Star Hunter

Chapter Three: Transformation

At the moment of life and death, intense pain can shatter the will to survive. During such times, it may prove beneficial to delve into deep self-hypnosis, numbing the nerves that transmit pain, and focusing all your energy to think in the shortest span of time…

These were the words spoken by the old man to Xilin in the past, but Xilin had never truly implemented them, for never had he been so devoid of resistance as he was in this moment.

Hypnosis.

Self-hypnosis.

His whole body convulsed; Xilin struggled to take a breath, closing his eyes.

…

The old man watched the rising wave on the screen, his hand trembling as he removed his goggles. Leaning in closer to the screen, his hollow eyes were fixed on it, as if he were scrutinizing the truth of the matter.

The spiral dial had been turned 270 degrees, and the chip had been activated to 75%.

Ignoring Xilin on the operating table, the old man smiled grotesquely. The life indicator still pulsed with strength—this meant it could still be raised!

280 degrees…

290 degrees…

300 degrees…

The instrument began to emit warnings, yet the red warning sign and the shrill alarm did nothing to deter the old man.

At this moment, madness consumed his eyes.

In all his previous trials, nearly a thousand subjects had never endured the 300-degree threshold, yet today…

“Heh... Hehehe… My name, Hou Lei, will be recorded in Glory and Cipher!”

Xilin, who was barely conscious, could not pay attention to the old man’s words. If he had heard them, he would surely have thought the old man a lunatic! To imagine that such limited resources could lead to an appearance in Glory and Cipher?

Glory and Cipher were the most renowned electronic magazines in the galactic network, revered as the "histories" of the Star Alliance. In comparison, countless other publications faded into the background. These two magazines were the only ones within the Star Alliance whose contribution scores exceeded 90 on a 100-point scale. This meant that any person, event, or research featured in these magazines had a minimum contribution score of 90.

Anyone or anything documented in Glory and Cipher, whether a person or achievement, was capable of shaking the entire Star Alliance. Glory often featured generals and politicians, while Cipher highlighted academics and engineers.

The people or achievements recorded in these two colossal magazines were the result of immense human, material, financial, and temporal effort. On the planet Xilin was on, the highest contribution score for any report barely exceeded twenty, with only less influential journals capturing such information. In fact, any report with a score above ten would be broadcast on the planet’s television for over ten days, let alone those surpassing ninety.

Thus, the old man’s words seemed utterly delusional.

The old man twisted the dial once more.

310 degrees…

320 degrees…

Beep—beep—beep—

The alarm grew more frantic, the life curve becoming erratic. Several instruments started to emit smoke, their vibrations causing buttons to explode, and the intensity only increased. Xilin’s body, connected to numerous tubes, began to shake as if it could no longer bear the strain.

Bang!

One of the finger cuffs holding Xilin’s fingers flew off under the pressure.

Bang!

Another.

But the old man was oblivious to Xilin’s suffering; his entire focus was on the data on the screen. His finger hovered over the dial, eager to see the final results.

Around him, buttons from the malfunctioning instruments flew in all directions.

Time was running out. Xilin knew his limit.

His liberated fingers caught a button that had flown from one of the instruments. This was a reaction brought on by the last vestiges of his consciousness, induced by the pain, and it was his final opportunity.

With only the faintest trace of awareness, his analysis was remarkably precise, unprecedented in accuracy, like a finely-tuned machine performing error corrections. In less than a second, Xilin released the button in his grasp.

Whoosh—

The button, ricocheting off the ground, wall, and a nearby instrument’s panel, finally struck the old man’s left eye. It pierced the brain and severed his central nervous system, causing instant death. At that moment, the "madman" had his finger poised on the spiral dial, about to make the final adjustment. The dial was now at 350 degrees—one could hardly exaggerate how precarious this moment was. Had it reached 360 degrees, Xilin would have perished.

Fortunately, the old man was, after all, human. Luckily, he had not undergone any grotesque body modifications. The old man collapsed lifeless beside the instruments.

At the exact moment of his death, all the tubes restraining Xilin retracted, and a warning appeared on the instruments. An electronic voice announced: "Master’s death detected. Initiating purge sequence."

With his body still numb, Xilin rolled off the table and struggled to rise, his body failing him. He could only lift his head to watch the fleeting images and data on the screens.

Every piece of information scheduled for deletion flashed across the screens. It was unimaginable that the old man had programmed such a purge mode.

Even B-class or A-class gene individuals would struggle to capture all the data and images, and even if they did, they might not retain it all, let alone from multiple screens simultaneously. Yet Xilin had memorized everything displayed on more than a dozen screens. This would have been impossible before. Although his memory was sharp, his ability to process information had never been so swift, especially not across so many screens.

His body adjusted rapidly as Xilin’s eyes, seemingly unfocused, absorbed the data flashing across the screens. If he didn’t understand these details, he might never know how he had died. The substance the old man had injected into him felt like an unknown bomb.

Five minutes later, the purge was complete. All data related to the experiment, including the old man’s personal information, was erased, but Xilin retained it all in his memory.

"Purge complete. Destruction sequence will execute in five minutes. Sandification countdown…"

Damn!

Xilin cursed inwardly, his body slowly regaining some sensation. He staggered to his feet and began to make his way to the exit.

The doors to the underground lab opened, revealing other rooms for storage—such as "specimens," food, equipment, and drugs. The true core of the lab, however, was the room where Xilin had been kept, and he had neither the time nor the inclination to examine the other rooms. He followed the route he had taken earlier, relying on his memory.

All the doors were open, as though deliberately arranged, and the five minutes were perfectly timed.

As Xilin reached the ventilation shaft near the lab's edge, the sandification process activated. A sand-like depression formed in the central lab, rapidly expanding outward, turning the floor, instruments, and the deceased old man into flowing sand. The sandification spread. When Xilin crawled out through the ventilation shaft and returned to the building, the sandification had just reached that point.

There was no time to rest. Xilin knew the so-called "destruction program" would not be limited to sandification. To prevent his research from leaking, the old man had bound the life form with the entire program. The destruction would be more thorough.

Fortunately, it was still dark, and the streets were empty. Xilin moved swiftly beneath the high roofs and eaves, mindful that if the "Sky Eye" detected him, all would be for naught.

Sure enough, not long after Xilin’s departure, a massive explosion shook the sleeping city. A mushroom cloud rose into the sky, dazzling flames engulfed the area, and deep craters marred the ground. Buildings collapsed from the shockwave, rubble scattered everywhere, and startled children cried while adults shouted in anger.

Before anyone could approach the explosion site, a white light descended from the sky, enclosing the area in a shimmering cage, isolating it from the outside world. The "Sky Eye" had already reacted, and it wouldn’t be long before the security patrols arrived to investigate.

However, Xilin had no interest in these matters. After slipping back to his tiny ten-square-meter home in the slums, his taut nerves finally relaxed, and he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.