When they entered Aichi Prefecture, Ari suddenly sent a bombshell message—Transcendent! Of course, Ari hadn't seen a Transcendent with her own eyes; she'd learned about it online, which showed just how explosive the news had become. After all, if it wasn't blowing up all over the internet, how could an ordinary person like her even come across such intelligence?
Truth be told, Ayn and Aya weren't surprised when they heard the message; instead, they thought: This had to happen eventually, it finally got exposed. As for why "Transcendents" were revealed to the public, there were actually quite a few reasons behind it:
At first, it was because someone showed off their "Transcendent abilities" online, but back then, the displays were just minor tricks, like fingers shooting flames, using MP to levitate water, or showing off rapid wound healing. The vast majority of netizens dismissed it as magic or special effects. Even those who believed it were few and far between.
Besides, people's attention was almost entirely fixed on the "zombie outbreak." Those show-off videos were even scolded for exploiting a tragedy and were frequently taken down after being reported. After all, with so many dying in the disaster, such behavior seemed unbearably insensitive. As a result, those early videos related to Transcendents barely spread and almost no one paid attention.
But soon, things started spiraling out of control. Some netizens noticed that those "shameless streamers" were vanishing one after another. Some even disappeared mid-live stream, the footage cutting off abruptly and never resuming. Though most assumed they'd been banned by the platform, a few began to suspect it wasn't that simple.
What truly set the internet ablaze was a trio of consecutive events:
First, a crystal-clear video suddenly surfaced online: a flame-wielding Transcendent clashing head-on with zombies. The clip spread like wildfire across platforms at astonishing speed, clearly pushed by someone intent on amplification.
Second, one of those previously "missing" streamers reappeared on camera, claiming he'd been persecuted by the government—those officials wanted to dissect him like a lab rat for research, and he'd barely escaped the facility.
Then, a globally famous female celebrity held a press conference, publicly demonstrating her Transcendent abilities right there. The reason was simple: she was afraid of becoming the next "lab rat." With a stern expression on camera, she said: "If I suddenly disappear one day, that means those bigwigs have already dissected me."
Finally, more and more Transcendents began speaking out online. Some accused the government of secret human experiments, while others simply flaunted their powers. Among these Transcendents, some were in zombie-ravaged outbreak zones, others in cities still safe. In other words, Transcendents were emerging one after another across the globe.
The internet was already rife with conspiracy theories: some suspected the zombies came from a lab leak by a certain country or major corporation, others believed governments worldwide were hiding the full truth from the public. And once the "Transcendent" news broke, these theories hit a new peak—netizens grew even more convinced: The government must be concealing something. Because of this, the topic swept the entire web in no time, skyrocketing in popularity until even an ordinary person like Ari took notice, and she forwarded this shocking revelation straight to Ayn and Aya.
Among these events, the one that caught Ayn's attention most was the Transcendent who claimed he'd been persecuted by the government. That man was from some country, and his city hadn't even seen a zombie outbreak, which could have been considered quite fortunate. However, ever since awakening his Transcendent abilities, he'd brought big trouble on himself by showing off online instead.
According to his own account, a group of burly men had burst into his home and injected him with a syringe of anesthetic straight into his neck. When he woke up again, he was already strapped to an operating table in some laboratory. Luckily, he'd tapped into his potential in that desperate moment, bursting out with immense power—otherwise, he'd probably be experimental material on the dissection table by now. As for why he was so sure it was "government persecution," it was because he discovered the lab belonged to a national agency, so he naturally assumed it was the government's doing.
After understanding the full story, Ayn couldn't help but feel relieved that he'd always stayed cautious and never exposed his secrets. In fact, he'd long known this world was far more complex than it appeared—for example: certain countries were secretly pushing plans to extend their leaders' lifespans; certain major corporations were pouring huge sums into research on anti-aging and life-extension tech. So, he was very clear that once the existence of "Transcendents" was confirmed, there would inevitably be those coveting that power. That unlucky Transcendent was probably just one among many victims. Similar things might already be happening quietly around the world, just not exposed yet.
Of course, even if the media exposed these incidents, it couldn't stop those bigwigs from coveting that power. Why? Because health, youth, and longevity were things everyone craved—and the elite even more so. With wealth and power far beyond the ordinary, they naturally refused to age easily or lose their grip on controlling the world.
So, media exposure wouldn't make them back off; instead, it would only make them more secretive. They'd switch to cleverer methods and more hidden channels to continue those shady experiments. For instance, conducting human trials in some underdeveloped country under someone else's name. That way, even if the media caught wind of it, it had nothing to do with the bigwigs—they could ultimately enjoy the fruits of those experiments bought with other people's lives in peace.
So, what was the government's stance? How did they respond to the flood of "Transcendent" topics overwhelming the internet? Before the events blew up completely, governments around the world maintained a tacit silence among themselves—they tried to suppress the spread of public opinion through measures like restricting search results, blocking keywords, and shutting down related forums. But when things had fermented beyond control and could no longer be contained, the governments finally stepped forward with statements.
The declarations from various governments were almost identical: they vowed to "severely crack down on all illegal activities," to "do everything possible to protect every citizen's life, safety, and legitimate rights," and they called on those claiming to be "Transcendents" to proactively contact the authorities, promising them "full protection."
But words were just words; if it were Ayn in their shoes, he absolutely wouldn't reach out to the government, instead, he'd keep hiding his identity and pretending to be an ordinary person. The reason was simple, because the government might very well conduct human experiments on Transcendents too. Don't forget, the so-called "government" was ultimately just an organization made up of people. Perhaps a few among them truly didn't crave longevity or power, but most were ordinary mortals, all yearning for health, youth, and longer lives, and "Transcendent power" was exactly what could fulfill that desire.
Of course, the government would never publicly admit "we're doing human experiments." They'd phrase it differently, "for the health of all citizens," "to raise average lifespans," "to improve quality of life"—packaging the experiments as "formal," "legal," and "supervised" national medical programs.
Once the government, conglomerates, and the elite controlling media and resources reached a consensus, a deluge of propaganda would follow. Every kind of media, self-media, celebrities, and streamers would chime in unison: "For humanity's future, we must advance the Transcendent program." And faced with such an information bombardment, how many ordinary people could stay clear-headed?
Or think of it another way: if someone asked you, "Do you want to live longer? Want to have a twenty-year-old body and skin even at seventy?" Maybe you'd say "no" right now, but when you truly grew old, wracked by illness and pain, would your answer still be the same?
In fact, signs of this were already emerging online. Many people had started envying Transcendents, even idolizing them—they became fans, spending money on gifts and tips, leaving messages of blessing, all because they craved that power for themselves. And today they followed Transcendents out of envy; tomorrow, that craving might lead them to support so-called "Transcendent medicine" or "Transcendent initiatives." By then, would they still care about the Transcendents forced into experiments? Perhaps, but they'd tell themselves: "This is the price that must be paid for humanity's happiness."
Of course, this didn't mean the government truly disregarded Transcendent lives—on the contrary, they'd certainly "value" Transcendents, especially those who were powerful or possessed special abilities. After all, "powerful" and "special" inherently meant rarity, and rarity meant value and irreplaceability. But the government's so-called "value" was never respect for life itself, but rather cherishing a scarce resource. To them, Transcendents weren't vivid individuals, but expensive and precious experimental materials. So, before losing their utility, they'd be carefully protected; once the value was exhausted, they'd be discarded without hesitation.
Of course, Ayn also realized that his thoughts were perhaps too dark, maybe reality wasn't as bad as he imagined; perhaps the government really would respect Transcendents and genuinely want to protect them from persecution. But regardless of whether the government's intentions were benevolent or scheming, Ayn believed that pretending to be an ordinary person was the safest choice. Only in this way could he maximize his chances of avoiding getting dragged into the troubles that came with being a "Transcendent."
That said, Ayn didn't plan to pretend to be ordinary forever. If one day he became strong enough, or if the situation for Transcendents wasn't as dire as imagined, or if there was a major shift in the circumstances, he would reassess based on the situation. But for now, things remained chaotic and unclear, so he chose to keep watching.
As for the hot discussions online about "Transcendents," Ayn didn't pay much attention to them, let alone post any comments. He simply skimmed a few key pieces of information, confirmed the general situation, and then closed the webpage, ignoring it thereafter. Just as he'd said to Aya in Chapter 16: "Even if there are other Transcendents out there, what does that have to do with us? As long as our family stays safe, that's all that matters."
Aya felt the same lack of interest in these online topics; clearly, she'd taken Ayn's words to heart. Of course, her indifference had other reasons too. First, even before meeting Ayn, Aya wasn't the type to enjoy debating things online—she preferred to spend her energy on real life. Second, Aya's strength didn't depend on the government or conglomerates, or even all of human society; it was solely tied to the rules of the "system" itself.
If not for having the System, Aya might have chosen to cooperate with people like government officials or tycoons, borrowing their resources, technology, and scientists to grow stronger. Even paying a certain price for greater power and authority was something she could have accepted.
However, that didn't mean she liked dealing with such people. On the contrary, she utterly despised those relationships full of calculations and transactions; if not forced, she wouldn't touch them at all. Now that she had the system, why bother relying on others? Spending her time and energy on the one she loved, on her family—wasn't that better? So, Aya didn't care what upheavals human society was going through; for her, the only thing that mattered was Ayn.