The Apocalypse Solution Provider

Chapter 33: Same Old Wine in a New Bottle

Sun Ya extended the scalpel, gently prying the heart open.

Earlier, they had only examined the front, completely missing the sharp, horn-like protrusion jutting from the side of the organ.

As the tip of the blade peeled back the muscle, the object concealed behind the heart was instantly exposed to the harsh light.

A bright red, olive-shaped Fleshy Orb.

The two leaned in for a closer look. Su Jin’s heart hammered against his ribs, his pupils pinning to dots. “Is this… a lymph node?”

“Not lymph.” Sun Ya looked up at Su Jin, pale with shock. “There are lymphatic capillaries in myocardial tissue, but even severe pathology wouldn’t cause a mutation like this, let alone in this exact position. This thing doesn’t belong in a human body… Is your heart racing? Do you suddenly feel starving?”

“Yes.” Su Jin nodded, a tremor running through his jaw as he met the old doctor’s gaze. “You… you feel it too?”

“What the hell is this? The craving… it’s getting stronger.” Su Jin’s features contorted.

Hunger!

The moment they laid eyes on the full Fleshy Orb, a primal, ravenous urge clawed at their insides. The thing radiated a magnetic pull, screaming at their primitive brains to devour it raw!

Even sitting amidst a pile of rotting, foul-smelling viscera, the impulse was nearly impossible to fight.

Fortunately, both men possessed ironclad willpower, keeping their higher cognitive functions intact.

Sun Ya drew a slow breath, his eyes locked onto the Fleshy Orb as he muttered to himself: “Under extreme starvation, the brain rewires its perception of taste. Viscera—high-calorie but rancid—becomes the body’s top priority. Repulsive garbage transforms into a delicacy. Pure nutrition takes the wheel.”

“Old Sun, what the hell are you muttering about? Are you losing it?!” Su Jin hurriedly grabbed the old doctor’s shoulder and gave him a hard shake.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Sun Ya shook his head slowly, deep in thought. “I’m just wondering… is this parasite actively tempting us, or are our bodies instinctively craving it?”

“Makes sense. I feel like swallowing it would give me some kind of miraculous power.”

“Would you drop the comic book logic? You’re a grown man, why are you acting like a child?!”

With a sharp exhale, Sun Ya brought the blade down, severing the Fleshy Orb.

He dropped it onto the steel tray, preparing to slice it open.

Su Jin caught his wrist to stop him. “Wait, let me do the honors… I’m wearing thicker gear. If this thing bursts with highly corrosive acid, we’re screwed.”

Sun Ya nodded, stepping back to yield the table to Su Jin.

“Cut it, but be careful.”

The surgical steel pressed against the Fleshy Orb.

Upon contact, the texture was completely wrong—it was like carving into a dense rubber tire.

It felt as if applying any more brute force would cause whatever was pressurized inside to violently gush out.

Su Jin adjusted his grip, angling the tip to pierce straight down.

It popped like thick pigskin… then he followed through with a downward diagonal slice.

A strand of connective tissue clung to the bottom of the Fleshy Orb, leaving it partially attached.

The ravenous hunger surging in both their guts violently multiplied, simulating the gnawing agony of a week-long fast!

Jaw clenched, Su Jin dug his thumbs into the slit and wrenched the Fleshy Orb open.

Sun Ya’s pupils dilated in response; the prize resting inside instantly hijacked both of their gazes.

Logically, slicing the exterior should have cleaved the core right down the middle.

But reality defied physics. Peeling back the meaty membrane felt more like shucking a lychee.

Resting perfectly intact in the center was an orb of crystal-clear liquid. Not a single scratch from the blade marred its surface. It was so transparent it was almost invisible to the naked eye.

Sun Ya studied it, forcefully suppressing his visceral unease, before glancing up at Su Jin. “It looks like a pocket of water… Your vision isn’t normal anymore. Do you see anything special?”

“Water? To me, it’s glowing. Iridescent. It looks beautiful, like high-tier loot.” Su Jin’s nerves were pulled taut.

While he couldn’t see the plain liquid Sun Ya described, the core of the Fleshy Orb shimmered with a prismatic halo that swirled endlessly to his eyes.

It was a stark contrast to the oppressive gray mist, radiating pure aesthetic beauty, utterly devoid of any ominous undertones.

“Dump it into this tray.” Sun Ya tapped the sterile metal tray he had prepared on the table.

Su Jin nodded.

The moment he tipped his hands, everything went to hell!

The jelly-like water orb rolled onto his index finger, sliding down to the webbing of his thumb. The iridescent light inside phased straight through his thick tactical glove and vanished.

The water orb dispersed into the webbing of his skin, evaporating into nothingness.

“What just happened!?”

The sudden vanishing act made the hairs on the back of Sun Ya’s neck stand on end.

A cold sweat broke out over Su Jin as he stared blankly at the doctor: “I think… I think my body just drank it…”

The second the words left his mouth, a violent surge of boiling heat rocketed straight to his skull. His ears rang with a deafening buzz, the world slammed into black, and he slumped into unconsciousness. As he spiraled into the dark, he could faintly hear Sun Ya’s frantic screaming.

“Xiao Li! Xiao Li!!”

….

“Is the Director going to wake up? The sun’s already up.”

“He’s burning up with a fever. Keep your hands off him; it’ll be a massive headache if he mutates into a Zombie.”

“Clinical observation says it’s not an infection… Look at his rapid eye movement. Zombies probably don’t dream.”

“He’s waking up, he’s awake! Fu Hu, safety off your gun!”

In the suffocating darkness, Su Jin dragged his eyelids open against the blurry, unfocused light.

He tried to stretch, only to find heavy ropes biting into his wrists and ankles.

It took another two agonizing minutes for the fog in his brain to clear. He shook his heavy head, his voice cracking like sandpaper: “What’s the status…”

“He can still speak, he’s okay!” Fu Qingdai’s pale, gloomy face suddenly lit up with profound relief.

Sun Ya crouched down, using a wooden ruler to carefully poke Su Jin in the cheek. “Xiao Li… you still with us?”

“Water… pour me a goddamn drink, cough!”

Hearing this, Fu Qingdai scrambled to the kitchen for a glass. Just as she leaned in to help him drink, Sun Ya violently yanked her back!

“Are you suicidal?! Use a long spoon. Keep your distance.”

“Heh… heheh…”

A collective chill swept through the room at the sound of Su Jin’s dark, raspy laughter.

Sun Ya’s face hardened: “What’s so funny?!”

“They say an old man on the team is an asset… I appreciate the tight risk management.”

“You little bastard! You still have the energy to crack jokes?! You nearly gave us all a collective heart attack!” Sun Ya cursed, snatching a long-handled spoon to carefully tip water into Su Jin’s mouth. “Do you remember what went down?”

Gulping down the lukewarm water, Su Jin cleared his throat: “I remember my body absorbing that liquid orb. After that, I was trapped in a fever dream. Felt like I had a rogue air compressor venting chaotically inside my veins.”

Sun Ya jotted down the symptoms on a clipboard, fired off a quick volley of neurological questions, peeled back Su Jin’s eyelids to check his dilation, and finally allowed his shoulders to drop.

“Cognitive functions are normal, seems like there’s no problem. Should we cut you loose?”

Su Jin shook his head: “Negative. Standard quarantine protocol, observe a bit longer. Something’s structurally wrong with me right now… I feel completely weightless, like I could float right out of this chair.”

“If your brain isn’t rotting, the rest is just side effects… Cut him loose, we’ll run field tests!” Sun Ya ordered decisively.

Ignoring Fu Hu’s panicked objections, Fu Qingdai darted forward and quickly sawed through the heavy knots binding Su Jin.

“Brother, are you sure you’re okay?” Fu Qingdai asked, hovering anxiously.

Su Jin gave her hand a reassuring pat and hauled himself to his feet beneath the room’s terrified gaze.

The second he locked his knees, that bizarre anti-gravity sensation skyrocketed.

Su Jin locked eyes with the far wall. A dangerously stupid, yet highly pragmatic idea flashed in his mind!

“Nobody panic. My physics are currently glitching. Stand back for a live demonstration!”

Without waiting for clearance, he bolted straight at the drywall, his combat boots slamming against the vertical surface as he vaulted upward in three rapid strides.

He twisted his torso, shifted his center of mass, and literally sprinted along the wall, his entire body pitched parallel to the living room floor!

He maintained the impossible sprint right up until the corner of the room, where—under the jaw-dropped stares of his crew—gravity brutally reasserted itself, sending him crashing face-first into the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.