Chapter 70
Biological Research Institute
The National Institute of Biology is located in the northern part of Eternal City. The institute has a long history. Originally, it was where the royal physician made elixirs, manufactured medicines, and grew herbs.
Over time, the place of healing and salvation has become a center for studying and experimenting with genetically modified organisms, genetic diversity of rare plants and animals, molecular pathology of humans, animals, plants... and many other things.
The institute has a total of eight floors. The ground floor is circular like a huge wheel, with a large open space in the middle. In the central position stands a statue of the institute's founder – the ancestor of biology in Prehistoric Kingdom.
The ground floor is the shaft that supports the floors above. The floors are divided into two symmetrical blocks, each with a stacked fan-shaped chest building. The top two floors are also built on the supporting shaft but are set back one meter.
This area is reserved exclusively for the leaders to hold meetings and rest. Behind it rises a cold, stark-white perimeter wall, tightly encircling the Biological Research Institute—a solid fortress guarding its "masters."
Three hundred guards wear blue-black camouflage armor, ammunition bandoliers strapped to their belts, daggers on their thighs, bulletproof helmets on their heads, and rifles on their shoulders. Some wield rifles, while others clutch submachine guns tightly.
Everyone's expression is like a bayonet pointing in four directions, sweeping their gaze like a razor, cutting through every position near and far. The team is divided into small groups, patrolling strictly in various places.
The remaining one hundred men are on duty on the ground floor, in the courtyard, and around the main entrance, reminding people to park in the right places.
They hear the familiar hum of the approaching car and line up in two rows to welcome the visiting congressman. Since joining the House of Commons, he often comes to work, visit, and see all the staff, leaders, and guards.
The leader donates a lot of goods and money to the institute. He always brings gifts, often a bag of cheap white wine and country dishes. Sometimes he hosts a good banquet. Common or luxurious, he is always happy to eat and drink with everyone.
As if blessed by God, during the time the congressman worked here, the twenty-year research topic was completed, coinciding with the 100th anniversary of the establishment of the Biological Research Institute. The government awarded a certificate of merit and a bonus of billions.
The congressman has already become excited about this achievement, which is worthy of being recorded in history, and he has bestowed JDS smartphones—the pinnacle of technology invented by the JK Corporation, equipped with waterproof functionality—on hundreds of people.
Any terrain: high mountains and wide seas, on the shore and underwater, down to the bottom of the sea or deep in the forest, it vividly records every hairline, takes photos a hundred times better than cameras, and highlights details from small to large...
JDS transforms any place its owner goes into a world-class cinema; play a movie, and a giant screen unfolds before the viewer's eyes, with sound and visuals at international standards. Whether at sea or in the mountains and dense forests, it can connect to the global network.
Each smartphone has been valued at half a billion in value. They have all been shocked by the unique rewards. The dose of mental stimulation has skyrocketed labor productivity.
The congressman has poured all his talents into helping the progress to be completed quickly. The results have been significantly better... each day has been better than the previous one.
Those who originally admired reputation and respected talent and virtue now hold a good impression of his incredibly friendly character. They respect the visionary and caring leader.
The soldiers wait for the car to stop in the white box on the right, then stamp their feet and stand at attention, shouting:
- Welcome sir to the National Institute of Biology!
The driver gets out of the car. He is tall and strong, with a square face, upright and resolute. But his sharp, single eyelids instantly elicit apprehension... anyone who sees them feels the cold sensation of a knife pressed to their neck.
People have remained cautious and vigilant, and have despised the desire hidden in his eyes. The Creator has "granted" him a mouth that has always turned up.
Show the good, hide the bad. He has tried to correct his unpleasant appearance but has not been able to resist God's will. His dangerous appearance for men and women has destroyed the exemplary image.
God has not taken everything from anyone, and this has been especially true for the driver. God has played tricks on appearance and has preferred to knead the perfect body.
He has had to seize this advantage to win back people's affection… the more he has gained, the better… by carefully dressing up and taking care of his appearance. At the same time, he has already hired a top team of fashion experts to advise him on the most suitable style.
Today, he is wearing shiny black leather pants that hug his muscular legs. He wears a black and gray waistcoat, externally a beaded crocodile leather jacket with a majestic roaring lion embroidered on the back. The clothes are specially sewn to fit his toned muscles.
He has taken special care of his hair, which has been short and fluffy, but wild like a lion's mane. This hairstyle has been very popular in the Land of Frost, and the person who started the hot style has been a national idol. Most young people, boys, and actors have imitated it.
Even though he has not been young for a long time, he has kept up with the fashion trend. What has been shocking is that he has merely been one of countless copies everywhere. But he has become the most perfect copy, more eye-catching than the original.
It has indeed been very useful. Women have been obsessed with beyond-standard bodies, and men have gone crazy about his physique, which has been as perfectly built as Hero's. Brave and capable soldiers have stood tall like a mountain, but have only stood under the jaws of a mighty lion.
A perfect body, outstanding height, and an overwhelming aura that dreads no prey... have turned him into the enemy's nightmare, and at the same time the dream of the guards who have long desired a strong, godlike appearance.
He has still not been satisfied, and has stubbornly adjusted his joints and facial muscles to correct the expression that has made others uncomfortable, hoping to make people feel more friendly toward him.
After practicing hard, he has succeeded: the lewd curve of his lips and his sinister look have become warm and friendly. He has confidently shown a charming smile that has attracted both men and women. The bodyguard is fully satisfied, yet calmly opens the car door for the congressman.
The politician is a hale and hearty man. He wears knee-high black boots bundled up on his western trouser legs, and crocodile leather gloves. A neatly tied tie is on his white shirt, worn with a silver waistcoat. He also wears a dark blue coat and a long coat with fox fur sewn around his neck.
The congressman smooths his wavy hair back and trims the beard that covers half of his rough black face. He walks with a cane and greets the guards in a friendly manner. After a few words of socializing, the congressman asks the driver-cum-bodyguard to wait next to the car, while he goes into the Biological Research Institute alone.
Wherever he goes, people in the Biological Research Institute, whether busy or idle, are overjoyed and show respect as if meeting the leader who liberates the country.
He smiles amiably and approaches a row of modern machines placed around the statue. The operating team immediately halt their work and greet him enthusiastically. He waves his hand lightly, as if to say that everyone should behave naturally:
- Stop being so rigid and treating me like a god. I'm no saint.
Everyone bursts out laughing, then listens as he asks about the work situation. The human resources department head reports:
- The machine system is running smoothly. The Sun Kingdom's privacy technology is perfect in every detail! Everything you upgraded was beyond imagination! Sir, we will complete the project today!
He hands the report to the congressman. The leader nods with satisfaction.
At this moment, a short and fat man with round limbs appears, walking like a piece of fat rolling around. The suit on his body looks as if it is about to burst out of a body made entirely of flesh and fat. He takes out a towel and wipes the sweat off his face, deliberately showing a happy smile:
- Hello, Mr. Congressman, sorry for the delay!
The congressman takes the initiative to raise his hand, and the fat old man excitedly catches it. Every time, the old man is happier than picking up gold, showing the attitude of a servant serving his master with all his heart. The congressman smiles at the flatterer with half his mouth open:
- What punishment do you think I should mete out to the head of the institute?
The fat old head of the institute is confused, his big fat face wrinkling like a pile of rotten meat. The congressman chuckles:
- Just kidding, why are you so nervous? - The congressman announces excitedly, causing everyone to get excited - I'm having lunch here today!
The head of the institute bows happily and says:
- Yah, yah, please wait a moment, sir, I will order the food right away!
The congressman looks out the door and watches the deliverymen bringing food to the soldiers and bodyguard. Four deliverymen carry the remaining boxes, large and small, inside. The personnel say to put them on the big table.
As usual, no one pays and the deliverymen leave, because the congressman always pays as soon as he buys. Asking for the bill is an insult to the gentleman's reputation and great wealth.
The congressman claps his hands and invites everyone to the party. Towards the end of the feast, the congressman says he wants to talk to the head of the institute. The fat old guy follows the man who can change his destiny. The master and the servant walk and talk. The congressman reports the good news:
Recently, you have been the most active in the Biological Research Institute. I report this effort to the government to promote you! You will be officially promoted next week!
The head of the institute smiles until his eel eyes narrow. He nods more than when he offers sacrifices to the stars, and expresses his gratitude:
- I will spend the rest of my life repaying this kindness!
The congressman says calmly:
- Your dedication to the country is the most meaningful reward!
The head of the institute admires a person with both moral integrity and talent. The huge fleshy face seems to melt into a pile of fat because of the emotion. The fat old guy waits for the two people to enter the room, carefully locks the door, and then flatters:
- From now on, I will be your most loyal courtier! Dear master!
For a month, the head of the institute was eager to contribute to the country. After less than three days of contact, from his behavior to his words, the fat old guy revealed his ambition to climb high but feared the pain of falling.
The coward has tried every means to have super durable protective equipment. The congressman has become a rope to maintain a solid balance. By tying his career to a rope that cannot break halfway, the wise man, even with his eyes closed, will climb to the peak of glory.
The congressman has met countless people who kowtow to power and accept being dogs that wag their tails to flatter their master.
The master only needs to give the dog a bone to gnaw down to the roots of its teeth, satisfying its animal instinct to terrorize the weak; this kind of creature that has walked on all fours has always been ready to crawl under its master's groin.
The owner has accumulated enough poison bait so that the dog will not bite back. The congressman believes he will fatten the dog to death, so he takes it hunting.
But this is not the only purpose. The congressman wants something else. The gentleman sees that the fat old guy is dizzy and advises him to take a good rest until he sobers up.
The head of the institute always becomes drowsy whenever he gets drunk. The big boss allows him to do so, so the fat old guy exhales. He loosens his tie, leans back in the armchair. His eyes are half closed, listening to the boss say:
- I'll go around and check!
The head of the institute made a sleepy 'hmph' sound, and then began to snore. The congressman waits another ten minutes, and the fat old guy falls asleep. At this time, he takes out his Halo and presses the button. All the camcorders transmit the panoramic view of the biological research institute inside and outside to the Halo screen.
Outside, soldiers are standing guard, while the bodyguard smokes casually and chats with them. On every floor, personnel and experts are still poring over their work, conducting experiments, and taking notes.
The congressman swipes two fingers across the keyboard and quickly clicks the "search" button. The screen flashes blue for thirty seconds, then displays number one. Satisfied, he leaves the room and goes to each place for a few minutes as usual, then comes to the forbidden layer.
This forbidden layer extracts medicinal materials, makes potions, applies science, conducts experiments, and stores thousands of specimens for the manufacture of biological weapons.
Only three groups of people are granted access: experts seconded by the government, this group is controlled 24/7 to prevent leaks and the sale of secrets to foreign countries.
The second is the national guards who risk their lives to protect the inviolable treasures. Finally, there are leaders at the level of congressman and above.
Every time the experts and officials come, their clothes and personal belongings are searched, whole-body tomography is performed. Soldiers are not allowed to enter without orders from their superiors, unless there is an emergency or an enemy attack.
The closer the congressman gets to the restricted area, the denser the cameras and security systems become on the walls. He comes here many times, but is always subject to strict scrutiny.
Today is no exception. The security team searches from inside to outside, looking for hair. Super technology carefully scans his cane, every centimeter of his body, and his skeleton.
The congressman takes off his gloves and places both palms on the sensor. The blue light flashes for thirty seconds, the virtual reality voice announces:
"Precise fingerprint!"
The congressman puts his face close to the next screen, and the recognition technology analyzes the hair, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, skin, and every cell on the face, scanning deep into the bones to the brain. The virtual girl voice sounds again:
"Precise face!"
The soldiers and security team make way. He greets everyone, opens the door, and goes down to the basement. In the past month, he has become familiar with the endless corridors and deep passages.
The ceiling is equipped with bright light trusses, and every ten steps, there is a camcorder on both sides of the wall, a continuously rotating tracking device, and the electronic eyes flash to illuminate the congressman's every move.
He walks neither fast nor slow, leisurely as if taking a stroll, the dry clack of shoe soles echoing on the stone floor. A few minutes later, he arrives at the largest room in the forbidden floor. The congressman stands motionless in front of the white door. It is still the place that has welcomed him for a month.
Now it is completely different.
It makes him hold his breath in suspense.
It makes him eager for the joy he has waited so long for.
For thirty years, he has put on a mask of benevolence, has patiently waited for the opportunity, has worked hard to plan, has used dirty and despicable tricks, has arranged the lives of his enemies, and has even set a trap for his adopted daughter in order to seize power. Power is the only way to the destination... to turn virtual dreams into reality.
The dream is about to come true, but the joy disappears along with his eager smile. As soon as he touches the door knob, his hand suddenly freezes and cannot turn it.
The security team and soldiers watch the congressman through the big screen. They raise their eyebrows, it is hard to understand why the congressman was so happy before, but now he is motionless like a person who has lost his soul.
- Why does he suddenly go dull?
Rushing in when there is no order yet, everyone has to go to the military court. But unable to simply stand there watching without taking action, everyone asks:
- What should be done? Captain?
The guy answers calmly:
- Wait patiently for a while, if he still doesn't move, we will contact him!
Everyone is still incomprehensible because the congressman is happy, and then he is confused. He stares at the door as if there is something inside that he has been longing for for a long time, and at the same time he has the most terrible obsession.
For the congressman at this time, "it" is no longer unconscious like every day. The stark-white wall pierces his eyes, revealing cause and effect and the weight of retribution:
He was immersed in first love, suffered from the pain of being deceived. The resentment of the old love clung to a guy who had nothing but money.
He has been proud of the perfect success of revenge, and then has struggled, has been tormented by the unforgivable sin. Ironically, the enemy has become the dearest person, and the one who created the karma has suffered the reverse retribution.
The congressman cries until his completely white eyes blur, ignoring the door that opens his second life, which is filled with countless faces like molded from the same mold: One kind of flattery shouts that he is a saint of the Prehistoric Kingdom. One kind of worship praises the great personality. The narrow kind envies the luxurious and huge career.
Everyone looks up to, envies the standard image, every family longs to be a national family: father and grandfather are moral exemplars – descendants are filial – talented and beautiful. The perfect life is a flashy cover to cover up sins.
The only sadness in that perfect world is the stains that can't be washed off.
In that illusion world, there is no competition, no hatred, no real joy, and no pain. Only all people bow down and worship the Creator God.
The God of Power changes anyone's life. Now he is about to rule at the top of heaven, his whole body shining with a dazzling halo. His fame overshadows the Supreme God.
Half of his life has been spent enjoying wealth and glory, admired by all, respected by the world…
Right now, by taking one more step, he is going to lead humanity into a new era of peace... equality... and... harmony.
The world that only appears in that dream will last forever.
It is a beautiful ending for a life that has always pursued perfection.
But...
Why can't he take a half step?
Just open the door and the perfect world comes true.
His hands tremble as he grasps the doorknob tightly but still can't turn it.
Is it because he has everything as beautiful as a dream, yet he still can't have a real family?
Is it because letting his dream come true has unintentionally pushed his loved ones into a hell with no way out?
He has expressed sincerity every day and has loved them wholeheartedly. He has hoped to hug his offspring just once, feeling satisfied. A strong longing has oppressed his mind until he has been distressed.
The father and grandfather have had to find all ways, regardless of tricks, to please them, with the hope of reviving the soulless corpse in the hell of insensibility.
Yet the peach blood remains indifferent to all his efforts.
He has been reunited with his offspring, but it has been like living with a corpse.
So...
Does he regret that his sins are tormenting and questioning his conscience?
"Regret? Dead-mother it laughing! Until now, you still dream of atonement for the sins you committed against your descendants? You're tired!"
The mental breakdown collapses with the physical collapse, and the congressman cannot hear the captain's voice playing on the loudspeaker on the wall:
"What's wrong with you, Mr. Congressman? Alo!?"
His mind is lost in the hoarse voice:
"I told you that there is no double happiness, but you still daydream. Stop being sentimental and make the perfect dream come true! That is the truth and purpose of your life!"
The scar on his eyelid twitches wildly. He pins his hateful gaze on "the phantom" without shape. In fact, he wants to avoid the door that is turning into erotic pink. The sexually suggestive color is a nightmare for the family.
The "phantom" is tired of his weak spirit and lack of courage to face past karma. The shadow exhales and looks at the hallucinations that turn into his own descendants immersed in the intoxicating yeast of sin.
Shameful, wet passions smear the face of the man who sacrificed himself for his dearest person. The miserable guy is buried in hatred, shame, and embarrassment over carnal desires. The sticky and slimy stains the three tearful moons crimson.
The "phantom" sighs as if to say that everything is over and regrets are also meaningless. He lethargically watches his relatives wriggling in joy. Carnal instincts insult their will under the lower body of their father's enemy. The descendants bite their bloody lips together but still cannot block the shameful sound.
The humiliating moans stir the congressman's mind. He holds his head and covers his ears, but the passionate and wild sounds swirl into his mind, teasing, mocking, and sarcastically taunting the father who forced his descendants to commit incest.
He blames fate for playing tricks.
Anger at himself leads to hatred and blind rationality.
He is ashamed of himself for creating sin.
He regrets burying his own flesh and blood under the mud.
The congressman cannot stand the sound of moaning like a whore. His mind is crushed. He who sowed the wind and reaped the storm turns his resentment, shame, and disgust into hatred for the hypocrites who have polluted his dearest person.
Since knowing that the enemy is family, the congressman has been determined to suffer from sin phobia, but still did not expect that this pain would penetrate his heart.
The heartache twists in the scene where the relatives reach the peak of joy. The pain beyond the limit becomes an illusion: the offspring expose their slutty appearance, crazy sex through all the sexiest obscene postures, as if lust is their true essence.
The descendants are dancing on the superfluous object, destroying the maze and forbidden ground, shaking their chests, bending their hips, and pressing the Garden of Eden against the pervert's face. He frantically stirs his mouth and tongue to suck all the dirty holy water that soaks the obscene face.
They stick out their tongues, lick their lips, and sweep their mouth edge to laugh at the father and grandfather who turn relatives into pigs and dogs. The satisfied laughter is the climax of the estrus, reaching its peak. It sounds like "thank you" to the person who gave birth to them for giving them the opportunity to fully enjoy the passion of the flesh.
"If you knew they were your offspring, even if you couldn't take revenge on your ex-lover, and even if your perfect fantasy world was shattered, you would never be so ruthless as to bury your own flesh and blood in the mud! You look at Hoang Kim: it is passionately pounding and smashing the offspring. The fake hero is kissing, licking, and sucking happily, causing the mother and daughter to be soaked all over, the sticky mucus is wet everywhere".
The "phantom" keeps cursing; it's foul. This strong smell of sex is killing me!
"The beast sneers at you again. Are you feeling humiliated? He despises the father and grandfather who have given him his daughter, who exudes the fragrance of pure jade and flowers, and his granddaughter, who exudes the intoxicating fragrance of immaculate ice—letting him enjoy them."
The shapeless face suddenly twists and deforms into a shape: hatred deeply carves the turbid pupils into deep, sunken, wild white eyes. The twitching eyelids carve thirty years of grace, resentment, love, and hate into a devil's face.
"Those who don't know are of course innocent. You have done nothing wrong to anyone. The guilty person is a heartless whore. The creator of karma is the bastard son of the woman who abandoned you.Him! It's him! That beast—he's the one who has turned your loved ones into lustful prostitutes!"
Every inferior word denies his guilt. Every shameless word shirks responsibility and meanly places all the causes and consequences onto the enemy, delivering a psychological blow to the congressman.
"The phantom" realizes the bowed head collapses crying. The congressman is squeezing his hands until they bleed, but he cannot stop the impulse. His whole body is shaking constantly; every outburst of anger causes the scar above his eyelids to twitch with dark red, hot tears.
"Hahaha, that's right, you are innocent. The mother and son of that dog guy are the ones who are guilty. If the beast didn't play the trick of being a hero saving a beautiful woman to seduce his relatives, your offspring would not have felt guilty affection. That hypocrite guy is living like... only seeing women as females... letting him satisfy his humble desires. Quickly regain your spirit, quickly get angry, hate, quickly explode with domineering wildness, because that is your nature."
The phantom moves closer to the congressman's angry face:
"They will never forgive you. You have lost your family; you cannot lose the dream you have cherished all your life! Broken family relationships, dreams shattered—you will lose everything!"
Extreme excitement twists the dark mouth up to the ears:
"That's right... Stand up... I know you don't want to eat bitter fruit to no avail all your life. At least pay a fair price for this karma sin?!"
The congressman roars in his subconscious. He will not accept such a humiliating retribution without getting anything. "The phantom" is right. He must complete his perfect dream to make up for the loss.
"The phantom" triumphantly watches the congressman as he tries to lean on the cane, his body trembling but still haughtily standing tall. The painful expression of living worse than dying has gone; the fragile look no longer remains.
But…
Why look deeply into the congressman's sorrowful eyes…
The strange thing is that he doesn't need to hide the pain that twists his heart...
The guy without a heart is dumbfounded by the feeling in his chest... throbbing pain...
The invisible "phantom" squeezes his chest but can't stop it... the pain that tears his heart apart... he has never felt it before.
Bewildered by the strange feeling that wipes out the devil's laughter, the angry "phantom" presses its panicked face against the congressman's and shouts with hatred twisting in its heart:
"Why do I have to suffer this cursed pain? Why do I feel pain because you are sad? Tell me, you droopy bastard!"
The congressman does not remove "the phantom's" hand that is squeezing his neck. He smiles bitterly, pitying the guy without a heart:
"Because I see priceless treasures that you cannot see…"
The "phantom" hates being teased with hidden words the most, the "old guy" roars like a lost beast:
"Damn your mother, stop playing tricks on me, answer me, why can't I see what you see!?"
The congressman sneers and despises "the phantom":
"Because a devil does not deserve to be with an angel."
"Throw away that fucking feeling! If you don't explain yourself clearly, I'll torture you to death!"
The congressman smiles contemptuously because whenever the "phantom" gets angry, it is extremely stupid:
"If you torture me, you torture yourself! Because I am you and you are me—we are one! You are happy when I am sad. I will force you to feel it—every sin you sowed in the past shall be transformed into an everlasting present. And I force you to feel the pain of inexplicable sadness!"
The "phantom" cackles at the stupid old guy:
"Bullshit! Your sadness is always my happiness. Whenever I see you hanging your head like a dead dog, I feel more pleasure than having an orgasm with a girl!"
The congressman ponders, looking at the "phantom," which is no longer a white shadow. All kinds of feelings have turned the monster into his own shape, as if he is facing himself in a mirror. The shadow is always lurking behind him, inciting and forcing him to do what it wants.
The spirit is oppressed, but when he is upset or in a dilemma, he has to rely on the monster to deal with it all. From past to present, the proud man has thought himself smart, knowing everything, never needing to ask anyone. Now, he doesn't understand the feeling of the idyllic.
Even though the demon has become human, he does not accept his humanity.
The congressman sighs softly. His tired and compassionate attitude immediately provokes the "phantom." But before it can get angry, the sound echoing quietly in his chest causes the "phantom" to stop dead in its tracks.
It doesn't want to believe that there is again the sound of vitality… a heartbeat... the feeling of a human being rising.
The monster is shocked, slowly loosening its hands that are squeezing the congressman's neck. The gentleman leisurely adjusts his clothes and calmly answers the captain's call:
"I'm fine. I have been suffering from insomnia these past few days, have rheumatism, am under the weather, and my legs are not in good condition. I must sit down to relieve muscle fatigue!"
The captain utters "ah" twice and stops asking questions. The guy frowns as he watches the congressman walk strangely, as if he is walking past someone. The congressman even opens his mouth slightly as if he is talking to himself.
The congressman regains his composure. His skill in absolutely concealing himself in front of outsiders helps him to monologue with the "phantom" confidently:
"A being who was afraid to be human now begins to have shape and humanity. A being who had no heart and did not need a heart now has to listen to the slimy piece of meat rising with the warmth of emotion."
The congressman laughs sarcastically at the still frozen phantom. Surprise squeezes the panicked face into blank dullness.
"Congratulations, you are no longer a monster without a heart!"
For the first time, he gets to ridicule the one who always mocked him, the congressman leaves the phantom wandering and staggering in the corridor. He lets out a loud, refreshing laugh, opens the door, and enters the forbidden room.