138: Chapter 58 Another Group of Heroes 138: Chapter 58 Another Group of Heroes Since learning that he was suffering from regenerative abnormal growth, this mysterious Old Senior had been sowhat absent-minded.
Cui Hai found this particularly strange.
—Could it be that the Senior suddenly realized he was getting old and thus lost his enthusiasm?
The Senior had recently switched to a voice pack that sounded very young, apparently not willing to accept his age.
Such people, upon realizing they had been fighting for so many years, might indeed develop such a mindset, right?
As a good young man, Cui Hai felt he should really promote the virtue of respecting the elderly and said, “Senior, are you worried about your illness?
My junior sister in the Sect is in charge of researching dical records published online.
This disease is not a serious one.
Even though it might hinder the performance of Martial Arts in the mid-stage of the disease, it wouldn’t cause major problems in the short term.
If you could leave this place, with your dical skills, it would be quite easy to remove those proliferated parts.”
However, he purposefully found a topic to keep the Old Senior from dwelling on the fact that “he was getting old.”
But Xiang Shan sighed again.
It seed that his ti was indeed limited.
He had acquired this spine less than a month ago, and already there were abnormal growths in the nervous system.
If this continued, he would likely experience symptoms affecting his Martial Arts performance within ten days.
Xiang Shan was indeed contemplating severing his diet to curb the growth rate of the neural cells.
The greatest advantage of being a Benchmark Man was that they could rely on electrical energy to replace the energy produced by breathing.
Only a little water and very few organic substances were needed to maintain tabolism for a long ti.
But tissue proliferation definitely required raw materials.
As long as he stopped eating, he could naturally curb the rate of cell growth.
But the problem was that he could not currently determine the exact chanism of this growth.
If in this genetic trait, “repair” took priority over “maintaining brain structure,” then this foolish physiological function might break down his own brain to grow those damned nerves without any nutrient intake.
Yes, under natural conditions, humans would not encounter such ridiculous situations.
After all, human genetic information has been refined over hundreds of millions of years and stabilized in the past million years.
Although it is built on a “pile of crap,” it certainly does not have malignant bugs.
Stable operation can still be ensured.
The gene therapy that transford Homo sapiens into Benchmark n essentially involved using viruses and enzys to introduce new genetic information into this segnt of genetic information and then gradually replace the cells originally belonging to Homo sapiens—this was akin to expanding the original genetic information of Homo sapiens.
In programr speak, expanding on a pile of crap is like going deeper into the pile and then taking another big dump—whether it causes an avalanche is known only to heaven.
According to Xiang Shan’s mory, this gene therapy was initially applied to yeast.
Then it moved on to nematodes, fruit flies.
Each step involved assembling a massive team of scholars, and the experintal animals written off alone were enough to sustain a large enterprise.
The next step was the Clawed Toad.
It was not until the death rate on the Clawed Toad dropped to one-third that it was applied to mice.
The first batch of mice had a mortality rate as high as one hundred percent.
Years later, once the therapy was confird not to cause direct death in mice, it was further applied to Ganges Monkeys.
These steps might sound like brute-force trial and error, but back then, the research institute established by Xiang Shan consistently produced Nobel Prize nominees.
And the secrets of life were continuously deciphered.
But even so…
The Beta Version of the therapy could indeed have various “unpredictable benign bugs.”
“Your cells thinking to break down your brain to repair your body” might sound awful, but compared to “being poisoned to death by your own neurotransmitters,” it is a relatively benign bug.
This is also the reason the final version of gene therapy strictly limited the amount of genetic information transferred.
Of course, these matters, are not worth ntioning to outsiders.
Xiang Shan could only vaguely brush past this topic.
Seeing that the Old Senior indeed did not seem interested in conversation, Cui Hai could only heave a slight sigh.
As a young person like him, it was indeed difficult to make these old seniors let go of their concerns with just words.
The two continued forward.
Soon, Cui Hai found a new mark on a wall.
This mark blended almost seamlessly with the crack in the wall.
If soone unfamiliar with this mark saw it, they would think it was naturally ford.
But for those who knew the aning of the symbol, this “crack” stood out significantly compared to a natural one.
“The distance from here is still seven hundred ters,” Cui Hai said.
Xiang Shan carefully observed the crack, even though he could scarcely make out traces of human interference.
But to him, this symbol appeared like a chinese character composed of hundreds of strokes at first glance.
Only those who recognize it can understand its aning.
“The terrain of the Arctic Ocean changes frequently, and the ocean lies beneath the ice, making it difficult to search.
Therefore, so Sects set up hard-to-move items there,” Cui Hai said.
“Although it cannot compete with the diverse ecology of Africa where a Group of Heroes gather, it is still considered diverse.
So Sects have their own special symbol systems for communication.
At the sa ti, many small Sects form alliances, and so Heroes also form private circles.
These circles use different symbol systems, so even the governnt cannot possibly exhaust these codes.”
Xiang Shan nodded slightly.
Cui Hai didn’t specify which circle’s symbol system it was.
Xiang Shan didn’t ask either.
The two continued walking for a while.
Xiang Shan looked at the ground and said, “Huh?
This place seems to be the turf of those gangs…”
This section of the route had beco much tidier.
Apart from the main roads, which were funded and maintained by the Lord, all other roads were spontaneously constructed by residents.
Theoretically, anyone could erect buildings or pave roads on the ground at will.
However, if your construction was suspected of obstructing others’ escape, then there was a risk of violating Dyson’s principles.
The governnt had no obligation to provide any public services or construct public infrastructure.
Everything depended solely on the residents’ willingness.
So signal stations were just conveniently set up by the governnt for easier managent.
This was not a system, but a personal choice of local officials.
Of course, in theory, “voluntary by residents” was not such an absurd thing.
There were plenty of free non-weapon blueprints available online, and civilian-grade 3D printers were easy to find.
If one were determined, theoretically, a person could indeed maintain a decent standard of living.
But that was just “theoretically.”
In reality, many people could never save enough for the parts of a civilian 3D printer in their lifetis, let alone possess the expertise to assemble them.
Even if the governnt implanted education chips in everyone during their childhood, not everyone could utilize that complex knowledge.
So, in a sense, it was the gangs that ended up providing these public services.
They would set up base stations—since enhancing base stations was akin to enhancing governnt surveillance capability, the Protectors tacitly approved or even encouraged this line of business.
Everyone who joined their base stations contributed their residual computing resources while accepting governnt surveillance.
The gangs then leveraged this technology to mine blockchains and generate digital currency using cloud computing.
This process wasn’t even done covertly; it was explicitly stated in the user access agreent of the base stations.
This was the gangs’ main source of livelihood.
Beyond that, they also recycled corpses, cleaned up trash, and even dug sewers.
Of course, to enjoy these services, one had to pay the gangs.
The decision of “whether or not to use” these services was not entirely voluntary, and pricing wasn’t so reasonable.
If you were unwilling to use them, you had no choice but to leave the area controlled by the gangs.
Of course, restricted by Dyson’s principles, the gangs didn’t kill.
However, continually hindering soone’s work or slowly accumulating minor injuries on a person’s prosthetic body could suffice to fatally corner soone.
This kind of behavior just skirted the line of Dyson’s principles.
If there were no adequate records to prove this was deliberately driving a person dead, whether the Protectors intervened depended entirely on their mood.
There were also residents in the city who could not tolerate these services.
They would hire Martial Artists to forge settlents in the wilderness, setting up their own set of rules.
And when the population of a settlent reached a certain threshold, they could apply for the Lord’s protection.
Indeed, living in the wilderness, they would encounter the Green Forest.
But for many, there was no difference between the Green Forest and the gangs.
Xiang Shan hacked into several nearby caras and indeed found several people sweeping trash.
Like the station owner before, their modification rate was very low.
They were typically coerced into working by gang violence.
As long as the normal minimal remuneration was given, this behavior still just skirted Dyson’s principles.
These individuals knew very limited information.
But Xiang Shan quickly found several different hacking traces within the cara systems.
“It looks like the non-governntal forces monitoring this place aren’t just one.
Interesting,” he said.
Xiang Shan patted Cui Hai on the shoulder, then turned and walked in another direction.
He would keep a distance of one hundred ters from Cui Hai to ensure that both of them would not be wiped out in one go.
At this distance, even if soone suddenly turned hostile, Xiang Shan was confident he could save Cui Hai’s life.
After all, Xiang Shan didn’t dislike the Firearms Path; he just wasn’t fond of it.
Cui Hai silently ditated on the Arctic Ice Mountain to stabilize his spirits, then headed towards the small shack as well.
The tin shack looked like an abandoned warehouse.
Its ability to block several frequency bands of electromagnetic surveillance made it quite an excellent building material.
Cui Hai found a smudge that looked like a speck of dirt under a window.
The remaining signal was hidden within the smudge.
Cui Hai decoded the ssage, and then the speaker emitted a burst of ultrasonic signal.
Monts later, the door creaked open.
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