My Players Are So Fierce – Handsome dog Frank

Chapter 2718 - 907: Opportunity Amid Crisis—Fortunately, Pipi Snake Has Keen Eyes [2/10]

The chaos of time and space rules in Subspace had long exceeded the thinking limit of Murphy’s dumb dog brain, but you couldn’t really blame him; that kind of "super new human" who can use a human brain’s computing power to derive coordinate mappings and spatial laws in Subspace probably hasn’t been born yet.

According to Triss, only Subspace creatures with special thinking organs can, through instinctive inheritance, grope out the various ever-changing rules of this Chaos Domain; or, like the Sentinels, they’re equipped with special hyperdimensional radars the moment they roll off the production line, to meet their needs for navigation and rapid movement when fighting in Subspace.

The only reason Murphy could precisely dive in to rescue Adel at the moment she followed him into Subspace was because of the Sentinel he was currently gripping in his other hand.

Unlike Monica... no, Mosna who was still outside, the one before his eyes was an elite assault-type Combat Sentinel of the Commander model.

You could tell from the more than seven concealed internal weapon bays hidden under her protective synthetic skin and mechanical structure; the full weapon system unfolded from both arms, both legs, her lower back, waist, and shoulders had already expended all ammo. Even though the corrosion of Subspace Energy had given her the "aesthetic of hardened rusting machinery", just from the model types of those weapon bays alone you could imagine her brutally feral combat stance at her peak.

Worthy of being the elite unit left behind by the creator specifically to counter Subspace incursions—there wasn’t a part of this guy’s body that wasn’t a weapon.

But her current condition was terrible.

You could tell from the weak arcs of electricity flickering in those bionic eyeballs—she was already on the edge of shutdown.

In fact, Monica had already been shut down for more than six hours, scoured by the wash of Chaotic Power in Subspace. It was the Omega Program attached to Murphy’s touch just now that reawakened her; as for why she dragged Murphy into Subspace...

Uh, let’s just say Sentinels might have a bit of "morning temper" too when they’re jolted awake from shutdown.

But it absolutely wasn’t intentional. Ever since Murphy was pulled in, this poor and miserable Sentinel Commander had been apologizing to him nonstop.

"S-sorry... Lord Administrator... my counterattack program... malfunctioned... it misidentified your previous touch... as an attack behavior..."

"Alright, that’s enough, save your battery."

Right now the three of them were squeezed together, drifting through Subspace under the protection of Murphy’s Omega Program. Hearing Ms. Monica’s intermittent electronic-voice apologies, Murphy shrugged and said:

"You’ve already said that over a dozen times. I told you I don’t mind. In fact, it proves the Omega Program can keep me alive safely in Subspace, and you also promised you can use the hyperdimensional radar to plot us a route back."

As he spoke, his gaze turned into the distance. In the special field of view granted by the Omega Program enveloping his body, all the interference from Chaotic Power that twisted and ravaged sanity was stripped away, revealing Subspace’s most primitive visage before Murphy and Adel.

Everywhere he looked, irregular tuft-like streams of light drifted about; the multicolored scenery looked pretty gorgeous at first glance. Those constantly shifting halos carried a kind of fantastical splendor. However, whenever Murphy focused his gaze on a nebula-like band of light, the motes within would suddenly rearrange, forming all sorts of indescribable postures that bared their fangs and claws at him.

It was as if this space itself was openly radiating malice at Murphy.

Unfortunately, with the filth of Chaos Origin stripped away, these beams of light weren’t even enough to raise the slightest ripple in Murphy’s heart. He was even a bit impressed by Subspace’s creativity—who knew "colorful black" could exist so perfectly.

He knew this wasn’t Subspace’s true state—merely a projection, a version of what he saw transformed in his own mind into something he could comprehend.

This was also the root of why Subspace could drive people insane: for any flesh-and-blood consciousness that dared look directly at it, what it displayed was the true intent of chaos. Yet those interpretations had already surpassed the upper limit of what ordinary minds could understand. The brain desperately tried to convert what it saw into concepts it could rationalize, but limited by experience and mental strength, most people couldn’t endure that pressure from the unknown during this "cognitive conversion" and had their pig brains overloaded into madness.

This was also why the more formidable a Psychic Master, the more bizarre knowledge they could distill from their study of Subspace. Their minds and thought processes already stood several tiers above ordinary people, allowing them to read and parse out some useful things from the chaotic interpretations Subspace presented.

Ultimately, as long as your imagination is big enough to rationalize the chaotic interpretations Subspace projects into your mind into something you can understand, this thing becomes much less capable of harming you.

In Triss’s words, this process is essentially a kind of "knowledge exchange" about chaotic interpretations. Subspace generously gifts this "knowledge" to every living individual lucky enough to behold it, but whether they can comprehend it is none of Chaos Origin’s concern.

This likewise explains why Chaos Cultists are always shouting things like "the truth of chaos" and "the gift of the void".

They truly believe they’ve gained power or knowledge from what Subspace has given them, even though what they’ve actually received is just a tangled mess of deranged thoughts twisted by chaotic interpretations, plus bodily mutations caused by the warping of their souls.