Chapter 35: The Qualified Man

The gentle man felt his diaphragm convulsing severely, and he attempted to bend forward. However, the high heel embedded in his lower jaw possessed irresistible force, pressing him against the wall. His eyes revealed pain, and his nostrils were filled with the bloody and foul odor from the high heel sole.

At this moment, he finally understood why Jupiter could emerge from battlefields in the Middle East and become a renowned journalist. It wasn't just because of her beauty and intelligence; she had exceptional strength as well.

"Jealous, aren't you?" The gentle man's face contorted in pain, his neck forced upwards by the high heel, and he tiptoed, struggling hard. His eyes displayed a scornful look as he said, "Self-proclaimed human intellects, eager for that kind of power, envious, aren't you?"

The precursor of the Human Self-Rescue Society was the widely renowned Mensa Club on Earth.

Its original purpose was to serve the interests of humanity, to confirm, nurture, and consolidate human intellect. It encouraged the development and research of human intellectual instincts, characteristics, and applications, providing its members with valuable opportunities for intellectual stimulation, exchange, and development.

Mensa was the world's largest and most successful high IQ society.

It had over 100,000 members in more than 100 countries, with the largest numbers in the United Kingdom and the United States. Branches of Mensa existed in more than 40 countries across all continents except Antarctica.

Membership had no restrictions based on gender, race, class, or occupation, but it had one extremely high threshold: you had to be incredibly intelligent to join.

What does 'incredibly intelligent' mean? The answer was that your IQ had to be in the top 2% of the human population.

In other words, 98% of Earth's population was disqualified from joining Mensa due to being 'too unintelligent.'

Throughout its existence, Mensa had attracted top geniuses from various fields such as science, literature, and the arts.

When H'el made his presence known to the world and appeared on the internet, showcasing videos that Mensa members, the computer geniuses among them, couldn't decrypt no matter what, they realized that Earth was about to undergo a significant change.

Mensa subsequently fell silent. Some of its members, with IQs exceeding 180 and firm convictions, formed the organization to rescue humanity from danger—the Human Self-Rescue Society.

Among those with extraordinarily high IQs, some saw Earth as transparent, saw through the world, saw through humanity, and set their sights on conquering the alien who sought to dominate the world. They grinned at the prospect of a game of conquest and being conquered, their lips curved in anticipation.

It was a psychological game that excited their adrenal glands—humans conquering aliens or aliens conquering humans. What they wanted was to use masses of humanity to overpower Him, to defeat Him, to conquer Him.

This was just the beginning.

There were also those at the peak of human intelligence, fearful yet resolute, with a willingness to dedicate themselves. They approached Him, observed Him, sought His weaknesses, all in the hope that one day they could cut off the shadow beneath the sun and win the dawn for humanity.

They all possessed the pinnacle of human intelligence. In their eyes, even money, power, fame, and beauty were easily within reach and hardly worth mentioning.

It seemed like nothing in the world had any meaning to them.

They saw through too much, leaving them with little enjoyment in life.

Only in the face of extraterrestrials, this insurmountable peak, could they feel their brains boiling, their neural synapses dancing with the thrill of the challenge.

At this moment, they felt that they were born in this world for the sole purpose of dealing with Him, pulling Him down from His divine pedestal, manipulating Him, conquering Him, and ultimately killing Him.

They were born with this exceptional intelligence for this very moment.

This era did not disappoint them!

The room in the sewer was terrifyingly quiet, the dim oil lamps flickering, and every face hidden in the darkness, their gazes serene.

"Having such intelligence but lacking unwavering faith is truly a terrible foolishness," one of the faces in the darkness spoke with a calm and unruffled tone.

"Even simple human relations and understanding of the world are beyond his reach. How could he dare to hope to fight alongside us?" another face shook its head, its tone void of any pity.

The others remained silent but were in agreement.

It was truly foolish at this moment, to declare that he wanted to become a subordinate of the extraterrestrials and gain superpowers. He was an existence with almost no emotional intelligence.

Perhaps it was the usual peaceful exchanges that had led to his error in emotional intelligence, thinking that everyone had high intelligence and despised the presence of ordinary people.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

It was their group of highly intelligent humans who scorned the divine beings among humanity.

This was a war between humans and gods.

How could such low emotional intelligence be tolerated in this war?

Jupiter remained calm.

Compared to facing H'el, the man who had cut down someone in half in front of her, the gentle man before her was far inferior.

She had an expressionless face and gently lowered her raised right leg, removing the high heel from his jaw.

As the gentle man breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a stinging and swelling pain in his jaw, his face twitched slightly.

As his heel touched the ground, Jupiter was in the process of lowering her right leg. Her joints moved like a mechanical twist as she quickly concealed the sole of her foot and struck towards his temple.

*Bang!*

The gentle man had no inkling of what had just happened. He was directly struck in the temple by Jupiter's blow and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Jupiter lowered her right leg, patted her torn dress lightly, and walked back to her seat with an expressionless face, saying, "Everyone, I don't have much time. It's time to discuss the next phase of our strategy."

"I still maintain my psychological strategy against Him," one voice said confidently.

"Psychological manipulation has failed. Kevin is already dead. We made the wrong choice."

"No, quite the opposite. After he displayed such intense emotions, there is value in manipulation. Since he cannot be manipulated by 'righteousness,' then starting with the 'subtle' will surely yield results."

"As long as he still possesses emotions and can communicate, I will break him."

"Control is achieved when he willingly steps onto the podium."

Amidst the flickering oil lamps, a confident face was revealed, smiling.

Edward Jorton.

A seemingly ordinary middle-aged man with an average physique and dressed in commonplace attire, he appeared to have nothing particularly remarkable about him.

However, he was, without a doubt, the most terrifying master of psychology on Earth. Everyone, including the select group of high-intelligence individuals within Mensa, had to admit and fear interacting with him because in casual conversation, you could easily be misled, hypnotized, or subjected to subconscious influence by him.

He possessed the world's most precise insight, seeing through a person's psychological weaknesses at a glance. No matter how well one disguised themselves before him, they could not escape his eagle-like gaze.

He possessed psychological abilities akin to those seen in the movie "Inception" - the ability to modify the subconscious mind. This was a truly terrifying power, especially in a world where so-called psychic abilities relied on simple gestures, hypnosis, and objects to manipulate a person's brain and memories.

He didn't possess any kind of psychic superpower. Instead, his unique understanding and interpretation of each individual's psychology, coupled with his research into graphic hypnosis, suggestive speech induction, subconscious body language, telepathy, and mind-reading, allowed him to control anyone.

Regardless of your IQ or emotional intelligence, as long as you still had emotions, you were susceptible to his manipulation.

Moreover, his entry into Mensa wasn't conventional at all. To showcase his abilities, he had managed to infiltrate Mensa and navigate seamlessly among various high-intelligence groups. Unbeknownst to others, he subtly made them acknowledge him as a Mensa member, even reaching high-ranking positions. Ultimately, in a dramatic twist, even the chairman of the Mensa Club felt that he was more capable of holding the position and publicly handed over the chairmanship to him.

No one opposed this decision; they all believed it was exceedingly fitting.

After taking over as chairman, he stood on the podium and openly mocked all Mensa members, declaring that they were all easy to manipulate, that this supposed gathering of geniuses had no one capable of challenging him. They had all unwittingly served his purposes like puppets.

Even after his exposure, many top-tier minds willingly submitted to him, believing his abilities to be extraordinary, superior to 99% of the world's population.

Before his revelation, many wealthy individuals had joined forces to protect him, secretly assembling security teams even more extravagant than those of national presidents, all in a bid to safeguard this psychological mastermind who surpassed humanity.

He was very likely the person in human history who understood human psychology the most profoundly.

An ordinary middle-aged man possessed a charisma that could captivate all of Earth's highly intelligent humans.

The others fell silent, unable to argue with Edward on matters of psychology.

This was his lifelong specialization, and no one could compare.

People were both wary and certain that Kevin had been unwittingly used by him, a brick to stir the emotions of the extraterrestrial being.

"May Kevin's sacrifice be valuable. You, this part of the team, are responsible for interpreting His actions and manipulating His psychology," Jupiter decisively concluded, just as they were about to discuss whether continuing psychological manipulation was feasible, entrusting this task to Edward, the former Mensa chairman.

When it came to interpreting His behavior, there was no one more suitable than him.

Jupiter then placed her ten fingers on the round table and spoke with a stern expression.

"My fellow comrades, I want you to emerge from the shadows and become His subordinates."

"Offer yourselves to the dawn, and I will arrange for a batch of personnel to enter as well."

"Utilize your wisdom and talent to make outstanding contributions to His grand Earth empire."

"Our next stage is to secure at least 900 slots for superpowered humans."

"Among us, we have Earth's most outstanding researchers in chemistry, physics, biology... In no time, we will possess applications of superpowers that far exceed His imagination."

"His strength surpasses human imagination, so we will use His own power to kill Him."

No one opposed. The infiltration today, aiding the enemy, was all for the sake of their future victory.

"Very well, I'll respond to Dawn's recruitment."

"Coincidentally, I will too."

"That proves Dawn's judgment is spot on."

"No need for self-recommendation and backdoor arrangements. If we can't even enter His political group, how can we hope to topple Him?"

"He's quite pitiable, all alone, facing the world."

"Indeed."

The group chuckled.

They felt that the extraterrestrial being's actions were suicidal. All of His subordinates were now turning against Him.

He truly deserved this, and they were ready to take action.

The people smiled.

Jupiter's gaze solemnly swept across the faces of those present, a look of profound sadness and determination in her eyes.

"Comrades, this journey is shrouded in uncertainty. We do not know when we might meet our fate, and the possibility of perishing is high. Even if we turn to dust and bones, we will cut through thorns, advance unwaveringly, and shatter the silhouette beneath the sun, winning the dawn for humanity, shining a light for future generations."

Amidst the swaying oil lamp, the dim, yellow light cast a hazy glow on each confident and composed face.

°°°

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