Chapter 93-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World

Chapter 93 Exploration

"Fifteen million?!"

Zhu Ning was sure something was wrong with either her eyes or her ears. The bill Song Zhizhang handed her made her question whether she even recognized the number.

She had been sitting at the dining table thinking about Lao Yang and Liu Sheng. A memory of the garbage dump had just surfaced in her mind—a garbage dump as tall as a mountain. Zhu Ning struggled to reach her hand upward. Someone grabbed it. She had been found by two scavengers.

Lao Yang and Liu Sheng were probably the ones who raised her in this world, and also the ones who saved her.

The Zhu Ning in the memory was younger—only about seven or eight, still in a child's form. Did this memory belong to the original owner or to Zhu Ning herself? Zhu Ning might have crossed over long ago and simply lost part of her memories.

She couldn't figure it out. Zhu Ning shook her head. Her origins were even more complicated than she'd imagined. Finding Liu Sheng might help her learn more about her past. But both Lao Yang and Liu Sheng were Defectives with naturally short lifespans, living in a garbage dump. After all this time, she didn't know if they were still alive.

If they were Defectives, they were most likely already dead.

If they were still alive, where would she even look? Finding two nobodies in a sea of people was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Zhu Ning was lost in thought and didn't notice Song Zhizhang push open the door and walk in.

Then this shop manager handed her a paper bill. The bill was extraordinarily long—toilet paper wasn't even this long. It draped from the tabletop and piled up at her feet, meticulously listing everything Zhu Ning had destroyed.

Zhu Ning scrolled all the way to the last page before seeing the number. Fifteen million NewCred. She instantly forgot all about Lao Yang and Liu Sheng, replaced entirely by shock.

What a scam!

Song Zhizhang sat across from her with his chin propped up, wearing a gentle smile. "Miss Zhu, you smashed an entire wall of my wine collection. All customers tonight got comped. Then there's compensation for soothing the rich ladies' emotional distress, shop renovation costs, and so on. This price is very fair."

The bill was actually written very clearly, itemized line by line. This was a Host Club that exclusively served wealthy women. The wine cabinet held expensive vintage bottles, some stored there by the wealthy patrons themselves—wines that could no longer be purchased. Even some of the crystal glasses were worth a small fortune.

Including today's revenue for the Dignified Queen—all on Zhu Ning's tab.

Zhu Ning: "..."

Fine. Ever since entering the Wasteland, she'd been constantly having her sense of money shattered. She had originally taken the job at the sanitation company just to pay off her two-thousand-NewCred monthly rent. Looking back, she'd been so humble and unassuming.

Ding— Fifteen million NewCred was deducted from her Sub-Brain. Zhu Ning's little nest egg was in critical condition, nearly half of it already gone.

Zhu Ning paid without even feeling the sting, because it was an online transaction. Spending money felt like not spending money at all.

At this rate, with her financial management skills, she'd burn through her fortune in no time and be broke again.

After paying, Zhu Ning opened another NutriStim. The dining table was now covered in empty NutriStim bottles. She sipped on one, her gaze falling on Song Zhizhang's jaw—the finger marks on both sides were still clearly visible.

Song Zhizhang had been busy today. After putting Lin Xiaofeng to bed, he'd gone upstairs to handle the aftermath. Now, having just finished tallying his losses, he'd come straight to collect Zhu Ning's debt.

He had returned to his usual self. His entire demeanor was relaxed, like a sly little fox always scheming.

Zhu Ning asked, "Is your jaw okay?"

Song Zhizhang touched it. "It's fine."

He wasn't actually that delicate.

Probably from all the neck-rubbing earlier, when Song Zhizhang moved, Zhu Ning caught a glimpse of skin peeking out from beneath his turtleneck sweater. Just a small patch, but Zhu Ning saw it.

Song Zhizhang's skin was very pale, marked with scattered scars that stood out starkly by contrast. They looked like burn scars.

Was that why Song Zhizhang wore turtlenecks? With today's technology, scar removal was very advanced—barely leaving any trace. Zhu Ning herself just wasn't interested in scar removal, which was why she'd kept hers.

So why did Song Zhizhang keep his? Was he keeping the scars as a memento? Or were they impossible to remove? Or was the scarring an unhealing wound—was Song Zhizhang already gravely injured and not long for this world?

Song Zhizhang's movement lasted only an instant before the turtleneck covered his neck again, tight and concealing. Zhu Ning thought about it but didn't ask. It was Song Zhizhang's private matter. If he didn't bring it up, he didn't want to talk about it.

Compared to that, Zhu Ning was more interested in the stud earring on his earlobe.

"Why do you serve Prometheus?" Zhu Ning asked. She was a bit curious about Song Zhizhang's perspective.

Song Zhizhang smiled slightly and corrected her. "I don't serve him. I just help him out."

There was a distinction. Song Zhizhang wasn't truly Prometheus's subordinate. He had always been free.

Zhu Ning asked, "Then why do you help him?"

Song Zhizhang looked deeply into Zhu Ning's eyes. "Because he painted me a picture of a very beautiful world."

A very beautiful world without Contaminants.

A world where nobody would collapse into a Source of Contamination, where no Ability Users would mutate and lose their minds. If things could truly be as Prometheus described, he was willing to help.

Huh?

Building a beautiful new homeland together?

Prometheus and the System were both experts at painting grand visions. The pie was big and round and looked wonderful—as long as Zhu Ning wasn't the one being baked into it, even better.

Song Zhizhang sensed Zhu Ning's mood and asked, "You don't like him?"

Zhu Ning: "Nobody would, right?"

Like a riddler who never showed his face, predicting your fate, controlling your life. Even during Zhu Ning's rare direct encounters with Prometheus, none had left a good impression.

Song Zhizhang acknowledged this without arguing. It was perfectly normal for humans to feel aversion toward artificial intelligence—after all, they were completely different beings. Especially one that could take over a person's body.

Some speculated that Prometheus was a Contaminant. If Prometheus had truly been contaminated, then it was a fusion of Contaminant and machine.

Song Zhizhang: "But you're becoming like him."

Zhu Ning frowned. Whether she had evolved or mutated, the blue data streams flowing in her pupils made it clear that her body was an artificial construct—like a high-speed computer.

Were Zhu Ning and Prometheus the same kind?

The thought sent chills down her spine. Could Prometheus be another one of Eternal Pharma's experimental subjects? Did it even have a body?

Song Zhizhang asked, "Have you explored your abilities?"

Although Zhu Ning hadn't said what she'd just been through, and Song Zhizhang hadn't pried, this place had nearly formed a Contamination Zone—with starting contamination levels at A-class.

Zhu Ning, like Song Zhizhang and Lin Xiaofeng, had experienced a mental collapse and then regained her sanity.

However much energy they generated during that process would become the foundation of their abilities going forward.

What was Zhu Ning's ability?

Zhu Ning's brow lowered. She felt a data network form before her eyes, like the grid lines of photo-editing software—a vast net of data that instantly blanketed the entire room.

Song Zhizhang before her was segmented by data blocks. After data bars scrolled through her eyes, living beings in the room were automatically locked on. The living room's sofa, coffee table, and bar counter were all instantly outlined—very much like playing a first-person shooter.

If she wanted to have a gunfight here, she wouldn't need to deliberately aim. She could kill an enemy in an instant.

Her brain had constructed a data palace, with memories categorized and meticulously organized inside.

When Zhu Ning had been thinking earlier, she clearly felt her processing speed had increased. The moment she contemplated something, diagrams would form in her mind—extremely intuitive.

She suspected she now had an innate ability for eidetic memory. When storage space was sufficient, everything she saw would be stored in her mind.

Her brain was essentially a real computer. If her processing power was sufficient, could she make big data predictions? Just like Prometheus?

"Some people's ability development goes in the direction of transcendence," Song Zhizhang said. "Some people at this stage become infinitely close to a computer—eidetic memory, stored recollections."

Although abilities these days came in all varieties, some could be reverse-engineered from similar cases.

Song Zhizhang: "You could try getting in touch with mechanical body modification. You don't have to actually mechanize yourself—just open a port on your body and interface with their chips. Your body should be able to connect to different chips and gain different abilities."

Zhu Ning's base form was essentially like a smart terminal, capable of upgrading both software and hardware.

Zhu Ning frowned. Song Zhizhang's expression as he said this was perfectly casual. He probably didn't know Zhu Ning was an experimental subject.

Or maybe he did know and simply didn't care. The locals here had a much higher tolerance for this kind of thing. They'd seen too many human species. Synthetics were everywhere. None of this would surprise them.

But she could interface with other chips? That would be an entirely new world for her.

Moreover, today's anomaly hadn't been written into the System—it wasn't on the Interface. This proved it was fundamentally her base ability, only just activated. It didn't even count as a talent.

This was an ability she inherently possessed, like how ordinary people could eat and walk. But she still had difficulty accepting that she wasn't made of flesh and blood.

Song Zhizhang asked, "What about those black things?"

He had seen black slime surging across Zhu Ning's body earlier, like another organism taking up residence.

Zhu Ning didn't feel the need to hide anything from Song Zhizhang. He already knew what he needed to know. What he didn't know, he'd probably figure out on his own eventually. No point in keeping secrets.

Zhu Ning: "Inside my body."

Song Zhizhang frowned at this. "Inside your body?"

"Mm," Zhu Ning tried to describe it. "Probably in my flesh."

Every bone, every crevice, every cell. They had long since merged with her completely.

Zhu Ning truly felt it now—she was a fusion of mechanical data and biology. The data streams in her eyes represented technology. The Xenomorph on her body represented the biological component. Zhu Ning's sanity was what maintained the balance.

Zhu Ning: "I have to suppress it. I suspect it's a Xenomorph."

Xenomorph? Song Zhizhang knew about Xenomorphs, but weren't those only found outside the walls? Had Zhu Ning encountered one on her last outing? That would mean District 103's contamination had already reached levels approaching the environment outside the walls.

And Xenomorphs could coexist with humans?

Zhu Ning's situation had far exceeded Song Zhizhang's understanding. He'd never seen anyone like her. Then again, he'd never seen anyone like Lin Xiaofeng before either. What kind of organism was Lin Xiaofeng, exactly?

This world was evolving faster than Song Zhizhang had thought. The patterns humanity had mapped out no longer applied to current phenomena.

The most cutting-edge evolved humans were breaking yesterday's rules every single day. They carried infinite possibilities.

Zhu Ning carried infinite possibilities.

Song Zhizhang tried to organize the current information. "You're very different. You're very much like... a fusion of Contaminant and machine."

He said this very carefully. Mechanical and Contaminant had subtly merged within her, and the fusion was remarkably perfect—not a fraction too much, not a fraction too little.

The mechanical and Contaminant components had to remain in balance, or Zhu Ning's body would fall apart. Yet she showed absolutely no signs of that.

Especially after this experience, Zhu Ning had become even stronger. In other words, she was standing at a new starting point.

Her future was beyond anything Song Zhizhang could imagine.

At this thought, Song Zhizhang lowered his eyes. He could already foresee that Zhu Ning's path would take her further and further away. Not just District 103—she might venture beyond the walls. The Dignified Queen was merely a temporary harbor for her. This place couldn't keep her.

Song Zhizhang had long eyelashes. When lowered, they were like feathered fans, concealing his emotions. Zhu Ning sensed he had suddenly become melancholic. "Am I dying or something?"

Song Zhizhang blinked and looked up at Zhu Ning very seriously. "No. Your future will be bright. You're the most perfect fusion I've ever seen."

Zhu Ning yawned. Song Zhizhang sounded like a fortune teller. He sat across from her like some mysterious guru who, after a round of calculations, declared: You'll be just fine.

Zhu Ning said indifferently, "My lifespan isn't long anyway."

Song Zhizhang froze. It was the first time he'd heard Zhu Ning bring up her own lifespan.

Zhu Ning continued, "Defective. Won't live much longer."

Zhu Ning had been through the Federal Sanitation Center's physical examination twice. Both times, the relevant data was the same—her organs had only about one year of lifespan remaining. She didn't know if things had improved, but given how aggressively she was being hunted, she'd probably be dead before her body gave out naturally.

Song Zhizhang was like a stargazer who had just discovered the most brilliant star. Most people hadn't noticed her yet—only Song Zhizhang had seen her. Before he could even gaze up at her in admiration, he learned this star would soon fall.

Zhu Ning: "Why does everyone make that face? I still have a year."

Song Zhizhang couldn't understand why Zhu Ning was so optimistic. But Zhu Ning genuinely didn't think it was that bad. It wasn't that she was blindly positive or foolishly cheerful.

It was probably from seeing all the miserable things in the Wasteland, plus reading what Gao Yingcheng had written in his notebook.

The end is nigh. We are all ants.

Honestly, if the end came, this Wasteland's lifespan probably wouldn't even outlast Zhu Ning's.

Zhu Ning: "It's a toss-up whether I or the world gets destroyed first."

Song Zhizhang: "..."

Well... that was a pragmatic way to look at it.

But it made sense. Half the people in this world thought the same way. The world could collapse at any moment, so some people seized the day and enjoyed life, others numbed themselves with Black Dream. People had already given up on striving.

Song Zhizhang: "You probably count as a sixth-class citizen now."

Zhu Ning asked, "What's the criteria for sixth-class citizenship?"

Song Zhizhang was stumped by the question. So-called sixth-class citizens were those with special abilities. The classification existed to distinguish them from the other five citizen tiers. It was an officially registered identity that also required registering one's abilities for unified management and to prevent public panic.

But if you didn't register with the authorities, the citizen class was meaningless.

Zhu Ning had completely stopped caring. Don't categorize yourself. Don't confine yourself to the boxes the authorities drew for you.

Zhu Ning: "Thank you for helping me."

Zhu Ning meant it. Song Zhizhang was gentler and more reliable than she'd expected. He could clean up any mess. Even though he was close to Prometheus, and helping Zhu Ning might just be following Prometheus's orders.

But Zhu Ning was grateful all the same.

Song Zhizhang was taken aback by this. Zhu Ning really was... the kind of person who made you want to be close to her.

Song Zhizhang stopped thinking about Zhu Ning's lifespan and asked, "What did you do after you regained your sanity?"

He had been busy for a long time. When he came back, Zhu Ning was already sitting cross-legged at the dining table, deep in thought. She seemed to need no rest at all, just thinking by herself.

Although Zhu Ning was fairly close with Song Zhizhang, some secrets couldn't be shared. "Hard to say."

Song Zhizhang paused, then smiled. That phrase again.

Previously, Song Zhizhang had asked Zhu Ning what she was doing at the Hao Zailai Hotpot Restaurant. Zhu Ning had answered "hard to say." Later, Zhu Ning asked him if he knew about Eternal Pharma. Song Zhizhang had answered "hard to say."

Now the phrase appeared for the third time.

Song Zhizhang switched questions. "Did you find any useful leads?"

Zhu Ning thought of Lynx's response and found it quite interesting. Lynx had said: [I'll come find you.]

As Zhu Ning had said before, she had many leads in hand—like a pile of loose threads scattered before her. She'd decided to follow whichever one showed promise.

Now one thread had moved. Zhu Ning didn't need to do anything. She just had to wait in place, like bait in a trap, patiently waiting for the prey to come to her.

Of course, in the process, she needed to make sure the prey didn't kill her first.

Thinking of this, Zhu Ning's mood improved considerably. "Found one."

Song Zhizhang could sense Zhu Ning's emotions. The oppressive, despairing atmosphere had completely dissipated from the room. Zhu Ning's current state was remarkably composed, as if she could face any challenge.

She had already been through the worst and learned the most unacceptable truth. From here on, things could only get better—never worse than yesterday.

"Good luck," Song Zhizhang said to Zhu Ning.

---

Author's Note

Ningning is going on the offensive!

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