Xiao Yi nodded and asked, "Huo Li, can you really remotely control only a few hundred people? Now, with the living experimental base in Zerg King City, along with the Phillip family members, their servants, and thirty medical staff—can you still handle all of that?"

Huo Li replied, "It's true that I can only control a few hundred 'people' remotely, but that's when they have their own consciousness, and my spiritual power has to constantly contend with theirs. However, the bodies you've created are entirely at my disposal, functioning as additional brains. They actually enhance my mental power in that area."

The black-haired youth was taken aback. "Don't tell me that the more you control, the stronger you become!"

Huo Li touched his nose and explained, "Once I've taken over hundreds of the Phillip family and their servants, I can even use them to control one or two additional ordinary people."

The black-haired boy sounded both envious and bitter. "It's obviously my body, but as long as I'm not connected to them, I can't control them at all! It feels like my ability was tailor-made for your powers!"

Huo Li responded, "Xiao Yi, you actually have the ability to give them self-consciousness, but you ….."

"Why would I tolerate another version of myself in this world?!" Xiao Yi angrily interrupted.

Huo Li shrugged innocently.

The black-haired boy continued, "Make sure you keep all those bodies in check. I don't want anything with the same genetic makeup as me slipping out of control."

Huo Li, "Don't worry. If you wanted me to control how many times they breathe each day, I could do it."

Before Xiao Yi could respond, 2d14's voice echoed in his mind:

"Ding! The five-minute timer is up. The teleportation array will forcibly activate in twenty seconds."

Xiao Yi immediately retrieved a miniature figurine of Huo Li from his space and said, "Huo Li, transfer yourself quickly. The teleportation array is about to activate."

As Huo Li complied, Xiao Yi slipped the 'revived' figurine into his pocket and stored Huo Li's normal body in the system space. He stood still, and moments later, he vanished into thin air after an orange light enveloped him.

Meanwhile, Liu Mo struggled to deal with a swarm of reporters outside the hospital. Frustrated, he decided to seek Huo Li's advice on whether the two young masters of the Phillip family and Miss Aliena could make an appearance to appease the media. However, when Liu Mo peeked into the dressing room, he found it empty. "Huh? Where did everyone go? Boss and sister-in-law disappeared in just a few minutes?!"

At that moment, a petite nurse who was recently 'hired' by him approached with a professional smile. Without ceremony, she informed, "Liu Mo, you are now fully in charge of hospital operations. Xiao Yi, Aliena, and I, along with all SS-ranked saviors from the Salvation Alliance, have been urgently dispatched to Earth for a salvation mission."

The nurse in a light pink uniform replied. "Liu Mo, have you been on vacation for too long? You can't even handle such a minor issue?"

Realizing that the 'nurse' was actually his boss, Liu Mo immediately straightened up, tucked in his beer belly, and loudly promised, "I-I'll handle it! Socializing tasks like these are nothing for me, Liu Mo! You can count on me to take care of this so you can focus on your mission. But wait—why wasn't I assigned to the emergency mission? I'm an SS-ranked savior, too!"

The petite nurse rolled her eyes. "Did you forget how you overspent your points on the long-distance teleportation talisman in the nuclear-contaminated world?" With that, she turned and left the room.

Liu Mo was left alone backstage, lamenting about the fact that he had been demoted.

.

At the same time, on Earth…

With flashes of orange light, 2,443 SS-ranked saviors, eight SSS-ranked saviors, and a figurine of Huo Li descended onto a vast square. The square, which spanned over a mile in both length and width, dwarfed the more than 2,000 elite members that the Salvation Alliance had accumulated over thousands of years. It was obvious that the area had been prepared in advance; the center of the square was empty, while ceremonial guards stood every ten meters along the perimeter.

Xiao Yi looked around curiously, his gaze landing on the five white bridges and the red and gold-roofed city gate towers in the distance.

In his mind, 2d14 excitedly explained, "This plaza is an ancient relic over ten thousand years old. About 10,028 years ago, the grass was replaced with stone tiles, and it hasn't been altered since—only maintained with advanced technology. Back then, there were over 200 countries on this planet! Now, only about thirty remain. But the nation we're in has persisted throughout history."

The black-haired youth asked in his mind, "Does this mission only involve working with one country?"

He received no response and remembered that Huo Li's brain had shrunk again, so his mental range was now limited to a small radius—just enough to cover Xiao Yi's coat pocket. The young man was hesitant to bring Xiao Huo Li close to his face and inquire directly, so he could only observe his surroundings and watch the actions of other saviors.

Because the main system's notification was so abrupt, at least a quarter of the saviors were pulled from their apocalyptic worlds during their bedtime. With only five minutes of preparation and considering that the SS-level savior's worlds were generally far harsher than Prosperity Planet, most of them used the precious time to arrange for their absence rather than change clothes.

At this critical moment for humanity's survival on Earth, amid the solemnity of the grand plaza, the galaxy's most powerful salvation organization—the Salvation Alliance—assembled its 2,451 elite saviors.

However, their appearance was far from elite or imposing. At least 500 of them had been teleported in their pajamas and were hurriedly pulling clothes from their system spaces to change into proper attire in the plaza.

Several hundred others exhibited signs of recent battles, with blood-stained and dirt-covered bodies, some showing visible wounds. Most of these individuals sat cross-legged on the ground, using medical devices and potions purchased from the system shop to stop their bleeding. The fortunate ones who were uninjured wiped their faces with damp towels.

There had been proposals for the system shop to sell a cleansing talisman that could clean the body as effectively as a hot shower. After all, apocalyptic worlds with access to shower facilities were exceedingly rare. Not everyone had a water-based superpower like Little Droplet (*Aliena).

Unfortunately, such luxuries were deemed impractical. The system argued that cleansing the body of dirt, dead skin, oils, and blood would require advanced technology that could potentially strip the user's skin completely if applied incorrectly. Furthermore, it cautioned that the cost of the talisman would far exceed that of universal healing potions. These concerns quickly silenced even the most fastidious saviors.

The result? A ragtag group of disheveled, weary individuals stood before Earth's ceremonial guard—a stark contrast to the guards' polished uniforms and upright postures. The 2,000 supposed saviors of Earth resembled a group of famine refugees rather than a force of intergalactic heroes.

Among those gathered, five hundred were in various states of undress, with some wearing only their underwear. Seven hundred displayed visible wounds, their grimy faces reflecting fatigue. The rest, while not actively injured, showed signs of exhaustion and long-term stress, evident in their pale skin and bloodshot eyes.

The small number of missionaries who had been enjoying vacations in Salvation Alliance Town appeared even more miserable. Due to the system's punitive vacation point deductions, they had been abruptly summoned mid-leisure. One glamorous female savior, clad in a short, tight dress, had likely been pulled from a dance hall. Another man seemed to have been taken from sunbathing on his villa's balcony, sporting beach shorts and flip-flops. The worst off was a tall, thin man wearing only a bath towel—evidently interrupted during a spa session.

The Earth leaders, who had been solemnly awaiting the arrival of the interstellar saviors, watched as over 2,000 'refugees' and several hundred bizarrely dressed 'oddballs' appeared in the plaza. One of the leaders forced a stiff yet polite smile as a young man in beach shorts approached him.

The man in beach shorts, appearing to be in his late twenties with an unkempt demeanor, scanned the gathered leaders. Unfazed by their seriousness, he casually asked in fluent Z-language, one of the galaxy's major lingua francas. "I'm 'Programmer,' the Salvation Alliance's current top-ranking savior. Are we discussing the plan here in the square?"

The leaders were stunned. Was this the leader of the group who would determine the survival of their planet? The question of humanity's fate loomed ominously in their minds, but they suppressed their unease and maintained a formal demeanor.

One leader stepped forward and spoke earnestly, "Comrade Cheng, on behalf of all the people of Country Z and Earth, we express our deepest gratitude for your arrival. As per the main system's directive, all matters concerning Earth's personnel, resources, and operations will now fall under your authority as the commander of the SSS-ranked saviors. Leaders and experts from the other thirty-five nations are on their way to join us—"

"But I'm not the commander-in-chief," the man interrupted, seemingly oblivious to the inappropriateness of cutting off a world leader. "And my surname isn't Cheng."

The atmosphere grew incredibly awkward as a heavy silence descended over the plaza.

Two seconds later, the main system, unable to endure the awkward exchange, intervened in everyone's minds:

"Ding! All saviors, please equip the wristband brain terminals assigned by the system mall within ten seconds. These devices will enable real-time communication and identification. Commander C2001, please begin coordinating with the leader of Country Z immediately."

While more than 2,000 'refugees' in the plaza donned their wristbands, a well-dressed man in his thirties stepped forward to meet the leaders, finally bringing the proceedings back on track.

Two minutes later, a synchronized notification sounded in everyone's minds:

"All saviors, please proceed to the conference hall on the west side of the square within five minutes. An internal meeting will be held to discuss the apocalyptic scenario, followed by a public meeting with Earth's leaders and experts upon their arrival."

The chaotic crowd started flowing toward the hall. While the dignitaries tried to hide their emotions, the soldiers, aware of the planet's impending doom, could not conceal the despair and shock on their faces. They could only watch as the loud, unruly procession filed into the hall, deepening their sense of hopelessness.

In stark contrast, Xiao Yi, the 'Second Young Master of the Philip Family,' was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, exuding an aura of professionalism that set him apart from the crowd of unkempt saviors. His sharp contrast to the rest of the crowd garnered curious and approving glances from the ceremonial guards.

The black-haired teenager, puzzled by the soldiers' unusually friendly looks, turned his attention to the stage.

From the microphone, Commander C2001 announced, "For this salvation mission, the Salvation Alliance will have ten leaders to make decisions on major events. This includes the eight SSS-ranked missionaries—please take your seats in the front row now. Additionally, the two SS-ranked missionaries with the highest points, rank 10, A7898 and…"

C2001, who had been giving orders with ease, actually stuttered, and only after 2 seconds did he manage to utter the entire sentence: "…and rank 9, zz2d14, please sit in the front row."