As the number of papers he read steadily accumulated, an entirely new world unfurled before Wei Yuan.
Each protein molecule was like an unopened treasure chest—no one knew what lay inside until it was unlocked.
Wei Yuan lost all track of time, focusing entirely on the work in his hands. He laid down the essential cornerstones in this new world, leaving sufficient room for upgrades between them, and attached the necessary functional segments. Soon, a primitive virus possessing only the most basic functions took shape.
Most importantly, it was alive.
Suddenly, Wei Yuan felt the entire space shudder. Cries of alarm erupted throughout the research area, and many researchers poked their heads out from their cubicles, bewildered as to what had happened.
Fortunately, the tremor lasted only an instant before subsiding. Many assumed it was merely their imagination, but seeing the heavily armed security guards still visibly tense, they knew something had definitely occurred. Yet the disturbance had been fleeting, and with everything seemingly back to normal, the researchers returned to their stations and resumed their work.
Wei Yuan only glanced up before continuing with his work, testing the new virus's various parameters according to the instruction manual. A few minutes later, the virus was suddenly assigned its own name and designation code!
Wei Yuan paused, followed by a surge of delight. When he finished designing the virus and submitted it for evaluation, the laboratory's automated gene-compilation equipment produced a batch of the new virus according to his design blueprint and subjected it to testing.
That the virus Wei Yuan designed now had a name and a unique code meant it had passed the tests; from that moment on, a new virus had come into being. It might be frail right now, but it was nonetheless a brand-new form of life. Looking at the virus under testing, Wei Yuan felt as though he were gazing upon his own child.
With his initial success under his belt, Wei Yuan's confidence surged. He set to work developing an advanced version, vastly enhancing certain capabilities of the virus.
The second step was far easier; many papers had already pointed the way. Wei Yuan continued to learn as he designed.
Umbrella Company's achievements in biotechnology were at the very pinnacle. Every protein functional segment had been perfected to such an extent that designers often felt like they were merely playing with building blocks—they only needed to take the necessary functional segments and snap them onto the corresponding interfaces. The laboratory system would automatically handle the rest, producing the corresponding physical virus or other biological microparticles.
However, the gene fragment Wei Yuan had taken on was unprecedented; many existing functional gene segments were completely incompatible, requiring him to manually redesign the underlying interfaces from scratch. Wei Yuan also had to learn from the most fundamental level of genetic molecules, putting what he learned into practice immediately.
Before long, Wei Yuan designed an advanced version of the new virus. It greatly enhanced its own survivability, allowing it to endure longer in hazardous environments and replicate faster. Only a virus like this stood a chance of surviving.
Soon, the new virus also received a name and code, though it was categorized under the original virus.
With his second design a success, Wei Yuan's confidence soared sky-high.
Ambitiously, he began designing a third iteration. This version would spread primarily through the air, using the respiratory system as its breach into the human body. This type of virus actually already possessed highly mature functional units that had been thoroughly tested across tens of thousands of years of human history.
Wei Yuan had even mapped out subsequent versions. The first step would be to broaden the types of biological cells it could infiltrate—starting with the majority of human somatic cells—and the second step would be to add the ability to infect plants.
If all these steps were completed, he would have a particulate vector capable of carrying various genetic weapons or being turned into an efficient biochemical therapeutic agent, depending entirely on which functional segments were loaded onto it later.
Naturally, even if Wei Yuan completed all these versions, what he achieved would still be a crude and rudimentary vector.
Within Umbrella Company, there were undoubtedly countless truly sophisticated biological particulate vectors preserved after brutal screening that were far more efficient than conventional viruses.
Wei Yuan worked tirelessly, forgetting food and sleep, finally experiencing the joy of working. As he designed the new viral vector, he continued studying research papers and analyzing the primordial, mysterious gene fragment. The mysterious gene fragment was entirely different from a virus; Wei Yuan was not yet capable of building a new virus based upon it. He needed a solid grounding in viral design before taking that step.
However, engrossed in the microscopic world, Wei Yuan failed to notice that leaden clouds had gathered densely over the entire base, darkening the sky like night. Thick bolts of lightning dropped from the clouds from time to time, their massive electrical currents safely grounded by the testing base's lightning rods.
A gale began to howl. In what should have been a sweltering season, a bone-chilling cold abnormally set in. The tough soldiers standing guard across the base huddled into their sentry boxes, curling their bodies and cursing the damned weather. Outside, hardly a soul was in sight; snapped branches scraped loudly across the ground, and several light vehicles swayed in place under the gusts.
Just then came the roar of engines as a triangular aircraft skimmed beneath the cloud cover and touched down on the base's tarmac. A sudden blast of wind struck as it landed, causing the craft to rock violently, slamming onto the ground. Fortunately, it was exceptionally sturdy, avoiding a fatal crash.
The major in charge of the airfield immediately braved the gale, leading his men over in a rush. To fly in under such weather meant there had to be urgent business. Moreover, the aircraft bore the insignia of Security Headquarters, something only top brass from headquarters were authorized to use.
Umbrella Company's Security Department might not sound like much by name, but in truth, its bases spanned the globe, commanding over a hundred thousand armed personnel across army, navy, air, and space forces—and that was without factoring in its military research personnel.
In sheer military might, the Security Department surpassed the vast majority of mid-sized nations. In fact, it routinely intervened covertly in wars of minor nations and had even toppled sovereign regimes by force on more than a few occasions.
Thus, the President of Security Headquarters held a rank equivalent to an executive vice president of the parent company, placing her above the business division groups. In terms of actual power, Security, Intelligence, and R&D formed a triumvirate, each with its own strengths.
Once the aircraft settled, the rear ramp lowered—a design straight out of a transport craft. A squad of heavily armed soldiers jogged out, every one of them towering and burly, veins and muscles bursting, easily a ring thicker than normal men, their necks wider than their heads. After disembarking, they formed two ranks and stared straight ahead.
A pair of black leather boots entered the major's sight. Seeing their distinctive python pattern, the major instantly recognized that the supreme head of Security Headquarters had arrived. He immediately leaned forward in deep deference. A sudden gust tore his military cap away, baring a shiny bald head, but he didn't dare go pick it up.
The boots stopped before the major. "Look up. Stand straight."
With a crisp snap of his boots, the major snapped to attention, chest thrust out, chin up, the muscles on his forehead tensing with effort.
Before him stood a woman in military uniform, her hair pinned up, oversized sunglasses concealing half her face, while her exposed lips were painted with fiery red lipstick.
She had an incredible figure, yet she was also remarkably tall, standing half a head taller even than the excessively muscular soldiers around her.
"To Lab Bay 4."
"Yes, ma'am!" The major roared with all his might, then jogged back. In the blink of an eye, he drove up an open-top off-road vehicle and stopped in front of the woman. She boarded, while the escorting soldiers climbed into the following vehicles. The convoy roared off toward Laboratory Building 4.
Just as they were arriving before the doors of Building 4, the woman suddenly said, "To the base main building!"
The major cranked the steering wheel, the off-road vehicle's tires screeching against the ground as it surged toward the massive base main building.
Midway there, a terrifying bolt of lightning suddenly cleaved the sky. A column of lightning thick as a skyscraper struck straight into the base, instantly obliterating several lightning rods! The base plunged into darkness for an instant before emergency lights began flickering on one after another.
Heavy rain—no, it could hardly be called rain anymore; it was water pouring straight out of the sky, washing over everything below. Everyone was soaked in an instant, and rainwater on the ground submerged the tires in the blink of an eye.
Yet a faint luminescence emanated from the woman's body, leaving her completely dry. All the rainwater deflected away automatically upon approaching her.
She lightly tapped the vehicle floor with her boot, gazing at the main building, her thoughts unknown. After a moment, she suddenly said, "Back to Laboratory Building 4."
The major did not understand, nor did he care to ask; he simply executed the order silently, driving the vehicle back to Laboratory Building 4.
The laboratory building's doors opened, and a gale brought a deluge of rainwater sweeping inside, drenching everyone within the entrance. Only after all the off-road vehicles drove inside did the doors slowly grind shut.
Everyone stood stiff as statues, not daring to take a loud breath.
Among Umbrella Company's three titans, the head of R&D was a technical madman completely indifferent to the lives of outsiders. The intelligence chief was a venomous viper whose hands were responsible for countless disappearances every year. But the one before them was forever the most overbearing, the very pinnacle of individual martial might.
Back when capturing that superhuman, many had whispered behind closed doors that had she not happened to be on assignment in the Arctic, so many people wouldn't have had to die—she could have taken down the superhuman single-handedly.
Now, contrary to her usual demeanor, she did not immediately issue orders, but instead gazed in the direction of the main building.
In the base main building, inside a top-tier laboratory, power had yet to be restored. The room was shrouded in darkness, with only the dim crimson glow of emergency lights faintly illuminating the surroundings.
A researcher's foot suddenly kicked against something. He stumbled and crashed heavily to the ground. The transparent box he had been carrying fell and struck the floor, and the test tube held in a strictly vertical position at its center tilted to the side. The liquid inside the test tube abruptly boiled, rapidly melting the glass walls. Moments later, the box melted as well, and the pool of eerie blue liquid began evaporating and vanishing at a visible rate.
"No—!!" The researcher shrieked in absolute terror, scrambling up and bolting toward the exit. But the door remained unyielding; the switch showed zero response.
In the event of an accident at the base, all exits to this laboratory would instantly lock down, followed by three meters of concrete poured on the outside, sealing the lab off entirely.
Chapter 783