Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Difficulty of Advancement

Second-stage genetic protoform? Ji Cheng’s heart leapt with joy when he heard this; he’d been wondering whom to ask about it, and now, as if a pillow were handed to a sleepy man, the answer had arrived.

“Brother Zhou, go on, I’m listening,” Ji Cheng said, brimming with interest.

“Hah, you’ve only just become an ability user and you’re already itching to be a councilor?” Huang Long couldn’t help but remark, seeing Ji Cheng’s excitement.

Ji Cheng laughed it off. “Just trying to improve myself, you know.”

After unlocking the genetic lock, one could directly inject a second-stage genetic protoform, but the success rate depended on the assimilation degree of the first-stage protoform. The lower the assimilation, the higher the chance of rejection. But for someone like Ji Cheng, a full assimilator, there were no such worries; he could simply go ahead. Besides, he had killed Councilor Yao’s son. Seeing Yao’s deathly expression earlier, Ji Cheng suspected ill intent, which was another reason he was eager to advance.

“But it’s not easy to acquire a second-stage genetic protoform now, really not easy,” Zhou Ze sighed, shaking his head.

The seriousness in his tone startled Ji Cheng. “What’s going on?” he pressed.

Zhou Ze gave a bitter smile, took the computer from in front of Huang Long, tapped a few keys, and turned it toward Ji Cheng. “Baishan Star has been out of contact with the Empire for years. While we have a huge stockpile of first-stage protoforms and can even produce some ourselves, so there’s no risk of running out, there’s never been much inventory of second-stage protoforms in ordinary colony stars like ours. After decades of use, they’ve almost all been consumed.”

Ji Cheng was taken aback. So becoming a second-stage ability user was much more difficult than he’d thought.

Zhou Ze continued, “Originally, following Deputy Director Liu’s suggestion, I wanted to have Chairman Zhang request a batch for you, but it turns out that Nankang New City doesn’t have a single dose left.”

“Thank you, Brother Zhou. So what should I do if I want to obtain a second-stage genetic protoform now?” Ji Cheng thanked Zhou Ze, even though he hadn’t managed to secure one for him.

“The only place left where second-stage protoforms might still be found is in those laboratories left behind by the Empire,” Zhou Ze pointed at the computer, motioning Ji Cheng to look.

“Since they’re Imperial remnants, even though most of their defensive systems have failed or shut down, they’re still extremely dangerous. The risk in those labs is at least as high as in the mining zones, if not higher. To ability users, they’re almost like death traps.”

A brief dossier appeared on the screen, which Ji Cheng quickly browsed, his brows furrowing deeper. The laboratory closest to Nankang City-State, and confirmed to contain several second-stage protoform injectors, was called Hive.

The records showed that Hive was an underground lab, and since its discovery, its entrance’s automated defenses had remained operational, making frontal entry impossible. However, over a decade ago, a group of surveyors working in a nearby mine stumbled upon a ventilation shaft belonging to Hive.

Who could have known that, after Nankang City sent over twenty ability users inside, they were mercilessly slaughtered by the lab’s defense systems? Only one lucky ability user survived, thanks to a researcher’s ID card found inside, and managed to escape, bringing back four doses of second-stage protoform.

Despite the heavy losses, these four protoforms allowed Nankang City to gain two more councilor-level powerhouses, since two injections failed but two succeeded. This helped Nankang regain its footing, and in the following years, they kept sending ability users in, relying on that ID card.

“To date, Nankang City-State has found over forty such ID cards and acquired at least twelve doses of second-stage protoform from Hive,” Huang Long chimed in.

“The city’s rise is inseparable from the discovery of that ventilation shaft in Hive. All of us old-timers got our second-stage protoforms there.”

“Twelve doses in over a decade?” Huang Long sounded proud, but Ji Cheng’s eyelid twitched at the low number.

“The main issue is the risk,” Huang Long sighed. “Even with an ID card, it’s easy to trigger alarms by accident. When Hive’s defense system activates, no matter what stage of ability user you are, you’re killed on the spot, without exception.”

“Over time, fewer councilor-level powerhouses were willing to take the risk. Second-stage protoforms are useless to them anyway, and losing a councilor would seriously weaken the city-state.”

“But first-stage ability users are too weak, their search efficiency is low, and most easily-found protoforms have already been collected. The harvests have dwindled with each expedition.”

Ji Cheng suddenly asked, “When was the last Hive exploration?”

“Three years ago. Nine first-stage ability users went in, four and a half came out.”

Ji Cheng was about to ask why four and a half, when he suddenly remembered that among the six ability users Councilor Yao had brought earlier, one had a mechanical body from the waist down. He swallowed his question.

“Moreover, they didn’t find a single dose of second-stage protoform,” Zhou Ze said bitterly.

“We realized then that Hive likely had nothing left to offer. The ID cards were sealed away.”

After hearing all this, Ji Cheng was left feeling nothing but frustrated. He hadn’t expected second-stage protoforms to be so scarce on Baishan Star; a city as vast as Nankang New City, with hundreds of millions of people, couldn’t produce a single dose. And now Hive, the only place that might still hold some, was all but off-limits.

Surely there must be a way to advance?

Just as Ji Cheng was feeling dejected, he remembered Zhou Ze had mentioned a mission related to second-stage protoforms, and hope flickered within him.

“So, Brother Zhou, what’s the mission?”

“This time, after Chairman Zhang returned, he made a decision,” Zhou Ze shook his head, clearly dissatisfied with the decision.

“The chairman plans to take more than half of the forty-some ID cards owned by Nankang City-State and distribute them freely to other city-states.”

“Freely?”

“Yes. Then, together with other city-states, launch one final exploration and development campaign in Hive.”

Ji Cheng was surprised by Zhou Ze’s disapproval; he actually thought Chairman Zhang’s decision was bold and commendable.

He pondered aloud, “From Nankang’s perspective, this is good, isn’t it? It spreads the risk. If everyone goes in, and something happens, the losses are shared, weakening other city-states too. Besides, Nankang has explored Hive so many times; surely we’re more familiar with it than the others? It just seems like there’s nothing to lose…”

To Ji Cheng, reopening Hive was definitely the right move. Since Hive had yielded many second-stage protoforms before, searching there was better than blindly fumbling about. More importantly, to unlock greater development potential, he couldn’t just inject any protoform at random.

Among the second-stage protoforms with strong future potential, Wildcat was compatible with quite a few—this was its advantage.

But in reality, there were only about a dozen types. If he only found one or two subpar protoforms, he’d rather wait than ruin his prospects. He needed at least three to five options.

“…Anyway, I think reopening Hive is a good thing.”

Huang Long and Zhou Ze both smiled wryly at his words.

“But you haven’t considered that our greatest crisis has never been other city-states, but those aberrant beasts, and Baishan Star’s harsh environment.”

“Weakening other city-states is not a good thing.”