Nighttime, Kira's residence
Caridad quietly opened the door to Kira's bedroom and peeked inside. Seeing him sleeping peacefully, she sighed in relief.
Returning to her own room, she made a call to Chun Jian under the warm glow of her bedside lamp.
"Caridad, aren't you resting yet at this hour?"
"Neither are you," Caridad replied softly, her voice laced with concern. "You should take care of your health too."
"It's fine. The company is at a critical juncture. Thanks to Zhou Tianming's connections, we've made a breakthrough. We need to seize this opportunity."
Caridad hesitated, her lips parting slightly before closing again.
Chun Jian's concerned voice came through the phone. "What's wrong? Does it involve Zhou Tianming?"
"Yes." After a pause, Caridad continued, "I want to move."
"So suddenly? The current situation is stable. Copernicus City shouldn't be in any danger."
Shaking her head, Caridad said, "I'm worried about Zhou Tianming. I gave him the notebook. Once he reads it..."
"You're afraid he might target Kira?"
"Yes." Worry clouded Caridad's expression. "Death can drive people mad. He might become someone entirely different. It's better to be cautious."
After a moment of silence, Chun Jian responded, "I'll find another place. Start preparing."
"As soon as possible."
"Understood."
While Caridad and Chun Jian discussed relocation plans, Zhou Tianming sat in the private cabin of a shuttle returning to Earth.
His gaze remained fixed on the notebook lying discarded on the bed.
At times, his face twisted in conflict. Other moments, he paced restlessly, stealing glances at it.
He reached out, only to recoil in panic.
Deep down, he suspected his body was failing—and the notebook held the answers.
But those answers might plunge him into utter despair.
Could genetic defects be cured?
Regrettably, even in a world like Seed with advanced genetic technology, there was no remedy.
This was precisely why Ray Le Creuset sought to drag all humanity down with him.
Ulen Hibiki...
The origin of everything.
Would he become a second Ray Le Creuset?
Could he remain rational after learning his inevitable fate?
Zhou Tianming didn't know.
Part of him wanted to ignore the issue like some elderly might, but his rational mind knew avoidance wouldn't make it disappear. Early knowledge meant early solutions—or at least mental preparation.
Finally, he picked up the notebook.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, feeling his heart pound violently as he forced himself to open it despite the dread.
This was Via Hibiki's personal journal—a mix of casual musings, gossip, professional thesis content, and hand-drawn mind maps.
As Zhou Tianming read carefully, Via Hibiki's hidden facets gradually unfolded before him.
In the original work, she didn't appear much, portraying a compassionate mother who loved her child.
But the version in the notes was different.
Without a doubt, she was a researcher.
A rational, cold-hearted scientist.
In the first half of the notebook, she displayed a mindset that could be described as ruthless, filled with passion for her research. Her union with Ulen Hibiki was more about participating in a grand experiment.
In the Ultimate Coordinator project, she assisted in developing and debugging the Artificial Womb, showing no mercy toward the failed fertilized eggs.
Her written records exuded an icy detachment—each failed specimen was merely a reference for adjusting the Artificial Womb's data.
This changed midway through the notes when the appearance of a woman stirred something in her.
Zhou Hanxiang.
Tian Ming's fingertips lightly brushed over his mother's name as he read, his heart gradually calming.
The notes documented Zhou Hanxiang's initial visit.
Via began paying attention to her because she sensed emotions in her that differed from the other researchers.
Between the lines, Via's transformation was evident—her heart softened, and she began to reflect on the failed fertilized eggs.
Several entries expressed regret over the failures, vowing to handle them with greater care and caution.
This shift culminated in a fundamental change upon his birth.
From Via's perspective in the notes, Tian Ming learned what had happened back then.
Via watched as Zhou Hanxiang fought to protect her child, persisting despite repeated tests showing a 0% chance of survival. No matter how grueling or exhausting, she never gave up.
Maintaining the body of a comatose patient wasn't easy—daily massages, nutrient injections, expensive medications to ensure normal function upon awakening.
That sheer willpower left Via awestruck, leading to a profound change in her mindset.
Unfortunately, for a researcher conducting human experiments, this was disastrous.
The handwriting in the later notes became noticeably erratic—sometimes scribbled, sometimes with large sections crossed out, even torn or ink-pierced pages.
It was clear Via's mental state had deteriorated; the human experiments had taken a heavy toll.
Tian Ming noticed a one-month gap in the dates marked at the top.
Only after regaining her composure did Via resume recording, and he finally found the answer he sought—
Tian Ming's case was extremely rare. Everything appeared normal, yet the outcome defied predictions.
After thorough investigation, I discovered the issue lay with the Artificial Womb—certain overlooked factors had caused this result. Why did Coordinators born naturally in a mother's womb exhibit changes inconsistent with their adjustments?
It's strange—why would the mother's body interfere with an already adjusted fertilized egg?
I once thought the womb was merely a protective chamber, supplying nutrients for growth.
But after repeated study, I realized it played a far greater role.
It was "adjusting" the child it nurtured.
This phenomenon was more pronounced in Coordinators—the root of the "discrepancy."
Genes, once adjusted, became like trimmed puzzle pieces, no longer fitting seamlessly into the "puzzle." Gaps appeared where there should have been perfect alignment.
The final stage of the maternal body is an "adjustment" made to address this issue—reinforcing, sealing gaps, and completing the "puzzle." Its purpose is simple: to ensure the child survives healthily, prioritizing survival above all else in its "adjustments."
But our top priority is ability—assembling various capabilities together, with survival as a secondary consideration.
This is precisely Zhou Tianming's situation. The Artificial Womb is a machine, and problems we failed to recognize are ones it could never resolve. This is the reason for countless failures. While Zhou Tianming's survival was a glimmer of hope for us, for him, it was an abyss—a curse. He wasn't meant to survive.
One day, he will die from genetic collapse—maybe in a few years, maybe a decade. This bomb has been ticking since the moment he was born. This chaotic "puzzle" will inevitably fall apart one day.
Zhou Tianming stared expressionlessly at Via's final conclusion.
He had expected himself to break down—to hate the world like Ray Le Creuset, to laugh hysterically before sobbing uncontrollably.
But there was nothing.
The anxiety and fear he once felt quietly faded after learning the truth.
Like the surface of a still lake, undisturbed.
Was it because of his transmigration?
He wasn't afraid of death.
He couldn't even remember how he died in his past life.
Setting the notes aside, Zhou Tianming lay on the bed, blankly staring at the metal ceiling.
Zhou Hanxiang, Zhou Junguo, Gao Jing, Kira, Athrun…
Natarle…
Their faces and the memories he shared with them flooded his mind.
Clutching the fabric over his chest,
a surge of reluctance erupted like a volcanic explosion.
He curled up, hugging his shoulders tightly, weeping silently.
He wasn't lamenting his fate—only clinging to this world he had grown to love.