Dimensional Hotel
Chapter 308: A Flourishing Life

When another small team mysteriously vanished near the core chamber, a sense of unease, almost bordering on panic, inevitably spread throughout the ship. The current situation—lost in an unknown star domain, trapped in the deep void of space—only intensified this growing fear.

Sage was forced to order that everyone aboard the Pillar of Order be injected with a dose of Fortitude Compound to resist the creeping fear, ensuring that order was maintained on the ship. Yet, he could feel it—this fear hadn’t disappeared. It lingered in the shadows, growing like a malevolent spirit behind the curtain, waiting to break through the barriers of reason.

“…A flawed iteration…”

Watching the cultivators who were bent over in their tasks, yet clueless about what they were supposed to do, the elderly man in the chief’s seat furrowed his brow, muttering curses to himself.

“We’ve lost contact with the lower mechanical decks,” one of the Hermitage Members approached cautiously, lowering his head as he spoke to the elder. “The last transmission indicated strange noises from the pipe chambers. They were about to leave the deck to inspect the equipment, and then they disappeared. The monitoring system only captured their departure from the hatch.”

“How are the engines?” Sage asked in a low voice. “When will we be able to jump again?”

“The engines are recharging, but some of the power lines are offline. The recharge efficiency is only a third of the usual rate. It’ll take at least another hour to activate. And…” The acolyte gulped nervously. “And we haven’t found the intruder yet. We can’t even confirm what caused the previous failed jump. Even if the recharge is completed, jumping recklessly… it could—”

“I don’t need you to remind me of the risks. I will assess them when the time comes,” Sage interrupted. “Now, tell me—how many sections have we lost contact with? What areas are still under our control?”

“The mechanical deck, supply deck, data center, residential zones 2 to 4, and the D-1 and D-2 connectors are all out of contact. The rest of the ship is still within our control, but…”

“But… something’s very wrong. The data returned from the ship’s sensory system keeps picking up interference that can’t be filtered out,” the acolyte adjusted his posture instinctively, sensing the gravity of the situation. “Even in sections where communication is fine and the crew are unharmed, the sensory system is picking up strange signals. It feels as though… as though…”

“Stop stuttering!”

“It feels like the entire Pillar of Order is infected with some kind of ‘disease’. Part of its structure is changing, being identified by the sensory system as ‘foreign objects’, but these changes can’t be separated. And aside from the noise in the sensory data, all the signals from other sensors and monitoring systems seem normal…

“There are also reports from crew members in some sections saying they’ve experienced ‘hallucinations’. They feel something crawling inside the walls or hear voices speaking to them through the ventilation system. One mechanic even said… said his tool cabinet was spying on him, and there were several pairs of eyes inside.”

Sage fell silent, his face as still as water as he thought deeply.

Flawed iterations are full of defects. Their fragile nervous systems are easily influenced by external factors, much like ordinary mortals, yet their loyalty and resilience remain unquestionable. While their reports may contain discrepancies, there would be no exaggeration or irrational fears born from panic.

They truly felt something—some kind of “alienation” was spreading across the entire ship.

And when he thought of the small teams that had gone missing earlier, or the “Knights” who mysteriously vanished from the command chain, their disappearances… it was less like they’d been attacked and more like they had been consumed by the ship itself, swallowed whole.

Slowly, Sage stood up, gazing down at the grand hall. His eyes seemed to pierce through the walls and floors, seeing the entirety of the magnificent High Tower.

The Pillar of Order—this was the proud creation of the Hermitage Order. Each such ship carried the mission of restoring the world’s order and reshaping the structure of time and space. Its core came from the great forging planet, Ladar, and every batch of metal used in its construction had been personally blessed by the Living Saints. Whether it was assembled on an industrial planet or built in a far-off, desolate expedition camp, its sanctity was unquestionable and should not be provoked.

Yet now, a “disease” was defiling this sacred creation.

Sage lowered his head and took out a small pendant from his robe. The pendant was made of gold, with two exquisite circular rings surrounding a brilliant red gem in the center.

The gem seemed to pulse with an ominous glow.

“Notify all reachable sections, hold your positions. If there are no orders, do not leave your posts, and especially, do not enter the connecting passages,” the command rang out.

Though they were unaware of what had happened to the missing personnel, one thing was clear: they had all lost contact while out on missions. The issue might have arisen during the process of “leaving the cabin” or “entering the connecting passage.”

“Continue attempting to repair the navigation system. Before the phase engine is fully charged, we must be ready for the jump,” the command continued.

Without the exact location of the “intruder” and with the potential threat of further interference, recklessly attempting a jump might result in failure once more. But regardless, they had to prepare. The ship’s presence had been exposed, and delaying any further could mean the arrival of the Special Affairs Bureau fleet.

Sage then turned to the cultivator beside her who had been reporting: “How is the reboot progress for the artificial Saintess? Why hasn’t she been deployed yet?”

“Report… the body has been repaired, but…” The cultivator hesitated, but under Sage’s unyielding gaze, he quickly continued, “There is an issue with the mental awakening. The Saintess refuses to leave the holy coffin.”

“Refuses?!” Sage’s usually composed expression faltered into one of disbelief. She seemed unable to accept it. “Is she frightened? Does she no longer dare to step onto the battlefield?”

“No,” the cultivator quickly clarified, “the Saintess is full of battle intent. The mental monitoring device shows that her anger towards the enemy and her faith are at their peak.” He hesitated before continuing. “It’s just… she is currently praying for the souls of the fallen knights. She believes it is very important.”

Sage’s brow furrowed deeply. “Praying? Did no one inform her of the situation outside?”

“According to the safety manual, no information about the ‘outside world’ should be provided to the artificial Saintess before she leaves the holy coffin. Only a few preset commands can be input, to prevent her mind from breaking the safety protocols,” the cultivator explained cautiously. “The monitoring device shows that she is mourning the knights who died. She has a particularly strong emotional connection to this batch of knights, which might be due to factory settings or their origins.”

“Enough. I don’t care about the reasons. I want the artificial Saintess to leave her iron coffin immediately. If she wishes to pray, she can do so once we return. She can pray to her heart’s content, lying in the coffin for a hundred years if she likes, but now is not the time to waste!” Sage snapped, waving her hand in irritation. “Inject the type 4 compound and reboot her into combat mode—I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Understood. I’ll relay your orders to the holy coffin chamber immediately.”

The cultivator hurried off, delivering Sage’s latest command to the holy coffin chamber.

The nearby Hermitage Members continued their work, heads bent low. Occasionally, one of them glanced up nervously, but quickly lowered their gaze again.

There were sounds of faint knocks beneath the floor, strange noises in their headphones, and the feeling of gazes upon them. But all remained silent.

The ship was slowly coming to life.

Many could feel it, including Sage, who likely sensed it too. The ship had been infected by a plague known as “vitality,” and now, the symptoms of this vitality were spreading to half of the ship’s area.

…

Type 4 compound, highest dosage, injected into the reserve tank.

Mental reboot entering preheating phase, to end in three minutes.

Holy coffin energy supply is normal.

In the depths of the “pillar of order,” a warm yellow light filled a circular hall, where several Hermitage Members, dressed in short robes, moved busily about.

Thick pipes hung down from the walls and ceiling of the hall, converging in the center where they connected to a massive device about five to six meters in diameter. The device, deep iron-black in color, was surrounded by various monitoring equipment and fine pipes, cables, and flickering lights that twinkled between them. At the very center of the device, tilted at a 45-degree angle, rested a black iron container.

This was the artificial Saintess’s “holy coffin.”

Now, the iron coffin emitted a low humming sound, as though the “hatching” process was nearing its end.

A Hermitage Member, wearing a half-white mask, approached the device, checking several gauges before signaling to the others.

The assistants immediately moved forward, placing candles on the candelabras at both sides of the holy coffin and lighting them.

Then, the pumping device below the platform began to operate, and the assistants bowed their heads toward the flickering candlelight, murmuring brief prayers.

“The compound is entering the pipeline!”

The lead operator lifted his head, his eyes locked on one of the pipes directly connected to the holy coffin. His muscles tensed slightly.

This was a dangerous operation. The type 4 compound was potent, and such an injection, unprepared, carried a high risk of causing the Saintess’s mental destruction.

But there was no time for hesitation now.

An eerie atmosphere spread throughout the pillar of order, and even within the sacred holy coffin chamber, it felt as though the space itself was slowly coming to life. Dark, watching eyes seemed to emerge from the blessed pipes and cables.

A faint blue liquid began flowing through the pipeline, heading toward the holy coffin.

“Type 4 compound and neural intervention valve are in contact… reaction normal.”

“Saintess’s mental state is stable, reboot process initiated.”

“Recompiling sensory and expression layers…”

The lead operator finally exhaled a quiet sigh of relief as the system’s reports came in.

However, just a second later, he saw a strange sight: the faint blue liquid in the pipe suddenly turned blood-red!

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation