This Terrible Idea Might Actually Work

[ ID: Chu Guang Gene Sequence: Administrator (Stage 6) Level: LV.40 → LV.50 —Basic Attributes— Strength: 45 → 60 (+15) Agility: 35 → 45 (+10) Physique: 40 → 50 (+10) Perception: 39 → 50 (+11) Intelligence: 40 → 53 (+13) ] [— Talents: 1. Wild Instinct: In extreme states, can awaken wild instinct. For its duration, all attributes increase by 10–15%, and fatigue accumulation rate increases by 20–30%. 2. Mental Deterrence: Can exert psychological intimidation on fully sapient life-forms weaker than oneself, eroding their will to resist. 3. Hive Mind: Can share 3–15% of Intelligence attribute with fully sapient life-forms weaker than oneself, granting them inspiration and a boost to thinking speed. This effect is influenced by factors such as distance, number of individuals, and receptivity, with a maximum range of 10m. 4. Call to Victory: Vocal cords vibrate at a unique frequency, infusing shouts with courage and inspiring an invincible resolve in those who resonate. 5. "Unanalyzable." (New) ] Shelter 404, medical bay. Sitting on the scanner bed, Chu Guang stared at the razor blade twisted like a fried dough twist in his hand, his eyes filled with disbelief. Last night, he had just returned to the shelter from Xizhou City. Not long after lying down, he had had a vague, hazy dream and woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, he handed the job of washing the sheets over to Xiao Qi and immediately contacted Heya to schedule a physical examination. Unsurprisingly, his gene sequence development had broken through once again! Truth be told, Chu Guang had some understanding of his body's condition, but he hadn't expected it to reach the absurd degree where he could twist a metal blade into a pretzel with his bare hands. The skin of his palm showed a faint scratch; the blood on the blade wasn't even dry yet, but the scratch was already nearly impossible to find. It wasn't just strength. From the keratinocytes on the surface of his skin to the capillaries and muscle tissue beneath the dermis, and even the internal organs and skeleton within, everything was developing in an inhuman direction. Even though the macro-structure and contours of his body had not undergone any obvious changes, in reality, it had already been substituted with something else entirely. As Heya put it, only about two percent of an ordinary human's DNA was normally expressed, which was practically the limit a biological human could withstand. Yet his DNA had been meticulously engineered, and the proportion of selective expression across his entire gene pool had already reached four percent—or even higher! To make an imperfect but sufficiently vivid analogy: an ordinary human was a private car bought off the market, with four wheels and an engine. Performance certainly varied by make and model, but running on a highway was never an issue. An Awakened was an F1 race car. Though it also had four wheels and an engine, anyone could see that it was a completely different beast from a regular car. Even if it could drive on a highway, no one would give it a license plate. Chu Guang's situation was even more extreme. The engine in his F1 wasn't some ordinary combustion engine; the four wheels and engine had simply been replaced with four plasma thrusters and a controlled fusion engine! Where others drove on the road with wheels, he hovered right above the asphalt at supersonic speeds! It could no longer be called a car; it had turned into something else entirely. And indeed, that was the reality. A 1.1-ton suit of power armor felt like nothing more than a down jacket draped over his shoulders. Others relied on the energy from a nuclear fusion core to drive their armor, but he could move around freely in power armor relying purely on his physical strength. Chu Guang estimated that if he were to transmigrate back to his original world in the flesh, he would most likely be dissected as an alien. Though there didn't seem to be anything wrong with that thought. After all, looking at this ridiculous stat panel, he felt he was genuinely no different from an extraterrestrial. The base Strength value of an ordinary person was 5, with a punch exerting roughly 50 kilograms of force. His Strength was 60, which was twelve times that—600 kilograms? Of course, that was just static punching force. Based on simple momentum calculations, the impact force generated when an ordinary person struck a target could actually be one to two times that number, while a trained person could reach three to five times. In other words— According to rough estimates, a single punch from him could unleash a ton of kinetic impact?! At the thought, Chu Guang's interest was piqued. He suddenly wanted to test just how destructive a full-power punch would be. However, just as he clenched his fist, he was interrupted by a sharp, light cough. "Don't do anything reckless." Looking at Heya glaring alertly at him, Chu Guang blinked, then gave an embarrassed smile and unclenched his fist. "I was just curious." "Curious about how many minutes it would take to demolish my lab?" Heya wore a helpless expression and continued: "I can give you the conclusion right now: a punch from you would be no different from getting hit by a truck. It's not just a matter of 'twelve times the strength'—your muscle fibers and bones have practically been replaced with a completely different 'material.' But I still advise you not to actually pick a fight with a truck. Even if you insist on trying, you'd better install a titanium alloy skeleton first. No matter how absurdly hard your bones are, they're still bones in the end." "I'm not that bored... By the way, what's that 'Unanalyzable' on the last line?" Chu Guang asked, suddenly noticing the bottom of his stat panel and looking at Heya. Knowing Chu Guang would ask, Heya pulled over a chair, sat opposite him, tapped open a holographic projection with her index finger, and gently slid it before him. A double helix unfolded in the projection, accompanied by lines of light-blue tags popping up alongside it. These graphical markers indicated the selectively expressed gene segments, the messenger RNA transcribed from them, and the protein chains formed under ribosomal processing. Though the biological process was presented quite intuitively in this report, Chu Guang still found himself completely bewildered. Evidently knowing this was beyond his knowledge base, Heya didn't beat around the bush and explained succinctly: "Unanalyzable means exactly what it sounds like. Some changes have occurred in your body, and it has begun synthesizing proteins I've never seen before and whose specific functions I can't determine. I don't want to give you a lecture starting from the basics of how genes affect biological traits, but you can understand it like this... a human body is like a construction site, and some bizarrely shaped bricks have appeared on your site, and they're building a structure whose purpose I can't decipher." "There are no similar precedents in the shelter's database, so I cannot infer the outcome of this change based on existing samples. We can only observe for a while." Chu Guang was slightly surprised. "An enhancement that even you can't identify?" "That's completely normal. I'm a researcher, not a fortune-teller. But don't be so certain it's an 'enhancement.'" The corners of Heya's mouth curved playfully. Leaning in slightly, she gave a mischievous grin. "What if it's some genetic disease? For instance, two extra heads suddenly sprouting from your shoulders isn't entirely impossible." Though the probability of that was practically zero. After studying him for so long, Heya was already certain that his genes were not naturally formed, but rather designed using knowledge beyond her understanding. Most of the residents in this shelter were like that. Their very existence was "Singularity-level" technology—or at least, they had one foot firmly planted past the threshold of conventional common sense. However, her goal was merely to scare him a little, so he wouldn't constantly rely on his monstrous physique to roam around recklessly without regard for his safety. Unfortunately, Chu Guang clearly wasn't intimidated. He merely chuckled at her ambiguous warning. "If it were really something like that, you wouldn't be telling me in such a joking tone." Leaning back in her chair, Heya gave a bored pout. "Fair enough. Next time, I'll adopt the tone of someone delivering a terminal diagnosis." Chu Guang chuckled. "So, what that change actually does remains to be seen?" Heya nodded crisply. "Correct. I recommend increasing the frequency of your check-ups from once every seven days to once every three days—once every two days would be ideal. Frankly speaking, I'm very interested in the changes in your body. If I can observe the complete process of your physiological shifts, it will be of immense help to my current research." Feeling a bit self-conscious under her burning gaze, Chu Guang cleared his throat, swiped his finger to close the translucent holographic screen, and buttoned up his shirt. "After the Tide passes. I'll consider it then, but I probably won't have that much time lately." Watching Chu Guang get up from the scanner bed, Heya suddenly remembered something and spoke up: "Right, speaking of the Tide, there's something I need to tell you." Seeing Heya's sudden solemnity, Chu Guang dropped his playful demeanor and grew serious as well. "What is it?" "Thea." Hearing this unfamiliar name, Chu Guang furrowed his brow slightly. "Thea?" Heya nodded, continuing with a grave expression. "A new mother body has been born in the city center. According to the clues provided by Yu, its name seems to be Thea. Our researchers sampled the spores active in Qingquan City and discovered a mutant strain different from previous years among a large batch of samples." "A mutant strain?" Chu Guang paused. "Didn't past Tides have them?" Heya explained patiently: "Of course there were in past years. The Tide is inherently how mutant slime mold expands its population, and they evolve new adaptations during this process. However, this year is different from previous years." Chu Guang remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Heya paused for a moment, attempting to explain in layman's terms he could understand. "According to the data I gathered from Boulder City, although mutant slime mold underwent collective evolution during the Tide in previous years, it was typically directed toward rapid reproduction, rapid healing, and tougher armor." Gradually sensing something amiss, Chu Guang asked cautiously: "And this year?" "This year, it's fire resistance." What the hell?! Chu Guang was instantly stunned. "Fire resistance?!" Seeing Chu Guang's shock, Heya nodded gently. "Bizarre as it sounds, that's what we observed." "Wait... is there really a carbon-based life-form that can't be burned to death by fire?" "It's not that they can't be burned, but rather that the spores released by this new mutant slime mold exhibit physiological traits never seen before. For example, when subjected to unbearable heat, the macro-carbon chains inside the spore sacs rapidly bind with surrounding oxygen molecules under the influence of biocatalysts. The volume expands explosively until the vesicles burst, releasing vast amounts of carbon dioxide." "Once this process is complete, the spores die rapidly, but the air in the entire area is depleted just as swiftly. According to simulation results from the Biology Research Institute, under standard atmospheric pressure, when the spore concentration index reaches 500, it can drop the oxygen content in the area from 20.95% to 10.1% within half a minute—at the cost of consuming only 80% of the spores. If the spore concentration index reaches 800, the process takes only ten seconds." "Add to that the fact that most conventional combustion processes consume oxygen themselves, and that the release of spores from fruiting bodies is continuous, and the oxygen levels in the area will plummet even further, weakening or even completely halting the ongoing redox reactions." In daily life, most combustible materials extinguish when the oxygen level drops below 14% after catching fire. If these mutated spores could truly drop oxygen levels to 10.1%, what would be affected wouldn't just be incendiary bombs—even synthetic fuel engines and generators might stall out. Fortunately, the minimum oxygen concentration required for hydrogen combustion was 5.9%; otherwise, all the Alliance's hydrogen-fueled air batteries would be knocked out as well. Chu Guang's expression finally shifted. To deal with this Tide, the Alliance had prepared nearly a thousand tons of incendiary bombs and close to three hundred thousand tons of fuel for making napalm. And now his researcher was telling him they might be useless?! "Don't the fruiting bodies of the slime mold need to breathe?" Heya's expression turned grim. "That is precisely what puzzles me. If those slime molds create a massive 'anoxic zone' within Qingquan City, their own biological activities will clearly be affected as well. I can only speculate that the fruiting bodies produced by this new broodmother strain have a higher tolerance for anoxic environments. After all... they originally came from the sky." Chu Guang went silent for a moment, pressing his index finger between his eyebrows. "Discovering the problem early is always a good thing... I don't believe any organism in this world exists without a weakness." "I share your view. Perhaps in actual combat, the performance of incendiary bombs won't be as pessimistic as the calculations suggest. Besides, we're thinking of other solutions... You didn't rely exclusively on incendiary bombs, did you?" Heya asked, looking at Chu Guang with concern. "Not quite. We wouldn't pin all our hopes for victory on a single weapon," Chu Guang shook his head, sighing. "But frankly speaking, incendiary bombs play an irreplaceable role against mutant slime mold. They offer the best cost-efficiency and can clear vast numbers of corpses. If incendiary bombs can't achieve their expected results, this war will be much harder than anticipated." Was it because incendiary bombs had been used too much? It seemed so. In past Tides, Boulder City had always used the tactic of blanketing the area with incendiary bombs before mercenaries charged in to demolish the nests. Even the Alliance had done the same during previous Tides, and had even purchased several larger, more efficient pieces of ordnance from Boulder City. Chu Guang sank into thought. If that slime mold was allowed to keep reproducing, it would become an even greater disaster sooner or later. "We have to resolve the threat in Qingquan City's center once and for all." Just then, a thought struck him, and he spoke up: "Right... what if we let a broodmother devour a broodmother?" This wasn't his own original idea; he had seen players discussing it on the forum earlier. Some players had even egged on Luo Yu, telling him to take Yu out and see if it could eat the other side. He remembered Heya mentioning before that mutant slime molds had an "intraspecific competition" relationship. Fruiting bodies belonging to different hive minds frequently attacked and devoured each other to compete for sunlight, territory, and organic matter. Hearing Chu Guang's question, Heya was momentarily taken aback. "Let a broodmother devour a broodmother... That—well, it's not entirely impossible. Theoretically, mutant slime molds with significant DNA differences can indeed devour each other. It's one of the ways they acquire genetic information and strengthen themselves. However, a broodmother devouring another broodmother is truly without precedent." Not only had the Alliance never encountered such a thing, but even the Enterprise, whose tentacles spanned the eastern half of the Mid-Continent, had never seen it. Because the Alliance and the Enterprise had previously signed a research agreement regarding mutant slime mold, data and materials from observations and research conducted by the Enterprise and its allies over the past two centuries were largely accessible to the Alliance. Yet she had searched through all records and found no such extreme case. And most critically, Yu's main body was on Floor B6 of the shelter. Its mass filled the entire server room; forget taking an elevator, it couldn't even fit through the server room door. In the future, it might even fuse completely with all of Floor B6. How could it possibly devour anything? Letting that "Thea" into the shelter was even less realistic. One slip-up, and the entire shelter would suffer the same fate that Floor B6 once had. Seeing the stunned Heya, Chu Guang's eyes flickered slightly, and he continued: "What if shelter residents equipped with biological prosthetics voluntarily injected their biological prosthetics into the mother body or the broodmother?" If this method could directly obliterate the broodmother, he could even consider cramming players into artillery shells to conduct a "surgical" precision strike against it. Of course, this wasn't aimed at that newly born mother body. It was aimed at the downtown broodmother! While it might sound a bit unscrupulous, after surviving a winter and birthing a giant mass of "new life," that thing ought to be quite weak right now, wouldn't it? There was no better opportunity! Heya opened her mouth, and only after quite a while did she manage to squeeze out a sentence with a bizarre expression: "Who... whose idea was this?" Chu Guang sighed. "Won't it work?" "No..." Heya shook her head, her expression subtle and strange. "My take is quite the opposite. This terrible idea might actually work." Chu Guang: "!!!" Holy shit? It really could work?!