95: Chapter 95 Wuhu Gene

In the conference room, the President slowly raised his head and looked at the Minister of Health sitting across from him.

That look translated to: Do you think my job as President is too easy, so you're intentionally making some fun for me?

The President slammed the report onto the table: "Are you trying to get me to tweet that our trade cooperation with Planet Wuhu has made significant progress, and that all citizens who bought the Special Ability potions have successfully gained the ability to provide early warnings before severe weather arrives?"

The Minister of Health explained, "Mr. President, is it possible that the people coming for physical exams are all elderly, while the young people don't even come even if the exams are free?"

"Therefore, a large number of reports regarding rheumatism and bone spurs appeared in the examination reports."

Just as the President was feeling embarrassed, Advisor Cole walked in with a stack of documents tucked under her arm.

"Mr. President." She spread the documents on the table, "We have detected residues of those alien potions on the oral mucosa of many people."

The President's eyes lit up instantly, comparable to the first flare in the night sky over Baghdad: "What was detected?"

Cole opened the first test report and flipped to the ingredient analysis table: "Mostly clear water."

The President didn't speak, but his facial muscles twitched.

"But," Cole held up a second report, "we also detected some unknown trace elements."

Cole pushed the report in front of the President, her fingertip pointing at several abnormal peaks on the elemental analysis spectrum. "Our spectral analysis lab worked overtime all night and concluded that these elements do not belong to any known substance on Blue Star."

"It is currently unclear whether these trace elements are what caused the Special Ability to appear in the human body."

The President leaned back in his chair, his right index finger unconsciously tapping the table: "Are you saying they diluted the Special Ability potions with water?"

Cole didn't answer directly; she pulled out a third report.

"In the action report submitted by Sergeant Barnes, one thing was mentioned."

Cole flipped to one of the pages and read, "He noticed something unusual when he reached the nineteenth bottle. The first eighteen bottles were all sweet, but the nineteenth bottle wasn't particularly sweet. After drinking it, his right palm developed an effect that could chill objects."

The President suddenly laughed and clapped his hands: "A clever move. I thought these aliens had very backward business thinking, but I didn't expect there to be clever people among them too."

The President continued: "This kind of business, in essence, isn't selling potions, but hope. One thousand dollars to buy a 'what if I awaken' possibility."

"At the beginning, everyone wants to try something new, so there will always be a line. But once the novelty wears off, how many people do you think will be willing to spend this money for this ethereal Special Ability?"

He spread his hands: "The person selling lottery tickets isn't most afraid of no one winning. What they fear most is no one winning for too long, not to mention that one thousand dollars isn't a small amount."

Cole had to admit that when it came to doing business, no one in this room understood it better than this President.

After the President finished deconstructing the aliens' business model, his expression returned to being serious.

He turned to the medical expert group on his left: "Has anything been detected from those confirmed awakened Espers?"

An expert wearing gold-rimmed glasses stood up and connected a laptop to the projector.

The screen lit up, showing a blood analysis chart marked with dense gene sequences.

"We have detected a segment of non-human DNA in the blood of these awakened individuals."

The expert pushed up his glasses: "Furthermore, this segment of DNA in each awakened individual has a different sequence."

He showed several comparison charts: "Sergeant Barnes' genetic fragment exhibits certain low-temperature expression characteristics. Our preliminary judgment is that it targets and controls the heat exchange efficiency of the capillaries in the palm."

He switched to another slide, "As for that awakened individual of Korean ethnicity, his exogenous gene expression is an abnormal proliferation of hair follicle proteins, which is why spikes are sprouting all over his face."

The President nodded: "So, what name did you give this gene?"

The expert exchanged a look with the colleague next to him.

"Since they were brought by those people from Planet Wuhu," he said, "we are temporarily calling it the Wuhu Gene."

The President narrowed his eyes: "I still think calling it the Trump Gene would be better."

Everyone looked at the President speechlessly, their expressions saying: Could your ego be any bigger?

The President didn't dwell on the naming issue and asked another question: "Is this gene hereditary?"

The expert spoke cautiously: "We don't have a large enough data sample to draw a conclusion. But based on the gene expression patterns observed so far, our preliminary judgment is: yes."

He opened an analysis report: "But the probability of inheritance shouldn't be high. Moreover, there might be a distinction between dominant and recessive traits."

"Understood." The President moved his gaze away from the projection screen and turned to Cole, "How are the preparations for causing trouble for those people from Planet Wuhu coming along?"

A smile finally flickered at the corner of Advisor Cole's mouth: "Everything is arranged, Mr. President."

The President stared at her for a moment: "Make sure it's not just an ordinary person. In the United States, it's hard enough for an ordinary person to file a lawsuit in a normal court, let alone the Interstellar Court? That would be too obvious."

Cole pulled the last document out of her briefcase.

"Don't worry." She placed the document in front of the President, "I guarantee it's someone qualified to sue Ball Chief Chen Mu."

The President looked down at the plaintiff's information. The first line caught his eye; he froze for a moment, then looked at Cole: "Go ahead and do it, but don't reveal that we are the ones arranging it behind the scenes."

Cole smiled: "Don't worry, Mr. President. Those people from Planet Wuhu are acting perversely on their own; we are merely providing some assistance."

The President watched her back as she turned toward the door and added: "By the way, remember to notify me when the trial is being live-streamed."

——————

In Queens, at Midtown High School, when Peter Parker dashed out of the subway station, his backpack was hanging off only one shoulder, with the other strap swinging behind him like an out-of-control tail.

Thanks to the major development in New York City, two extra subway trains were temporarily added in the morning, which saved him from the fate of being squashed like a canned sardine.

As Parker just rounded the corner of the school hallway, the sight before him made his footsteps falter.

Tom Lane was standing right in the middle of the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest. He had a lackey standing on either side of him, the trio's formation looking like a substandard school security gate.

"Yo, Parker." Tom took the first step forward, "I heard you went to be an assistant to the Ball Chief the day before yesterday?"

Several students in the hallway who were changing their textbooks slowed down at the same time. One boy stopped halfway while pushing his locker door, his eyes turning toward them.

After all, topics about Chen Mu had been dominating the trending searches, especially for these hormone-filled young people who were particularly curious about everything related to aliens.