Chapter Twenty-One: The Origins of Medbyrne

“Still not working?” Zhu Lan’s face was pale as she stared at her laptop, which was currently playing a movie.

“Limitless.”

Zhu Lan had always felt her thoughts lagging behind, so she set her sights on the brain-enhancing drug n-48. Initially, she thought she could materialize n-48 herself, but the result remained unchanged.

021

This puzzled Zhu Lan.

She had tried n-48 a month ago, when her research was outpacing her mind and she wanted to speed things up.

Although Zhu Lan understood the drug’s enormous side effects, for her current situation, n-48 was the best choice. If she had an intelligent computer, the drug would be irrelevant, but Red Queen was too difficult to handle, so Zhu Lan had to find her own way.

The first time she touched n-48, her mental energy was completely depleted.

At first, Zhu Lan thought the energy level of n-48 was simply too high.

The fantasy system’s standards were based on energy; in the era of the Fantasy Galaxy, everything was powered by energy, so the system’s standards were defined around it.

But later, she realized it couldn’t be an energy entity.

N-48 was a drug to unlock brain potential, similar to how a virus unlocks genetic potential. While n-48 seemed more mysterious, it couldn’t possibly involve energy entities.

After several more attempts, Zhu Lan discovered it wasn’t that she couldn’t bring it forth—it was that she hadn’t reached the necessary level.

She noticed that whenever she tried to touch n-48, her mental energy was depleted rapidly—almost instantly at first. Only after she gained more control over her mental energy did she realize this was the issue.

N-48 wasn’t impossible to materialize; her mental energy just hadn’t reached the required threshold.

She wondered why a virus was so simple, yet n-48 was so difficult.

Eventually, Zhu Lan understood: while viruses were terrifying, they operated on the genetic level. The Fantasy Galaxy civilization surely had many ways to treat genetic collapse. N-48, however, directly unlocked the brain, and some component within it must be the limiting factor—the essential ingredient that made n-48 effective at developing brain potential.

“As expected, it’s still not working. What exactly is the danger?” Zhu Lan abandoned her attempt to materialize n-48, took some painkillers to ease her headache, and pondered.

She hadn’t offended anyone—she was certain of that. Her memory wasn’t great, but she was absolutely sure she hadn’t angered anyone to the point of making herself a target.

If that wasn’t possible, only one possibility remained: accident.

She might have gotten caught up in some unforeseen incident, perhaps a gang shootout or something similar.

Considering this, Zhu Lan chose a five-star hotel upon arriving in Germany. It was an international hotel in downtown Berlin, and surely no gangs would be involved.

She tried a few other things, but still got no response.

An intelligent computer was currently out of reach.

These days, Zhu Lan was exploring other options.

N-48 was just one among many.

Others included props from Marvel, such as the Iron Man suit!

Given the density of the suit, she knew she couldn’t materialize it yet. She hoped for the Mark I—the one built in a Middle Eastern cave. Aside from the core, the rest wasn’t too challenging.

After months of practice, Zhu Lan could now materialize a car; surely the Mark I wasn’t more complex than that.

“Still twenty percent short. If I continue at this pace, it’ll take another ten days!” Zhu Lan estimated, based on her latest attempt, that she needed to reach another twenty percent before she could manifest the first-generation Iron Man suit.

The core mattered most—the arc reactor. Energy-wise, though not huge, it was an undeniable energy entity.

Besides the Iron Man suit, she also considered various bio-agents, but still couldn’t materialize them, which left her frustrated.

For months, apart from equipment needed for her bio-lab, Zhu Lan mostly tried to manifest items to help her through crises, but so far, aside from ordinary weapons, most couldn’t be materialized. Even something like the Barrett anti-materiel sniper rifle could only be created once a day, and armored vehicles were beyond her reach.

Apart from the accidental pistol, the basement of Zhu Lan’s Warehouse One now held dozens of different weapons: 4A1 rifles, **, A47s, Renault shotguns, and so on. The storage room beneath Warehouse One was practically a small arsenal.

She knew she was playing with fire, but in order to test the fantasy system’s limits, she had no choice. Of course, she always manifested weapons late at night, ensuring she wouldn’t be discovered.

“Boss, big discovery!”

Someone conducting research was interrupted by the commotion and wasted a batch of materials.

He reluctantly set aside his work and turned around. “Jin Hoer, if you don’t give me a satisfactory answer, you’re out of this month’s bonus!”

Jin Hoer wasn’t fazed by his boss’s threat; his face was alight with excitement. “Boss, you have to see this! Whoever developed this is a genius.”

Medbiel Umins was the head of this research institute, which had been inherited from his father. The institute traced its origins back to the end of World War I, when the Second Reich developed biochemical weapons. Medbiel’s grandfather led the institute back then.

During World War II, the institute was well-known among Germany’s elite; at the time, a fifth of the Third Reich’s biochemical weapons were developed by this code-named 0151 institute.

After the war, the Allies searched for the mysterious 0151 institute, but found nothing. Medbiel had bribed a general to escape the postwar purge.

He kept a low profile until the reunification of East and West Germany, then slowly re-emerged. To avoid detection by other European nations, for over a decade he conducted only simple research. Only in recent years, leveraging old connections, did he begin to undertake government testing projects, eventually becoming one of Germany’s key testing centers.

Umins took Jin Hoer’s data and glanced at it, initially indifferent, but frowned as he read the early results.

Umins had studied at Harvard’s biological research institute, and upon graduation received invitations from several major American biotech firms. In the US, he was well known, internationally considered a leading expert in biology.

The moment he reviewed the test data, Umins realized its significance.

An hour later, Umins personally retested the samples, finding the results identical. He was stunned.

“Who submitted these samples?” Umins asked Jin Hoer.

“Boss, if you want to make a move on it, you'd better forget it—these were submitted by someone from China!”

Umins fell silent. In recent years, cooperation between Germany and China had deepened, whether in politics, business, or even among the populace. In Europe, Germany was China’s closest ally.

“Have you checked?”

Jin Hoer nodded. “I’ve already had someone investigate. This gene drug is registered as ‘Gene Optimization Solution.’ Its effects match our tests. There’s nothing like it on the market—it appears to be a newly developed product.”

Umins nodded. “Implement a level-three lockdown on this immediately!” He took the data and left.

Driving through a forest, he emerged at a castle, worn and ancient, bearing the marks of time.

“Good day, young master!”

“Good day, young master!”

Umins ignored the servants and headed straight for the castle’s depths.

Knock, knock, knock~~

The sound of knocking echoed down the castle’s long corridor.

“Come in!”

“Umins? Why have you returned?”

It was a vast library. Bookshelves extended for dozens of meters, each five meters tall, lining the room. Every shelf was packed with books—at least ten thousand volumes filled the space.

“Father, I’m sorry to disturb your rest.”

Medbiel Renault was Umins’s father, and he held another identity known to only a handful worldwide: after Germany’s defeat, a group unwilling to accept failure formed a secret organization, so secret that even America’s intelligence center, famed for its global reach, knew nothing about it.

“Is something wrong? This isn’t like you, coming home at this hour.” Renault set down his book—his hair white, but though elderly, his spirit remained strong.

Umins nodded. “There’s something I can’t decide alone. I need your advice.” He placed the Gene Optimization Solution report on the desk.

Renault picked it up out of curiosity, and as he read, his expression grew increasingly grave.

A few minutes later, he set the report down and looked up at Umins. “Which company developed this? Britain? France? Or America?”

Umins shook his head. “None of them. It was developed by a Chinese company—here’s their information.”

He handed over another sheet.

“The Chinese military? How is that possible?”

Umins nodded. “That’s precisely why I can’t make a decision. This Gene Optimization Solution is an innovative gene drug. If we could control it, it would bring tremendous benefits to both our family and our research. But the problem is, its background is the Chinese military. Father, as you know, given the relationship between Germany and China in recent years, there’s absolutely no way the government would allow any mishap.”