Genius Club

This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation

At Donghai University Rhine Joint Laboratory, the time travel machine was almost complete. Everything was ready except for the calibration module. Tomorrow, when the comet passed by Earth, bringing Astatine-339, they would finally be able to initiate time travel.

Thanks to Gao Wen, the last part of the machine was completed quickly. Liu Feng looked at Gao Wen with admiration, his eyes practically sparkling. “Professor Gao, you’re a real lifesaver!”

“No, no,” Gao Wen quickly shook his head, almost like a rattle drum, and gave a modest bow. “Professor Liu, it’s all because of the groundwork you’ve done. I was just building on the shoulders of giants.”

“Professor Gao, you’re being too humble. It was your effort that got us here!” Liu Feng said, bowing back.

“Professor Liu, you’re giving me too much credit. As a junior, it’s an honor to help out,” Gao Wen insisted, bowing yet again.

“Professor Gao!” Liu Feng bowed a fourth time.

“Professor Liu!” Gao Wen bowed a fifth time.

Lin Xian stepped forward, positioning himself between the two, and gently pulled them apart. “Alright, alright, enough of this bowing back and forth, you two. Let’s focus on what’s important.” He then turned his attention to the time travel machine.

The completed machine looked almost exactly like what he’d seen in the Eighth Dream. Even though Gao Wen suggested that they could use a direct connection to the power grid, Liu Feng insisted on building it based on Gao Wen’s original designs, as a tribute to the work they had already done.

Lin Xian placed his hand on the cold metal surface, the gesture mirroring what he’d done in the Eighth Dream. They had finally made it. The sacrifices, the sleepless nights, all of it had led them to this point. This was their last chance—to travel back to 1952 and find a way to change everything.

“This is our last hope,” Lin Xian whispered, closing his eyes. Today was December 9th, 2234.

Ever since he’d woken up from hibernation, Lin Xian had ridden his motorcycle every night, exploring the few places that still held possibilities. But after going through every area, he hadn’t found a single soul. There were no more sources of information from the dream world. He had even considered finding Mai Mai’s hibernation chamber in 2234, thinking it might create a link between 2234 and 2624, allowing him to communicate between the timelines.

If that worked, he could buy the entire underground hibernation base, put his safe there, and then access it again in the Ninth Dream. But two issues stood in his way. First, Mai Mai was only twelve years old in 2234, and she wouldn’t enter hibernation for another five years. He couldn’t interfere with her life—changing her future might mean she never went into hibernation, or did so somewhere else, cutting them off from their lead.

Second, her hibernation chamber’s location could change over the centuries. His and Gao Yang’s chambers had once been in the Capital City Research Institute, but they’d ended up in Donghai City when they woke up. There was no way to guarantee that the underground base in 2234 would still be there in 2624. It was likely that the base wouldn’t last that long, and Mai Mai’s hibernation chamber would be relocated multiple times in those four centuries. It was even possible that the base hadn’t been built yet in 2234.

Because of this, that plan had to be abandoned. Lin Xian also made a visit to Time Bank, where he learned that Gauss’s anti-hibernation virus had pushed the bank to the edge of bankruptcy. It didn’t matter though—Zhao Ying Jun’s immense wealth and control of three major companies kept Time Bank afloat, with some financial assistance.

Now, backed by Donghai University, Time Bank was financially stable. When the anti-hibernation virus had finally disappeared, hibernation became popular again, and Time Bank’s business took off.

Lin Xian visited Time Bank’s warehouse, standing before safe number 66 for a while. He knew the Spacetime Particle Capturer, the “rice cooker,” was still inside, along with the note Chu An Qing had left him before she died. But without being able to locate the safe in the Ninth Dream, that option was lost.

So the only path left was the time travel machine—they had to go back to 1952. That was their last hope: to find out the truth behind the Millennial Stake, the secrets of the Genius Club, Einstein’s knowledge, and how Zhang Yu Qian’s dream connected to the World-Ending White Light.

“Everything depends on tomorrow,” Lin Xian said to himself, his gaze drifting to Gao Wen and Liu Feng, who had somehow started bowing to each other again.

“Tomorrow, the comet with Astatine-339 will enter the atmosphere,” Lin Xian continued. “All the world’s major powers have been preparing for years—they’re ready to launch orbital nukes to break it apart.”

“Otherwise, if that comet hits—it’s over ten kilometers across—it could cause an impact like the one that wiped out the dinosaurs.”

Lin Xian explained how the nations would shatter the comet into thousands of fragments, which would turn into meteors. Where and when those fragments might fall was unpredictable. But even if some of them hit, they’d only leave a few craters—nothing that would spell the end of humanity.

“To be the first to get our hands on Astatine-339, we’ll need Elon Musk’s help. I’m going to America now. You two stay here and keep testing the machine,” Lin Xian instructed.

“Elon Musk will use his resources to secure Astatine-339 for us. I’ll bring it back, and we can start our time travel mission,” he added determinedly.

The next day, at Space-X’s third launch base in America, it was still pitch-black, the early hours of the morning. In X Country, it was already noon, but in America, the night was alive with people. Crowds had gathered, all looking up at the sky, waiting for a comet that had been 157 years in the making.

“Einstein was right,” Elon Musk said, leaning against the railing of an observation tower that rose hundreds of meters high. He turned to Lin Xian, who was standing beside him.

“March 27th, 2077—that’s the exact date we detected it. Not even a day off. Our space telescopes spotted the comet, and its light spectrum revealed unknown substances, sparking a century-long wait for humanity,” Musk explained.

The comet’s path was quickly calculated—it was hurtling through space at a speed no human-made object could match, destined to collide with Earth in 2234.

“Not ‘arrive’ exactly,” Musk said with a wry smile. “More like ‘crash.’ But we humans have long since learned how to use nukes in space. Blowing up an asteroid or comet? Easy.”

He pointed up, and Lin Xian followed his gaze. “See up there? You can already spot it with the naked eye.”

Sure enough, in the southern sky, a massive, bright comet was streaking across the sky, moving at incredible speed. It looked huge—almost like some divine being descending from above. There was no mistaking it for a simple meteor.

Its tail shimmered with seven colors, lighting up the night sky. “If we don’t destroy it, it’s a worldwide disaster,” Lin Xian muttered.

“Technology will save us,” he added. “Even without fancy aerospace tech, even with just rockets and missiles, humanity could have dealt with this threat. The only question was whether we’d blow it up before it entered the atmosphere or after. Human potential is limitless—we’re not like the dinosaurs, wiped out by a single asteroid.”

Musk glanced at his watch. “It’s about to start. Watch closely. This will be a key moment in human history.”

The nations had coordinated, rehearsing the plan over and over. They would attack the comet from multiple angles, using a saturation approach—216 orbital nukes launched from satellites, space stations, rockets, and crewed spacecraft.

“Two hundred and sixteen nukes?” Lin Xian exclaimed. “This has to be the biggest military operation humanity’s ever attempted. But yeah, if we want to be absolutely sure, a saturation attack is the safest bet.”

“They don’t all need to hit,” Musk said. “Just a few will be enough to shatter the comet and avert the crisis.”

“Look!” Musk handed Lin Xian a telescope. “You can already see hundreds of lights heading for the comet. It’s really something. The only thing that could compare was when Kevin Walker hijacked my satellites two hundred years ago to rain meteors on you!”

Lin Xian chuckled, accepting the telescope. “That was ages ago. Kevin Walker and Turing have been gone for two centuries, and you’re still holding a grudge?”

Through the telescope, Lin Xian saw hundreds of tiny lights—dozens of bright streaks—all converging on the comet from every direction. When they struck, there was a massive explosion.

It looked like a second sun had appeared in the night sky. But because the explosion was in space, everything was eerily silent, as if they were watching a movie with the sound turned off.

Through the telescope, the sight was spectacular. The comet had broken into countless fragments, turning into a shower of meteors. “They blew it apart,” Lin Xian said, watching as the sky filled with streaking lights.

The comet had vanished, leaving only fragments—the largest of which were just a few dozen meters wide. If any of them fell to Earth, they could do some damage, but that would be a job for ground forces to handle.

“Now it’s our turn,” Musk said, lowering the telescope with a grin. “I have to thank Angelica and her descendants. They’ve managed my company well. I wasn’t even this rich when I was the wealthiest man alive two hundred years ago.”

“I’ve hired every available resource worldwide. Wherever a meteor lands, it’ll be brought to me immediately,” Musk continued. “But with the way it shattered, some pieces might even fall here, in high-latitude America. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky, and one will land right on top of us!”

Lin Xian shook his head, laughing. “You’d better not jinx it. I’ve had enough bad luck with that sort of thing.”

As it turned out, Musk’s words were a jinx. Several small meteorites ended up falling in the wilderness near Space-X’s third launch base. Musk’s team quickly gathered them, ran radiation checks, and, once it was confirmed they were safe, brought them to his lab.

“It really does have Astatine-339,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Incredible. Just like Galileo predicted, it’s an isotope that shouldn’t exist on Earth—or even in this universe. The mysteries of space are truly beyond our imagination.”

Lin Xian nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, we think of the universe as mysterious, but to the universe, we might be just as strange. In the end, maybe it’s just different physical constants creating differences between universes.”

Lin Xian turned to Elon, a hint of urgency in his voice. “Can you separate the pure Astatine-339? I need to get it back to Donghai and start the time machine.”

Elon nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. This element is frighteningly stable. It doesn’t react with anything. We can physically separate it—even using tweezers.”

An hour later, Lin Xian was aboard Elon’s private jet, soaring towards Donghai in X Country. The plane touched down directly at Donghai University’s airport, and Lin Xian hurried to the lab, the precious vial of Astatine-339 safely in his hands.

Liu Feng’s eyes widened as he looked at the vial, awe etched across his face. “So this is it… We’ve waited over two hundred years, and finally, it’s here.”

Gao Wen was already examining the element with various instruments. “This isotope… it’s unbelievably stable. Astatine-339 would be impossible under our universe’s atomic structure—it would break down instantly into other elements.”

“But that’s what makes it perfect for calibrating our time machine’s module,” Gao Wen said, his eyes bright with excitement as he looked at Liu Feng. “Professor Liu, your foresight is nothing short of genius. Designing a module that could use this element as a calibration point, even centuries ago… You truly are the greatest genius in human history!”

Liu Feng blushed at the praise and quickly bowed. “No, no, Professor Gao, you’re the one I’ve admired my whole life!”

“Alright, enough of that,” Lin Xian said, rolling his eyes. “Are you two done yet? You’re both nearly forty—try to act like it. Let’s get the time machine ready. Now, where’s my otter fur travel suit?”

“Right here,” Gao Yang walked over, carrying a bag. “You wanted something casual and practical, right?”

Lin Xian nodded, inspecting the bag. “The old suits were tight black outfits. That was fine for women, but for me, it’d just be awkward. If I showed up in 1952 looking like that, they’d probably arrest me for being a weirdo. So, is it as loose as I asked?”

Gao Yang grinned. “Trust me.” He pulled out the clothes, showing them off. “White otter fur shirt, black trousers. Casual, practical. You could wear this from 1950 to 2950 and still look good.”

Liu Feng raised an eyebrow. “White otter fur? Are there even white otters?”

Gao Yang smirked. “Albino otters! Not many in the world. I went overseas to collect some. The Otter Protection Society threatened to break my legs.” He laughed. “As if they could scare me. I’m the chief of security at Donghai University—do they think my ten thousand men are just for show?”

Lin Xian tried on the suit after a quick shower. It fit well—comfortable, with sturdy stitching from otter tendons. The soft white and black ensemble felt good as he moved, and he gave a satisfied nod as he returned to the lab.

“Are we ready?” Lin Xian asked, looking at Liu Feng, Gao Yang, and Gao Wen.

Liu Feng and Gao Yang nodded. “Everything’s set. Just waiting on you.”

Gao Wen, standing by the machine, inserted an entangled spacetime particle into the machine and activated the positioning module. Liu Feng pulled Lin Xian aside, speaking in a low, serious tone.

“Lin Xian, before you go, I need to make three things absolutely clear.”

“Go ahead.”

Liu Feng held up one finger. “First, even though the spacetime particles allow flexibility, you cannot do anything that could alter the timeline. Your mission requires you to return, and if the timeline shifts, you won’t be able to come back.”

Lin Xian nodded gravely. “I understand.”

“Good,” Liu Feng said. “Second,” he raised a second finger, “although we know the particles allow travelers to return, we don’t know the specifics—or if there’s a time limit. You must complete your mission quickly. Once done, come back immediately.”

Lin Xian nodded again. “Got it.”

Liu Feng held up a third finger. “Third, thanks to reverse compulsion, you should be safe in 1952. But the time period is unpredictable. If you’re in danger, return immediately. Staying alive is the only way to keep fighting.”

Lin Xian gave a small smile. “Understood.”

Gao Wen called out that the machine was ready. Lin Xian moved towards it, and Gao Wen pointed at the screen, showing a tangled mass of lines.

“These spacetime rifts are all from the Millennial Stake’s puncturing,” Gao Wen explained. “The problem is, we can’t control the exact date or location you’ll arrive.”

Lin Xian looked at the mess of tangled lines on the screen. “So I could end up anywhere from October to December 1952?”

“Exactly,” Liu Feng added. “These rifts are like a maze. We can’t predict where you’ll exit. But based on probability, we think mid-November is the most likely. If you arrive before that, you might have time to find the Stake. But if you arrive in December, it might be too late.”

Lin Xian nodded. “I have three goals—the Stake, the Genius Club, and Einstein. Even if I only accomplish one of them, it’ll be a step forward.”

He clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Gao Yang approached Lin Xian, his palms sweaty. He grabbed Lin’s hand. “You better come back.”

Lin Xian smiled. “Don’t worry. I will.” He climbed into the capsule of the time machine, looking out at his friends. “This mission—to save the future—it’s all because of you. I won’t let you down.”

With that, the capsule door closed. Silence filled the room, and Lin Xian sat alone, the only sound his breathing and heartbeat.

He took a deep breath, feeling the machine begin to hum, the vibrations increasing.

“Let’s do this!” Lin Xian shouted.

BOOM!

A violent explosion echoed in Lin Xian’s mind. It felt like a singularity had exploded in his head, scattering everything before pulling it back into a whirling fireball, spinning faster than he could comprehend.

Suddenly, a black ape stood trembling on a grassy plain, upright as the sun rose from the horizon. The ape grabbed a shattered bone, wielding it like a weapon against the howling of other monkeys. It hurled the bone, and it transformed into a spear, piercing through the chest of an armored soldier.

Blood sprayed into the air, morphing into thick steam that rose higher and higher until it became a roaring freight train. The iron tracks vanished into smoke, and a jet, fierce and fast, broke through the clouds above.

The fractured sky split apart and became an endless ocean, and Lin Xian found himself sinking thousands of meters underwater. He felt breathless, yet his mind was eerily clear.

His subconscious struggled, reaching upward, yearning to break through and taste the air above. In the deep blue waters, he could see every detail, even the tiny microorganisms floating around like specimens. A white whale clashed with a giant squid, their battle shaking the ocean as bits of flesh scattered.

Suddenly, Lin Xian found himself shooting up from the water—but instead of water, he emerged onto dry land. He looked around to see a yellow plain filled with creatures from different eras: mammoths, dinosaurs, giraffes. Between their legs prowled saber-toothed tigers, apes, lizards—all moving together.

And beneath these creatures, the ground moved like a living sea—not water, but a mass of ants, trilobites, and insects of every kind, writhing and swarming together.

Then, darkness descended. In the sky above, countless wings blotted out the sun, plunging the land into shadow. The scene collapsed, as if the universe itself was being compressed, shrinking back into a single bright point.

A flash of light—and then silence.

Lin Xian gasped, suddenly aware of his own body again. He stood barefoot on cold pavement, the chaotic noises of the city around him—people talking, cars honking, merchants calling out.

Slowly, Lin Xian opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The scene was something like an old movie from the 20th century. Electrical poles crisscrossed the sky, their wires a chaotic tangle. The brick buildings were worn and peeling, iron staircases clung to their sides. Fruit stands filled the street, and girls in white dresses with curly hair passed by. Old-fashioned cars clattered down the road.

Well-dressed men sat on the sidewalk, getting their shoes shined by weary Black men crouching at their feet. A group of young men, their faces blank, sat by the road—their wary eyes following Lin Xian for a moment before they looked away.

“Is this…” Lin Xian blinked in confusion. “Abroad?”

He was certain he was in a foreign land. Judging by the clothes and buildings, it looked like the year was 1952—a time filled with nostalgia, a time from before he was born.

The time was right—but where exactly was he? What country? What city?

“Extra! Extra! Get your paper here!”

Lin Xian turned, hearing the voice of a young boy. The boy was Black, his large backpack filled with neatly folded newspapers. He ran around the street, shouting loudly in English to attract attention. He twisted and jumped, hoping for a sale.

A man in glasses and a black hat approached, handing the boy a coin.

“Thank you, sir!” the boy said, flashing a bright smile as he handed over a newspaper and bent to find the man’s change.

Lin Xian squinted, taking advantage of the distraction. He quietly moved behind the boy, grabbing a newspaper from his backpack and quickly looking at the front page.

“Brooklyn Daily, October 28, 1952.”

Though it was in English, Lin Xian understood it perfectly.

“Brooklyn?” Lin Xian’s eyes widened as he took a deep breath. “Is this Brooklyn, New York, USA?”

This wasn’t just any place.

“The painting ‘Sorrowful Einstein’ was made here. Ji Xin Shui’s dearest friend was buried here. And most importantly, this is where she was from—her hometown, right here in Brooklyn!”

“Hey!”

A voice suddenly called out, snapping Lin Xian out of his thoughts. He turned quickly.

“Hehehe, stealing isn’t very nice, you know~”

A young girl sat on a roadside railing, smiling mischievously. She had long, dark brown hair, slightly curly and tied up in a fluffy ponytail. Her eyes, bright and pretty, turned into crescent moons as she smiled. A small beauty mark under her left eye added to her charm, and her fair, round cheeks dimpled when she grinned. She pointed at the newspaper in Lin Xian’s hand.

“I saw everything~” she teased.

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation