Doomsday Spiritual Artifact Master
chapter-139-2

Chapter 139.2 – Fire Seed (8)

◎ Niu Hulu Qingyan ◎

Silver Bay was only a two-hour journey from the Northern Base by a starship. However, when V587 arrived, there was no place for them to step foot on the beach. Like Qianzhan City, this place was filled with awakeners, resembling a chaotic marketplace.”

“Make way, make way, we were here first… Get out of the way, don’t you understand human language?”

“Who the hell do you think you are, motherf*cker? If I’ve grabbed it, it’s mine. If you have the guts, try to snatch it back, hahaha!”

“You @#％&*! Get lost, you @#&……”

A wind-elemental awakener took advantage and stirred the sea, causing the water to surge and churn, forming huge waves crashing ahead. The mutated creatures hiding below were overturned, and Song Ke witnessed a scene she never wanted to recall in her lifetime.

Uncountable monstrous ribbonfish, three-headed deformed eels, mudskippers as thick as arms, and thousands of ferocious octopuses and squids rained down like hail, their pungent stench and sea smell assaulting everyone’s senses.

The awakener rushed in, frenetically grabbing, their dazzling array of skills almost blinding the onlookers nearby.

But Song Ke and her group couldn’t even make a move, not even scraps were left for them.

Well, maybe there were scraps to pick up.

“Pap—” a thorned eel fell by Song Ke’s feet, its jagged teeth clamping onto her shoe, pierced through expressionlessly by her.

“Pap—” a ribbonfish slammed onto Lin Youyou’s shoulder, its wriggles delivering a hefty slap.

“Damn it.” Lin Youyou was dumbfounded, experiencing the first time in her life getting slapped by a fish.

Su Cha swiftly grabbed the ribbonfish with one hand, dispersing a poisonous mist and promptly snapped its neck.

“Are… are you okay?”

Lin Youyou turned her head dazedly, then gritted her teeth: “If I don’t exterminate the ribbonfish clan today, my last name isn’t Lin.”

However, bold words came easy, but tackling the monsters was not as simple.

Song Ke fired an arrow, pinning down a Level 3 mutated razor clam. Before she could rejoice, a sand-elemental awakener swiftly enveloped it in quicksand, cleanly snatching away her trophy.

Song Ke exclaimed in shock and anger, “Thief!”

Looking around, it was a sea of either human or monster heads, making it impossible to spot any thief.

Others weren’t faring much better. Most were dignified individuals not willing to lose face, dividing their focus between fishing and protecting their own catches. But other awakeners had no qualms, shamelessly seizing anything, theirs or not, stuffing it all into their own pockets.

Su Cha and Lin Youyou, busy cutting ribbonfish, had their loot stolen by someone else.

Xu Xing froze an area with his awakened ability, but before he could rush over, a spatial awakener swooped in and vacuumed his catch, leaving him infuriated.

As for Lu Xiaoyu… he was the only one putting up a fight, utilizing all six arms to specifically snatch other people’s monsters.

And then there was Zhuang Qingyan, struck by his germaphobia, who had long distanced himself, wearing an expression of complete disdain.

Song Ke locked eyes with him, Zhuang Qingyan leaning weakly against his wheelchair, his gaze filled with accusation: You have the heart to make me catch fish?

Alright, alright, Song Ke couldn’t bear to let him do the work.

After toiling away the whole day, they barely scored 50,000 points. Checking the rankings, she chuckled bitterly—they had slipped back two spots again.

When V587 returned to the Northern Base, everyone wore sour expressions; the starship reeked of a strong stench of decay.

Their opening move had obviously fallen flat.

Song Ke sighed inwardly. If things continued like this, would she become the first S-level eliminated due to lagging rankings in the Northern Base?

…

“I heard you went to snatch fish. Hahaha, still not successful?” Ye Zimei’s laughter came through the terminal.

“Don’t mention it,” Song Ke groaned, massaging her temples.

“Song Ke, do you know anyone at the base?”

Ye Zimei laughed at her for a while before getting serious: “The top-level awakeners have their own circle. I heard that the teams at the forefront of the rankings have created an exclusive channel. Those S-level and A-level commissions with high return rates are basically monopolized by them and cannot fall into the hands of outsiders.”

“If you have connections, get them to invite you into the channel. It’s definitely more efficient than snatching fish—hahaha!”

…Connections?

A face slowly surfaced in Song Ke’s mind: wearing sniper goggles, black sniper gloves while handling guns, with untamed features, a sparkling ruby earring on the right ear.

It seemed like she did have someone.

“And another thing, your… um, family member from before wanted to meet Professor Ming Gang and his wife, right?” Ye Zimei said, “Their visitor appointment channel was closed many years ago, and they haven’t appeared in public for a long time. I found Professor Ming’s current address on Middle Ancient Street. Whenever you guys have time, I’ll accompany you there.”

“Alright, I’ll ask first.”

*

An experimental laboratory filled with instruments.

The sound of machines beeping intermittently echoed, gene sequences slowly rotating in the air.

Two corpses lay in observation chambers, their skin extensively decayed, their pupils a murky gray—these were the Fallen captured from Haimen. An invisible shadow was corroding their bodies, one of them having already lost all signs of life.

“Radiation levels report.”

“47.75%, nearing critical threshold!”

“Awakened energy levels.”

“…0.”

The upper body of the living corpse suddenly stiffened, arching into a bridge-like form, emitting a hoarse, mournful groan from its throat before collapsing heavily, breathless.

“Confirmed… the subject is deceased.”

The surrounding assistants remained silent as the weight of failure lingered in the air.

After a full two minutes, a hoarse voice broke the silence, slowly uttering, “Record: radiation exceeds 47.75%, DNA double-strand breakage, chromosome deactivation, organ dissolution… Primitive cells have lost regenerative capabilities. The fourth awakening experiment, unsuccessful.”

“Dr. Ning, how do we dispose of these two discarded experimental subjects?”

“Destroy them,” a man with graying temples and a gaunt face spoke softly.

Another failure, countless failures that had left the faces in the laboratory drained and the atmosphere heavy.

A lab-coated assistant entered from outside, holding a screen of light.

“Dr. Ning, the awakener department sent a file. They say the subject in the file may have a genetic condition, they want you to take a look.”

“Do you think I have nothing else to do?”

The man’s expression showed embarrassment. “This is Commander He’s instruction.”

He Qiuhong was the financial backbone of the entire laboratory. Dr. Ning stayed silent for a moment, not refusing further, taking the screen and examining its contents.

Initially casually browsing through it, gradually, his pace slowed, his expression grew more solemn. Finally, he lingered for a long time on page 17—a massive shadow completely engulfing the body. Compared to this image, the Fallen who had just died from excessive radiation seemed utterly laughable.

“What is this? A newly discovered mutated zombie?”

“No,” the assistant was startled, hastening to explain, “It’s an S-level newcomer at the base.”

“An awakener…” Dr. Ning flipped back to the report’s cover, reading aloud the name written on it: “Song Ke.”

“The report stays with me. Please, have Director He find a way to bring this… Song Ke to the lab.”

“Huh? For what reason?” the assistant hesitated to ask.

“For further genetic examination.” Dr. Ning gestured to the section of the genetic report towards the back.

…

In the Central District’s Garden Apartments, a tall, slender figure stood by the French windows.

The man, nearly 185 cm tall, had elongated limbs and a graceful posture. His facial features were defined and smooth, with deep-set eyes and a straight lip line when not smiling. Gazing down at the world, he seemed like an impassive and distant deity.

Fang Zhixu sighed while stroking his chin, “Truly living up to the S-level, huh? Half a month earlier in recovery time than I anticipated.”

Hearing this, Zhuang Qingyan turned around. Broad shoulders and a straight back, a slender waist tucked neatly under the tailored pants, encasing two extraordinarily long legs.

“Thank you, Dr. Fang, for your miraculous recovery skills, which prevented any lasting effects.”

“When do you plan to inform the captain?”

“No rush,” Zhuang Qingyan smiled, his glasses’ chains gently swaying with the motion, exuding an air of grace and elegance.

Being in a wheelchair wasn’t bad at all. His carefully crafted image of being a fragile and delicate “little white flower” could always get some unexpected care from Song Ke.

“Zhuang Qingyan!”

The door was pushed open forcefully, and Song Ke stormed in, “Ye Zimei said she’ll accompany us…”

Zhuang Qingyu: “…” Facepalm.

He sighed in resignation, “Song Ke, can you please knock before barging into my room?”

Song Ke didn’t hear a word he said, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ shape.

It was the first time she had seen Zhuang Qingyan standing so relaxed, without the aid of a cumbersome cane, without the urgency of a sealing injection. He stood there, using his two perfectly normal legs that belonged to him.

Outside the window, the golden dawn of early morning painted the sky as numerous aircraft moved about.

Zhuang Qingyan’s superior silhouette stood backlit, seeming to carry an immense radiance upon his shoulders.

The feeling it evoked was both familiar and strange.

It was as if he had become someone else, yet still Zhuang Qingyan, yet not quite him.

In Song Ke’s mind, a line from a palace intrigue drama that Aming loved watching surfaced at an inappropriate moment:

“The former Zhuang Qingyan is already dead. Now standing before you is—Niu Hulu Qingyan.”

**TN

“钮祜禄” (Niǔ Hù Lù) is a Chinese internet buzzword that gained popularity from the TV series “Story of Yanxi Palace” (延禧攻略). It’s a playful, humorous nickname given to one of the main characters, Emperor Qianlong, whose full name was “Hongli” (弘历).

“Niu Hulu” originated from a scene where the character said, “From now on, I’m not Emperor Qianlong, I’m… Niu Hulu!” It was a comical moment that resonated with viewers and quickly became a popular meme and catchphrase. The phrase is often used humorously or ironically online, referencing the emperor’s playful, less formal side portrayed in the show.

In addition, in the TV dramas “Empresses in the Palace” and “Ruyi’s Royal Love in the Palace”, when someone is given the surname “Niu Hulu,” it means they have become cunning and no longer innocent.