854: Chapter 849 The Printing Machine

He moved his camp bed into the laboratory, sleeping no more than three hours a day.

Except for bathroom breaks, his eyes never left the microscope and the computer screen.

His already gaunt body was now so thin he was unrecognizable, his eye sockets deeply sunken, making him look like a walking skeleton.

But those eyes of his were terrifyingly bright, burning with an eerie blue ghostly fire.

With the computational assistance of "asking heaven," a super-era Artificial Intelligence, hundreds of millions of molecular formulas cascaded across the screen like a waterfall.

If Shen Yan hadn't provided this system, it would have taken roughly three hundred years to analyze the "samp" original solution by human effort alone.

Late at night on the fifteenth day.

The first frost since the beginning of autumn fell over Jinghai City.

Shen Yan had just coaxed his daughter Youyou to sleep and was sitting in his study reading an investment report on the Artificial Intelligence medical track.

The secure phone on the desk suddenly vibrated.

There was no caller ID, only a red exclamation mark.

This was the highest-level contact signal from Institute 44.

Shen Yan closed the file, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

This was just a gamble, but now it seemed the dice had landed.

He put on a trench coat and headed out.

Liu Hui, who was washing a baby bottle for their son Shen An in the living room, was taken aback for a moment.

"Going out so late?"

She watched her husband's slightly hurried back, her eyes filled only with concern.

Ever since Shen Yan helped her teach that mean neighbor a lesson, her trust in this man had reached a level of blind devotion.

"There's an urgent matter at Guang Ke; I'm going to handle it."

Shen Yan changed his shoes at the entrance, his tone steady.

"I might be back late, don't wait up for me."

Liu Hui nodded, walked over to straighten his collar, and pressed a cup of warm water into his hand.

"Be careful on the road, don't overwork yourself."

Out the door, into the car.

Chen Guangke was already waiting downstairs, his expression solemn yet carrying a hint of irrepressible excitement.

"Brother Yan, they said the results are out."

"That bastard Lin Zhiyuan was howling like a stuck pig on the phone, saying he's made something big."

Shen Yan didn't speak, merely gesturing for him to drive.

The black maybach tore through the night, speeding toward the northern suburbs.

Half an hour later.

Before even entering the laboratory door, the roars from inside could be heard.

It didn't sound like venting; it was more like the release of an ecstasy that had been suppressed for too long.

He pushed open the laboratory door.

The ground was a mess, with printed paper and broken glassware scattered everywhere.

Lin Zhiyuan was kneeling on the ground, clutching a metal cage tightly.

The white coat he wore was so dirty its original color was indistinguishable, his hair was a bird's nest, and his face was covered in tears and snot.

Seeing Shen Yan enter, he scrambled over on all fours, holding up the cage.

"Boss! Look! Look at this!"

"It's done! It's really done!"

"My God... I've seen the fingerprints of God!"

Shen Yan looked down at the cage.

Inside was an elderly white mouse that had originally served as part of the control group.

According to the experimental records, this mouse, numbered A-7, was already equivalent to an eighty-year-old human.

In yesterday's video logs, it had been huddled in the corner on its last breath, hair falling out, spine curved.

But now.

The little thing in the cage was frantically gnawing at the wire mesh, its movements as agile as a young man in his prime.

Although its fur hadn't fully grown back, the exposed skin showed a healthy pink color, and the previous wrinkles had completely disappeared.

The most terrifying part was its eyes.

The originally cloudy lenses were now as black and shiny as two pieces of obsidian, radiating a fierce vitality.

"Cellular telomerase length has recovered by 3%!"

Lin Zhiyuan roared incoherently, slapping a data sheet against Shen Yan's chest with surprising force.

"Mitochondrial activity has increased fourfold! Four times!"

"This isn't treatment; this is a reversal! This is turning back time!"

"Although it can only be maintained for 72 hours, after which the cells will collapse due to over-division, this direction is correct!"

"Just give me a little more time, a little more of the original solution, and I can solve the collapse issue!"

Shen Yan looked at the mouse jumping up and down in the cage.

He reached out a finger and teased it through the wire mesh.

The mouse bit the wire in one go, its teeth making a grating, tooth-aching sound.

This kind of vitality was simply overbearing and unreasonable.

The S-rank intelligence produced by the system truly had no duds.

"Can this thing be mass-produced?"

Shen Yan asked the most crucial question.

Lin Zhiyuan was stunned for a moment, sobering up slightly from his frenzy. Although he was a scientist, he also knew the importance of money.

"It's impossible to perfectly replicate the original solution. That molecular structure is too complex; Earth's current technology can't do it."

"But..."

He swallowed hard, his eyes turning greedy.

"If it's a diluted derivative, I can try to extract a 'Phase I Agent'."

"The effect would only be about one-thousandth of the original solution. It won't grant eternal youth, but for repairing damaged organs or treating early-stage lesions..."

At this point, Lin Zhiyuan's voice was trembling.

"It would be a miracle drug."

Shen Yan took the cage from him, looking at the mouse that had been given a new life.

In a world where the wealthy are willing to throw away hundreds of millions of dollars just to live one more year, the implications of holding something like this were self-evident.

This was a currency even harder than photolithography machines or Artificial Intelligence.

This was life.

As long as one is human, they fear death.

If they fear death, they have to give him money.

"Give it a name."

Shen Yan said calmly.

Lin Zhiyuan wiped the snot from his face, thought for a long time, and squeezed out a word.

"Rebirth?"

Shen Yan shook his head.

Too cliché.

And too blunt; it would easily attract unnecessary trouble.

His gaze fell on the humming "asking heaven" mainframe in the corner of the lab.

A deep blue light flowed over the chassis, identical to the liquid in the test tubes.

"Let's call it 'Blue Blood'."

Shen Yan made the final decision.

"Publicly announce it as a new type of high-efficiency cellular nutrient solution, focusing on post-operative recovery and sub-health conditioning."

"What we're selling isn't medicine; it's a health supplement."

Lin Zhiyuan's mouth dropped open, as if he had heard an unbelievable joke.

"A health supplement? Boss, this is a discovery that could win a Nobel Prize! You're selling it as a health supplement?"

Shen Yan glanced at him.

That look was as calm as a bottomless lake, yet it made Lin Zhiyuan feel a shiver from the depths of his soul.

"Dr. Lin, you are still too naive."

"A drug that can cure cancer would shake a trillion-dollar medical industry chain. That is a path to death. Do you want us to be assassinated on the street tomorrow?"

"But if it's a health supplement that makes people energetic and delays aging..."

Shen Yan pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and Chen Guangke immediately leaned in to light it.

Amidst the rising smoke, Shen Yan's face was somewhat blurred, yet it exuded a domineering aura of total control.

"That is a money printing machine."