87: Chapter 87 The Embrace of the Ouroboros

Integration Progress: 24%.

Cellular Collapse Rate: 26%.

The collapse rate has overtaken it.

Chen Feng sat on a chair, his back ramrod straight, his eyes never leaving the two lines of frantically jumping numbers on the panel. Sarah lay on the hospital bed, the black veins across her body having already spread to her jawline. Something was surging beneath her skin, pulsing in waves like living creatures running through her blood vessels.

Her body suddenly arched up.

It wasn't a convulsion; her entire spine was bending backward, with only the back of her head and her heels supporting her on the bed. Her waist was suspended at an angle impossible for a normal human to achieve.

Then, she let out a cry.

It wasn't a shout or a sob, but a sound squeezed from deep within her throat—tearing, hoarse, and completely unlike anything a human female could produce.

The glass door of the emergency room vibrated.

"Sis! Sister!!" Amy's voice from outside smashed against the door, almost a scream.

"What's happening in there! Let me in!"

"Open the door, quickly! She needs emergency care!" The gray-haired emergency doctor was also pounding on the door outside. "You're committing murder!"

Inside, Sarah's body slammed back onto the bed. The impact sent the entire bed sliding twenty centimeters back, crashing into the wall.

Chen Feng's gaze returned to her abdomen—to the wound where the rebar had pierced through.

The muscle tissue at the edges of the wound was squirming. It wasn't bleeding; the muscle fibers were growing on their own, layer upon layer, as if someone had pressed a fast-forward button. The fragment of rebar snapped off inside the through-and-through wound was moving outward.

One millimeter, two millimeters.

The metal fragment was being squeezed out bit by bit by the newly formed tissue.

Chen Feng didn't even blink.

The system panel refreshed.

[Integration Progress: 29%]

[Cellular Collapse Rate: 31%]

Still not enough.

He stood up and fished a thumb-sized medicine vial from the inner pocket of his coat. There was no label on the bottle, only a handwritten code: S-07.

This was one of the three stabilizers he had grabbed on his way out. He hadn't intended to use it—the less external interference in the Ouroboros integration process, the better—but now the collapse rate was widening the gap.

If he didn't do something, Sarah's cells would collapse into a puddle before the virus could complete the rewrite.

He unscrewed the cap, pulled a sterile syringe from the nightstand, and drew the liquid.

"Hang in there, Sarah."

The needle pierced into the vein in Sarah's neck.

The moment the liquid was pushed in, the black veins all over Sarah's body flashed simultaneously, and the speed of their spread slowed down significantly.

The system panel flickered.

[Exogenous stabilizer intervention detected... Cellular collapse rate temporarily suppressed...]

[Cellular Collapse Rate: 28%]

[Integration Progress: 32%]

It had overtaken it again.

Chen Feng threw the syringe into the medical waste bin and sat back down.

But he knew S-07 was only a buffer; it wouldn't last long. Given Sarah's physical condition—half-dead from the explosion and having lost over forty percent of her blood—forcing an integration with an Alpha-class virus was like throwing a drowning person into a raging torrent. Whether she could swim to shore really depended on her own fate.

Time ticked by, second by second.

Chen Feng watched the panel.

[Integration Progress: 38%... 41%... 44%...]

[Cellular Collapse Rate: 29%... 30%... 33%...]

The integration rate was running, but the collapse rate was chasing it. The inhibitory effect of S-07 had already begun to decay.

44%.

45%.

Collapse Rate: 35%.

Chen Feng pulled out a second vial—S-11, a backup model. It was stronger than S-07, but the side effects were also greater, causing short-term damage to the nervous system.

He gripped the vial and thought for three seconds.

He didn't inject it.

Not because of the side effects—Sarah was already at death's door, so side effects didn't matter at all—but because a new prompt had appeared on the system panel.

[Abnormal response detected in host's autoimmune system... T-cell activity exceeds baseline by 370%...]

[Note: Host is autonomously resisting genetic collapse.]

Chen Feng put the vial down.

"Fine." He leaned back against the chair. "Do it yourself."

Sarah's body began to twitch violently again. This time was even more intense than before; her fingers directly crushed indentations into the stainless steel bed rail. Those black veins surged wildly under her skin, as if her entire circulatory system was being rewired.

The through-and-through wound in her abdomen had completely closed. The squeezed-out rebar fragment fell to the floor with a clatter, covered in black blood.

But new changes were occurring.

An extremely fine pattern appeared on the surface of the healed skin, almost invisible to the naked eye, like some kind of genetic code written into the deep layers of the skin. it existed for less than two seconds before vanishing, returning to a normal skin tone.

[Integration Progress: 52%... 56%... 61%...]

[Cellular Collapse Rate: 33%... 32%... 29%...]

The collapse rate started to drop.

It wasn't the effect of the medicine. It was Sarah's body adapting—or rather, taking over.

When Chen Feng saw this trend, the tension that had been wound tight in his heart for nearly twenty minutes loosened by about a third.

People were speaking loudly outside; it seemed more police had arrived. He heard phrases like "get the commissioner here" and someone shouting "Umbrella people have sealed off the emergency room."

Whatever, let them shout.

[Integration Progress: 67%... 71%...]

[Cellular Collapse Rate: 24%... 19%...]

The gap was now widening in the right direction. The collapse rate was plummeting, while the integration rate was soaring.

The black veins on Sarah's body began to recede. They weren't fading, but being absorbed—the viral factors that had spread to the skin's surface were retracting deep into her body, like a receding tide.

Her breathing changed.

Before, it was the moribund, faint rise and fall maintained by the ventilator.

Now, it had become deep, powerful, and steady autonomous breathing.

The ventilator tube was still in her mouth, but she no longer needed it.

Chen Feng reached out and pulled the ventilator tube.

Her chest rose and fell with increasing vigor.

[Integration Progress: 78%... 83%... 88%...]

[Cellular Collapse Rate: 11%... 7%... 3%...]

The corner of Chen Feng's mouth twitched slightly.

It worked.

[Integration Progress: 92%... 96%... 99%...]

The last percentage point ticked over exceptionally slowly, so slowly that Chen Feng felt the system was doing it on purpose.

Then—

[Integration Progress: 100%.]

[Ouroboros Virus (Prototype-Alpha) integration with host gene sequence complete.]

[New species registration in progress...]

[Host Number: S-001]

[Individual Codename: Manipulator]

[Status: Stable. All physiological indicators are being reconstructed.]

The last trace of black veins on Sarah's body sank beneath her skin, vanishing completely.

Her skin returned to a normal color. No, better than normal—the waxy pallor caused by blood loss was entirely gone, replaced by a healthy, almost glowing complexion.

She lay there quietly, as if asleep.

But Chen Feng knew she wasn't.

Because her fingers were moving.

First the ring finger, then the middle finger, one by one, as if she were relearning how to use her own body.

Chen Feng stood up and pushed the chair back.

He was calculating the time. From the injection until now, a total of—he checked his watch—fifty-seven minutes had passed.

Three minutes shorter than the system's longest estimated time.

Unexpected, yet somehow within reason.

Sarah's eyelids fluttered.

Then she opened her eyes.

Chen Feng saw her pupils.

Deep within the azure irises, a faint golden light flashed and vanished—so fast he almost thought it was a reflection from the emergency room's ceiling lights.

But the system panel immediately gave him the answer.

[Host visual system reconstruction detected as complete. Deep-layer pupil pigment mutation is a sign of Ouroboros Virus integration; invisible in daily states, appearing only in specific physiological states.]

The gold vanished in an instant, and Sarah's eyes returned to their original azure.

She stared blankly at the ceiling for two seconds.

Then she sat up.

Sarah looked down at her abdomen.

The surgical drape had fallen, and gauze and hemostatic clips were scattered across the bed. The fatal through-and-through wound had also disappeared.

Her skin was intact. Smooth. There were no wounds, not even a scar.

Sarah's hand pressed against that spot. She felt it once, then again.

Then she looked up at Chen Feng, who was standing by the bed.

Chen Feng met her gaze.

Sarah stared at his face. Her brain was still rebooting, and much information was churning—the explosion, the rebar, the young officer's face, darkness, pain—but the new sensations she was feeling now were pushing those memories to the back.

She felt her heartbeat.

It was an unprecedented, surging feeling of power rushing through her blood vessels. Every heartbeat was like an engine doing work; she could even feel the pressure of blood rushing through every capillary.

She could hear sounds.

The breathing of everyone outside the door. Marcus's, Amy's, Karen's, the emergency doctor's. Even further away—someone at the end of the corridor was on the phone, saying to another person, "Umbrella people have sealed the emergency room."

She could hear it clearly. Every single word.

Sarah's hand gripped the bed rail.

The stainless steel tube bent in her hand.

She looked down at the steel tube she had deformed, her expression freezing.

Chen Feng took a set of folded clean clothes from a nearby cabinet—a gray hoodie and sweatpants. He had Marcus bring them on the way; the sizes were based on what Amy had registered on the pre-employment physical exam form last month.

He walked to the bedside and placed the clothes by Sarah's hand.

"How do you feel?"

Sarah looked up at him.

Her gaze was complex. There was the daze of surviving a disaster, confusion over her own changes, and gratitude toward Chen Feng—but at the very depth, there was something else.

Fear.

Not fear of death, but fear that she had become something she didn't recognize.

"I..." she spoke, her voice a bit clearer than before, "what have I become?"

Chen Feng looked at her.

He didn't give her a scientist's answer, didn't throw out terms like "Ouroboros Virus Integrant."

"Someone who can master their own destiny."

Sarah stared at him for a long time, then took the clothes.

"Get out."

"Huh?"

"I said get out. Let me change."

Chen Feng looked at her.

You survived a less-than-ten-percent probability when you were half-dead, and the first thing you do when you wake up is tell me to get out?

He didn't say it out loud.

"Fine, take your time." He turned and walked toward the door, stopping halfway without looking back.

"By the way, when you said goodnight last time—"

"What?" Sarah's voice came from behind.

"Nothing. Call me when you're done."

Chen Feng pushed the door open and walked out.

As soon as the door opened, everyone's gaze smashed into him simultaneously.

Amy was the first to rush up: "Where's my sister!? How is she!?"

Karen used the wall to pull herself up, her entire body shaking.

The emergency doctor glared at Chen Feng, his face screaming, "You better give me an explanation or I'm calling the police right now," even though there were dozens of police officers on the scene.

Marcus was still blocking the doorway, steady as a rock.

Chen Feng looked into Amy's bloodshot eyes.

"Your sister is fine."

Amy's legs went weak. Karen directly covered her mouth.

The emergency doctor stammered, "Impossible, her injuries—"

"Go in and see for yourself." Chen Feng stepped aside.

The emergency doctor froze for a second, then almost ran into the emergency room.

Three seconds later, a very unprofessional voice came from inside.

"What the f—"

Then there was a flurry of footsteps as several nurses followed him in.

Chen Feng leaned against the wall and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Tony had sent three messages.

First: Nemesis has been safely recovered.

Second: News media are expected to receive the press release regarding the port explosion before dawn.

Third: Boss, there's an urgent matter. A group of 'temporarily reassigned' medical staff entered St. Marys Hospital forty minutes ago, but the hospital's HR department has no record of their transfer orders.

Chen Feng's thumb paused.

He looked up toward the end of the corridor.

There, three people in white coats were slowly pushing a medicine cart toward them. Their pace was steady and composed, and their builds under the white coats didn't look like they were the type to spend all day in a lab.

The leader was looking down at the clipboard in his hand, but his gaze went over the top edge of the board, landing exactly on the emergency room.

Chen Feng put his phone back in his pocket.

"Marcus."

"I'm here, Boss."

"The guests have arrived."