Chapter 132 – Fire Seed (1)
◎ LAK0017 ◎
Starships flew past from high above, their silver-white streamlined designs resembling soaring seagulls with outstretched wings.
As they approached the city, transparent energy shields activated, and the starships decelerated into the platform. The energy pillars imprinted with the Lu’s logo automatically docked, and passengers disembarked, chatting and dispersing towards various exits. If someone from below District C stood here, they would undoubtedly widen their eyes in surprise because the Lu’s starships, long thought to have vanished, seemed unaffected, continuing their regular operations.
Before their eyes stood an enormous three-dimensional city.
The weather was clear, sunlight abundant, even the air felt remarkably fresh, carrying the fragrance unique to flora.
Highly intelligent robots and hovercars were engaged in cleaning, transporting, and patrolling tasks.
Ultramodern skyscrapers, equipped with self-cleaning glass and fully automated elevators, towered into the clouds. Intersecting sky bridges and pedestrian walkways interconnected the entire city like transparent ribbons, occasionally dotted by figures on skateboards or parkour enthusiasts, whistling past slow-moving sightseeing spheres.
On both sides of the streets, colossal billboards and holographic posters updated in real-time, delivering firsthand life information to the residents.
All passersby adorned intricately customized accessories. A gentle touch projected holographic images—a premium feature unique to District B.
The initial impression the city conveyed: cleanliness, modernity, orderliness, barely affected by the aftermath of doomsday.
Another starship returned, docking at the high-rise exclusive channel. The hatch opened, and He Qiuhong, clad in a dark grey suit, briskly descended.
The secretary team waiting at the platform promptly approached. A young woman in her early twenties held flowers, warmly addressing, “Commander, welcome back to the Northern Base.”
“Your schedule for today is as follows: a half-hour meeting with the Logistics Minister at 10 o’clock, then at 10:40…” He Qiuhong’s administrative secretary, Ye Zimei, dutifully began reporting.
“Let’s talk about these later,” He Qiuhong raised a hand to interrupt her subordinate’s report. The overnight flight had left her fatigued; she rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Have the two mutated zombies captured by ‘Tustan’ been delivered to Dr. Ning’s laboratory?”
“Yes, Captain Yin Xiao personally escorted them, and Dr. Ning has received them,” came the reply.
He Qiuhong nodded in satisfaction. Despite Yin Xiao’s unruly nature, he was dependable when it came to tasks.
“How is General Ye’s health?” she inquired.
“Physically, he’s doing alright,” Ye Zimei carefully chose her words. “He’s been sleeping soundly these days and even had two extra bowls of food.”
He Qiuhong paused, a hint of concern furrowing her brow. “…But his mood isn’t great?” she prodded.
“Something has been bothering him,” Ye Zimei murmured softly.
“What happened?” He Qiuhong’s steps halted abruptly.
Glancing around discreetly, Ye Zimei lowered her voice, “Two inspectors from the Central Court arrived.”
“Inspectors? Under what pretext?” He Qiuhong’s expression turned tense.
“They’re here regarding Dr. Ning’s ongoing research project. They strongly object to it, alleging that he’s withholding classified Alliance information. They’ve demanded Dr. Ning’s team publicly disclose their research progress. It’s been a tug-of-war with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs for the past couple of days.”
“Hmph,” He Qiuhong scoffed. “Dr. Ning is a free agent now, conducting independent research funded directly by the Northern Base. Even if they want to interfere, they probably won’t find a legitimate reason.”
“Right, right!” Ye Zimei nodded vigorously, then hesitated, biting her lip.
“Is there something else?” He Qiuhong sensed she had more to say.
“Well… Commander, during your absence, two S-level awakeners… were taken away by Tokushima (District B16),” Ye Zimei’s voice grew softer, her head bowing lower.
He Qiuhong, with a relatively composed expression, managed to ask, “Which type?”
“One was a lightning-type awakener, and the other…” Ye Zimei struggled to swallow, her expression on the verge of tears, “a weapons expert, the chief designer of the ‘Hell Scythe’ firearms…”
In the post-apocalyptic world, S-level awakeners became crucial strategic assets, and the quantity of S-levels also determined the upper limit of development for a region.
The Northern Base boasted a million high level awakeners, making them exceptionally powerful within the Alliance. However, what saddened He Qiuhong was their scarcity of S-levels in District B, barely reaching a number in the single digits, and now, two more had been taken away…
He Qiuhong’s heart raced with frustration. “They took our people, won’t you take them back?!”
Ye Zimei sounded somewhat helpless. “We did, but the envoys we sent also switched sides…”
He Qiuhong felt a pang of anxiety. “Issue an immediate district-wide commission. Find a batch of eloquent speakers.”
“Furthermore, open wide recruitment. If S-levels from other districts show any inclination towards the Northern Base, regardless of conditions, agree first and find ways to retain them at all costs.”
“Yes, Commander,” Ye Zimei acknowledged with a slight whimper.
Reflecting on the Throne Race competition she witnessed in Ferrara these past few days, He Qiuhong paused before adding, “We’ve always underestimated the awakeners in the lower districts. There are plenty of outstanding awakeners there too. This recruitment drive, send a copy to the lower districts as well.”
The CDE districts? Ye Zimei was surprised. Having grown up in the Northern Base, she had never set foot in the lower districts. However, she had heard from others that those areas suffered severe damage from the apocalypse, with most cities being overrun by zombies. Could there truly still be powerful untamed awakeners there?
Yet, as the directive came from the leadership, she nodded in agreement, “Understood!”
*
Tongwan, Fifth Hospital.
Outside the special care ward, Lin Youyou covered her face, her voice trembling. “…Is it really okay?”
“I don’t know,” Su Cha shook his head.
“He insisted on coming along,” Song Ke added.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s not our business~” Xu Xing chimed in.
Lin Youyou shifted her fingers, stealing a glance at the unexpected guest, sighing inwardly. Although she had requested this person herself, he was the highest executive in Ferrara. Would his presence here in Tongwan not cause a diplomatic incident?
The “unexpected guest,” Ilya, wasn’t dressed in his signature velvet suit. Instead, he wore understated black and white attire, a baseball cap firmly pressed down on his golden hair, concealing most of his icy blue eyes. Otherwise, his arrival in the city would have surely caused a stir.
After meeting V587 in the tower that night, Ilya agreed to fulfill Lin Youyou’s wish. Using the reason “memory storage is the most private secret of humanity; I need to meet Lin Xiu in person to confirm the authenticity of your words,” he tagged along with them to Tongwan.
Although Ilya had been very friendly and approachable throughout, given the cautionary tales of many who had been deceived, Song Ke and the others didn’t dare underestimate him. They remained on high alert, fearing he might pull some kind of stunt and quietly arrived in Tongwan.
Following the group into the hospital room, Ilya glanced at the barely recognizable Lin Xiu for a moment before diverting his gaze, casually surveying the surroundings.
Song Ke stepped back slowly, whispering to Zhuang Qingyan beside her, “How do we… open that memo?”
“If the person is still alive, it’s usually accessed through biometric information or brainwave connections.”
Song Ke’s eyes widened. Lin Xiu had turned into a zombie, devoid of fingerprints, irises, even her facial features had completely transformed. Where would they find biometric information?
“She’s brain-dead. Brainwave connection won’t work, right?”
“Exactly.”
Song Ke leaned closer to Zhuang Qingyan’s ear, almost touching his cheek, “He just glanced at Lin Xiu.”
“Do you think… he just wanted to come out and play?” Since Ilya had been created, he hadn’t left Ferrara. Song Ke suspected that he might have used the excuse of fulfilling the wish to venture out with a new body.
“I think you should lower your voice; he might have heard that,” Zhuang Qingyan advised.
Normally, Zhuang Qingyan would have educated her on the notion of boundaries between genders for such an unconscious display of intimacy. But now, he remained calm, showing no hint of emotion in his tone.
Song Ke quickly covered her mouth, and true to his prediction, Ilya glanced at her lightly with unclear meaning.
“Memory projection requires a carrier. What are you planning to use?” Ilya turned to Lin Youyou.
“Anything will do. Whatever works best,” Lin Youyou replied, already prepared with various types of terminals, screens, computers, and storage hubs, as if she was offering a selection.
Ilya swiftly acted, his irises shimmering with an unusual color as vast amounts of data flashed through his eyes. Extracting the memory unit named “Lin Xiu,” he transferred it to the new model screen. It appeared like a download, and a progress bar immediately displayed on the screen.
Lu Xiaoyu took the screen, using his abilities to rapidly construct a stable environment to prevent Lin Xiu’s memory from dispersing due to data turbulence before it could form.
“Her original body has died, so the saved memories will slowly rebuild based on consciousness. There might be a period of confusion initially, but over time, they will become more refined. After all, artificial intelligence needs continuous learning,” Ilya remarked cryptically.
When the progress bar reached 100%, the screen blinked and then went black.
After a few seconds, a clear holographic projection slowly emerged, depicting a young woman in her twenties, wearing a scientist’s lab coat. She held her head, looking slightly disoriented, her eyes vacant yet clouded.
Ilya completed his task and left with Lu Xiaoyu from the hospital room. Song Ke glanced at him but made no move.
From her position, she could only see Ilya stepping into the hallway and stopping beside Lu Xiaoyu, who was basking in the sunlight.
Lin Youyou widened her eyes slightly, unable to contain her excitement, “Big sister…”
Lin Xiu, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of memories, appeared a bit confused. She gazed at Lin Youyou with puzzlement, “Who are you…”
Suddenly, her expression changed, “No, wait, who are you calling ‘big sister’? Do I look that old?”
Lin Youyou, brimming with joy, choked up instantly, “I-I’m Youyou.”
When Lin Xiu passed away, she was in her prime, not much older than Lin Youyou currently. It was understandable that she couldn’t recognize her.
The holographic projection occasionally flashed with chaotic streams of information. Due to the death of her original body, Lin Xiu’s state was highly unstable. She gazed at the face resembling hers and softly exclaimed, “Youyou? Are you Youyou? How… how did you grow so much?”
“Big sister!” Lin Youyou cautiously reached out her finger and lightly touched Lin Xiu across the gap. Two tears trickled down her cheeks.
Lin Xiu hugged her briefly, displaying warmth for a moment, then pushed her away with disgust, shaking her hand.
“Who’s this con artist? Trying to deceive me?” Lin Xiu was furious, “Our family’s Youyou is just eleven!”
“I… I’m really your sister!” Lin Youyou cried and laughed at the absurdity, immediately presenting her identity information.
Lin Xiu stared at it for a moment, but then her consciousness became confused again. She covered her head, starting to flicker.
Song Ke couldn’t help but chuckle. She was starting to believe that Lin Xiu and Lin Youyou were indeed sisters. Their nonsensical way of speaking was uncannily similar.
Lin Xiu lowered her head and, unexpectedly, discovered her fully zombified body. She instinctively exclaimed, “Oh my, what’s this? Mummy cosplay?” Then, she noticed the patient information at the bedside, and her pupils dilated suddenly, “Wait a minute… is this me? Am I dead?”
Lin Youyou nodded expressionlessly, “Ah, yes, you’re already dead. It’s been fourteen years. I extracted your memoirs, and now you’re an artificial intelligence with autonomous consciousness.”
“Memoirs…” Lin Xiu murmured. “I remember now. I did memory storage…”
Lin Youyou took some time to explain the sequence of events to Lin Xiu, and the two sisters finally recognized each other, embracing each other in tears.
“Sister, what happened fourteen years ago? Why did you suddenly pass away?” After reminiscing, Lin Youyou asked with a serious expression.
Recalling that last memory, even in the holographic projection, Lin Xiu’s face turned pale.
“Passed away? Yes… I remember something important, but I can’t recall it.” It felt like a missing storage chip in her mind. Lin Xiu held her head, groaning in pain.
“Loak… radiation… explosion… L…” Her eyes reddened, a splitting headache struck her. The holographic projection flickered continuously, replaying the terror and fear from the moment before her death, but because the memories weren’t transmitted back to the cloud in time, the fragmented pieces remained incomplete.
“Sister, stop thinking about it for now.” Lin Youyou felt sorry for her and quickly intervened.
“Okay, I won’t think about it…” Lin Xiu gradually calmed down. The screen stabilized, and she slowly raised her eyes, unexpectedly catching sight of the man sitting by the window. Her expression first went blank, then blinked in disbelief, “Vincent? Dr. Zhuang? You are… Dr. Zhuang, right?!”
Zhuang Qingyan’s finger twitched in surprise; he hadn’t expected Lin Xiu to suddenly attack him.
‘Uh-oh,’ Song Ke whistled silently in her mind.
Zhuang Qingyan pursed his lips and quickly glanced at her. Song Ke responded with an innocent expression. Vincent, Dr. Zhuang—she had no idea.
“I am Lin Xiu, a records officer of the G Group at the Qinglan Research Institute’s Loak Branch. I officially joined the Ignition project team in June of the New Calendar’s 30th year,” Lin Xiu stated.
Lin Xiu looked extremely excited, holding her cheeks in disbelief, “You surely don’t know me, but I can’t believe I’m seeing you in person.”
“I’m your idol!”
Lin Youyou coughed twice, “Sister, that’s not…”
“Sorry, sorry! You’re my fan!” Lin Youyou covered her forehead in disbelief.
Lin Xiu’s holographic image excitedly moved around, unaware of her slip-ups, “I apologize, I was too excited. I’ve read all your publicly available genetic engineering papers. It’s a huge honor for me to join the project team under your personal guidance!”
“Dr. Zhuang, how did you… become younger?” Lin Xiu began uncertainly, “You seem more handsome too, with more hair. Did you get a hairline transplant?”
Song Ke maintained a composed expression, inwardly amused: Hahaha!
Zhuang Qingyan sighed, intervening in her nonsense, “Lin Xiu, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, the Loak incident made us lose a… remarkable colleague like you.”
Song Ke struggled to contain her laughter, looking up at the sky, pretending not to hear Zhuang Qingyan’s attempt at misleading.
“No, no, I’m just a records officer. I’m far from remarkable,” Lin Xiu shyly smiled. Suddenly, her gaze dulled, as if recalling something, “Records officer… Dr. Zhuang, I have important things to report to you.”
“Report… Experimental subjects… lost… L…” She repeated some fragmented phrases aimlessly.
Zhuang Qingyan furrowed his brow slightly, attempting to help her gather her thoughts. “If you’re talking about the loss of experimental subjects, after the Loak incident, Qinglan conducted a detailed check internally. All registered experimental subjects died, and there were no instances of the losses you mentioned. You might be mistaken.”
“If it’s before the incident, that’s even more impossible…”
“LAK0017.” Lin Xiu swiftly reported a string of codes.
As if frozen in place by a spell, Zhuang Qingyan abruptly ceased speaking upon hearing these numbers. Every muscle in his body tensed.
“The lost experimental subject is LAK0017,” Lin Xiu repeated.
“LAK0017, according to the experimental logs, on November 7th of the New Calendar’s 33rd year, due to the failure of the 1314th gene fusion, the original cells died. This experimental subject no longer had research value,” Zhuang Qingyan spoke in a low voice. “LAK0017, along with LAK0117 and LAK0366 from the same batch, were destroyed. It was personally—cough, I, at the center, personally confirmed the results.”
November 7th of the New Calendar’s 33rd year was a Thursday, the fixed date for the concentrated destruction of failed experimental subjects.
November 8th of the New Calendar’s 33rd year was a Friday, the day the Loak nuclear leakage erupted, engulfing the Ignition project team in flames.
“Destroyed? Yes… yesterday, Ming destroyed them all,” Lin Xiu muttered.
Her memory halted on the eve of the accident, shrouded in a thick fog that she couldn’t penetrate. Lin Xiu tugged at her hair, and the holographic projection flickered in disarray. “No, it’s not like that… I saw it, they weren’t destroyed!”
Lin Xiu suddenly screamed frantically.
“—Ming took them away!”
**TN
The arc title “火种” (huǒzhǒng) translates to “Fire Seed” or “Seed of Fire” (also Tinder) in English. The term can vary in its context based on its usage.
In some contexts, “火种” might refer to the literal seeds of a fire-producing plant or a concept related to creating fire.
However, in a more metaphorical or symbolic sense, it could denote the initial catalyst or source that ignites a significant change or revolution, akin to a spark that sets off a larger event. This term might be used in literature, storytelling, or philosophical discussions to signify the beginning or origin of something influential or transformative.
Happy New Year! Wishing you a fantastic year ahead filled with joy, success, and wonderful moments! <3
