MASG chapter 1

 

[Hello, I am Nuwa, and it is my honor to serve you. Welcome back, Xia Yu.]

A gentle female voice slowly woke Xia Yu, and the small sleeping capsule lit up with a warm, golden light. Lying on the soft white pillow, Xia Yu yawned and waited for the hatch to open.

The glass hatch offered a glimpse of the people outside. Every time he woke up, Xia Yu was filled with joy. He longed to go out and play and couldn’t wait for his lost limbs and organs to grow back.

As a genetically modified human, Xia Yu had known his identity from a young age. A jellyfish gene had been inserted into his DNA, giving him seemingly powerful but practically useless abilities. For instance, he could make parts of his body transparent, like a jellyfish in the ocean.

Another example… Xia Yu glanced at his left arm and sang: “Puff, puff, little jellyfish, I’m in the depths of the ocean, sinking first and then floating up…”

Nuwa: [Is this your favorite song? I hear you sing it every day.]

Xia Yu nodded quickly. “Yes, it’s the ‘Little Jellyfish Song’ that I composed…”

[It’s beautiful! I’ve saved it to my database so we can sing it together later.]

Before the words finished, the curved glass door opened, signaling that Xia Yu’s body scan was complete, and all indicators were normal. This was his second ability. Limbs removed during experiments could be regrown, much like how a jellyfish cut in half becomes two separate entities with incredible regenerative capacity.

“Thank you, Sister Nuwa. Goodbye.” Eagerly, Xia Yu leaped out of his sleep capsule, his thick hair swirling uncontrollably. Nuwa was the institute’s artificial intelligence and one of Xia Yu’s few friends there. He still wore his light blue surgical gown, which was a poor fit. The collar had slipped down his shoulders, revealing an unsightly cut on his shoulder.

A few hours ago, Xia Yu’s left arm and shoulder were amputated. His recovery was accelerating. It used to take several days to grow an arm, but that timeframe gradually shrank to a day and then to a few hours. He was also naturally insensitive to pain, so he was constantly cut up and used for experiments.

Unfortunately, Xia Yu didn’t see anything wrong. He was born here—or rather, he was a genetically modified human “created” here. Although he was ten years old, Xia Yu had never left this place. He didn’t know what the outside world looked like, he only knew what was inside the research institute.

There were many genetically modified humans like him here. Of course, there were also normal humans, but there were more robots.

“Maintenance is underway ahead. Please be careful,” a robot warned him.

“Thank you.” Xia Yu quickly bowed and scurried off on his bare feet. There were far more robots than humans or genetically modified humans here, at least several thousand. They all looked the same, resembling dark gray skeletons. They were responsible for maintaining the entire research facility. They had oval robotic heads, and their eyes gleamed with rage. When the facility was in danger, their eyes would turn red and they would protect humanity at all costs.

Xia Yu wasn’t sure if he could be considered human, but he hoped so. He could only remember one instance of a robot’s eyes turning red, which had occurred four years ago.

The straight corridors were lined with countless light bulbs and cameras. Xia Yu encountered a robot every few steps, bowed, and then moved on. Under normal circumstances, he might have stopped to chat with these friendly, adorable machines or with Nuwa through their systems. But now, there were clearly more important matters; he needed to check on his good friend.

He walked through the glass corridor, took the elevator, and arrived at the X Series level.

He wasn’t sure if the research institute was above or below ground, but he knew the X Series was on the B4 floor. Xia Yu belonged to the X Series and was essentially useless. No one could tell him what he could do or what his purpose was.

With a swish, the silver metal door in front of him swung open, revealing someone standing in the empty room.

“Professor Wang!” Xia Yu ran over happily. Having always had an unsteady center of gravity, he stumbled and fell. He quickly got up and threw himself into Professor Wang Qin’s lap. Professor Wang was the person he was most familiar with and fond of in the institute—the one who had raised him.

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes yet?” Professor Wang Qin was a thin woman in a white lab coat with her long, half-white hair tucked back and a notebook clutched in her hand.

“I just woke up, and I don’t like wearing shoes. My feet are very nimble.” In Professor Wang’s presence, Xia Yu acted like a child, circling around her. “Have I grown taller? Do you want to hear me sing?”

Professor Wang placed her notebook on the table and knelt down attentively. Although she was only in her middle age, she already had deep crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, and she exuded a faint, almost herbal, aroma. She was cold and aloof with others, but when facing her primary research subject, the X series, Wang Qin’s cold exterior cracked, revealing infinite warmth.

“Yeah, you’ve grown taller—a lot taller!” She coaxed Xia Yu like a child and even gave him the name Xia Yu. In reality, however, Xia Yu’s growth and development had always been slow, and he didn’t absorb nutrients very well. Although he was now ten years old, he looked seven or eight.

But his thinness couldn’t hide the fact that he was a beautiful child. He had a round face with baby fat and small dimples at the corners of his mouth when he smiled. The most striking thing about him were his eyes. They were a very light color, almost white, but they appeared silver when they were polarized like a fish scale. Whenever Wang Qin met his gaze, she felt as if she were looking at a monster from the depths of the ocean. Despite human technology’s advancements, the ocean remained an unexplored abyss.

“Yeah, a lot of people say I’ve grown taller.” Xia Yu believed Wang Qin. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he pulled his collar wider to reveal his undamaged shoulder. “My arm is back, too!”

“Why did they put you under the knife again?” Wang Qin’s brow furrowed. He was clearly unaware of the situation.

“They say I have value.” Xia Yu didn’t understand the concept of “value,” but he was given a delicious, sweet candy every time he was on the operating table. After finishing his treat, he fell asleep and woke up in his sleep capsule.

After hearing this, Wang Qin’s frown deepened. She certainly understood their rhetoric. She had told them that Xia Yu’s development plan could be halted because he was just a small jellyfish. He could heal himself and regenerate severed limbs quickly, but things were different now. In today’s world of artificial organs and body modification, when someone loses a body part, the first option is to use machines to restore “wholeness.”

Humans are fragile, but machines are valuable. This is a global trend.

Xia Yu is just a little jellyfish. Heartbroken, Wang Qin carried him to the desk. She knew all too well how people manipulated children with candy.

“If they ever ask you to have surgery again, you must tell me, okay?” Wang Qin held out his hand, ready to seal the deal.

“But if I don’t have the surgery, I won’t be able to eat any candy.” Xia Yu hesitated. His body didn’t matter to him. He could recover anyway. But once he was gone, he would be gone forever. The candy was so delicious.

“I’ll find a way to get you some candy later. Don’t let them cut you up anymore. Besides, you’re getting older. It’s time to study hard.” Wang Qin pulled a book from the nearby shelf and placed it in Xia Yu’s small hand. “Have you finished reading this?”

“I’ve read all the books here,” Xia Yu nodded. He didn’t enjoy reading, but it was his entertainment. Another amusement of his was listening to the robots communicate in their own “language.”

Tut, tut, tut—like some kind of signal. However, their movements were so subtle that they were hardly noticeable.

Putting down the book, Xia Yu returned his hand to his pocket and found a few crumbs of candy he’d secretly hidden there. The white grains were about the size of grains of sand. He placed them on the back of his hand and licked them carefully.

“This is so delicious…” He savored them as he walked over to his best friend, licking them carefully. However, his best friend had never spoken to him or even exchanged words with him. Xia Yu had assumed this was a one-sided friendship, and he never received a response.

“Hello, I’m Xia Yu. Do you remember me?” Xia Yu finished his candy crumbs. He licked his lips with a hint of satisfaction as he pressed his hands against the glass cover in front of him.

Behind the glass was a giant fish egg preserved in seawater that expanded and contracted like a living heart. Countless dark blue “blood vessels” stretched across its pale blue membrane. These vessels held the membrane tightly in place and occasionally released bubbles of air that clung to the egg’s surface.

Through the translucent membrane, Xia Yu could see the fluid flowing within the egg and the “human” inside.

“Mo An was quiet today, too. He didn’t move at all.” Unnoticed, Wang Qin moved behind Xia Yu. Together, they gazed at the precious, strange egg.

“Mo An… Mo An…” Xia Yu had long known that the creature inside was Mo An, having peeked into Professor Wang’s notebook. According to the notebook, this was a mermaid egg plucked from the deep sea four years ago for experimentation. However, no matter how the adults prodded the egg, it remained unresponsive, as if it contained only a dead fetus.

Everyone knew, though, that the egg was not dead and was growing successfully. In the fresh seawater, the outer layer of the egg membrane thinned, allowing light to pass through and reveal the embryo curled up in its long tail inside. The egg was now a meter long. The mermaid larva’s face was hidden by its arms, and noticeable scales were visible on its elbows.

Whether the hatchling inside is male or female, human or fish, or possesses exceptional abilities is undetectable to humans.

“It’s been here for a long time. I’d say it’s about your age,” said Wang Qin, stroking Xia Yu’s small head. Both mermen and jellyfish are classified as X-class creatures: Xia Yu because his abilities are useless to society and Mo An because they can’t be developed at this time.

“Mermen are ferocious and mysterious creatures. Even now, we know very little about their population. We don’t know how many there are, what they eat, how they reproduce, why they appear, or how deep they range.” Wang Qin looked at the egg as if she were witnessing an even more mysterious creature.

The fish egg bobbed right in front of her, but she couldn’t communicate with the organism inside. “You know Xia Yu? Catching this single egg cost humanity countless amounts of diving equipment and robotic divers. The arrival of this egg officially announced the existence of strange species. Strange species naturally occur in this world. They aren’t genetically or mechanically modified. Like humans, they have the right to be born and survive.”

“Strange species…so profound.” Xia Yu naturally didn’t understand. Most of his information came from Nuwa, the artificial intelligence, who hadn’t yet explained the concepts of “birth” and “survival.”

“You’ll understand when you grow up.” Wang Qin paused, a pang of pain rising in her chest. She worried that those people wouldn’t allow Xia Yu to grow up. In a few years, perhaps the X-series would be obsolete, and Xia Yu would be dismembered and thrown into the genetic garbage dump.

“Then I need to eat lots of candy to grow up faster. When I grow up, I’ll take you to the ocean. Let’s go together.” Completely unaware of his predicament, Xia Yu easily made a promise, having never left this place before. He had no concept of the word “ocean.” He simply wanted to be with Wang Qin to feel less lonely.

“Okay, let’s go together. Maybe there’s a large tribe of yours in the ocean.” Wang Qin squatted down and hugged Xia Yu. As she stood up slowly, the metal door of the X-Series Biology Laboratory quietly opened and a cleaning robot entered with a sharpened screwdriver in hand.

“Hello!” Xia Yu greeted it immediately with a smile. He recognized it—it was the same robot he had seen in the hallway.

The giant egg suspended in the seawater observation tank suddenly contracted. Its profile, which had been buried in its arms, turned outward for the first time. Its pale blue ear fins curled like the wings of a newly emerged butterfly, ready to fully extend. As the robot approached, the egg moved closer to Xia Yu outside the tank as if regaining consciousness for the first time, finally clinging to the glass. Yet, no one noticed.

“Why are you here? There are no repairs reported here right now.” Wang Qin shook her head and looked at the smart surveillance system in the upper left corner. “Nuwa, move the robot out. There’s no repair reported here.”

The camera spun around and focused on her. Meanwhile, Xia Yu continued to rummage through his pockets, hoping to find a few candy crumbs. When he raised his head, he saw a scene he would never forget.

The robot’s eyes turned from blue to red, and a metal spike raised high and stabbed Wang Qin in the back.

Suddenly, alarms blared all around, and the incandescent lights went out instantly. Only the two bright red dots on the robot’s face remained, like bloodshot eyes.