expeditionary Force was swept into space and transported to a parallel universe.

Two possibilities flashed through Lin Feng's mind.

The first possibility is an enemy. An enemy powerful enough to destroy ten thousand death warships and one hundred thousand death armors in an instant; an enemy powerful enough to erase all traces and coordinates; an enemy powerful enough that even the most advanced detection technology of human civilization cannot detect its existence. If such an enemy exists, its strength would far surpass the Divine Tree, far surpass the Blood Demon Civilization, and might even approach the will of the universe itself.

The second possibility is a catastrophe. An irreversible spatial catastrophe, similar to the spatial rift that swept the Second Expeditionary Force into a parallel universe. Such a catastrophe could wipe a fleet out of the universe in an instant, throwing them into another dimension. If this were the case, the warriors of the Twelfth Expeditionary Fleet might still be alive, but trapped in some unknown parallel universe, just like Lin Sibin back then.

Either way, the outcome is catastrophic. If it's a powerful enemy, human civilization will face an unprecedented threat. If it's a space catastrophe, it means there are dangerous regions in the universe that humanity has yet to understand, where any fleet could be swallowed up without warning.

"We must get our expeditionary force back as soon as possible, whether they have encountered the enemy or something else; we must find out the truth."

Lin Feng decisively issued the order and then recalled all the expeditionary forces.

His voice echoed in the command center, firm and decisive. Faced with an unknown threat, the wisest choice was not to continue taking risks, but to consolidate forces, concentrate resources, and figure out what was happening.

Commands flew rapidly through the communication channels. The First Expeditionary Force was urgently recalled from the super-river system deep in space. The Second Expeditionary Force was returning at full speed from the desolate river system at the edge of space. The Third Expeditionary Force, the Fourth Expeditionary Force, the Fifth Expeditionary Force… all fleets on missions abroad were ordered to cease operations and return to the solar system immediately.

Fleets after fleet, from every corner of the universe, returned to the solar system via space jumps. Half a million death ships were arrayed on the outer edge of the solar system, their silver hulls covering the entire starry sky. One and a half million Death Grim Reaper armored vehicles stood ready in military bases, black steel giants standing silently.

All the expeditionary forces returned, except for the Twelfth Expeditionary Force.

Next, Lin Feng planned to locate the missing expeditionary force and see what had happened.

Lin Feng stood before the holographic projection in the command center, his gaze sweeping over the returning fleets, yet a heavy weight remained in his heart. The Twelfth Expeditionary Force's ten thousand warships and one hundred thousand armored vehicles, along with one hundred thousand soldiers, had vanished. They had to be found, they had to be rescued, and what had happened had to be uncovered.

"Pass down the order." Lin Feng's voice was deep and firm. "Form a search fleet, led by myself. Equip it with the most advanced detection equipment and the strongest combat force. I want to personally find the location where the Twelfth Expeditionary Force disappeared. I want to see with my own eyes what exactly happened there."

"President Lin, this is too dangerous." First Commander Lao Zhou stepped forward, his face full of worry. "If there really is a powerful enemy there, if there really is an irreversible spatial disaster—you cannot risk it yourself. Let me lead the team."

Lin Feng shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "No, I'll go myself. If there are enemies there, I need to see their strength with my own eyes. If there's a spatial catastrophe there, I need to feel its power firsthand. Only I can determine what it is, and only I can find the whereabouts of the Twelfth Expeditionary Force."

Old Zhou fell silent. He knew Lin Feng was right. Lin Feng was the most intelligent person in human civilization, the only one capable of deciphering the secrets of the universe's origin, and the only one possibly able to comprehend that kind of power. If even Lin Feng couldn't figure out what happened there, then no one in human civilization could.

"Prepare the shuttle." Lin Feng turned around and strode towards the spaceport. "Search fleet, depart in one hour. Target—the location where the Twelfth Expeditionary Force disappeared."

In the starry sky, the sun, a thousand times larger than itself, shone with intense light. The light illuminated the preparing search fleet, the returning expeditionary force, and the solemn faces of every human warrior.

Twelfth Expeditionary Force, where are you? What happened to you? Are you still alive?

Lin Feng boarded the shuttle, gazing through the porthole at the unknown starry sky, his eyes gleaming with unwavering determination. No matter where you are, no matter what you encounter—humanity will not abandon you. I will find you, I will bring you home.