Chapter Eleven: The (Fake) Genetic Potion

"You little monkey, why are you suddenly thinking of the old lady?" Qin Min walked in from outside, smiling.

"Teacher, I came back just to see you, and look at me now..." Zhu Lan joked playfully.

Qin Min shook her head. "Come off it! You haven't been back since you graduated. You must have some business now!" She walked to her seat and looked at Zhu Lan, as if to say, 'Let's see what you have to say.'

Zhu Lan offered a bitter smile. In university, although he wasn't the top student, he was among Qin Min's favorites. Much of what he knew was taught by her; she was like both teacher and mother to him.

Qin Min had two sons, both studying abroad. The elder was at Harvard majoring in space physics, the younger at Cambridge studying mathematics. Her husband was said to be a provincial official, but nobody knew exactly who.

Zhu Lan sat down and picked up his file bag. "I've actually come to trouble you this time, teacher."

"Oh, I knew it!" Qin Min looked at Zhu Lan helplessly.

He took out a document and handed it to her. "Teacher, these are the results of my research over the past few years, but..." He trailed off.

Qin Min's curiosity was piqued. She took the document, flipping through it absentmindedly.

The more she read, the deeper her frown became, occasionally glancing at Zhu Lan.

He grew anxious. Gene serums had been researched since the last century, always a major focus for nations. More importantly, their aim was to create super soldiers. With the threat of nuclear weapons, large-scale wars were unlikely; small conflicts tested not only weapon performance but the soldiers who wielded them.

In recent years, American superhero movies had raked in profits worldwide, making every country more aware of the power of super soldiers. Though the films exaggerated, every nation had a clear idea what level super soldiers might attain.

Qin Min stopped reading, put the file down, and rested her hand atop it, staring at Zhu Lan.

"Who else knows about this?"

He shook his head. "I'm trained in this field, so I understand its importance. Over the years, I've researched at night. Besides you, no third person knows about this project yet."

Qin Min inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief.

What Zhu Lan showed her was a simple set of gene serum experimental data.

He hadn't chosen the gene serum of a superhero, but drew from the strengthening agent carried by soldiers in "Starship Troopers." Combining that with his own knowledge, he developed the current gene serum.

"Starship Troopers," a film from the nineties, was set in a future galactic era, telling the story of humans encountering the insect race. Because of filming constraints, the weapons weren't advanced, but one point stood out: starships.

That alone proved their era far surpassed the present.

Originally, Zhu Lan just wanted to examine a set of future combat gear, but to his surprise, he found stimulants similar to those carried by modern soldiers. More surprisingly, these stimulants weren't temporary, but permanent, though the consequences were painful. They could directly unlock genetic potential, granting temporary enhancements.

Each use activated the genes. After the effect wore off, Zhu Lan found in experiments that the subjects' physical strength increased by ten percent.

This discovery led him to use the stimulant as a blueprint to develop a gene serum that could make people stronger.

However, his abilities were limited, and equipment and materials insufficient, so the experiments weren't successful.

Yet, they hadn't failed either—he managed to increase the efficacy somewhat, resulting in the data now before Qin Min.

Nowadays, most stimulants magnify nerves to dull pain; some do stimulate genes, but genetics is a vast project. Even America spent decades merely mapping the genome, and finding genes that could be enhanced, along with compatible serums or triggers, is another colossal endeavor.

Theoretically, it would take fifty years before humanity could master this technology.

Of course, there are always surprises...

Qin Min fell silent, lost in thought.

Zhu Lan grew increasingly uneasy.

After an indeterminate time, she finally spoke. "What are you thinking?"

Hearing that, Zhu Lan felt inexplicably relieved. This gene serum, derived from genetic stimulants, could temporarily increase a person's speed, strength, and muscle density by three to five times. If it weren't temporary, he wouldn't dare bring it forward, but even so, it was astonishing.

"This experiment isn't perfected yet. The serum acts only temporarily, and I found that after use, the genes can collapse, albeit rarely. If that happens, the person dies."

Qin Min nodded. The warning and data were present in Zhu Lan's document.

She was an expert in this field, and could tell that the data was incomplete—an important part had been deliberately extracted, but it didn't prevent her from understanding the serum's nature.

"Over these years, I've hit a bottleneck. I can't continue alone. I need funding and more people to help perfect this research."

Zhu Lan stated his purpose directly, playing the role of a scientist.

Qin Min's status mattered, but what Zhu Lan valued more was the university's backing. He needed his alma mater to complete the first step, so he wouldn't encounter unwanted obstacles.

If the materials were swallowed by someone, he wouldn't be upset; he could produce as much of this (pseudo) gene serum as he wished. If pushed, he could simply whip up the gene serum from "Captain America."

Qin Min frowned—money? Before, if anyone mentioned that word in front of her, she would have thrown them out without a second thought.

But now, she clearly understood what these materials represented.

China lagged behind the world in many areas, especially militarily. Qin Min had grown up with the backdrop of national weakness, unable to realize her ambitions. She knew better than anyone that, even if Zhu Lan's serum was only temporary, its effects could boost the military threefold. In some aspects, it could help China escape its predicament.

Zhu Lan waited for his teacher's answer. Money wasn't his true motive. Though he was poor, he had no real attachment to wealth. If needed, any artifact from "National Treasure" would fetch at least a billion dollars for a tenth of it; altogether, the value would be in the hundreds of billions. The antique market shouldn't be underestimated.

More importantly, the artifacts in "National Treasure" were mostly Western, brought to the Americas by Europeans in the Age of Exploration. Each item was top-tier even in Europe at the time, let alone now—any piece could start at tens of millions, and the least valuable was probably the gold bricks used to build the tomb.

"Zhu Lan, you must understand, this matter is already impossible..." Qin Min hadn't finished before Zhu Lan raised his hand to stop her.

"Teacher, I understand. But you know the situation here better than I do. Even if I hand over the complete data, you know what the result will be—it'll sit in an archive forever, until other countries develop it, and only then will the authorities realize its importance and restart the project. By then, what's the difference from last century's China?" Zhu Lan grew agitated.

Qin Min was silent. Although the country had advocated for civilian scientific advancement in recent years, once it became a national matter, most projects would be suppressed, left to gather dust in archives.

It was pure vanity—imagine a national researcher failing where a civilian succeeded. Over time, would it be thought that state researchers were unnecessary?

Don't underestimate this concept—even if the odds are one in a billion, some would kill it in the cradle.

China wasn't strong in many things, but internal strife was unmatched by any country or civilization.

Zhu Lan's scenario was unlikely, but if it happened, China would lose a chance to lead the world. Qin Min couldn't let that happen, but once things rose to higher authorities, she was helpless. Her background was good, but at that level, there were many far more powerful.

"I understand. What do you want?"

Seeing her teacher respond this way, Zhu Lan relaxed. Choosing his teacher as a bridge to the military was his first step. Three years in university had taught him she wasn't like the old stubborn types who always put the nation above everything.

"I need to show this to some people. I need greater support, bank loans, recruitment of researchers, and help with company development when facing local government obstruction."

"Alright, go home for now. Leave these materials here. In a few days, I'll give you an answer. Stay in the city for now and leave your phone number—I'll contact you if anything comes up."

Zhu Lan smiled. "Thank you, teacher!" He had expected a discussion, but hadn't anticipated her immediate agreement.

What Zhu Lan needed now was military backing to face possible local government obstacles. Once his company was cloaked in military status, even the provincial government wouldn't dare make trouble, unless they lost their minds.

Choosing the military as a shield was entirely because of the virus.