2117, April.
Late at night.
Zhao Ling sat up topless from the operating table.
Her long hair fell over her chest from the left side of her neck, and she was wrapped in a dical skirt with hollowed-out sides.
On her muscular back was a frightening seam, the suture line sliding from the middle upper back down to the tailbone.
The surgery had just ended, and a black waste fluid mixed with crimson blood seeped from the wound, slowly trickling down the flesh seam.
Several dical staff approached to clean the stains on Zhao Ling’s back, draped a hospital gown over her, and injected a painkiller.
Her forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and her eye color had changed; no longer aqua green but a murky tea color.
"Emperor," the professor stood opposite the lab’s isolated window speaking through a loudspeaker.
"Has the Black dicine mixed in my spine?" Zhao Ling asked solemnly.
"The surgery was very successful; now your spine carries four types of Black dicine, although the procedure was extrely dangerous," the professor said.
"Four types? Why can’t I feel them?" Zhao Ling asked.
As she spoke, Zhao Ling began to sense the changes within her body; her pupils emitted a murky dark light, and her sclera gradually turned black. The smooth skin on her shoulders was the first to be covered with a patch of black scales, and then, more scales appeared, spreading from her shoulders over her back and arms.
But at her chest, white fur grew from under the skin forming a mane similar to that of a lion below her neck, extending down to her navel. At this mont, her outer thighs also began to gelatinize, slowly turning green, much like so amphibious cold-blooded creature.
Zhao Ling’s cheeks suddenly puffed out; she turned her head towards the surrounding nurses, opened her mouth, and a long black tongue mixed with foul-slling saliva spat out abruptly, the light yellow foul saliva dripping to the floor making a sizzling sound like sulfur, with the black tongue hanging down to the ground.
Zhao Ling jumped down from the operating table, her right arm trembling, she pinched her right wrist, watching as her nails slowly turned black, her finger joints shifting from two to four, making cracking sounds, forming into a Bone Knife.
A hissing noise ca from the back of her head.
A nurse yelled, panic-stricken, dropping the calming injector, and turned to flee, while the other nurses also stepped back.
At that mont, a massive snake’s head passed over Zhao Ling’s head.
Her long hair gathered and floated up, forming the shape of a black snake’s head, also flickering its tongue.
Zhao Ling slurped, retracting her tongue back into her mouth, and turned to look at the window.
"The surgery was very successful, professor, how should I reward you?" Zhao Ling smiled.
She reached out to stroke the snake’s head as if petting a pet.
The professor was initially speechless and after a long thought, rely said, "Not at all."
"Why not? You are more enlightened than Professor Li Xianping. Since I’ve already mastered the techniques of the Lingxian Sect, why can’t I finish what they didn’t? This Black dicine fusion technique, combined with my body nourished by Wei Tianyang... Now, I can also bear this mighty force..." she laughed.
Zhao Ling’s voice had changed; an indistinct sound mixed within, forming an echo that sounded particularly chilling.
"Emperor... I think, you are powerful enough... there’s no need for the next stage of the surgery," the professor said.
Zhao Ling frowned, looking at the professor with disdain and annoyance in her eyes.
"Powerful enough? How is that enough?" she asked.
"Your spinal cord... has a limited carrying capacity. Judging by the data, I think it has reached a very dangerous level... Moreover, the Black dicine in your body has undergone so kind of transformation... Your partial DNA and HNA have both changed, and I believe... this is a form of... disease..." the professor said.
"This is evolution," Zhao Ling shook her head and said.
"Emperor... Your body is already showing so... rejection reactions..." the professor said.
"How do you explain Wei Tianyang?" Zhao Ling asked with a smile.
"He... he is different..." the professor replied hesitantly.
Suddenly, Zhao Ling teleported to the front of the window, placing her dark, barbed palm against it. Yellow acid corroded the glass, creating a large swath of scars.
"The now, IS him!" Zhao Ling said fiercely.
The professor, frightened, took a few steps back and fell to the ground, speechless.
Zhao Ling turned around and walked to the experint table, staring at her own hands and muttering to herself:
"Wei Tianyang... now I... am just like you... Even without you... I can still... I can still continue to be this king!"
She withdrew her superpower, and her body returned to normal.
The nurses, hiding in the corner, curled up with their heads in their arms, not daring to make a sound.
"Fear , yes, fear , for power is the reason to beco king!" she declared.
At that mont, Professor Li Xianping received a phone call at ho.
"I need ti to consider."
He still declined politely.
The caller was a mber of a foundation dedicated to researching safer thods of utilizing Heavenly Falling Objects. Currently, they were recruiting experts from around the world to attend a technical sharing and vision presentation banquet in the Sethiyan Federation.
The current global situation was turbulent; the Sethiyan Federation and Yin Country were engaged in a fierce trade war, and the Emperor had beco more autocratic than ever, with constant displeasure echoing from the cabinet.
He had also repeatedly denied Zhao Ling’s requests. The Emperor had completely lost his mind; she wanted to beco the second Wei Tianyang. No matter the odds, she firmly believed she could achieve this and had utilized the legacy of the Lingxian Sect.
And this banquet invitation might just be a trap.
Now, with Black dicine and the antidote leaked and widespread, superpower users frequently appeared in dostic conflicts around the world. Wars had completely changed; they had turned into superpower wars since three years ago, with the number of natural disasters continually rising, occurring predominantly in third-world countries.
It was all too clear what was happening.
"We sincerely look forward to your arrival. All accommodation and travel expenses will be covered by our foundation. Many top scientists like you will be there, and you will definitely enjoy it," the person persisted convincingly.
Li Xianping hung up the phone.
After so thought, he rembered his disciple, Lin Yan.
Though she was only in her twenties, she had already achieved substantial success in her field. This ambitious girl, having studied abroad for many years, had returned with a disdain for the political environnt and academic atmosphere of Yin Country.
Chances were, she had also received a call and, knowing her temperant, would likely have agreed imdiately.
Li Xianping hurriedly tried to call Lin Yan, only to find that she was out of the service area.
That night, on an air flight.
Lin Yan had already packed her luggage, preparing for a week-long trip to the Sethiyan Federation.
To avoid any implications, she left her regular phone in Yin Country, bought a new phone, obtained a new international number, and arranged for an overseas paynt card.
"The Human Cradle Plan Foundation sounds much better than the dical academy of Yin Country," she thought as she reclined in the VIP cabin’s soft chair, holding the invitation letter and drifting into reverie.
The technology of the Lingxian Sect had opened her eyes, but in Yin Country, such technology was only to serve the Emperor.
It was dangerous and full of challenges; technology should benefit everyone.
She looked out the window, the silvery plane breaking through the dark clouds and flying towards a new dawn.
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