I am the Emperor of Humanity across the Multiverse

Above the clouds and under the moonlight, a large business jet with a W-shaped tail fin, primarily black with red accents, was swiftly flying from east to west. This 75-meter-long, 64-meter-wingspan, and 19-meter-high aircraft was a specially modified version of the Airbus A340, custom-made for Atlas.

Before the A340 civilian model officially went into operation, Airbus had already delivered this "Black Phantom" to Atlas. The aircraft had significant modifications, reducing passenger space and facilities to increase cargo capacity, with its typical empty weight and maximum takeoff weight adjusted from 177 tons and 368 tons to 164 tons and 370 tons, respectively.

The Black Phantom's performance and safety standards far surpassed all contemporary civilian aircraft. If not for the restrictions of it being a private jet and bound by confidentiality agreements, Airbus would have long publicized it in the media to "mock" Boeing.

As the buyer, Samuel Young chose Airbus over American domestic planes, particularly Boeing, which had a good partnership with Atlas, primarily for his safety.

At this moment, in the upper cabin of the Black Phantom, the floor was carpeted, the walls and lighting featured warm tones, and flight attendants in black uniforms moved through the corridors, offering drinks and snacks to hunters, soldiers, and research personnel in the rooms or lounge areas.

In a private office near the cockpit, Samuel Young, dressed in a white fitted shirt and dark gray trousers, sat in a relaxed manner on a fixed sofa. He held a tablet, reviewing carefully organized documents and contracts, allowing him to handle work and approve projects during the flight.

However...

"Haha! You lost!"

"Robert! You're cheating!"

The office was filled with the noise of children arguing. To Samuel's right, his two biological sons were leaning against the cabin wall, sitting on the carpet, playing with handheld consoles smaller than tablets but more suitable for holding. These two had just turned one year old. After all, Samuel had 'found' them on June 8, 1993, and today was July 12, 1994.

But what one-year-old could grow to be 1.2 meters tall? Though individual differences exist, typically children begin mimicking adult speech around 4 to 5 months, start babbling around 7 months, say simple syllables between 8 to 9 months, and attempt to walk around 10 to 11 months, usually stabilizing after a year old.

However, St. Giles and Robert...

Weaned at two months,

Speaking at four months,

Running by six months,

By eight months, they were climbing and jumping everywhere, practically hyperactive.

Especially now, these two could already break steel bars with their bare hands. St. Giles could even fly, and if not for Samuel's personal intervention, the caregivers Alexia and the research staff would have been helpless.

To those who knew, they were just over one year old; to those who didn't, they seemed "eight."

Moreover, the two were dressed in matching black shorts and t-shirts, except St. Giles' shirt had symmetrical holes on the back for his wings. From the aerial view and the scaled-down ancient buildings and soldier units on the handheld consoles, it was clear they were playing a real-time strategy game.

Their expressions—one smiling, one angry—revealed that Robert had just defeated St. Giles' army in a simulated battle.

"I didn't cheat," Robert retorted, unhappy with the accusation. "Father told us to observe and be mindful, didn't he? You didn't notice the gap in your lines, and I had maxed out the morale of my elite units and activated a 30-second invincibility effect. It only looked like cheating..."

He continued with a mocking tone, "You can't understand that, can you?"

"You!" Annoyed by Robert's taunts, St. Giles immediately set his console aside and stood up.

"Hey! Hey!! Words are fine, but don't get physical, I'm warning you." Robert also stood but quickly retreated a few steps to maintain a safe distance from St. Giles.

"Ahem."

At Samuel's casual cough, the two immediately quieted down. St. Giles, with clenched fists and a dissatisfied expression, seemed particularly upset at Robert's comment about his intelligence.

Aware of his sons' emotional and psychological activities, Samuel simply rubbed his temples with his right hand and then asked Robert, "If you were to play Mortal Kombat, who would win, you or St. Giles?"

"St. Giles..." Robert answered truthfully.

"Then you are quite dumb too."

"I'm not...!"

"Not dumb?" Samuel didn't give Robert a chance to argue, speeding up his speech, "According to what you just said to St. Giles, losing a game makes one dumb, doesn't it?"

"I... um... I guess that's kind of the case..." Robert was at a loss for words.

Seeing this, Samuel refocused on his work and reminded them, "I don't care if you two argue, but if anyone else dares to provoke or bully you and you still fight among yourselves, don't blame me for stepping in. Got it?"

"Yes, Father," the two replied in unison.

Realizing why their father had asked such a question, both Robert and the initially angry St. Giles calmed down. Robert then said to St. Giles, "It was my fault earlier, I shouldn't have said that. When we land, I'll use my allowance to buy you dinner or a new game, okay?"

"Dinner's not necessary, there's food on the plane," St. Giles replied with crossed arms, turning away but with a noticeably softened tone. "A game won't be enough, at least nine games."

"Nine games it is!" Robert laughed heartily, then somewhat shamelessly threw an arm around St. Giles' shoulder, leading him through the automatically opening sliding door and out of the office.

Before the door closed, their conversation could still be heard:

"Let's find something to eat, I'm hungry."

"What does your hunger have to do with me?"

"Ten games."

"Alright."

With the door closed, Samuel finally had a quiet environment to continue working. He had brought his two sons from Ghana back to the USA to attend a press conference jointly hosted by Atlas Communications Technology and the private R&D department.

The products unveiled at this conference would redefine "personal communication" and herald a new era. It's worth noting that the Mate 60 Pro Samuel had recently purchased was preserved perfectly until this world's 1960s.

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