Before Shu's eyes were several cubicle-style laboratories, viewed through glass.
No, rather than laboratories, these more closely resembled standard medical treatment cubicles. Aside from some equipment in the corners that would only be found in a lab, all the instruments were for medical use.
This medical equipment looked very expensive; each machine was the type of precision instrument that burned through money just by being turned on—things Shu associated only with the wealthy and powerful.
But who was lying on them now?
It was a "human stick", three of its four limbs completely severed, the remaining one amputated at the joint.
Aside from deducing the person's young age from the size of their torso, Shu could barely make out anything else.
Even when he squinted his eyes into slits, he could only see a blurry mass of red.
If it weren't for the irregular heartbeat still flickering on the nearby electrocardiogram, Shu would have genuinely suspected they were dissecting a corpse.
Four or five experimenters in white coats, surgical caps, and rubber gloves were gathered around the central medical bed, working intensely on the child whose body was almost entirely mangled.
Even after more than three months in this apocalyptic world, this was the first time Shu had witnessed such a bloody scene.
The bodies of the Honkai zombies, though decayed, didn't bleed. Even when Shu had been up close with the dual-wielding zombies in Canghai (Sapphire) City, he hadn't felt this level of discomfort.
Those things, at most, shed a few drops when their eyes were pierced. Not like this child, who periodically spurted jets of blood onto the surrounding people.
But there were others present even more agitated than Shu. An old scholar, whose face had been sprayed with blood, trembled, then suddenly turned and ran to a corner, grabbing a transparent bag and vomiting into it.
A young experimenter hurried past, caught sight of the old man with the sick bag, and quickly called over another young person. They then hastily helped the old man out of the cubicle.
Everyone was rushed. The young scholar monitoring the ECG had bloodshot eyes. Away from the operating table, everyone moved in a silent, quick jog, afraid of causing delays or disturbances.
Shu pressed his face against the window. Just then, Joyce tapped his shoulder, signaling him to look where she was pointing.
Shu followed her finger and saw a tray held by a young person beside the lead surgeon.
On it were six or seven thumb-sized metal fragments, arranged like stars around a moon—a larger metal piece about the size of a baby's fist.
The largest fragment had a slight curve, looking as if it had been forcibly torn from some round or cylindrical object...
"That's Kendagua. Its official name is Kendal Type 6 Mortar Fragmentation Projectile, a barrel-less mortar shell developed in the Americas in the year... [year unclear]. It was added to the list of jointly banned weapons after testing," Joyce helpfully explained to Shu.
"Why would a banned weapon be here?" Shu turned back, and Joyce could see his eyes were bloodshot.
"Banned doesn't mean out of production. Just like nuclear weapons in the past, and neutron weapons, fusion weapons, and celestial weapons now, an international ban on use doesn't mean everyone stops producing them."
"Don't worry," Joyce reached out and patted Shu's shoulder. "Although the situation is dangerous, the skill level of these personnel is not bad. That old man who left had his Underground Holy Hand title revoked only 20 years ago."
"With these people here, that child can survive."
Shu took two deep breaths, clutching his chest as he stepped back.
"Are you feeling unwell?" Joyce noticed Shu's state wasn't right.
Shu shook his head, his breathing heavy. "No, I'm fine... Let's go to the next cubicle."
Numbness, itching, and intense pain coexisted within his body now, making him extremely uncomfortable.
But this wasn't the time to stop because of this pain. There was more than just one cubicle here...
In the second cubicle were seven or eight children whose skin was a purplish-red. Some sat a daze in a corner, others were curled up motionless on operating beds.
Two more were in another corner of the cubicle, being examined by several people in thick protective suits.
Those people, dressed like astronauts, were clumsily injecting the children with a blood-red liquid.
Shu couldn't help but look at Joyce, waiting for her explanation.
"[Blood Agate]—an extremely terrifying, potent poison. Stored at sub-zero temperatures, it's a pale red liquid with a slightly fishy odor. At room temperature, it rapidly evaporates into a gas. Upon entering the human body, it destroys the genetic structure..."
"It appeared in the world in 2001. It's a poison with no known cure to this day. And its creator..." Joyce looked at Shu, "was Vakh Cioara."
Shu froze. Joyce, however, looked at the children whose skin was as red as cooked shrimp and continued her explanation.
"Future City also conducted research on [Blood Agate]. The final conclusion was—it's not exactly a poison. On the contrary, it's a supplement the human body has never encountered before. Its mechanism of action is..."
"Is evolution... unlocking the genetic lock, right?" Shu felt his mouth go dry.
Joyce nodded. "This is Siberia. The temperature is extremely low. So here, organisms first adapt to the low temperatures. I speculate that the temperature regulation systems in these children's bodies have malfunctioned..."
As she spoke, she pointed through the glass at several thermometers hanging on the wall for Shu.
[7:00 AM—8:00 AM Body Temperature: 41.2°C]
The numbers on the other thermometers weren't much different, the largest variation being only about one degree.
"Then they..." Shu couldn't help but look at Joyce.
Since Joyce had said [Blood Agate] was a "poison" with no cure to this day, the fate of these children infected with [Blood Agate] in 2006 was self-evident...
"Regrettably, they cannot survive... Even the only method I can think of is to cryogenically freeze these children and wait until an antidote is truly developed."
"And the method for creating the antidote..."
"According to our experiments, the antidote for [Blood Agate] should be a specific genetic fragment. Because [Blood Agate] only unlocks a small segment of the genetic code, if we can use a standard... I mean, an antidote standard... if we can fill this gap, it can be resolved."
"And the genetic fragment needed for the antidote... we speculate it's Vakh's own."