257: Chapter 257 The Awakening of Heroes and the Price
The forty-seventh day of Long Zhantian's coma.
In the special intensive care unit of the "Ark" City Medical Center, the green waveform of the heart monitor continued to beat in a monotonous and regular rhythm.
The person on the bed still showed no signs of waking up.
His face was even thinner than it had been a month ago. His cheekbones protruded sharply, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and the once iron-cast, resolute contours were now reduced to the fragility of skin and bone. His skin had taken on an unhealthy grayish-white hue, the result of long-term confinement to bed and poor blood circulation.
But his chest continued to rise and fall.
His heart continued to beat.
He was waiting.
Waiting for a miracle.
Lin Mo came every day.
No matter how busy he was, no matter how many meetings, reports, and decisions awaited him, he would make time every day to come to this intensive care unit and sit quietly by Long Zhantian's bedside for a while.
Sometimes, he would speak.
"Old Long, today we deciphered seventeen percent of that core data. That logic hole is even deeper than I imagined. The 'Scavenger' command network indeed has a fatal blind spot..."
Sometimes, he said nothing at all.
He just sat there, looking at that pale face, looking at those eyes that were once as sharp as a falcon's but were now tightly closed.
Su Xiaowan accompanied him every time.
She never hurried him or disturbed him; she just stood quietly at the door, looking at the back of the figure sitting in the wheelchair, complex emotions surging in her heart.
Lin Mo was waiting.
Waiting for the man who had used his life to build a barrier for him to wake up.
The forty-eighth day.
The medical center urgently assembled GDA's top neurologists, biotechnology engineers, and core members of the "Prometheus" project.
They brought with them the latest research result—"Synaptic Regeneration Therapy," based on the biological tissue repair technology of the "pegasus" project.
This therapy utilizes gene-edited neural stem cells with powerful repair capabilities, combined with precise nano-scale biological scaffolds, to rebuild information transmission pathways between damaged neurons.
Theoretically, it could allow neurons that had died in large numbers due to being devoured by "Nano Ghosts" to "grow" new connections.
Theoretically, it could awaken those sleeping souls lost in the abyss of consciousness.
But the price was immense.
"More than thirty percent of General Long's cerebral cortex has completely necrotized." The chief neurologist pointed to the shocking black area on the holographic projection, his voice grave. "Even if we successfully activate the compensatory functions of the remaining neurons, his physical functions will be severely damaged. He may never be able to walk as before, lift heavy objects, or even stay awake for long periods."
"His memory may have issues. His emotions may become unstable. He..."
The expert paused, looking at Lin Mo's calm face—one that made people afraid to look directly at it—and continued with difficulty:
"He may never be able to return to the battlefield."
Dead silence filled the intensive care unit.
Su Xiaowan squeezed Lin Mo's hand.
Lin Mo remained silent for a long time.
He spoke. His voice was as calm as if he were stating a perfectly ordinary fact:
"Do it."
He looked up at the expert, enunciating each word:
"As long as it wakes him up. As long as it keeps him alive. Nothing else matters."
The expert nodded and turned toward the operating room.
Lin Mo lowered his head, looking at the pale face on the bed, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Old Long," he whispered, "did you hear that? You're going to wake up."
"But after this, you might not be able to charge into battle with me anymore."
"It doesn't matter."
"As long as you're alive, it's enough."
The surgery lasted for a full twelve hours.
Lin Mo sat motionless on the bench outside the operating room. Su Xiaowan had fallen asleep leaning on his shoulder. In her hand, she still tightly held the latest analysis report regarding the "Scavenger" main fleet that had just been compiled.
3:17 AM.
The operating room door finally opened.
The chief expert stepped out and removed his mask, a look of relief on his face, like someone who had survived a disaster.
"It was a success," he said, his voice hoarse. "His consciousness... has returned."
Lin Mo's body jolted.
He pushed his wheelchair and rushed into the intensive care unit.
On the bed, Long Zhantian's eyes slowly opened.
Those eyes were no longer sharp like a falcon's. They were cloudy, unfocused, and bloodshot, as if he had just awakened from a nightmare that had lasted for an eternity.
But they were open.
They were looking at Lin Mo.
Long Zhantian's lips moved slightly.
No sound came out.
Lin Mo leaned down, bringing his ear close to Long Zhantian's mouth.
The voice was as faint as the buzzing of a mosquito:
"Kid... I'm... back..."
Lin Mo's eyes instantly turned red.
He bit his lip hard, refusing to let the tears fall.
"It's good that you're back," his voice was hoarse. "It's good that you're back."
The corner of Long Zhantian's mouth quirked up in a slight smile.
The smile was weak but warm.
His eyes slowly closed again.
It wasn't a coma.
He had fallen asleep.
A true, peaceful sleep from which he would definitely wake up again.
The green waveform on the heart monitor continued to beat.
Steady and strong.
Just like his heartbeat.
Three days later.
Long Zhantian tried to sit up for the first time.
He failed.
His body—that body which had once been as indestructible as an iron tower—was now as weak as a pile of mud. He didn't even have the strength to lift his arm. His legs completely refused to obey him.
For the first time, an emotion he had never felt before appeared in his eyes—fear.
Not fear of an enemy.
But fear of his own broken body.
"I..." His voice was hoarse and carried a hint of a tremor, "I'm useless now."
Lin Mo sat by his bedside, looking at him.
"Useless?" His voice was calm. "You just need time to recover."
"Recover?" Long Zhantian smiled bitterly. "The doctor said I can forget about ever stepping onto a battlefield again for the rest of my life."
"Then don't," Lin Mo said. "I'll handle the battlefield."
Long Zhantian was stunned.
He looked into Lin Mo's calm eyes, which burned with a steady flame of determination, and fell silent.
For a long, long time.
He laughed.
In that laughter, there was bitterness and frustration, but more than anything, there was a deep sense of relief and acceptance.
"Fine," he said. "Then you'd better kill a few more for me."
Lin Mo also smiled.
"Until they're all dead."
Two hands gripped each other tightly.
It was a silent pact between two comrades who had survived the ultimate test of life and death.
One would continue the charge.
The other would watch over from the rear.
A month later.
Long Zhantian could sit up.
With someone's support, he could slowly and painfully take a few steps.
His memory indeed had issues. Sometimes, he would forget what he had just said. Sometimes, he would call Su Xiaowan "that girl" and Lin Mo "that kid."
But his will remained forged of steel.
He persisted in his rehabilitation training every day without fail. Every time he fell, he crawled back up himself. Every failure meant starting over from the beginning.
His body was slowly recovering.
Though it might never return to what it once was.
Every time Lin Mo came to see him, he would bring the latest battle report.
"Old Long, the 'Scavenger' main fleet has drawn closer. We estimate there are ten months left."
Long Zhantian listened, the flames of frustration burning in his eyes.
"Ten months... is that enough?"
"It's enough," Lin Mo said. "As long as we stand united, it's enough."
Long Zhantian nodded.
He looked at the endless starry sky outside the window and remained silent for a long time.
He spoke. His voice was hoarse but firm:
"Kid, promise me one thing."
"Say it."
"If one day, I really can't stand up, really can't walk, really become a complete invalid..."
He paused and turned to look at Lin Mo:
"Don't worry about me. Go fight. Go win."
"Kill those sons of bitches for me, until they're all wiped clean."
Lin Mo looked at him, silent for three seconds.
He smiled.
"Okay," he said. "I promise you."
Long Zhantian also smiled.
In that smile, there was no more fear, no more frustration.
Only a deep peace that comes after seeing through life and death.