65: Chapter 65 The Priceless Corpse

The rain fell even harder.

The black Chevrolet Suburban smashed through several cars blocking its path, like a well-fed shark swishing its tail as it vanished into the depths of the rain curtain.

The central courtyard lawn of Georgetown University was in shambles.

Dr. Hoffman's corpse was still burning.

Although those Clean-up Workers had thrown Molotov cocktails, this damn downpour had saved the corpse.

The flames were beaten down by the rain, leaving only wisps of black smoke and the kind of burnt stench that made one's stomach churn.

"They're gone."

Old George lowered his binoculars, the safety on the M1911 in his hand still off.

"The National Guard vanguard should arrive in about three minutes. Judging by the sirens, they're coming from M Street."

"Three minutes, that's enough."

Chen Mo pushed the car door open, his leather shoes stepping into the waterlogged lawn, splashing mud up his pant legs.

Jessica followed.

She was wearing a gas mask, her breathing heavy like a bellows.

Even through the filter canister, the stench—a mixture of gasoline, scorched fabric, and some kind of barbecue smell—kept drilling into her nose.

She glanced at the smoking mass on the ground, her stomach spasming, and she bent over to dry heave.

"Come help once you're done retching."

Chen Mo didn't even turn his head, walking straight to the corpse.

Hoffman was no longer recognizable as a human being.

That expensive cashmere coat had melted and stuck to his skin, and the only thing left of his signature thick-rimmed glasses was a twisted metal frame, deeply embedded in his cheekbones.

The Clean-up Workers were very professional; the Molotov cocktails were aimed at the head, intended to destroy the teeth and facial features so that the corpse's identity couldn't be immediately identified.

But this was exactly what Chen Mo wanted.

If this had been an intact corpse, it would have long been taken to the morgue and strictly guarded as a "victim of a biochemical attack."

Only this kind of unrecognizable, rotten meat would be treated as a John Doe, temporarily tossed into a body bag and left unattended.

"This is the gold mine you wanted?"

Jessica wiped the mist off her mask, forcing herself to stare directly at the corpse. "His brain is cooked; what could you possibly get out of him?"

"Due to thermal expansion and contraction, brain tissue is indeed damaged, but in this world, some things are more heat-resistant than brain matter."

Chen Mo squatted down.

Rainwater dripped from the brim of his hat onto Hoffman's charred arm.

In the eyes of an ordinary person, this was just a pile of worthless carbides.

But in Chen Mo's eyes, this corpse was emitting a dazzling blue light—the radiance of a "Legacy" that only a System holder could see.

Even if the physical body is destroyed, as long as the obsession remains, and as long as not too much time has passed since death, the concept still exists.

Hoffman had wanted to run away with that case until the very moment he died.

It contained the riches and glory for the rest of his life; it was his greatest reliance in this lifetime.

This kind of greed and desire to survive was the best preservative.

Chen Mo reached out and pressed his hand onto the segment of Hoffman's collarbone that had been burned down to the bone.

"System, extract."

Hum—

A cold electric current shot into his brain through his fingertips.

The sounds of rain and sirens around him instantly faded away.

Chen Mo's pupils constricted sharply as a massive stream of data flooded his nerves like a torrent.

These were the experimental records of countless days and nights.

The eerie dance of viral mutations under a microscope.

The scenes of countless test subjects, like the homeless man from earlier, screaming and dissolving in glass rooms.

And a string of complex chemical molecular formulas, branded into his mind.

[Ding! Extraction successful.]

[Skill obtained: Virology Expert (Blue Rare)]

[Description: You have mastered the world's top virology knowledge, proficient in the cultivation, modification, and eradication of various pathogens. You know better than anyone: God took seven days to create man, but a virus only needs seven seconds to destroy humanity.]

[Memory fragment obtained: Unit-734 Core Data Packet]

[Contents include: Original strain sequence of the modified hemorrhagic fever virus, clinical data of Variant No. 14, and... the only antidote formula.]

Chen Mo let go and slowly stood up.

He shook his head to shake off the dizziness caused by the information overload.

For that split second, he had felt as if he had become Hoffman, that mad scientist. That disregard for life and fanaticism for data had lingered in his body for an instant before being forcibly suppressed by his cold, rational mind.

"How was it?"

George shouted from behind, "The first armored vehicle has already turned the corner!"

Chen Mo glanced at the corpse on the ground.

The "aura" that had originally lingered over the corpse had dissipated; now, it was truly just a pile of rotten meat.

"Sometimes I think you're even scarier than those perverts." Jessica stared at Chen Mo's hand. "What were you doing just now? Praying?"

"I was inspecting the goods."

Chen Mo took a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped the fingers that had just touched the corpse.

"How much is this thing worth?"

"If sold to The Pentagon, it's worth about double that amount in budget."

Chen Mo turned and walked toward the Ford Taurus. "But if sold to Wall Street right now... it's worth all of America."

"Get in."

The wheels rolled over broken glass shards, making a harsh crunching sound.

George drove fast, ducking into a freight alley that only local thugs knew about before the National Guard's blockade closed in.