ABFA Chapter 60

This tunnel system was far more complex than Jiang Yue had imagined. The passages were comparable to a labyrinth; relying on memory alone, it would be difficult to keep track of them. The intricate mine tunnels were like the countless interwoven branches of a luxuriant, sprawling tree.

Fortunately, Jiang Yue had a keen sense of smell and was able to locate Pan Bu’en by following his scent. The old soldier was sitting in a narrow mine passage, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette, with a dim yellow lamp placed beside him.

By its faint light, Jiang Yue was surprised to discover that the white crystal deposits here were exceptionally abundant. An entire wall was covered in gleaming white crystal ore, resembling a jade bi disc carved from pure white jade.

Jiang Yue’s nose twitched. She noticed that what the old soldier was smoking smelled a little strange. It wasn’t like an ordinary cigarette; it lacked that sharp, pungent bite and instead gave off a faint woody fragrance.

Pan Bu’en noticed her reaction. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, and the ash was actually white. Jiang Yue’s gaze lingered on it, a trace of puzzlement appearing in her expression.

The old soldier spoke, “What a perceptive child. You’re very good at observing things.”

Pan Bu’en looked at Jiang Yue with approval, making her feel a little embarrassed.

“It’s nothing,” Jiang Yue said. “My sense of smell is just more sensitive than most people’s.”

Pan Bu’en glanced at her and asked, “Child, has your body ever undergone any modifications?”

Jiang Yue replied, “I was once parasitized by the Zerg race. Some people suspect that I’m a Perfect Parasite.”

A Perfect Parasite—someone who has been infected by a Zerg egg, whose body’s structure is permanently altered during the egg’s incubation process. Then, due to a series of complex circumstances, the egg developing within the human body suddenly ceases to grow and is absorbed by the host instead.

The concept was first proposed during an operation to exterminate the Zerg race. A soldier was parasitized by the egg of a Portuguese man-of-war. After the egg began incubating inside his body, it was absorbed by him for unknown reasons. From that point on, his body possessed some of the characteristics of the Portuguese man-of-war.

For example, a lock of the soldier’s hair emitted a blue-violet glow, and his entire body contained terrifying neurotoxins. In addition, he became immune to most Zerg-egg infections.

Jiang Yue had searched through a great deal of information but was unable to find any further details about this soldier. The issue was one of insufficient clearance—some information could only be accessed by certain authorized individuals.

A series of footsteps echoed from deeper within the mine tunnel. Jiang Yue turned around and saw Zhang San strolling over at an unhurried pace, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Li Si, why are you walking so fast? Didn’t we agree to come find Old Pan together?”

Jiang Yue had no desire to respond to him. She simply couldn’t stand his incessant chatter. Zhang San, meanwhile, wasn’t intimidated by her cold expression in the slightest. Chuckling cheerfully, he found a place to sit down.

Jiang Yue automatically tuned Zhang San out and turned her gaze back to Old Pan.

“Do you know a lot about Perfect Parasites?” she asked.

Zhang San let out a snort of laughter and slapped his thigh.

“Not just a little, we know them very well. The two people who understand Perfect Parasites better than anyone in the entire galaxy are sitting right in front of you.”

Jiang Yue was stunned.

“Could it be… Senior Pan… you’re a Perfect Parasite too?”

The hand-rolled cigarette between Pan Bu’en’s fingers slowly burned down to its end. He brushed the white ash from his sleeve and said to Jiang Yue: “I never used to believe in fate. But some things, some events… they simply are fate.”

He reached up and removed the black pointed hat from his head. Jiang Yue’s eyes widened abruptly as she stared at the scene before her in utter disbelief.

Amid the old man’s disheveled gray-white hair, a single blue-violet lock had been twisted into a small topknot. The topknot emitted a blue-violet glow, and in an instant, the light radiating from it illuminated the dim mine tunnel.

A wave of dizziness washed over Jiang Yue, nearly leaving her unable to breathe. She gripped the hilt of Chang Geng tightly, her knuckles whitening. Her lips parted and moved several times, but not a single word came out.

Zhang San smiled at Jiang Yue.

“Listen to Old Pan’s story. Once you’ve heard it, you’ll believe me. I would never harm you. Even if I were to die, I would never report you to the Federation, or to any other faction.”

Jiang Yue looked at Old Pan, then at Zhang San. After a long silence, her throat bobbed as she finally forced out the words. “What exactly is going on?”

Pan Bu’en slowly closed his eyes. In that instant, he seemed to age even more. Every wrinkle on his face, every brown age spot on his skin, appeared etched with profound vicissitudes and desolation.

From him, Jiang Yue sensed something incomparably heavy.

In that moment, she thought of many protagonists from literary stories, people who were just like Pan Bu’en.

They were all individuals toyed with by fate. Again and again, and again and again, every one of their struggles ended in failure, until they began to question the very meaning of being alive.

The mine tunnel was oppressively silent. After a very, very long time, Pan Bu’en finally opened his eyes. His thin, bony hand fumbled inside his clothing for a moment before he pulled out another hand-rolled cigarette.

Zhang San let out a sigh and pulled a lighter from his pocket, using it to light Pan Bu’en’s hand-rolled cigarette.

Pan Bu’en took a deep drag, then exhaled a plume of white smoke. Leaning against the mine wall, he spoke slowly:

“That was seventy-two years ago. In that year, a massive Zerg outbreak suddenly erupted on Aquarius. Portuguese man-of-wars began proliferating throughout every body of water. I led the Warhorse Squad to the Furious Sea to eliminate them. It was during that battle that I was parasitized by a Portuguese man-of-war egg.”

“So,” Jiang Yue said, “you were the first Perfect Parasite.”

Pan Bu’en nodded. A faint smile appeared on his face, tinged with sadness.

“That’s right. Back then, I was still called Pan Yue. After being infected by the Zerg egg, I threw myself into the sea to keep from becoming a breeding ground for it.”

He took a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled.

“Looking back on it now, I really should have died in the Furious Sea.”

“But I didn’t die. When I woke up, I was floating on the surface of the water. The waves of the Furious Sea had already calmed, and the ocean was eerily still. Having survived such a disaster, I was overjoyed. I immediately started swimming back, searching for our warship.”

“As the sky gradually grew dark, you all know that when a person is in seawater, their body temperature slowly drops. While I was swimming, I gradually began to notice that something was wrong. I wasn’t feeling cold at all. It was as if I naturally belonged to the sea.”

“The thought flashed through my mind for only an instant before it disappeared, because at that moment I spotted one of our Beta Star warships. I immediately called for help, and that was how I was rescued.”

At this point, Pan Bu’en let out a long sigh.

Jiang Yue could already guess where the story was heading. It felt as though an invisible hand had seized her heart, and a dull ache spread outward from her chest.

Zhang San lowered his head and viciously ground a piece of ore beneath his foot.

Pan Bu’en flicked away some ash from his cigarette. He smoked in silence for a long time, and gradually, tears began to well up in his eyes.

“After we returned to Beta Star, I was taken away. They drew my blood for testing, collected urine samples, and took samples of my hair, my skin, even my flesh for research.”

“Then they sent me back. They said I was a hero of the Federation, and before long I was promoted from major to lieutenant colonel.”

At that point, Pan Bu’en could no longer continue. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then slowly closed it again. In the end, he shook his head in pain.

Zhang San, sitting nearby, let out a sigh.

“Ah, this is too much for the old man. I’ll fill in the rest.”

Zhang San looked at Jiang Yue and said quietly,

“You studied at a Federal military academy. Many of the instructors there are Perfect Parasites, and all of them were artificially created. Have you ever wondered where that technology came from?”

As he watched Jiang Yue’s expression grow increasingly grim, he let out a cold laugh.

“That’s right. It was built on the lives of countless people.”

“Back then, many people in the military were exiled to garbage planets under various charges and accusations. Want to guess where they ultimately ended up?”

A chill crept into Jiang Yue’s heart.

“But if they wanted to conduct human experiments,” she said, “they could have used ordinary criminals. Why sacrifice so many innocent people?”

Zhang San shook his head.

“A Perfect Parasite can’t be created just from anyone. There are requirements. People whose physical condition isn’t up to standard can’t even survive the first stage of modification.”

Leaning on Chang Geng for support, Jiang Yue slowly slid down the wall and sat on the ground. She pressed a hand to her forehead as that dull ache began spreading from her heart once more.

“Do you still want to hear the rest?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“All right, then I’ll continue. Many people died during the experiments. A small number were successfully transformed into Perfect Parasites, but without exception, none of them ever left the laboratory alive.”

Zhang San shrugged.

“Then Pan Bu’en found out about it. He went to great lengths to get himself assigned to Garbage Star under the pretext of carrying out a mission. Once there, he piloted his mech and destroyed the laboratory.”

Jiang Yue shuddered.

“But by then, the wood has already been made into a boat¹idiom 木已成舟 (mù yǐ chéng zhōu): refers to a situation where something has already been done and cannot be undone or reversed. The outcome is already settled, so there is no point dwelling on what could have been., what had been done could not be undone.”

“Some things were still salvaged,” Zhang San replied. “For example, Old Pan took some things out of the laboratory with him, and he learned some rather extraordinary secrets.”

Jiang Yue asked, “What kind of secrets?”

Zhang San said, “Well, from here on, it’s my story.”

“My dad was a mad scientist who committed every evil imaginable. He fell in love with a handsome and pitiful soldier. That soldier was my father—a female Alpha who had successfully undergone the modification experiments.”

“My father was the most perfect subject the project ever produced. My dad couldn’t bear to destroy her. He had originally planned to run away with her and disappear somewhere far from it all. But my father was a person with a strong sense of justice. She hated the laboratory with every fiber of her being.”

“The people responsible for destroying the laboratory weren’t just Old Pan. My father also played a part in it. After the laboratory was destroyed, she blew herself up. My dad was devastated beyond words, and in the end, he followed her in death.”

This was easily the most heartbreaking story Jiang Yue had ever heard.

She wiped a hand across her face. Their stories seemed to have been written in blood and tears. She simply could not imagine how Zhang San could recount something so heavy with such an easygoing demeanor.

Looking up at him, Jiang Yue asked, “So the reason you paid attention to me from the very beginning was because, like your father, I seem to be one of the most successful Perfect Parasites?”

“Not at all.”

Zhang San shook his head.

“In truth, becoming a Perfect Parasite was never the laboratory’s primary area of research.”

He paused, his expression turning serious.

“They were researching something far more terrifying.”

Jiang Yue had a feeling, an intuition, that the most terrifying thing researched in that laboratory was very likely connected to her.

“What was it?” she asked.

Zhang San pointed at the white veins embedded in the mine wall.

They were deposits of white crystal ore.

Jiang Yue’s expression remained calm as she nodded.

“I guessed as much.”

“The thing that laboratory was researching must have had something to do with the Mutants.”

“That’s right. But where did this Mutant come from? What was the catalyst that caused it to mutate and gradually grow into what it is today? Have you ever thought about those questions?”

Jiang Yue nodded.

“Of course I have. But the knowledge I have access to is extremely limited. No matter how much I speculate, I can’t arrive at any answers.”

Her gray eyes fixed directly on Zhang San. Within them flickered the sharp instinct of a wild beast.

“What? In your theory, does this body of mine have some connection to that Mutant?”

Pan Bu’en had seemed lifeless moments before, but upon hearing Jiang Yue’s words, he immediately raised his head and stared at her.

Zhang San glanced at Pan Bu’en’s astonished expression and clapped his hands with a grin.

“Exactly. When it comes to the field of Perfect Parasite modification, you won’t find anyone in the entire galaxy who understands it better than I do. I swear on my mad-scientist dad and my righteous father: Li Si is absolutely not a Perfect Parasite.”

Jiang Yue—whom he called Li Si—showed no sign of surprise.

There had been a time when she, too, believed she was a Perfect Parasite, and she had even felt a certain degree of pride in it. But the appearance of the two eyeballs had made her gradually realize that this body was far more complicated than that of a mere Perfect Parasite.

The look of shock in Pan Bu’en’s eyes still had not faded. He seemed to have thought of something, and suddenly blurted out:

“Could Li Si’s body be connected to the Samsara Divine Tree?”

Jiang Yue was equally startled.

“The Samsara Divine Tree? What’s that? Zhang San said it isn’t a product of this era. It can’t possibly be something that laboratory created, can it?”

Pan Bu’en grew visibly agitated.

“No, no, child. Garbage Star has its own name, it is called Sacrede. During the Golden Age, Sacrede was the most scientifically advanced place in existence. Back then, in order to defeat the Zerg race, a truly horrifying experiment was carried out there.”

“The details of the experiment were classified at the highest level. No one knows what the experiment actually involved. After it was conducted, a terrible contamination spread across the planet. Humanity on Sacrede was completely wiped out, leaving only intelligent machine life behind.”

“So the Samsara Divine Tree you mentioned was the main subject of that experiment?” Jiang Yue asked.

Zhang San shook his head.

“No. According to the materials my dad left behind, the Samsara Divine Tree was merely a plant that became contaminated as a result of that experiment.”

“This thing never truly dies. Even if it is reduced to ashes, it will be reborn through nirvana. That’s why it is also called the Phoenix Tree.”

Jiang Yue sucked in a sharp breath.

“That’s incredible. If something that powerful was only an accidental byproduct, then what on earth was Sacrede trying to create in the first place?”

Zhang San and Pan Bu’en shook their heads simultaneously.

“No one knows.”

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  idiom 木已成舟 (mù yǐ chéng zhōu): refers to a situation where something has already been done and cannot be undone or reversed. The outcome is already settled, so there is no point dwelling on what could have been.