“You really don’t know? So, does that mean the T-virus wasn’t your doing either?”
Ning Yu furrowed her brow, realizing that things were indeed not as she had imagined.
“Some of your and William’s records were hidden in the metadata of the T-virus serum.”
She stated this fact but didn’t explain how she had decrypted it.
Upon hearing this, Lacy was momentarily stunned, then suddenly laughed in relief.
“So that’s how it is. It seems Lord William did some other things as well.”
“Now everything makes sense.”
Ning Yu also stepped closer to her, glancing at the screen beside her.
“Why don’t you elaborate?”
Lacy took a deep breath, the light wings behind her flickering twice before dimming.
She began to speak slowly.
“To bring happiness to all humanity—this has always been Lord William’s dream.”
“He wanted to eradicate sickness, disaster, and the inevitability of aging and death, allowing everyone to continue existing in some form forever.”
“The method he chose was cyberization.”
Lacy raised her arm, the sophistication of her body far surpassing what Ning Yu and Shen Yiyue could have imagined.
The skin on her hand spread apart in perfect arcs, revealing intricate structures beneath—delicate circuits and transistors arranged like stars in the night sky.
Then, all the structures in her hand rearranged themselves, transforming into a small, adorable mechanical rabbit before shifting back to her hand.
“However, in many voluntary human experiments on critically ill patients, cyberization encountered unprecedented failures.”
“It seems humanity is bound by a genetic shackle.”
Hearing this, Ning Yu blurted out:
“51%?”
“Correct.”
Lacy nodded, knowing that Ning Yu must have also obtained this information from the virus metadata.
“Then how were you able to break through this limitation?”
Ning Yu felt puzzled.
“This body of mine once belonged to Lord William’s fiancée.”
“She suffered from an incurable malignant disease. In a moment of utter despair, Lord William attempted the first human cyberization on her.”
“But this cyberization succeeded on the first try.”
“It was also the only successful one.”
Lacy opened her palm, lifting it and gazing at it with an unfamiliar expression.
“She? Aren’t you her?”
Ning Yu seemed to have noticed a detail.
“After the transformation, I completely lost all my previous memories. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m still her.”
“If you replaced a part of your body or some of your memories with something else, would you still be you?”
She murmured, as if lost in thought.
“But based on his gaze and reactions, my rational judgment tells me that Lord William doesn’t believe I’m still her.”
“No matter how much I wish…”
She was about to continue but suddenly stopped, her eyes returning to normal as if some mechanism had triggered a reset.
“Never mind, it’s not important.”
She shook her head, seemingly refocusing on the main topic.
Ning Yu, however, clearly sensed something unusual about Lacy. She recalled a recording in which William had once said to Lacy:
‘You will always be my beloved.’
Was this statement true or false? And who exactly did the ‘you’ refer to? Perhaps only William himself knew.
But judging from the current conversation, it seemed William had indeed…
“To solve the issue of humanity’s genetic shackle, William experimented and created the Utopia serum.”
Lacy pointed to a small vial that appeared on the screen, engraved with the letter “U.” The liquid inside shimmered with a faint, multicolored glow.
“Isn’t this…”
Shen Yiyue had a strong impression of this Mary Sue-like liquid, and Ning Yu also seemed to recall it.
“What you’re seeing now—the phenomenon of zombification—is what occurs when the Utopia experiment fails.”
She clicked on a video on the screen:
Inside a sealed laboratory, a creature that could no longer be called human wandered aimlessly.
Its face contorted grotesquely, its limbs flailing wildly under the shackles, its mouth agape as if trying to bite something.
Yet, it was far less terrifying than the current zombies. At least its skin didn’t have the sickly grayish hue, and its body showed no signs of decay.
“Utopia doesn’t have the horrifying effects of the current T-virus. Its primary purpose was to completely transform the human body to resolve the rejection effects caused by cyberization.”
“The T-virus was Leon’s creation, based on Utopia.”
At the mention of Leon’s name, Lacy’s eyes instantly sharpened, filled with unmistakable hatred and a desire to kill.
“He and Lord William were students of the same teacher, and Leon was the teacher’s biological son.”
“Although both were students, the teacher imparted all his knowledge to Lord William and sent Leon to the Clock Tower Magical Association in the Fog City.”
The screen displayed a man with long black hair, wearing round glasses, his features handsome and gentle—a classic image of a beautiful man.
He stood in front of a massive clock tower, dressed in a black robe, facing the camera with an expressionless face.
This was likely Leon.
“Unfortunately, in this era, magic has long since declined. Leon is the last student of the Clock Tower in Fog City.”
“He is known as the greatest magician of the present age.”
Ning Yu and Shen Yiyue didn’t quite understand what magic was, exchanging confused glances.
“Magic, in essence, refers to artificially created mysteries or miracles that can be achieved with current technology.”
Noticing their expressions, Lacy added an explanation.
“These magicians spend their entire lives pursuing a single goal.”
Hearing this, Ning Yu’s heart skipped a beat.
“Could it be… reaching the Root?”
“Correct.”
Lacy confirmed Ning Yu’s guess.
“It is said that in that place, you and I are one, past and future coexist, and it contains all supreme knowledge and truth.”
“In a way, magicians are also pitiful philosophers. The Root, to them, is like a flame to a moth—irresistibly fatal.”
“If one could reach it, all questions would be answered, all worries and delusions would vanish, and ultimate happiness could be attained.”
“That’s how they describe it.”
Lacy’s tone was filled with disdain for what sounded like a lofty ideal.