Chapter 394: Weak Spot
“Worst case, he might even help discover how humans and zombie energy can coexist!”
“Don’t you want to know? This would be a historic breakthrough for humanity!” Zhuang Mobai looked excited.
“Can you complete your research within three months?” Lu Weiyi asked.
“I need to start the research first for that to even be possible.” Zhuang Mobai dodged the question.
“But I don’t have that kind of time,” Lu Weiyi replied.
“Right now, I think your current project has a better chance of success—at least there’s a physical specimen to work with.”
Zhuang Mobai had initially been working on a method to purify crystal cores using snowmelt. Now that there was some progress, he had handed that part off to others to speed things up and thrown himself into studying how to reduce zombie energy within ability users.
Lu Weiyi had given him half of Taozi as a specimen for that research. And just as it was starting to yield results, trouble started popping up with Cheng Chuan.
If there were enough personnel, Lu Weiyi wouldn’t mind conducting several projects at once. But after investigating the abilities of the other lab members, he found that none of them were on Zhuang Mobai’s level. As things stood, all research could only rest on his shoulders.
“This could be humanity’s last hope. Don’t you care about everyone else?” Xiu Na, who rarely spoke, was visibly emotional.
“Isn’t reducing the zombie energy in espers also for the sake of humanity?” Lu Weiyi countered.
“How can that be the same? Ordinary people are much more likely to be infected by zombie energy. They face a 99% mortality rate. But espers now have the purified cores. Even without a way to reduce internal zombie energy, their survival rate is up to 50%. That’s nearly half. Don’t you know which side should be prioritized?”
“But aren’t you aware of how low the production of purified cores is?” Lu Weiyi looked at her. “Besides…”
“I’m selfish.”
After all, there were more espers around him. Even with purified cores, advancing to SS-level required first lowering the accumulated zombie energy within, or else the risk remained high.
He had checked the number of peaches in the space—just a few. If he used them now, what about when it came time to reach SSS-level?
Not to mention, he wasn’t just responsible for his own squad. He now led the entire base’s military. Was he supposed to ignore the needs of other teams?
Xiu Na choked on his words, her chest heaving with anger.
Cheng Chuan stood nearby with his arms crossed. Just listening to their conversation, the information he gathered was already astonishing.
“Don’t you care about Mingxu and Ai Yi? You’re an esper—they’re not. Just a trace of zombie energy could kill them,” Zhuang Mobai asked pointedly.
“I won’t give them any chance of exposure,” Lu Weiyi replied coldly. “Besides, I’ve already sent requests to other bases to recruit researchers. Maybe by next year, we can form a dedicated team to study zombie energy.”
Zhuang Mobai remained silent, until Lu Weiyi continued, “If your current project is completed by then, I’ll appoint you as team lead. If not, well, I’m afraid that opportunity will go to someone else…”
Looking at Zhuang Mobai, usually composed and scholarly, now gnashing his teeth, Lu Weiyi felt quite satisfied. Zhuang Mingxu’s advice had been spot-on.
This man was a research fanatic. As long as you dangled something interesting in front of him, there was no need to push—he’d pursue it on his own.
Before, the peach that reduced zombie energy in espers was the carrot. Now it was Cheng Chuan.
“I truly admire your talent. But unfortunately, the initiative lies with me,” Lu Weiyi concluded, then pointed to Cheng Chuan. “Dr. Zhuang, can you examine him now?”
“I want him to stay stable and healthy before any research begins. I trust, for the sake of humanity, you know what to do.”
Finally, Lu Weiyi added, “Rest assured—every project you’ve worked on will bear your name when it’s published. No one will strip you of your fame or the credit for your contribution to humanity.”
“I believe you will leave a lasting mark on human history.”
Zhuang Mobai let out a laugh of frustration. “Mingxu really has taught you well. The once-mute little master who couldn’t speak without a therapist now rattles off speeches like a bureaucrat. Impressive.”
“You flatter me. Let’s go.” Lu Weiyi ignored the sarcasm.
Zhuang Mobai finally turned to Cheng Chuan. “Come with me.”
The examination wasn’t complicated. Lu Weiyi suspected Cheng Chuan’s current condition was due to a balance between zombie energy and his powers. Zhuang Mobai, being an expert, would understand it even better.
After professional testing, Zhuang Mobai became even more certain. “Although we haven’t figured out what caused the balance, the zombie energy in your body is gradually increasing. This means you’ll slowly become more like a zombie—until one day, you fully lose consciousness and become a monster.”
Cheng Chuan had already guessed this, so he wasn’t surprised. “Is there a way to suppress it?”
“I haven’t studied it, so how should I know?” Zhuang Mobai, in his fifties, still spoke like a sulky teen.
Cheng Chuan raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Lu Weiyi ignored them too, handling matters on his walkie-talkie, occasionally barking out commands or grumbling about how tedious it was.
“There are two methods,” Zhuang Mobai finally said. “First, reduce the zombie energy. I can try giving you a small amount of the substance we use to lower it, but I can’t guarantee the effect.”
Before anyone could respond, he glared at Lu Weiyi. “You know that stuff we researched was only ever effective on esper cores. But his case is special. His core resembles those of espers, yet his body is in a state of total balance. We don’t know what might happen.”
“Second, increase his power level. As for that…” Zhuang Mobai looked toward a sealed glass beaker on the lab bench. It held leftover snowwater that Lu Weiyi had previously given him. “We could try that. But it’s never been tested on a human…”
“It has,” Lu Weiyi interrupted.
Zhuang Mobai turned, surprised. “What happened?”
“I used it on two people bitten by zombies. One awakened powers, the other turned faster.” The one who awakened was Xu Sa.
“A 50-50 success rate,” Zhuang Mobai said with some regret. “If it were me, I would’ve logged all the data. But for now, without more experiments, I can’t predict the outcomes of either method.”
“What do you think?” Lu Weiyi looked at Cheng Chuan.
Cheng Chuan thought for a while, asked some detailed questions, then said, “Can I think about it?”
“Sure.” Lu Weiyi considered, then pulled out a Heaven’s Wrath Collar from his space. “But I can’t gamble with the lives of people in the base.”
Cheng Chuan stared at the collar for a while before accepting it. As they walked back upstairs, he turned it over in his hands—it looked like a dog collar. He felt both humiliated and helpless.
“Will you make me into a lab rat someday?” he asked.
“I’ll do my best to let you be an experimental subject with dignity.” Cheng Chuan’s situation was too unique—Lu Weiyi couldn’t promise not to study him. After all, Zhuang Mobai was right: this might be humanity’s only hope.
“Pfft, what difference does it make?” Cheng Chuan sneered.
“There is a difference,” Lu Weiyi turned to look at him. “In my eyes, you’re still a person—with someone you love, someone you care about.”
“That’s the backbone that keeps you alive—and also your greatest weakness.”
Cheng Chuan’s hand clenched tightly, his expression darkening with anger. “You’re threatening me with Xia Qiao.”
“It’s not a threat—just a guarantee for your cooperation,” Lu Weiyi didn’t deny it. “Of course, if you don’t want to cooperate, you can take advantage of the current situation—while the base doesn’t have the resources to stop you—and leave with him.”
“But you’ll also have to be ready for what it’ll mean if you fall into someone else’s hands.”
“And besides, Xia Qiao is an ordinary person,” Lu Weiyi added. “That makes him even more vulnerable—and the danger he’ll face only increases.”
Lu Weiyi didn’t think of himself as a merciful person, but he did have principles. People like him might be indecisive and hesitate to make hard choices, suffering more loss because they can’t let go when it counts—but every step he took, he took with a clear conscience.
In the apocalypse, everyone surviving each day was a process of their conscience falling apart. The environment would repeatedly shift people’s perceptions, stripping away their civility until they became monsters in human form.
Lu Weiyi believed he hadn’t reached that point. He knew clearly what truly mattered in his heart. So the things he chose to give up—no matter how valuable they were to the world—meant nothing to him. And that was enough.
Cheng Chuan didn’t say anything else. The two of them walked up a floor, and a baby’s piercing cries suddenly filled the air.
Sounded like Qin Nian.
“I’ll go check.” Lu Weiyi paused and turned around.
After the temperature dropped, Qin Nian was too small to handle it, so Yin Jin brought him back into the lab.
The usually quiet, bubble-blowing little boy was now bawling uncontrollably. Big tears rolled down his cheeks. Yin Jin, flustered, held and rocked him constantly, but nothing seemed to help. Li Wenliang rushed in and asked what happened.
“I don’t know. He’s been spitting up milk since this morning and seems low-energy. I checked his temperature—it’s normal. But just now, he suddenly started crying like this.” Yin Jin tried to stay calm, speaking quickly as she explained to the doctor.
Li Wenliang took the baby and began examining him with a stethoscope. The little one was still screaming his lungs out.
As Lu Weiyi got close, the baby reached out toward him, waving his arms.
“Commander,” Li Wenliang greeted Lu Weiyi.
Lu Weiyi nodded and stepped up to pick up Qin Nian. The baby clung tightly to his neck, sobbing.
Lu Weiyi swept the child with his mental powers, frowned, and then removed the metal ring around his neck. The moment it came off, chaotic spiritual energy burst from the child, like invisible threads whipping through the room—making it look like a storm had hit.
“He has a slight fever,” Li Wenliang said, looking at the digital thermometer. “We can try physical cooling for now.”
“Okay, go prepare for that—and bring some alcohol just in case.” There weren’t enough diagnostics to determine the specific cause of the fever, but the child’s physique as an ability user meant recovery would likely be quick.
