Signs

[Dreamloss Syndrome] An unexpected problem was suddenly laid before Ji Jue. Ji Jue was taken aback for a moment, then frowned slightly. "Is the situation very serious?" "Due to a lack of statistics, it's hard to determine the exact scale and numbers, but this time the scope is far too vast—abnormally vast. The church has already issued formal notifications to both sides and the Thousand Islands, but I'm afraid it hasn't been taken seriously." Yu Shu gave a bitter smile. "After all, in the eyes of many, getting vaccinated is enough to prevent it. Besides, the Federation and the Empire have the suppression of the Law of Tianyuan; at most, it's considered slightly worse than a virulent flu, unable to make any real waves. But for a town like Xinquan, that might not be the case. To be safe, you must make preparations early." "Procure vaccines, then. Start with the regular employees, then ensure full coverage for Xinquan. As for the other settlements... never mind, Chen Xingzhou isn't hurting for this little bit of cash. I'll drop him a word in a bit." "That was already arranged earlier, but the results didn't meet expectations." Yu Shu reminded him, "On this front, I'm afraid you'll need to advocate for it personally. After all, if it were anyone else, people might not trust them." Ji Jue fell silent, thoroughly speechless. There was nothing he could say. What could he possibly say? Look at the wonderful shit you people pulled in the past! All along, the settlement dwellers and scavengers in the wasteland had maintained a vigilant and rejecting attitude toward so-called vaccines; plenty even paled at the mere mention of them. Among them, to be sure, plenty of fools and anti-intellectuals shouted and raised a fuss, but one couldn't deny the ironclad fact—everyone had been burned before. And more than once. After all, as everyone knew, the Federation's pharmaceutical companies had always performed leagues above their peers when it came to not acting human... Inside the cities, there were many restrictions, making it hard to say, but outside the cities, using scavengers as test subjects for human trials was simply far too convenient. A vast number of drugs that had yet to clear regulation and clinical trials were tested in the wasteland on randomly chosen "lucky winners." Worse still... some would designate an area in advance, dump viruses into the water and food supplies, and wait until conditions turned dire before leisurely verifying the efficacy of their corresponding drugs. Over so many years, even a fool knew to stay far away from pies falling out of the sky. What? You say a disease might break out soon and urge me to get vaccinated? You'd better mean well! Otherwise, do you see the piece in my hands? In all honesty, even Yu Shu felt this idea was terribly crude and rotten, a complete overdraft of Ji Jue's credibility—and the crux was that there was hardly any benefit to it. Conspiracy theories were never in short supply anywhere. Why is this guy named Ji treating me so nicely for no reason? Did you spread this plague yourself? Are you trying to experiment on us? To this, Ji Jue was indifferent. "Let's go with that for now," he nodded decisively, without hesitation. "At the very least, stabilize Xinquan first." As for the others, take it or don't, live or die as you please. "Besides that, do you have anything to add regarding Dreamloss Syndrome?" Ji Jue asked with curiosity. "To what extent do you understand it?" "Vaccination prevents it, the incubation period is relatively long, and it progresses from frequent dreams to dreamlessness." Ji Jue shrugged. "That's about it. But if that's all there is to it, is it worth treating so seriously?" "If it were only isolated cases, there indeed wouldn't be much cause for concern. The real danger is when it reaches scale, just like..." Yu Shu sighed, his feelings still complicated when mentioning the earlier outbreak site in the Thousand Islands. "The severity of Dreamloss Syndrome—aside from having no conventional treatment once it develops—lies primarily in its infectivity and transmissibility. As well as the massive 'collapse effect' that occurs once it reaches scale." He said solemnly, "That's how Punabantu was earlier. Early intervention failed, and combined with the bloody coup, war, and various massacres, inside a martial-law-sealed city, the original situation was completely catalyzed, until it finally spiraled out of control. A body that has lost consciousness and self will uncontrollably begin to leak spiritus. At the same time, this large-scale spiritus overflow, combined with lingering emotions, acts just like a petri dish, making it exceptionally easy to become a breeding ground that spawns other things..." Hearing this, Ji Jue waved his hand, signaling him not to go on. Did he even need it spelled out? As an off-the-books sin fiend decked out with Great Sin favor, a corruption artisan who only lacked official registration in the Profound, how such a situation could be exploited and how much chaos could be brewed—he knew far better than Yu Shu! Whether corruption alchemy or the numerous secret rites of the Evil Transmutation Cult, they would take to it like fish to water... What kind of Happy Farm was this! The crux lay not in the initial stage, but in the aftermath. If early intervention wasn't achieved, the trouble would be endless. When the time came, who knew what sort of "fine gems" would sprout from the soil of Xinquan! "Handle it with full gravity." Ji Jue pulled out a signing pen, scribbled his signature on the application with a swish, and slapped it back. "Just do everything in your power." "Understood." Yu Shu nodded firmly and turned to leave. The afternoon sun blazed down. Beneath the same brutal sunlight, a foul-smelling fishing boat finally cleared the reef zone, the Federation's coastline looming right before their eyes. At the bow, the helmsman and boat owner glanced back. After spotting no sign of water police in pursuit, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and waved toward those behind him. "All right, the port's right ahead. Let those bastards out. Tell them to get their shit together and clear out the moment we dock. And if anyone fucking dares to take a shit on my deck, they can look forward to getting thrown overboard!" A subordinate nodded, cigarette dangling from his lips, and headed toward the fish hold. The hold, which held catches year in and year out, reeked of an indistinct, dense stench that nearly everyone was accustomed to. Yet once he twisted open the hatch, what met his eyes inside the cramped space was a dense mass of heads, disheveled and dirty. In the stifling heat, the stench turned even more pungent and nauseating. Soon, one stumbling figure after another carrying bags and bundles emerged from the hold and stepped onto the deck, gazing around in a daze. After catching sight of the imminent coastline, their weak, exhausted eyes suddenly lit up. They could no longer contain themselves. Screams, shouts, cheers! Face after face brimmed with excitement and joy, endless cheers echoing, some even embracing one another. Even though they knew well that the future remained uncertain, after the protracted torment in the bottom hold, everyone's endurance had reached its absolute limit. As long as they could get ashore, even going to hell wouldn't matter! "Big brother, have a smoke, have a smoke, thanks for your hard work!" Among the stowaways, a middle-aged man who still managed to maintain a shred of decency approached with a fawning smile and offered a cigarette to a sailor. The sailor glanced at the soggy cigarette, waved his hand in disgust, lit one of his own, and kindly shared one with him. "Don't get too overjoyed. You make it sound like the Federation is such a great place." The haggard middle-aged man gave a weary smile. "It's better than out there... at least one can live, right?" The smoking sailor paused, glancing at him with a hint of surprise. "Looks like you did your homework? Got an employer lined up? Need me to introduce you?" "No need, no need. An old classmate referred me to work near Yacheng. I think it's called... Haian? Have you heard of it?" "Hey, your luck isn't bad." The sailor chuckled, as if viewing him in a new light. "An engineer?" "Just an electrician, nothing impressive." The middle-aged man sighed, waving his hand. "Diplomas from outside are useless. I don't even know if they'll still take me." "That's why I'm saying you're lucky," the sailor remarked with feeling. "Haian's hurting for people real bad lately. They don't look at that stuff. A bit of technical skill is enough to gain a foothold. Food and board included, and double pay for fucking overtime. If your luck holds, you might even become a city folk down the line." "Dabi! Dabi! What the fuck are you dogging it for? Motherfucker, get to work!" another sailor yelled from afar. "Fuck your mother, you think the hold doesn't need washing?!" "Coming, coming!" Dabi took a deep drag of his cigarette, let out a long sigh, held his breath, grabbed the hose, and rushed toward the bottom hold. But soon, he returned, heading toward the boat owner. The boat owner saw him walking over, and his expression shifted as well. "What's the situation?" Dabi hesitated, words catching in his throat. Two minutes later, the captain arrived at the bottom hold. Inside the empty hold, hardly anyone remained, leaving only a curled-up figure lying in the corner and a child kneeling beside her. Crying and screaming, shaking her. "Mama, Mama..." Mama gave no response. The disheveled, emaciated woman still lay on the ground, still breathing, yet completely unresponsive, her eyes merely blinking dully, pupils vacant. "Fucking bad luck!" The boat owner reflexively stepped back two paces. Remembering that he had gotten vaccinated just days ago, his heart eased slightly. He called over his subordinate and gave him a furious berating, though the subordinate looked thoroughly innocent. When boarding, medical reports had been checked, and extra money had even been spent on vaccines. To have this happen anyway—what could they do? They could only chalk it up to rotten luck. "What are you standing around for? Throw her overboard!" Dabi froze for a moment, glanced at the corner, and asked reflexively, "...What about the kid?" The boat owner stopped in his tracks, turned coldly, and stared straight at him. No answer. Whether wanted or unwanted, checked or unchecked, managed or neglected. The spiritus plague had spread within the Federation's borders after all. From north to south, across the wasteland outside all coastal regions, more and more patients with Dreamloss Syndrome began to appear. Symptoms of transmission cropped up across numerous settlements. The cities in the vast majority of places merely went through the motions with perfunctory measures, hurrying through the formalities. Basically every year around this time, some chaos would be stirred up; everyone had grown largely numb, treating it as routine. Vaccines had been administered, border checks increased, and television warnings broadcast. Last year had been virulent flu; a few years before that, moss sickness; a few years before that, fever illness. After spreading for a wave, it would naturally dissipate on its own. As for those stowaways from outside, if they could live, they lived; if not, let them die. None of my fucking business. In any case, with the Law of Heavenly Overseer covering them, no matter how ferocious Dreamloss Syndrome was, it wouldn't reach the point of wreaking havoc inside the cities, right? Soon, the brutal truth was laid before everyone. Hello there, it very much would...