Chapter Twenty-Six: When Movies Mirror Reality

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Los Angeles, Base Three, Room 1414.

Qi Xi had just finished his shower and stepped out, stark naked. He lived alone in this room, so he didn’t bother with modesty.

“Ah, the facilities here are great—the food, the amenities, everything. But this civilized world has only five days left, and there’s been no real progress. It’s really a headache. Watermelon, that guy, even in his past life with me, never found any crucial clues?” Qi Xi rubbed his not-too-long hair with a towel.

He disliked using hair dryers, preferring to let his hair dry naturally.

“The clue from two days ago disappeared so easily, it’s truly infuriating.” Qi Xi walked to the fridge, grabbed a can of beer, took a few sips, and muttered in dissatisfaction.

Two days ago, Qi Xi, Watermelon, and two others finally located the second laboratory related to information about the world’s end. (The first lab had already been searched in Watermelon’s past-life memories, yielding no substantial progress.) But upon arrival, they found everyone had turned into zombies, and all relevant data had been wiped clean. This infuriated Qi Xi and his companions.

“If this keeps up, it’ll be the end of the world…” Qi Xi tossed his beer onto the table from a distance of two and a half meters, landing it precisely where he’d aimed.

“I have to do something.” He walked over to his desk, sat down, thought for a while, then stood up, put on some underwear, threw on a bathrobe, and returned to the desk.

Sitting properly, he opened his MacBook, moved his hand to the mouse, and began his task… watching a movie.

Indeed, all he could do was watch movies. There was no internet, no access to the local network, and he knew nothing about hacking. Among the five of them, only Xiao Fengyu was proficient with computers—capable of hacking small websites, but breaking into the mainframe of Base Three was even less likely than suddenly becoming a genetically engineered superhuman.

The movie Qi Xi watched was “Resident Evil.” He spent four hours watching the entire series—fast-forwarding, of course, since four hours wasn’t enough to watch every minute. He even tried the associated game for a bit, looked up related materials, and nodded, having gleaned some insights.

The origins of Resident Evil began in the Middle Ages, near the castle of the Salazar family somewhere in Spain, where a cult known as Los Illuminados secretly conducted rituals using the Las Plagas parasite. Later, the first lord of the Salazar family seized control of the cult and buried the parasites deep beneath the castle.

In 1960, the sixth-generation head of the Ashford family, Edward Ashford, and the young noble Oswell E. Spencer discovered an ancient virus in the “Sun Ladder” chrysanthemum in the African ruins of Gudi Paya. The virus could mutate the genes of organisms, robbing them of consciousness while granting them tremendous vitality and resistance. Intrigued by these properties, the two began research and named it the “Progenitor Virus,” from which the original virus sample was born.

Subsequent research used various small animals rather than humans as test subjects.

By 1977, at the Discipline and Training Center, their efforts finally bore fruit. After combining the virus with leech DNA, Dr. Marcus achieved the breakthrough he’d been seeking and named it the “T-virus.” Seeking to perfect the virus, he abandoned rodents in favor of mammals, and, when necessary, humans.

This, of course, led to the ensuing disasters.

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In fact, when this virus infects humans, it doesn’t inherently turn them into aggressive zombies; that trait was deliberately engineered. Through relentless research, Spencer’s vision was realized: the combat-oriented lifeform “Tyrant” was created. Tyrants possessed a certain intelligence, could follow programmed commands, and were stronger, more resilient, and more dangerous than any human. Yet almost everyone infected with the virus suffered catastrophic brain failure, leaving them virtually mindless. Simulation experiments suggested that only one in ten million could become a Tyrant. At the same time, the French branch company began developing the latest “Nemesis” project—a wholly new approach to biological weaponry. Nemesis was an artificially engineered parasite that, when attached to a host’s brain, greatly enhanced intelligence. If combined with the T-virus, it could produce highly intelligent combat organisms. However, most hosts died within five minutes of Nemesis implantation, unable to withstand the surge in intelligence.

It was clear that the zombies of Resident Evil were fundamentally different from those in this world.

But there was a key similarity.

Both were artificially created, and both led to the world’s devastation—although the devastation in Resident Evil paled in comparison to reality.

The difference was that in Resident Evil, zombies were a necessary intermediary in creating high-intelligence bioweapons. They were a means to an end—a biological weapon.

But the virus in this world was simply a tool to accelerate human genetic evolution.

That was the essential difference.

Either way, one thing was clear: manufacturing such a virus brought immense profit.

Over the past days, Qi Xi pondered—what benefit could there be if nearly all of humanity became zombies?

He came to a conclusion: the world was a giant cake, and humans were those dividing it. The fewer the people, the bigger each person’s share. But some were not content with that—they used the virus to evolve, to become even stronger, and thus claim more of the cake.

A mad idea.

Qi Xi couldn't help but recall an old joke: three children and two apples—how should they be divided? Someone inevitably shouts, “Kill one child and the division is perfect.” Others chime in, “Kill two and you get both apples to yourself.”

It was funny back then, but now, seeing the world overrun by zombies, Qi Xi shivered. How terrifying—to kill billions for personal gain.

Those who kill and burn wear golden belts, while those who build bridges and pave roads die with no one to bury them.

Qi Xi forced himself to stop thinking about it. At this point, only one question mattered: which major power orchestrated this apocalypse?

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The group had discussed this question before and reached a conclusion: the League of Heroes was the mastermind.

Their reasoning was simple—the League of Heroes had managed to gather so many gifted individuals in China, likely because the Red Army’s existence provided the necessary conditions for their success.

Of course, there was no concrete evidence for this theory—everything was conjecture.

But even if it was only speculation, it was plausible. Yet knowing this solved nothing—who was supporting the League of Heroes from the shadows?

With the backing of dozens of powerful American families and conglomerates, which one was the true puppet master?

Qi Xi needed to uncover this.

While lost in these thoughts, the doorbell rang.

“Who is it?” Qi Xi snapped back to reality, reflexively asking aloud as he walked to the door.

He opened it—it was Xiao Fengyu.

Xiao Fengyu looked at him and said, “We have a lead. Come to my room and let’s discuss.”

Qi Xi nodded.

Every room was monitored, except for Xiao Fengyu’s. Not because those in power had forgotten, but because Xiao Fengyu had used his computer skills to hack the system, looping a day’s footage on repeat to the main security office.

When Qi Xi entered Xiao Fengyu’s room, he found Watermelon and the other two already there.

“Senior, you’re here,” Watermelon greeted him.

“What’s the lead?” Qi Xi asked directly.