Soul possession 'SEE YOU MORNING' 123 Extended Perception

Operating in low orbit, in the night space on the dark side of Earth, Liana returned from astral projection to her body lying in her quarters aboard the starship. It seemed that in the interstellar fleet, there were always a few individuals different from ordinary crew members—people with extraordinary abilities beyond the norm.

Liana stretched her body and turned her head to see Lydia, who had already returned, sitting there watching her.

“He’s wandering,” Lydia transmitted what she had observed of Lin Yuhui’s soul to Liana via consciousness.

“Let him follow his own free will,” Liana replied simply.

It seemed Liana was not entirely satisfied with her sister’s answer, but she blocked further communication on the topic, unwilling to say more. Liana could only pout her lips and drop the discussion.

Freed from the constraints of a body, Lin Yuhui experienced a freedom he had never known—not only could he move at will, but he could also cross vast distances to perceive specific people’s senses and emotions, almost as if this perception transcended linear time. For instance, he could still sense his other body elsewhere, and the connection did not seem severed. Across time and space, Lin Yuhui knew they would live in the north, so he decided not to disturb them. With that thought, he drifted slowly from the West Coast toward the central Nevada region.

In the night, the desolate desert had only scattered lights at the intersections of small towns on its edges—utter loneliness in the darkness. But this was nothing to him; his life had already been filled with solitude—no, most of his life—and he had long grown accustomed to it.

He moved his body—or rather, his perception—through the night. The cool desert air seemed to caress every cell deep within him, its rhythm carrying the collisions and vibrations of molecules, capable of washing away years of accumulated resentment and unwillingness, leaving only tranquility in the depths of his soul.

Besides touch and sight, Lin Yuhui felt he still retained his sense of smell. In the desert night, as the air temperature plummeted, he could faintly catch the damp scent of sand and stone near the ground. As he floated silently and weightlessly across different terrains, that moist freshness was mingled with delicate wisps of sweetness from the vegetation carried by the breeze—as if the desert night was the time when those lives truly danced and rejoiced.

Before he could fully enjoy the comfort of drifting through the tranquil night, the dim lights among the distant mountains caught his attention.

Where the mind wishes to go, the spirit follows. In an instant, his perspective hovered above the gap between two mountain ridges. It seemed to be a military base, brightly lit, surrounded by metal fencing. Entry and exit were through the main gate and roads. Inside were helicopter pads, concrete main buildings, barracks, garages, and fuel tank areas—a self-sufficient facility deep in the desert.

He flew toward the building with the brightest lights and even circled the guard at the entrance to observe him. The guard was carrying an outdated M16 rifle—were they mercenaries? He wore desert camouflage fatigues. Lin Yuhui felt his ability to distinguish colors had weakened considerably, but he could somehow see through bodies and matter. The guard had a flask tucked inside his uniform—ha, indeed a man carrying a gun for money.

Then he passed through the main gate. The building’s lobby was unremarkable—old and dull. He spotted an elevator shaft to his left front, and his curiosity instantly pulled him there. He descended the shaft, examining each underground level: all laboratory equipment or chemical and pharmaceutical production gear—nothing that interested him. Somehow, as if drawn by some force, Lin Yuhui went down to a deeper facility. Here the ceilings were higher, the floor space larger, and there were many large upright stainless‑steel culture vessels. Not only could he see the stainless steel exteriors, but he could also see the people floating inside the culture fluid.

This was interesting. He drifted over and observed each person closely. In this initial area, all were male—physically strong, identical in appearance and build. They appeared to be mass‑produced clones. Yes, they were clones. Looking closely, he could see their internal organs, identical to humans’, and they were alive.

Lin Yuhui tried to merge his body into one of them. Ha, even though he no longer had a physical body, he attempted to fill that person’s body, to see if he could gain its perceptions. But no—he could even smell the bodily fluids inside, yet he could not access its senses.

Stinking male, Lin Yuhui grumbled as he left that body. If it were a woman, perhaps his inner self wouldn’t be so resistant, especially not a man of a different race. But on second thought—no, his wanting a woman’s body now was not the same as wanting her body when he was alive. Did he intend to slip into a woman’s body and wait to be taken by another man? Heh, the thought made him laugh.

Beyond this area, there were smaller clusters of culture vessels—oddly, each cluster a different color, as if sorted by color.

Only when he got closer did he realize these were not mass‑produced clones. Only a few individuals of each appearance were cultivated—men, women, old, young. What was their purpose? Ordinary NPCs? Right, an inconspicuous person could also be a spy. Possible, Lin Yuhui mused.

Moving further in, Lin Yuhui’s eyes—though he no longer had eyes, perhaps it was a flash in his forehead (he couldn’t see himself anyway)—lit up. This area was full of beautiful female clones: different races, different looks, different body types.

Beautiful female spies? Wondering, he carefully observed the products in each vessel. Blond Caucasians, black‑haired Asians, black‑haired Western Europeans—Mediterranean types, red‑haired curly Celts, and some beauties who seemed Eastern European—pretty but without strongly distinctive racial features.

What were they used for? Hah, need to ask? Any scenario. After lingering among these lovely forms for a while, Lin Yuhui suddenly noticed a door at the end of the corridor, tightly shut, obscuring what lay beyond.

Curious, he passed directly through the wall. Inside was an empty room. Why leave an empty room here? While he was puzzling, his body suddenly floated up involuntarily, as if stuck to the ceiling. He tried to move, but felt a kind of stickiness—he could shift slightly, yet always felt that part of him was glued to the ceiling.

Strange—how could this be? Trapped? Only then did he carefully look around the empty room. He faintly sensed ripples in the air caused by oscillating waves against the walls.

A soul trap? Lin Yuhui suddenly realized the gravity of the situation. He began to struggle, trying to move himself, to break free. Though pulling his body caused no pain, he still could not escape.

Was he going to be trapped here to death? He chuckled to himself—he was already dead. What was there to fear from dying again? Time meant nothing to him anyway.

Lin Yuhui looked around the empty room. Since he was here, he might as well make the best of it.