Only Jing Shu's team really understood what was going on inside, since she'd already gone through something similar before.
"Alright, I'll go see Hao Yunlai myself." She didn't waste any time. She jumped into the amphibious shark submarine and drove straight to his place. Yang Yang was there, holding a syringe and hesitating about whether to jab him or not.
Hao Yunlai looked thinner than ever, with dark circles under his eyes like a panda. He was using a stick to force his eyelids open while muttering to himself, "A bit to the left... yeah... now right... harder, come on..."
Hao San'er, who was cowering in the corner, trembled like a leaf, terrified out of his mind. He looked ready to drop to his knees and worship whoever was in front of him.
"Tsk," Yang Yang sighed, "Hao Yunlai's brain's fried right now. The aftereffects are serious. He keeps mumbling to himself. I wanted to give him a sedative, but he absolutely refused."
Jing Shu gently set her case down, took off her gloves and hat, and blew out a soft breath. "Hao Yunlai, tell me what's going on."
He struggled to turn his head, fighting off sleep with sheer willpower. "Jing Shu, thank you for saving my life, for pulling me out of hell, but I can't sleep, I don't dare. Down there's too terrifying, it's really, really terrifying."
Jing Shu frowned. The aftereffects were bad. Was there anything that could stop him from dreaming altogether? She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. The crimson crystal had worked once before to save him through time, but using it again might not help.
"Wait... the Crimson Spirit Spring," she muttered to herself. "If my guess's right, it's the essence refined from the crimson liquid. Since the crimson crystal came from a fourth-dimensional substance, maybe its refined form could eliminate the aftereffects? Perfect chance to test it on Hao Yunlai. But if it triggers the strongest genetic traits, would he turn into a monkey or something? Hmm... though honestly, maybe humans already have the strongest genes. He probably won't end up like a dino-chicken, right?"
After a long internal debate, she finally decided to let him choose. "If drinking this could cure you, but it might turn you into an ape, would you take it?"
Hao Yunlai let out a painful laugh. "I'd do it even if it sent me into the beast reincarnation path."
"Alright then, drink this." She handed him a test tube of diluted Crimson Spirit Spring. Whether it worked or not, she had to find out.
She'd gone all-in to test its full effects.
Speaking of tests, the eggs Xiao Dou laid earlier—those dino-chicken ones—the hen had gone full mama mode and was guarding them under her feathers. Since she seemed so determined, Jing Shu figured she might as well let her hatch them. Who knew what might come out? Maybe this was the dawn of a new species.
If she could hatch a batch of badass dino-chickens that could both fight and lay eggs, that'd be amazing. Just imagine, a whole flock of them patrolling her yard. If anyone dared steal from her again, they'd be executed on the spot.
Still, it was too soon to celebrate. She quickly logged it in her notebook:
Xiao Dou is incubating dino-chickens.
Without hesitation, Hao Yunlai gulped down the Crimson Spirit Spring. A moment later, the test tube slipped from his hand with a clink, and he passed out cold.
Jing Shu caught the falling glass just in time, muttering, "Close one." Her reflexes had clearly improved along with her constitution.
"He just... fell asleep? You give him a sleeping pill or something? Damn, that's fast." Yang Yang reluctantly tucked away his syringe. "Same medicine, but he refuses my shot. Guess my needle's too thin for his taste."
Jing Shu shrugged. "It's fine, it's done. Now it's up to fate."
That settled Hao Yunlai's case for now. She'd wait till he woke up to see how it turned out. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was sent by the heavens just to take the blame for her. Why did she even think that? She didn't know.
At least things finally quieted down for a bit. But today was also the official opening of the Red Nematode Processing Factory. Su Yiyang said he couldn't handle the crowd alone, so she had to show up to steady the scene and cut the ribbon.
Jing Shu didn't refuse. The factory was finally on track, and that made her thrilled. The moment it started making profit, she'd be even happier. Thanks to the new points system, everyone was starting to rely on points and see their value, but of course, some folks just had to test if points could be exchanged for virtual coins.
Every time she checked her balance, it was lower. On top of that, with resources flowing again, 98% of the people wanted in on factory jobs. But there weren't enough positions, so what could the rest do?
Simple. They started pushing carts around Wu City, digging up carrion scavengers from every alley and field. But soon, people realized they could only dig up a hundred or two hundred kilograms a day. The points earned were pitiful.
It was exhausting and barely profitable. But if they bought the bugs from others at a cheaper rate than the factory, they could collect a few thousand kilograms, then resell them for a margin. That meant earning ten or more points a day, which was worth over ten virtual coins. Before the apocalypse, that was unthinkable.
And it was easy money. Mobilizing all those bored civilians to collect bugs was the fastest way to boost productivity.
Of course, it needed capital. Many people started mortgaging points for virtual coin loans through the finance office, then used the funds to sweep the entire Wu City, gathering corpse bugs and animal carcasses.
The problem was, every coin came from Jing Shu's account. In just a few days, tens of thousands of virtual coins had flowed out, and that number would only keep climbing.
Because collecting corpse bugs wasn't short-term work. It was a long, ongoing cycle.
Jing Shu hesitated for a long time. If she raised corpse bugs herself, she'd have to feed them anyway. No matter what, it'd require resources.
It was way less efficient than just buying them cheap from the wild. These bugs were everywhere, crawling across the land like kings of the apocalypse. Leave your window open, and they'd bite you in your sleep. They even ate their own kind. Tough little bastards.
So yeah, collecting them from the wild was cheaper, faster, and it kept the virtual coin economy flowing. It gave people a way to earn money and created jobs. If she hoarded too many coins herself, circulation would stop, and no one would have money to buy corpse bugs.
And if that happened?
No one would have coins, no one could afford Red Nematodes, and everyone would starve. The government would have no choice but to distribute Red Nematodes for free again.
And in the end, the one losing out would still be Jing Shu.