Chapter 235
Chapter 235: A Massive Super-Virus Outbreak—Panic Everywhere
Chong Ming’s voice dropped. “How long has the living dead virus 2.0 been in Zhen Lin Empire? And which planets did it reach?”
Zhong Li He sounded like he was talking while sprinting. “According to Kong Que, it’s been in Zhen Lin for twenty years. It was shipped to Capital Planet, Nan Bei Star, and Blazing Star.”
The words landed like a hammer.
“The amount smuggled in is far beyond what you and I imagine. If a large-scale outbreak happens, it will absolutely surpass the catastrophe Da Xi suffered two thousand years ago.”
“I’ve already notified Da Xi’s healers and researchers. I’ve also put the space stations and patrol fleets near Nan Bei Star and Blazing Star on standby. If you need anything, say the word. I can deploy at any moment.”
Chong Ming answered heavily, “Understood. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Zhong Li He said.
Chong Ming agreed once more and ended the call.
He paused for only a breath, then tapped his lightbrain and started issuing orders—mobilizing troops, deploying medical teams, assigning rescue fleets. His voice echoed through the lab, calm and precise, as if he were carving commands into steel.
No one in the lab dared breathe too loudly. Everyone stood frozen in place, faces pale.
Every researcher had to study Da Xi Nation’s outbreak before being cleared for the field. Eight million dead. Infection faster than wildfire. A taboo history everyone was forced to remember, because forgetting it meant repeating it.
While Chong Ming worked, Cheng Lin Yue quietly opened her lightbrain, pulled up the archived records, and showed them to Jiang Tea Tea—photos, videos, and data from the catastrophe two thousand years ago.
Jiang Tea Tea watched in silence.
Then she looked up.
Chong Ming was still issuing commands, steady and composed—as if even if a planet exploded in front of him, his expression wouldn’t change.
Sui Xuan Chu and the other six stared at their idol like they’d forgotten how to blink. Watching him shift the empire’s machinery with a few quiet sentences made their admiration almost spill out of them.
When Chong Ming issued his last order, he turned back to Jiang Tea Tea and met her eyes. He hesitated, then asked, “You said you recognized zombies. Where did you see them?”
She’d seen them.
She’d fought them.
She’d killed them.
But it had been long ago—long enough that if she hadn’t seen them again, she might never have remembered.
The problem was… how did she explain it?
If she claimed she’d wandered into some secret realm and dealt with them during cultivation, wouldn’t that expose the truth—that she wasn’t the real Jiang Tea Tea?
If he investigated and she was exposed—if she failed the contract with the fake heiress—she could be imprisoned. And with cubs in her belly, that meant only one road.
Death.
Jiang Tea Tea hesitated. “Um… I saw them… maybe in movies? Or in fiction? Let me think.”
Chong Ming’s eyes were deep, but his tone stayed even. “Fine. Take your time. No rush.”
Jiang Tea Tea pointed at the sealed room. “Can I go inside and take a closer look at the two living dead?”
Maybe these weren’t the same as what she’d encountered before. She needed to be sure.
Chong Ming nodded. “Yes. Get her protective gear. Take her in.”
Jiang Tea Tea wanted to say she didn’t need it. She’d already wrapped herself in layers of magic power protection—especially around her abdomen.
But if she went in without gear, she’d stand out too much.
She put on the suit and entered with a researcher.
The moment she stepped inside—despite the sealed suit and oxygen circulation—the two living dead began struggling harder, snarling louder, as if her presence enraged them.
Their flesh was rotten. Bound to the tables, they tore at their restraints. Each violent jerk sent clumps of blackened flesh and bloody sludge sliding off onto the floor.
Even with the filtration system running at full power, the stench quickly filled the room.
A researcher warned, “Miss Jiang. They’re enraged. Stay back. Don’t go closer.”
How was she supposed to inspect them from across the room?
Jiang Tea Tea waved it off.
The researcher glanced at Chong Ming for confirmation through the viewing window.
Chong Ming nodded once.
The researcher didn’t stop her again.
Jiang Tea Tea walked up to the tables.
“Hrgh… hrgh…”
Their tongues had rotted away. They could only make wet, choking sounds. Their eyes were gone, but somehow they still tracked her perfectly, twisting their heads toward her like she was a beacon.
The protective suit was in the way.
So, to the horror of everyone watching, Jiang Tea Tea unsealed it and stepped right up.
She pressed both palms to their foreheads.
The two raging living dead froze instantly, like startled quail.
Two or three minutes passed.
Jiang Tea Tea withdrew her hands. Not a smear of rot or slime clung to her skin.
The two living dead lay still, as if dead.
Only when Jiang Tea Tea exited the room and the door sealed shut did they snap back into violent struggling again.
Outside, Chong Ming handed her a disinfecting wipe. “Did you find anything?”
Jiang Tea Tea wiped her hands as she spoke. “I saw their memories. They volunteered to be test subjects for money.”
“The lab told them it was the final stage of testing before a state-approved drug went to market. One thousand star credits a day. Forty-five days total.”
“They thought they’d walk out rich.”
She lifted her gaze, her expression sharpening. “Instead, they were used for ability-awakening experiments. Living dead virus 2.0.”
“The researchers believed the virus could make a person immune to pain and give them endless strength. They wanted to optimize it. If someone could withstand it, they might awaken a new kind of ability.”
“They lured people with money. Beastfolk. Pure humans. They lied to them and got them to ‘volunteer.'”
She took a breath. “From those two memories alone, there were at least thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of test subjects. Not one lab. Multiple labs.”
“And on Capital Planet, besides the labs linked to Yellow Dragon Clan and Li Ao, the former director of the Ability Institute, there are more labs we still haven’t found.”
Chong Ming’s face went sharp and cold. “Understood. I’ll initiate a full-planet scan.”
Jiang Tea Tea paused, then said, “I want to see Chong Xing Qi.”
Chong Ming frowned slightly. “Why? What did you notice?”
Jiang Tea Tea nodded. “In their memories, I saw a flash of a young, handsome Yellow Dragon Clan member in a lab coat. He looked like Chong Xing Qi… but not quite.”
“I need to see him face-to-face. I may need to look into his memory to confirm.”
Chong Ming nodded. “Fine. I’ll arrange it.”
His “arrange it” meant arrest Chong Xing Qi.
But Chong Xing Qi never made it to the Military Department.
Before he arrived, Capital Planet’s far southern edge—remote Ni Su Town—erupted into a mass infection event.
Infected beastfolk and pure humans first lost strength in their limbs. Then their skin ulcerated and began to ooze.
Medical pods did nothing.
Medicine did nothing.
Ni Su Town had seventy thousand permanent residents. In just three days, thousands were infected. Both treatment centers collapsed under the load.
The news, suppressed until it couldn’t be contained, exploded onto Starnet—photos, videos, and a town that looked like hell itself.
Within moments it spread, surging up the trending charts and seizing the attention of the entire M31 Star System.
“This is terrifying. People eating people in a high-tech era—what the hell?”
“Zhen Lin Empire brags about the best medicine in the M31 Star System. They’ve got the only 3S-rank mutant plant healer. Don’t chicken out—get in there!”
Insect clan trolls rejoiced, openly fantasizing about conquering Zhen Lin once the virus spread planet by planet. Zhen Lin netizens exploded back, cursing them, swearing they’d rather blow their own planets to ash than hand them over.
The thread spun, as Starnet threads always did, into other gossip—like the insect clan’s General Atuya rumored to be ending her engagement with their Eldest Prince.
Then someone yanked it back. “Stop derailing. This is a super-virus outbreak.”
Others argued over the only possible solution if it truly matched Da Xi’s catastrophe: kill.
“I’m in Ni Su Town,” one person wrote. “If it can’t be contained and my family becomes infected, we agree to be shot and burned. We won’t become monsters that infect more people.”
More voices echoed it—fearful, grim, and heartbreakingly resolute.
When Ni Su Town’s infection trended, the main official media department panicked. They tried to suppress it—dropping the topic, disabling comments, blocking reposts.
The trending tag fell faster and faster.
It was about to disappear completely—almost triggering a backlash across the M31 Star System—when the suppression snapped.
Everything came back.
Zhen Lin Empire’s mainstream official media halted all programming—news, dramas, entertainment, everything—and switched into emergency broadcast mode.
A live feed began.
Chong Ming faced the camera in a crisp uniform. His gold eyes were steady, his voice low and controlled.
“Hello. I am Chong Ming. A super-viral outbreak has occurred in Ni Su Town on Capital Planet.”
“I apologize. I learned of this major public health emergency only twenty minutes ago. This is my failure.”
“Now: the military has deployed troops, military doctors, and emergency rescue ships.”
“To all uninfected citizens in Ni Su Town: prepare immediately. Pack light essentials. Keep your lightbrains active. Rescue teams and the Information Bureau will use your lightbrain location to conduct a full evacuation and transfer you to quarantine.”
“To those with infected family: the nation will do everything possible to treat them.”
“And this rescue mission will include 3S-rank mutant plant-type healer Jiang Tea Tea and the Imperial Crown Prince.”