Chapter Forty-One: Suppression

He looked around and realized that everyone was waiting for his command. They were all anxious, seemingly relying on their superior’s sternness to dispel the unease within them.

Wang Qiuhan could not lose composure in front of these subordinates who trusted him.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Report to Chairman Bai immediately. Before he makes a decision, seal the laboratory completely. If necessary, initiate the destruction protocol and burn the entire lab to the ground.”

Once the destruction protocol was activated, the entire laboratory would be scorched at temperatures above 800 degrees Celsius, then scanned and purified by the most advanced systems to ensure no biochemical contamination could escape.

At that moment, Bai Jincheng was reading through all the experiments and data A Dongsa had ever conducted or collected. His face cycled through fascination, shock, and grave seriousness.

Suddenly, Bai Jincheng stopped scrolling through the reports and looked at three or four elderly professors. “I believe you all finally see what this mysterious person has been researching.”

Professor Zhang spoke gravely, “I think he is attempting to fully perfect the central dogma, to master the transformation between genes and traits.”

Professor Li exclaimed, “That’s impossible! Even the most advanced nation in biotech, Aramist, has only just started linking single genes to specific traits. If he truly manages to decipher all the rules of base pair combinations and translation…”

Bai Jincheng pressed, “What would happen?”

“…He would become a god.”

A heavy silence fell. Professor Wang added, “As is well known, whether it’s animals, plants, insects, even bacteria and viruses, they all share the same genetic code. There are minor differences, but the carriers of genetic material are either DNA or RNA, with only a tiny fraction involving proteins. If this mysterious individual truly masters the replication, transcription, translation of genetic information, and even subsequent protein synthesis, modification, and transport, he will have grasped the ultimate secret of life, becoming a being akin to a creator.”

Bai Jincheng was astonished. “Is it really that powerful?”

Professor Li scoffed, “As I’ve said, it’s impossible! The central dogma has been around for over fifty years, but the four bases have at least a trillion possible combinations. Each cell, magnified, is equivalent to ten thousand advanced processing plants. Humanity can barely comprehend it, let alone master its laws.”

Bai Jincheng suddenly interrupted, “What if he isn’t human?”

Professor Li was stunned. “What?”

Professor Wang took a deep breath and spoke earnestly, “Chairman Bai, research into the central dogma is the foundation of all bioengineering. If that person is merely joking, it’s nothing, but if he has truly achieved anything… then everyone involved will either soar to the heavens or be doomed forever.”

Professor Zhang nodded. “To master the central dogma is to have the authority to modify life at will. At its mildest, it means transforming species and creating new life; at its worst, it could mean exterminating entire biospheres with biochemical weapons. Any power would stop at nothing to seize such a terrifying technology. If we’re caught in the middle, we won’t escape unscathed. I recommend reporting this to the government immediately and letting the capital itself handle it.”

But Professor Wang countered, “I disagree. If this falls into the government’s hands, it will trigger a world war. Besides, even if this mysterious person has made progress, I suspect he’s only scratched the surface—it’s not as terrifying as you imagine. As long as we maintain secrecy, we can create endless wealth ourselves. Don’t think your son-in-law at the Academy of Sciences will give you a share!”

“Old Wang, you’re shameless…”

The group exchanged veiled barbs, but Bai Jincheng said, “Enough. This matter is strictly confidential. No one is to speak of it.”

A look of delight flashed across Professor Wang’s face, while Professor Zhang sighed in worry.

Bai Jincheng picked up his phone and issued a command: “Biochemical response squad, move in. Ensure the integrity of experimental data and samples as much as possible without any leaks. If there’s any risk of exposure, initiate the destruction protocol at once!”

———

Wang Qiuhan, upon receiving the order, was agitated but dutifully acknowledged.

He was the first to put on his hazmat suit. “All of you, suit up properly! This is a whole different level from smallpox, plague, or anthrax leaks. I know what you’re thinking—you think some research institute got high and pulled a prank. But let me warn you: if you don’t take this seriously…”

He said quietly, “You may never be taken seriously again.”

The team exchanged uneasy glances, then replied loudly, “Yes!”

The fully armed biocontainment squad assembled at the laboratory door, where everything was eerily silent.

Wang Qiuhan hesitated, then finally keyed in the door code and opened the heavy door.

Inside, the scene was somewhat chaotic—clearly, people had knocked over a lot of things while evacuating—but there was none of the horrific spectacle Wang Qiuhan had feared. Not even the monster they had seen on the surveillance footage was anywhere to be found.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Three members of the containment team entered first, cautiously surveying the area but finding nothing amiss. Just as they turned to signal the rest to follow, their faces suddenly contorted in terror. “Watch out!”

From a dead angle behind the doorframe—a spot the three had initially overlooked—a strange shadow suddenly leapt out.

The door should have been shut immediately, but doing so would mean abandoning their three colleagues. The person responsible for the door hesitated for just a moment, inadvertently triggering the chain of disasters that followed.

As the shadow burst through the door, Wang Qiuhan decisively slammed the emergency button. The blast-resistant door fell with a thunderous crash, severing the shadow cleanly. It was a mass of writhing tentacles, squirming like a malformed deep-sea octopus.

The containment team immediately doused the tentacles with high-concentration disinfectant, the potent neutralizing solution sizzling as it subdued the appendages into stillness.

Wang Qiuhan, his face grim, took out a control panel, entered a series of codes, and pressed confirm.

Flames erupted from acetylene fuel lines embedded within the lab walls, releasing heat capable of melting anything.

Heavier emergency doors dropped from the walls and inside the main door, sealing in temperatures of 800 degrees Celsius. Not even the screams of the three lost team members could be heard.

He was certain whatever monster remained inside had been reduced to ash.

An oppressive silence fell over everyone.

Wang Qiuhan forced back his grief, staring at the bleached tentacles on the floor, still wet from disinfectant, when a new wave of dread washed over him.

“This is bad. Run!”