Chapter 440 – Provocation
The abnormal breeding rate had thrown everything into chaos.
“Because of these mutated animals, the base hospital has been full every day. Several teams have now decided not to go out anymore.”
“Then… how do they survive?” asked Xu Yi from a corner.
“We have the geographical advantage here. There’s no shortage of food or water. Plus, we’ve got a lot of undeveloped land. Some people have already started asking if they can lease plots to start farming.”
“So they’re giving up on upgrading their abilities?”
“Of course. If they’re choosing to stay nestled inside the base, that means they’ve given up on advancing.”
“Even the major squads think that way?” Lu Weiyi frowned. Animals usually have territorial instincts—if you don’t intrude, they typically won’t attack. But they still had zombies to deal with. If people stopped upgrading, how would they handle future zombie assaults?
“They’re not saying that outright. But all the zombies around us have already been cleared out. After the wall on the side near Pingjin Base collapsed, quite a few came through—but that area’s far away, and with mutant animals roaming, staying overnight there is extremely dangerous. More often than not, they go out, barely kill any zombies, and end up getting attacked by beasts.”
“Some teams have been asking if our base can offer support.”
“Tch.” Before Zhuang could continue, Antonio let out a sharp snort. “They’ve been protected so well they expect to be spoon-fed.”
“Do the mutated animals have crystal cores?” Lu Weiyi asked.
“They do, but compared to what we’ve seen before, they’re way weaker. Most of their energy doesn’t even match a C-level zombie.”
“…” Lu Weiyi had nothing to say.
It sounded like humanity was in a rough spot—not only did they have to deal with ever-evolving zombies, but now the mutated animals were also getting hostile.
Just then, Ning Yuan slowly walked out. The others stopped talking and went over to him. The doctor had already taken X-rays, which clearly showed his newly regenerated kidney.
“Any functional problems?” Zhuang Mingxu asked with concern.
“…” Ning Yuan stayed quiet.
No one else reacted outwardly, but everyone was silently listening.
“I meant the kidney’s original functions,” Zhuang clarified. After all, this organ was rebuilt using ability powers—who knew if it could fully function?
“I don’t feel anything unusual, and the check-up looked good,” Ning Yuan replied.
“Great. Now it’s time for Xu Yi and Dean to step it up,” Zhuang said.
After receiving the results for Xu Sa and Liu Rui as well, the group happily headed to Central Island.
Li Zhuang, who had duties related to both water and earth elements, stayed behind.
Lu Weiyi accompanied Zhuang Mingxu to observe the ongoing operations.
The soil and rock had been pre-transported to the shoreline, where earth-type ability users reinforced it with their powers. Water-type users controlled the seawater, parting it to create a passageway straight to the seabed.
The earth-types moved the materials down, fused them with the surrounding layers, and made the new land an integrated part of the island.
“The procedure looks complicated, but based on ability levels and test results, this method yields the best quality,” Zhuang Mingxu explained as they walked across the condensed sea surface. He pointed at his feet. “This area is already complete. We’re advancing bit by bit, working around the clock. At this pace, we should be done in two months—if we have enough materials.”
“We’ll need enough soil and rock for that,” Wu Yue, dripping with sweat, wiped his arm and came over. “You’re okay now?”
Lu Weiyi nodded and glanced past him to the front, where the shirtless, bald Bear Jie—already over 50—was shouting and rallying a team of men with energetic chants.
“Feels like something out of those old TV shows about production brigades.”
“Haha!” Wu Yue laughed. “Ain’t it about the same? Everyone now calls their daily work ‘work points’—they trade them for supplies.”
Some nearby workers overheard and came over to greet Zhuang and Lu, even trying to offer cigarettes, which both refused. One of them cautiously asked, “Base Leader, are we really going to keep cultivating the land like this? Will it ever be leased out privately?”
Knowing many were wondering the same thing, Zhuang replied in a steady tone, “Of course we will. But right now, survival is still our top priority. You’ve all seen that mutant octopus we captured. Our immediate goal is to unify our strength, fortify the base, and protect our home. Only then can we talk about lifestyle improvements.”
“With all these beasts out there now, does our base have a response plan? Didn’t the Capital Base recently announce some kind of research into a solution? Base Leader, any updates for us so we can prepare?”
“No. If they come up with a solution, our base will be the first to make contact.”
After a few polite exchanges, Zhuang Mingxu led Lu Weiyi away.
*
The next day, Lu Weiyi was sent out as the “mountain-moving tool.”
The idea that “those with ability should do more” was being applied to the entire team. Wherever the base needed manpower, that’s where they were sent—lifting, transporting, handling any task.
At first, people tried to rest every few days. Now they were so busy their feet barely touched the ground. Even Xi Shi back at the base was now doing full patrols around the Central Island villa every day.
Amid all this chaos, Zhuang Mobai successfully developed a method to reduce zombie energy inside the body.
It wasn’t a drug, but a wearable device. Shaped like a headband, it wrapped around the forehead with a coin-sized instrument positioned directly over the crystal core at the brow.
When activated, tiny needles made from a special material would pierce the skin. This material attracted zombie energy inside the body, drawing it out to be expelled.
“I’ve tested it on several experimental subjects and successfully reduced the zombie energy in their bodies by about 0.5% to 1.2%,” Zhuang Mobai explained confidently as he described his results. Zhuang Mingxu and Lu Weiyi did some quick mental calculations on the final impact.
Even though the percentage was low, it was at least effective—meaning it was a start. Zhuang Mingxu clapped. “Dr. Zhuang, that’s impressive. To make progress on two different studies in such a short time—your speed is almost catching up to Academician Zhao from the Weapons Research Institute.”
Although it sounded like praise, something about it rubbed Lu Weiyi the wrong way.
“Zhao Changming? What did he come up with?” Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t just Lu who felt that way—Zhuang Mobai immediately asked.
“Crystal core weapons. He’s already developed crystal core-powered rifles, rocket launchers, tank cannons, and so on. Lately, he’s been researching energy conversion from crystal cores, and initial progress is promising,” Zhuang Mingxu said, clearly excited about the topic and oblivious to the way Zhuang Mobai’s face was darkening. He continued on his own:
“Just yesterday he invited me to see his new converter. It can directly convert crystal core energy into electricity. Plug in a cable and you can charge a phone or tablet. Right now the utilization rate is still low, but he promised the whole base will be using new energy before winter arrives.”
He finished with a shake of the head and a sigh. “You senior experts really are admirable.”
Then, as if just realizing something, he added, “Listen to me, coming to see your breakthrough and ending up talking about someone else’s work.”
He picked up the device and looked it over, commenting, “Not bad. But I won’t roll this out with just that reduction rate. See if you can improve it a little.”
Zhuang Mobai was so angry he couldn’t even speak, but Zhuang Mingxu seemed completely unaware and even hesitantly asked, “Grand-uncle, what’s wrong? Is it giving you trouble?”
“No worries. Don’t pressure yourself. If this is already the limit, that’s fine—it’s still impressive, considering it’s only been a year or so.”
“Put it down,” Zhuang Mobai said, stopping his hand.
He had happily invited others to witness his success, only to find out how far behind he’d fallen.
It made him realize this sealed-off lab had turned him into a frog in a well—self-satisfied with his tiny steps of progress.
“I’ll find a way to improve the efficiency soon,” Zhuang Mobai said coldly, then waved them out.
As Zhuang Mingxu reluctantly left the lab, he still managed to slip in a final jab: “Alright then. But don’t worry—even if it doesn’t work, I won’t tell anyone. It doesn’t count if it’s just between us.”
Once they were out of the fifth-level lab, Zhuang Mingxu’s smile immediately returned in full force.
“You did that on purpose?” Lu Weiyi asked.
“Of course. Zhuang Mobai’s been holed up here for so long, he really was getting complacent. We don’t have any juicy bait to dangle in front of him, so this is how we push him,” Zhuang Mingxu explained as they walked back.
After goading him, and seeing Zhuang Mobai throw himself back into intense work, Zhuang Mingxu was inspired. Soon, the base started producing mock-newspapers—like newsletters from various labs. Their formatting looked professional, and most of the articles were just glorified praise for whichever professor had made new progress for the base—Zhuang Mobai included.
Unfortunately, while other researchers had their names in huge, bold headlines in the center, Zhuang Mobai’s name was barely noticeable in a corner.
Zhuang Mobai, re-exposed to outside affairs for the first time in a while, had been curious at first—until he saw the paper. That same night, he angrily pulled an all-nighter.
“It’s just a pity not everyone’s so easy to manipulate,” Zhuang Mingxu muttered as he tucked the remaining newsletters back onto a shelf. He glanced at someone sleeping on the couch and lowered his voice to ask Yin Jin, who had recently been reassigned as his assistant, “What’s the latest on Shen Xiu Yue?”
Ever since Shen Xiuyin requested a psychologist for him, over half a year had passed. Though the base was short on personnel, they’d managed to assign someone. Shen Xiuyin was extremely committed—since joining the lab, he’d caused zero issues.
They had previously worried about compliance and even thought about asking Antonio to go stir things up once in a while. But aside from one radical, hard-headed female assistant who stayed close to Zhuang Mobai, no one else needed any provocation.
“He can communicate normally now. But if he sees certain things, he still has occasional outbursts,” Yin Jin reported. Then, seeing that Zhuang Mingxu didn’t respond, he added, “The joint research institute has once again requested full cooperation from Cheng Chuan for their experiments.”
