522: Chapter 522 The Passage of Time

Time marched forward at its own unhurried pace.

The Aetherland Star continued to shine upon its system as it always had, and the Star Bridge Routes operated steadily.

The Yaoqing Fleet remained in the sea of stars, tracking the traces of the The Swarm. The good news was that they were indeed finding signs; the bad news was that they couldn't catch them.

Occasional messages were sent back, reporting a jump to some star system or a scan of some sector, only to end up empty-handed again.

The The Swarm was like a ghost, always vanishing before the fleet arrived, leaving behind empty Star Domains.

On the side of the Void, days were also moving forward.

In the context of civilized interstellar society, the Shankong Civilization was like a new pebble thrown into a pond. The initial ripples gradually spread, but the undercurrents beneath the surface never ceased.

Thanks to the implementation of the Company's standard contracts and access to the Silver Rail network, the Shankong Civilization's local specialties began appearing on the broader interstellar market.

Artworks, biological enzyme extracts with peculiar effects, and traditional herbal formulas—whose principles even the Shankong people didn't fully understand but which were indeed effective—gradually found a market among curiosity seekers and buyers with specific needs.

There were even a few skincare products said to delay skin aging.

The prices weren't expensive and the quality was decent, so they slowly became familiar faces on the interstellar market.

Occasionally, people would post on forums saying they had used a certain product from them and the results were quite good.

Some complained that the packaging was too crude and the instruction manuals looked like religious pamphlets. But overall, Shankong specialties had established a foothold.

credit points, a term the Shankong people had no concept of a few years ago, began to become the most important and emotionally complex symbol in their trade with the outside world.

Markets were undergoing Fusion, and overt exchanges were increasing. But in places where the sunlight could not reach, something was always stirring restlessly.

Longevity.

This word was like the sweetest poison, corroding the Shankong upper echelons and driving actions in the shadows.

The average lifespan of the Donglian people was two hundred and fifty years; the Company's core employees lived even longer, and the appearances of their top leadership remained unchanged even after a century.

This information had been confirmed repeatedly and was no longer a secret, but rather a thorn stuck in the hearts of the Shankong elites.

The secret of the Enhancement Serum was something the Shankong people had wanted to figure out since day one.

In their eyes, something that could allow a person to live over two hundred years was more precious than any technology.

For their elite class, living to a hundred and twenty was already the limit.

Watching those Donglian people easily live past two hundred years, and the Company people live even longer, felt like a fire burning in their hearts.

The problem was, they couldn't get it.

The control over the Enhancement Serum had become ridiculously strict after the 'theft incident' in Star Calendar Year 16.

One dose per person, registration before use, and recovery of packaging after use—zero inventory.

There was no way to get an extra dose through official channels.

Items occasionally appeared on the black market, but most were defective. The effects were unstable, the side effects were unclear, and the prices were outrageously high.

The Shankong people used connections, spent money, and bypassed seven or eight middlemen to finally obtain a small amount from those duchies and kingdoms on Planet Blue.

Those nobles had good relations with the Shankong people and had saved up some stock, which they were willing to sell at a high price.

A few samples of Enhancement Serum with blurred markings and unknown origins, supposedly from special channels.

They got the goods, but the problem was even bigger.

The quantity was too small—so small that it wasn't even enough to conduct a statistically significant injection experiment, let alone reverse engineering.

What could a few milliliters of serum do? How many people could it be injected into?

Since that path was blocked, they changed tactics.

Someone proposed another idea: 'If we can't get the serum, we can get human samples.'

Could they directly kidnap citizens of the Eastern Federation or the Company? The risk was too high; once exposed, it would be a disaster of unilateral crushing.

Even if they did get a person, they wouldn't be able to pass through the ship inspections of the Eastern Federation and the Company.

But what about obtaining some 'biological samples' in secret?

Blood, tissue, epidermal cells, even a few strands of hair. If operated properly, there might be a chance.

On the Eastern Federation's side, there were many international students, lots of exchanges, and frequent personnel movement. Finding an opportunity to get some samples would always be easier than buying serum.

Thus, over the following year, a series of strange things began to happen.

In a certain border starport city of the Eastern Federation, a private hospital providing high-end medical services for foreigners experienced seven incidents of abnormal loss of medical waste within three months.

What went missing were blood samples and small tissue biopsy fragments that should have been destroyed, originating from several Donglian citizens and one Company contractor employee who had undergone physical exams or treatment at the hospital.

The job wasn't perfectly seamless.

An internal employee at the hospital noticed the anomaly and reported it. The Eastern Federation's security department intervened in the investigation and, following the clues, caught a small fry who was using a janitor's identity as cover and was employed by a certain 'international medical research intermediary.'

Investigating further up, the clues passed through several hands and eventually pointed vaguely to several shell companies with complex backgrounds registered in certain duchies on Planet Blue.

The deeper source of funding and instructions vanished into the mist of interstellar finance.

After using AI for direct brute-force decryption, the clues pointed to a certain duchy.

It was quite a coincidence.

Originally, those Western descendants on Planet Blue had never given up on stealing the Eastern Federation's source of longevity, and as a result, they became the scapegoats for the Shankong people.

As for what was happening in the universities, that was even more bizarre.

Under the same night sky, the lights were still on in the anatomy lab of the Donglian Medical School.

Several students were gathered around an anatomy table, looking down and recording something.

A Cadaver Teacher on the table had already been two-thirds dissected, with muscles, blood vessels, and nerves all exposed.

The air was filled with the smell of formalin, thick enough to be choking.

Zhao Mingyuan was one of them. A sophomore clinical major at the medical school, his grades were above average and his family background was ordinary.

At this moment, he was looking down and recording; his hands were steady, and his face showed no expression.

In the corner stood a young man dressed in plain clothes, not looking like a student. He watched Zhao Mingyuan for a long time.

The bell rang for the end of class, and students began to leave. Zhao Mingyuan was the last to pack his things, and as he reached the door, he was stopped by that young man.

"Senior Zhao, wait a moment."

Zhao Mingyuan turned back and recognized the other person. An international student from Shankong named Kavi, one year below him. He didn't usually talk much but would nod when they met.

"Is something the matter?"

Kavi took a few steps closer and lowered his voice: "How have you considered the matter I mentioned last time?"

Zhao Mingyuan was silent for a few seconds.

The matter Kavi mentioned had been proposed two weeks ago.

At that time, Kavi had invited him for drinks, and as they chatted, he said: "In our Shankong, we lack many teaching resources."

Then he made a request: could he help get some 'samples'?

Zhao Mingyuan didn't react at the time: "What samples?"

Kavi said: "Like Cadaver Teachers, and some organ specimens. You have plenty of resources here; missing one or two shouldn't be noticed, right?"

Zhao Mingyuan froze and only said after a while: "That's illegal."

Kavi smiled and said: "It's not like I'm asking you to steal; just help take them. Besides, don't you Donglian people value humanitarianism the most? Aren't there plenty of them in those small countries abroad?"

"They're all unclaimed anyway, so what does it matter where they're used?"

Zhao Mingyuan didn't respond.

That night, he suffered from insomnia.

He knew this couldn't be done, but the conditions Kavi offered were too tempting.

After graduation, a job would be arranged in Shankong with an annual salary three times that of the Eastern Federation, with housing and medical care all included.

And Kavi guaranteed that no one would find out.

He knew his own capabilities; in his own country, it was impossible for him to have this kind of income.

Two weeks had passed, and he hadn't agreed, nor had he refused.

Kavi asked again this time, and he remained silent.

Kavi patted his shoulder: "No rush, take your time thinking. But Senior, opportunities don't wait for people."

After saying that, he left.

Zhao Mingyuan stood in place, staring at the ground, unsure of what he was thinking.