351: Chapter 351 Strange Phenomena

The next afternoon, GUPA Headquarters Medical Department, private recovery room.

The curtains weren't fully drawn, and a slender beam of sunlight sliced through the gap, landing right on the bulging quilt at the foot of the bed. Wei Ziqing leaned halfway against the headboard, his left arm freshly redressed with bandages that were snow-white and neatly edged. The scent of disinfectant mixed with some kind of plant extract filled the entire room.

He had originally been resting with his eyes closed.

But a subtle, suspicious rustling sound made him open his eyes.

Looking toward the sound, Shen Mingyuan was sitting on the companion chair by the window. The chair faced the corner, and he was curled up in an extremely unnatural posture, shoulders slightly hunched, head lowered, one hand shielding his front while the other was delivering something to his mouth at a very high frequency.

Wei Ziqing narrowed his eyes.

It looked like a small paper box. Pale pink, palm-sized, with the logo of a trendy dessert shop printed on the edge. He remembered that shop; it was two streets away from the base, specializing in a type of cheesecake called "Marble." It was limited daily, went on sale at three in the afternoon, and was sold out by four.

It was now 3:40 PM.

Shen Mingyuan's fingers were scraping the last small piece of cream cheese from the edge of the box and putting it into his mouth, then—

He quickly crumpled the empty box into a ball and, in an extremely stealthy and swift motion that was unfortunately fully witnessed by Wei Ziqing, tossed it into the trash can by his feet.

Then he patted his hands, sat up straight as if nothing had happened, and even straightened his collar.

Wei Ziqing: "Brother Shen, what are you eating?"

Shen Mingyuan turned his head, his expression calm and his gaze profound, as if nothing had happened in the last three minutes. He was silent for two seconds, and when he spoke, his tone carried a moderate, slightly philosophical melancholy.

"I didn't eat anything," he said. "I'm just contemplating why the world is always so hostile to me."

Wei Ziqing was stunned: "...Huh?"

"Probably because," Shen Mingyuan sighed softly, "I touched someone's cake."

Wei Ziqing became even more confused. He propped himself up, trying to read more from Shen Mingyuan's unruffled face, but the other man's expression management was perfect—except for a tiny, pale yellow cake crumb remaining at the corner of his mouth.

Just as Wei Ziqing was about to speak, the door was pushed open forcefully from the outside.

Little Pink stood at the door.

Today, she was wearing the creamy yellow hoodie that a Researcher sister had bought for her, with two short plush rabbit ears adorning the edge of the hood, but her expression was completely at odds with the outfit. Those round, pitch-black pupils belonging to an Axolotl Evolver swept across the room and finally, like a radar locking onto a target, fixed on Shen Mingyuan.

"Dammit—" Her voice had the crispness unique to a young child, but every word was powerful. "Who on earth stole the cake I just got?"

She took a step forward.

"Who," she took another step, her rabbit-eared hood swaying along, "stole my cake?"

The records room of the GUPA Biological Anomaly Research Department was on the seventh floor of the East Wing of the headquarters. Its floor-to-ceiling windows faced north, providing soft lighting, and it was constantly maintained at twenty-three degrees Celsius with extremely low humidity. Lu Jianchuan had been here for nearly two hours.

Three translucent light screens floated before him, respectively displaying autopsy reports of seven High-risk evolved individuals recorded in the last three months, a simulation model for the activation threshold of evo particles in a near-death state, and a grainy twelve-year-old sighting footage of an overseas Evolver. He didn't actually have a clear goal—he just felt he should learn more about the thing on his arm and the things he would continue to face in the future.

Just as he paused the video and intended to get up for a refill of coffee, he noticed someone else sitting in the corner.

It was an elderly Researcher. His hair was gray and neatly combed, and the white lab coat he wore was washed until it looked a bit old. On his collar was pinned an insignia that Lu Jianchuan couldn't recognize the specific Rank of, but it clearly didn't belong to an ordinary staff member. He wasn't using any light screens or the holographic keyboard on the desk; he just sat there, wearing a pair of old-fashioned metal-framed glasses, quietly flipping through a paper book.

Lu Jianchuan stood there for two seconds before walking over.

"Hello."

The old Researcher looked up from the pages, glanced at him through his lenses, and nodded.

"Hello."

Then he paused, his gaze lingering on Lu Jianchuan's face. There was no scrutiny, nor the deliberately restrained curiosity common when recognizing a celebrity, just a calm confirmation.

"You are silver skeleton. Lu Jianchuan."

Lu Jianchuan was a bit surprised. He had come in and out of this building many times, and most Researchers only saw him as "that armor Aptitude Holder" or a "Combatant of the special operations group." Few people could call him by name directly. He nodded: "You actually know me."

"Of course I know." The old Researcher tucked the bookmark between the pages, closed the book, and spoke in a tone as flat as if he were talking about the weather being nice today. "I've used the data on Golden Bone matrix conversion efficiency from your previous combat reports."

Lu Jianchuan was dazed for a moment, not knowing how to respond for a while. He glanced at the paper book by the man's hand; the cover was severely worn and printed with several Latin scientific names he didn't fully recognize, appearing to be some kind of paleontology record.

"Are you... doing research here?"

"What else would I be doing?" The old Researcher smiled slightly, a shallow smile that was more like self-deprecation regarding the question. "Looking, thinking. My eyes can't keep up anymore; they water after looking at light screens for too long, so flipping through paper is more comfortable."

He didn't mean to complain, just to state a fact. Then he paused for two seconds and suddenly spoke again, as if a thought had been turning in his mind and, since there was someone nearby, he just said it out loud.

"But there are indeed some things I can't figure out. About this business of evolution."

Lu Jianchuan didn't leave, nor did he rush him. He sat down in the chair next to him.

The old Researcher glanced at him, seemingly confirming that this young man was willing to listen, so he placed the book on his lap, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the corners of the cover.

"Don't you find it strange?" he said.

"Current Evolvers—you, and those you've fought—what do they all manifest? Extreme speed, extreme strength, extreme camouflage, extreme toxicity. A single ability is maxed out, while all other aspects are ignored. It's like a blade sharpened too thin; the edge is a good edge, but it snaps at a touch."

Lu Jianchuan didn't interrupt, waiting for him to continue.

"Of course, this is useful. In a life-and-death struggle, being fast and ruthless enough means winning." The old Researcher paused. "But the problem is, this doesn't follow the laws of nature."

He raised his hand, not pointing at any light screen, but just tracing a vague arc in the air.

"Look back at the ancient past, the Cambrian. The oceans back then were full of experimental subjects—Trilobites, Anomalocaris, those strange things whose names don't even roll off the tongue. They were also extremes. Anomalocaris was the extreme predator; its eyes, mouthparts, and swimming speed each crushed contemporary organisms. And then?"

He stopped for a moment, not actually waiting for Lu Jianchuan to answer.

"Then they were gone. Nautiluses survived, though, but those huge, long, straight-shelled Ammonites were eventually gone too. Things that are a single extreme can't keep up once the environment changes. The water grew cold, oxygen decreased, the opponents changed the rules of the game, and all its skills became a burden."

He turned his head to look at Lu Jianchuan. The gaze behind the lenses wasn't sharp, but rather carried a bit of confusion, as if asking a riddle he couldn't solve himself.

"But what survived? Those that weren't top-tier in anything but had a bit of everything. Omnivorous, broadly adaptable, able to run, climb, and burrow. A bit of everything, but not great at anything. In the end, it was these things that took over the Earth, including us."

He paused.

"So I can't figure it out. This evo factor—why is the direction it gives the opposite?"

"Triggered by near-death, prioritizing survival—of course, it goes for whatever is fastest. I can understand that. But what about the factor itself? It's been etched in the genes for billions of years, having experienced how many mass extinctions and environmental reshufflings; it should know that a single extreme won't go far in the end."

He reopened the book and then closed it again.

"Why is it still leading people down this dead end?"

The records room was very quiet. The sunlight outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was a bit further west than before, stretching a long, slanted band of light across the floor. Lu Jianchuan looked at the old Researcher's eyes, which were slightly red from long periods of reading, and didn't speak.

The old Researcher didn't wait for him to speak either.

He sighed softly and put the book back by his side.

"Sorry, I'm old and talk too much. Go on with whatever you want to look up; I won't bother you."

Lu Jianchuan said, "No, don't say that."

The old Researcher had already lowered his head again, his fingers resting on the book cover, prepared to end this unexpected chat. Lu Jianchuan looked at his eyes, which were slightly clouded from years of desk work, and for some reason, didn't leave.

"What you've said... has indeed piqued my curiosity."

The old Researcher's fingers paused.

"I'm also curious why current evolution is like this," Lu Jianchuan said, his voice not loud but serious. "Now that you've mentioned it, I'm curious too. If it's convenient, could you tell me about your understanding so far?"

The old Researcher looked up.

He looked at Lu Jianchuan for a few seconds, the gaze behind his glasses somewhat surprised, like a person accustomed to talking to himself suddenly discovering that the listener was still there. Within that faint weariness that naturally comes with age, something else slowly emerged.

"You're willing to listen?" he asked. "This isn't some results report. I haven't proven anything yet."

"It's fine," Lu Jianchuan said. "I just want to know."

The old Researcher was silent for a moment before placing the book he had just closed back on his lap.

"...Alright."

He leaned back, his spine sinking into the curve of the old swivel chair, as if organizing his thoughts. The sunlight moved another inch to the west, falling on the cuff of his white lab coat, on that fold washed until it was pale.

"I studied paleontology for forty years and only switched to the evo factor field in the last twenty. At first, I also thought evolution was just random mutation plus natural selection—Darwin's theory was fine. But later I found it wasn't like that."

He paused.

"The factor isn't passive. It has a direction."

"Look at those individuals who didn't encounter life-threatening danger but evolved on their own because of some Opportunity—concentration reaching the standard and will being strong enough. The Rabbit King, you should know. And Little Pink, who just joined, the Axolotl one. What is the first priority of their evolution?"

He asked and answered himself.

"It's wisdom. It's cognitive ability, linguistic ability, and reflection on one's own situation. It's not faster speed or thicker skin, but 'I want to understand this.'"

The old Researcher shook his head slightly.

"This is very interesting. The factor seems to know that we humans have proven this path successful. Upright walking, using tools, and modifying the environment—this template was a success. So when an individual doesn't have near-death pressure, the factor will prioritize leading them down this path. It doesn't want to create another Anomalocaris. It wants to create another species that can survive."

Lu Jianchuan didn't interrupt him.

"But the problem is," the old Researcher's speaking pace slowed down a bit, "even with this Will-based evolution, what eventually manifests is still a single extreme. For Little Pink it's wisdom, and for the Rabbit King it's also wisdom, but it's a kind of... wisdom where it's taken to the extreme and other aspects can be sacrificed. The Rabbit King doesn't have the combat power a Rabbit King should have, and Little Pink couldn't survive without human care. It's still walking a single-plank bridge."

He paused for a long time.

"Even more troublesome is heredity."

"An Evolver, as long as he isn't a monster ripened in a laboratory, can normally reproduce offspring. The children he bears naturally inherit his turtle shell, his mantis arms, or his eyes that can see in the night. This isn't a disease; it's a normality etched into the genes. But have you thought about it—it's fine for one or two generations, but what about ten or twenty? When an entire Bloodline is carrying that turtle shell and the environment suddenly turns cold or dry, the forest becomes a desert, and the turtle shell no longer protects them but instead makes them clumsy and slow—by then, how much room for adjustment will be left in that Bloodline?"

Lu Jianchuan didn't answer. He knew this wasn't a question that needed answering.

"So I've been thinking," the old Researcher said, his voice very low, as if talking to himself, "is the factor sick?"

"Or was it interfered with by something even earlier?"

He looked up at Lu Jianchuan, a strange calmness in his gaze.

"Ancient viruses. Some kind of extraterrestrial matter. Or even earlier, lost civilizations—they encountered the same problems we did, and then they did something, leaving behind traces and this tampered evolutionary directive."

He smiled briefly, a smile tinged with self-deprecation.

"Sounds like science fiction, doesn't it? An old man in a records room having wild fantasies."

"I've already submitted an application to the higher-ups, planning to re-screen for residual traces of evo particles in fossils from the Cambrian to the Quaternary. No one is doing this project, and the funding applications I wrote for two rounds were rejected, saying the priority wasn't high enough." He paused. "But I'm not in a hurry. I've waited twenty years; I can wait a few more."

He placed his hand on the book cover, his fingertips gently rubbing the worn spine.

"I just want to solve this problem. Why the factor clearly knows specialization doesn't go far, yet still forces everyone down this path. Or perhaps—"

He stopped.

"Or perhaps, the extreme of diversification is actually a type of extreme too?"

He seemed to suddenly realize he had talked too much again and sighed softly.

"I'm old and talk too much." He reopened the book but didn't look at it again. "Go ahead and get back to your business; don't let me waste your time.""}],