Chapter 17: Probability — Lin Xiuzhu’s First Reaction Was Disbelief

Lin Xiuzhu’s first reaction was disbelief.

“Even setting aside its length, Changling Mountain is over a hundred kilometers wide. If mutations only happen near meteorites, then how did I end up like this?”

Faced with Lin Xiuzhu’s challenge, Wei Fengtang explained patiently, “Every creature near a meteorite impact site has the potential to mutate. If you ate one of those creatures, there was a certain probability of contamination and mutation… especially if it was eaten raw.”

Thinking back on how the octopus he’d eaten had apparently been freshly caught from the sea and air-freighted to Liyang alive—still kicking when it was served—Lin Xiuzhu opened his mouth, then shut it again, deflated.

He could guarantee no meteorite had fallen within ten kilometers of Liyang City, but out at sea? That was anyone’s guess.

Su Ze raised a question of his own. “Did every impact site produce mutations?”

He remembered the Ursa Minor meteor shower had lasted a full week. Most of the meteorites had burned up in the atmosphere, but plenty had still reached the ground—at least a thousand worldwide by even a conservative count. If every single one had triggered a mutation event, the world would have descended into chaos long ago.

Wei Fengtang looked approving. “Correct. Not every impact site produces a mutation event, but wherever a mutation event occurs, a meteorite must have fallen nearby—at least, that’s what the information in our hands shows.”

Even so, Wei Fengtang appended that qualifier, since Hua State could hardly represent the entire world. But given the sheer size of Hua State’s territory, even if the conclusion wasn’t absolutely correct, it still carried real reference value.

“In that case, why not look for meteorites that are easier to find, instead of risking an expedition into Changling Mountain?” Su Ze still didn’t quite understand.

Wei Fengtang sighed. “Because most mutation events end with the victim’s body bursting apart. Dead animals and plants attract no attention, and human deaths go to the police first, who treat them as criminal cases—right up until the first successful mutation surfaced.

“Fortunately, that Mutant didn’t appear too late. Two weeks after the meteor shower ended, an incident occurred during a military field march. Since it happened deep in the mountains where few people ever set foot, it drew no outside attention.

“After that, we spent more time investigating, collecting information, and eliminating red herrings… Only toward the end of the month did we establish the link between meteorite impact sites and mutation events. By then, most of the meteorites had already flowed to Pulche. They’ve been buying them up at premium prices this whole time.”

“Pulche?” Su Ze frowned slightly. “Could they know something?”

Wei Fengtang exchanged a glance with Qin Yu before answering, “Unclear. At least the compositional analysis they published showed nothing unusual.”

Qin Yu added, “But we can’t rule out the possibility that they’re holding information back. Over a thousand meteorites fell worldwide. If they’re truly as ordinary as that report claims, why would they keep buying them up at premium prices afterward?”

“I knew Old Pu and his capitalist cronies were up to no good!” Lin Xiuzhu was so furious his tentacles smacked against the ground with loud cracks. Mid-slap, his movements suddenly froze. “Wait. If that’s the case, did the country already know the apocalypse was coming?”

Wei Fengtang sighed inwardly and nodded. “Yes.”

“Then why not release the truth? If the country already knew, why not tell everyone the risks and keep them from getting contaminated and mutating?”

Lin Xiuzhu shot to his feet, his voice climbing with every word. The tips of his three-meter tentacles rose with them, flailing around him of their own accord. Backlit by the fire, he looked like the Kraken of deep-sea legend.

The display instantly put Wei Fengtang and Qin Yu on edge. The latter thrust an arm out to shield Wei Fengtang behind her, faint transparent filaments emerging from the pores along it.

Only Su Ze remained settled calmly on his rock, watching Lin Xiuzhu’s tentacles rage at the sky, quietly thinking—

As expected, in his current state, rocks really are much more convenient for Lin Xiuzhu to sit on than chairs.

Just as the filaments on Qin Yu’s arm were about to link together, Su Ze reached out, took hold of one of Lin Xiuzhu’s tentacles, and gave it a casual yank—nearly toppling the man head over heels.

“What are you doing!” Lin Xiuzhu glared at him.

“Relax.” Su Ze’s advice carried no particular emotion. “The country did it to prevent chaos.”

Wei Fengtang let out a breath of relief and murmured a soft thank-you to Qin Yu. Only after she lowered her arm did he speak. “Precisely. And in the earliest days of the mutation events, most victims were already dead. Aside from the gruesome scenes, the cause of death couldn’t be determined by the naked eye. Meanwhile, the odds of mutation were vanishingly small. Announcing the truth would have accomplished nothing for the investigation beyond sparking unnecessary panic.”

He paused there, then continued, his voice heavy. “And above all… we thought we still had time.”

Qin Yu kept her head lowered, eyes on the campfire as she spoke in a low voice. “Based on our analysis of the information collected, in the first two weeks—before the meteor shower had even ended—the probability of mutation events occurring near impact sites was less than one in a million, even counting mutated flora and fauna we might have missed.

“The third week, the number ticked up slightly, but since not everyone exposed to mutated creatures became contaminated, mutation events were still low-probability occurrences. So we issued only the bare minimum of advisories—publicizing warnings against eating raw meat, and notifying local governments and epidemic-prevention agencies to a limited extent.

“The fourth week, mutation events were still holding at an extremely low rate. At the same time, we discovered that no matter how a creature mutated, its behavior patterns remained traceable, still governed by biological instinct. By that logic, they were merely creatures with somewhat strange appearances. Nothing particularly dangerous…”

“Heh.” Lin Xiuzhu sneered. “Probability. Don’t you scientists realize that as long as a probability exists, it can happen? How could you guarantee mutated creatures would stay that docile forever? That a low-probability event wouldn’t suddenly explode?”

“Fine, you’re right. So what would you have done instead? Ban fishing and farming? Outlaw road trips? Cull every cat, dog, and family pet?” Qin Yu met Lin Xiuzhu’s eyes head-on, every sentence striking home. “Who bears the consequences of measures like that? Sacrifice the interests of an entire population for a one-in-a-million chance?”

“So those of us who actually hit that one-in-a-million just deserve it, is that it?!”

“I… that’s not what I meant…” Qin Yu wilted all at once, though her voice stayed firm. “Every decision has to weigh every side, but the plain truth is that no amount of weighing can account for everyone. All I can say is that at that stage, we did our best.”

“Our best? Heh. The result of your ‘best’ was sacrificing a small portion of people and letting the worst-case outcome run wild. You may not realize this, but that so-called one-in-a-million chance of yours has already contaminated the majority of humanity and turned them into zombie-like monsters!”

“What?!”

“What did you just say?!”

Qin Yu and Wei Fengtang cried out at the same time, shock written across their faces.

Lin Xiuzhu gave a scornful laugh and jerked his chin toward Su Ze. “Ask him!”

Under the combined stares of the two scientists, Su Ze spoke with steady calm. “On the night of the 9th, a portion of the population mutated for unknown reasons. Their muscle and bone proliferated abnormally, thinning their skin as a result. They fear sunlight, and they’re extremely aggressive.”

Wei Fengtang seized on the key point almost immediately. “The mutations share uniform traits?”

Su Ze nodded. “Yes.”

“Then it isn’t just mutation…” Wei Fengtang murmured. “Every case discovered before now resulted from gene fusion between different organisms… Unless multiple victims were contaminated by the genes of the same species simultaneously, every mutated individual should differ on the genetic level. This is… gene mutation!

“Yes—yes! Only gene mutation can explain a uniform change of this scale across a single species! The meteorite carries some substance that induces gene fusion between species, which is itself, in a sense, a form of gene mutation! So absent any external interference, it’s entirely plausible that genes influenced by it would undergo further mutation!”

Wei Fengtang seemed to sink into a world of his own, growing more animated with every word, even rising to his feet and pacing around the campfire without realizing it.

Mid-circle, he stopped abruptly and turned to look at Su Ze, surveying him from head to toe. “You… you’ve mutated as well?” He had heard Lin Xiuzhu mention that Su Ze was a Mutant too.

Su Ze answered without so much as a blink. “Yes.”

A flicker of doubt passed through Wei Fengtang’s eyes, but he quickly chose not to dwell on it. “You said just now that only a portion of people mutated. Does that mean another portion hasn’t changed at all?”

Surprise touched Su Ze’s eyes faintly as he confirmed, “Yes.”

At that answer, Wei Fengtang sank deep into thought once more. “That’s not right… If it’s gene mutation, why would some people show no change at all? If it were gene contamination, you could explain it by a lack of contact with the contamination source, but why would a large-scale gene mutation occur selectively? What determines whether a person mutates? Or did those people undergo some other kind of change entirely? No—I need gene samples. I need laboratory equipment!”

Wei Fengtang whipped his head toward Qin Yu. “Qin Yu, we’re going down the mountain the moment it’s light!”

Qin Yu nodded solemnly, but her expression soon turned troubled. She looked at Su Ze with anticipation laced with anxiety.

Su Ze didn’t disappoint her. “I’ll take you down.”

Qin Yu breathed a sigh of relief. After a moment’s thought, she turned to Lin Xiuzhu, her expression utterly serious. “We never let the worst-case outcome simply happen. The state has been preparing for the worst this entire time and doing everything in its power to prevent it. Why else would we have risked entering Changling Mountain?

“No one wanted things to turn out this way. I can understand your anger—your resentment, even—over what happened to you, and I don’t believe that sacrificing the interests of the few is automatically the right call. But it’s undeniable that only a stable environment can concentrate resources to the greatest possible degree. And at the time, that was exactly the environment we needed to support experimental research—to chase down the truth and find a solution.”

With that, Qin Yu turned slightly, presenting her back to Su Ze. “Su Ze, could you help me pull these branches off?”

Before Su Ze could answer, Wei Fengtang was already panicking. “Have you lost your mind! Do you want to die? Those branches are your arms and legs now. You’re talking about tearing your own limbs off!”

“But Teacher, it makes clothing so difficult,” Qin Yu paused, then added in a small voice, “and I’m afraid of frightening people.”

Wei Fengtang froze, then let out a long, long sigh and gave up trying to stop her.

Su Ze rose and walked around behind Qin Yu, puzzled. “Can’t you control them?”

Qin Yu smiled bitterly. “I can—but only their growth direction and nutrient supply. I could cut off the nutrients and wait for them to wither and drop, but that would take a week at minimum.”

Su Ze nodded in understanding. Once Qin Yu had clamped the branches between her teeth and braced herself, he raised his hand and wrenched hard.

“Mmph—!”

With the branches held between her teeth, Qin Yu’s scream was sealed inside her mouth, escaping only as a short, muffled groan in her throat. But to Lin Xiuzhu, the sound echoed in his ears like a sledgehammer, refusing to fade for a long, long time.

Watching Qin Yu sag limply into Su Ze’s arms, Lin Xiuzhu withdrew his gaze and stared into the campfire before him, lost in who knew what thoughts.