Chapter Seventy-Five: The Porcelain Doll Shatters

There was no other way; the more difficult it was to open, the more it proved the value of what was inside. I had no choice but to repeat my old trick.

Finally, after prying open the fifth layer of the small box, I could at last see what was hidden within.

It was a block, about the size of a child's fist, wrapped tightly in tin foil.

Could it be… could it really be the extraterrestrial meatball the old man secretly left behind?

I peeled back the foil, and sure enough, inside was a shriveled piece of meat!

The exterior was almost burnt to charcoal; if I hadn't squeezed it a few times, I would have thought it was just a lump of coal.

Strangely, I felt a vague sense of unease, and what was more, the meat seemed almost to have a heartbeat, vibrating faintly in my palm.

Could this thing be alive!?

No, impossible, absolutely impossible.

Suddenly, I recalled the dream—the man in the trench coat, how a piece of flesh fell off him and kept wriggling, before he stomped it with his own foot.

Damn! What on earth are these things?

Is this world truly the one I thought I knew? Even in this age where exoskeletons and prosthetics are commonplace, this substance was beyond all reason.

Just like the nightmares that could never be killed, their secrets remained impenetrable.

In that instant, the shriveled meat block in my hand became a hot potato—one wrong move and it could spell disaster.

I hesitated, turning it over and over in my mind; this thing could be invaluable, or it could bring unimaginable harm.

In the end, I tossed it into my dimensional space—let it try to escape from there, if it could. When the time was right, I would study it further.

Returning to the first floor, just as I was about to leave, I realized something was off. Bai Ye was himself a researcher.

Yet in his letter, he called this white-haired old man “teacher”? Could it be that the long-dead man was also a scientist?

If not, why would he have secretly kept a piece of that meat for himself?

With this realization, I wandered the mansion again. Whether I found anything or not, it gave me some peace of mind.

Better to search than to risk missing something crucial.

In truth, for a long time—or perhaps even now—my dream was never to become the greatest soldier or possess unmatched strength.

My dream was fanciful, unrealistic, the sort of wish children often voice.

I wanted to be a scientist. To have a laboratory of my own, to spend my days immersed in research—a comforting thought.

“Hey! There really is a hidden door, a secret cellar beneath the first floor! Fourth Master, go take a look first.” I glanced at the dog beside me. It stuck out its nose and sniffed hard at the entrance.

Then it wagged its tail at me, its two 24-carat eyes staring in utter bewilderment.

Ah, so it won’t help now. I’d have to do it myself.

Still, the dog had been a great help so far; it deserved a break.

Well, what do you know—there really was a laboratory below, and in the center, something like an operating table.

On it was tied a corpse, long dead.

The old man was truly something else—he’d actually captured a zombie himself for research. Never judge a book by its cover.

I rummaged through the place, and finally my attention fell upon a handwritten notebook on the research table.

“Through my research, I have discovered that these corpses mutate not only through direct infection by bites or scratches. The virus already spreads through the very air we breathe and the water we drink if it’s not boiled. To be precise, all humans are virus carriers; it’s only after death that the disease manifests and transforms people into corpses…”

“But the virus in the air is extremely faint—enough to infect, but not enough to trigger mutation while alive. Recently, I accidentally drank water contaminated with zombie flesh. I can feel my body growing weaker by the day and have started to run a fever. I must record this… though I fear the information will never spread…”

“And most importantly, I have found that the speed of transformation varies: bites cause the fastest mutations, sometimes within minutes. Next are scratches and other means, such as drinking contaminated water or ingesting the innards or blood of monsters.”

“But it matters little; the professors and scientists outside should be able to work this out in time—the truth will be known to all. Yet I still cannot understand the source of this disaster, why the world suddenly turned upside down.”

“Glaciers melting… rising sea levels flooding much of the West and coastal countries… plague rampant, natural disasters, even the sun itself extinguished. Is this the fate of humanity, the price we must pay for all we’ve done to harm nature?”

“And what of the ninety-nine pillars of heaven said to exist in legend—who started that tale? Are there truly ninety-nine pillars, and is the myth about their activation real? No one knows… The world is on the verge of collapse; no one knows.”

“One last note… I was unable to learn much from that piece of meat, but I could sense that it was alive. When I held it in my palm, I could feel it faintly pulsing. It’s terrifying—what creature did that extraterrestrial meat come from?”

“That brat Bai Ye betrayed his teacher and ancestors. Depending on power, he even tried to bribe me with money. Have I, Han Xiang, lived so long just to care about fame and fortune? I lack for nothing! Ever since he seized my research material, he’s never contacted me again—perhaps he’s too ashamed. At least he has some self-awareness…”

“If anyone discovers this place, let me leave you a gift. Move aside the research table, and below you’ll find a hidden compartment I hollowed out, containing the insights of a lifetime. If you’re interested in research, take it. In my prime, I, Han Xiang, was a leading figure—alas, none can escape the ravages of age…”

With a heavy heart I closed the diary. It was, in essence, a private notebook. Clearly the old man kept Bai Ye’s letter with him out of resentment.

And Bai Ye, bringing the untransformed old man into the chemical plant, was certainly not out of ignorance—he must have had his reasons for not exposing him as a corpse.

There was a great deal of valuable information here, and many of Han’s questions were the very ones I wished to understand.

There were too many strange and unknowable things in this post-apocalyptic era; this was, after all, a time on the brink of doomsday.

“So… everyone is a virus carrier; as soon as they die, they become a corpse.”

I muttered softly. This revelation had not, as Han guessed, become common knowledge. Even I had only just learned it.

Even the air we breathe is poisonous—no wonder the virus can’t be eradicated and no cure has ever been found.

I retrieved the sum of his life’s insights. In these times, there was little opportunity for academic research, but having something was better than nothing.

It was a priceless treasure, one that fulfilled my long-held wish to become a scientist.