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墨書 Inktalez
In the abandoned hospital's circular corridor, twelve Incubators floated under the harsh glow of emergency lights, revealing the curled outlines of embryos. Han Xiao's bulletproof vest was soaked with cold sweat as the child in his arms used an intravenous needle to etch Russian letters into the inner wall of the incubator—identical to the marks Li Ce had drawn on the ground before his death.
"Every one hundred thousand accesses triggers an Incubator's self-destruct sequence." The voice, altered through modulation, echoed down the corridor. An Interpol sniper stood ready in a building across the street, unable to lock onto the source of the sound through the red dot in his scope.
Suddenly, the child coughed violently, and Han Xiao's smart wristband indicated that his temperature had soared to 41°C. At that moment, an encrypted email from the Berlin Medical Team came through, diagnosing: "CXCR4 gene mutation antibodies can repair maternal immune systems but will cause irreversible damage to the hippocampus."
"Make a choice." The dark web live stream abruptly cut in, revealing a host wearing a mask made from Li Ce's skin, holding up two sealed boxes. "The savior or the mother?" The left box exuded a faint blue mist, while the right was filled with a nerve suppressant emblazoned with the Mao logo.
The live broadcast of Mao Yixuan's hearing suddenly took over all screens. He tore open his shirt in public, revealing scars from electric shocks on his back that formed Russian characters spelling "defective product," causing an uproar among the audience. As childhood treatment footage played, stocks of Mao surged bizarrely on the New York market, while the main screen at the stock exchange simultaneously displayed footage of a laboratory fire from twenty years ago.
"Action!" As soon as the commander issued the order, all snipers' biometric codes appeared in the dark web auction area. Armed men wearing gas masks surged out from a fire escape. Han Xiao crashed through a security door while holding the child and discovered a formula for a drug that Zhou Mingli had last handled, drawn on the door with developer fluid.
The medical wristband began its countdown; this was the final window for antibody injection. Han Xiao stared at the injection mark on the child's neck—it perfectly matched Li Ce's needle mark from rehab. A dissection diagram sent from Berlin indicated that extracting antibodies would result in permanent cross-firing of brain nerves in the infant.
"Mommy, choose the right one." The child suddenly whispered in Russian, their pupils reflecting surveillance footage from an orphanage in Moscow. Han Xiao recognized it as a charity project his father had inspected; on the edge of an archival photo was a boy drawing chemical formulas in blood—remarkably similar to Zhou Mingli's hasty notes from his laboratory.
The dark web server suddenly overloaded as all Incubators activated simultaneously. Each box contained a surrogate baby with medical codes from different countries affixed to their chests. Just as A Yong's tactical team burst into the corridor, they saw one baby at the far end convulsing, clutching Han Xiao's missing wedding ring.
"It's time to end this." A man with a voice modulator emerged from a cloud of disinfectant mist, holding an ignition device connected to an underground cold storage unit. "These refrigerated boxes containing genetic samples will reach international waters in twenty-four hours." His lab coat bore embroidered Russian text—the very words Han Xiao had heard as he lay unconscious in the delivery room.
The child suddenly convulsed, and the monitor displayed that the antibody concentration had reached a critical level. Han Xiao's medical wristband emitted an organ failure alarm as she tore open her protective suit to reveal the transplant scar beneath her collarbone—matching perfectly with Li Ce's organ compatibility record.
"Replace it with cerebrospinal fluid!" She plunged the blood collection needle into the lumbar spine, and as the pain-relieving liquid flowed into the analyzer, the entire floor of the Incubator erupted in alarms. The genetic map from Berlin materialized into a spiral model on her tablet, while the child's pupils gradually dimmed as the data loaded.
Armed men wearing gas masks suddenly convulsed in unison, and twelve surrogate infants simultaneously expelled green mucus. Lin Xiao finally deciphered the dark web command: hidden within the surveillance tape from the delivery room was a sonic password to halt the transport of refrigerated boxes.
"Stop..." The man staggered as he raised the detonator, "You have no idea what they are doing to us..." Gunfire erupted alongside the child's cries, and Han Xiao saw the Bulletproof Glass shatter into a spiderweb pattern as real bullets pierced the liquid nitrogen pipes in the underground cold storage.
Amidst the roar of leaking refrigerant, she held the child whose body temperature was plummeting. A notification from Berlin indicated that antibody production was complete, while Mao Yixuan's heartbeat monitor synchronized on her wristwatch—he was experiencing acute myocardial ischemia at the hearing.
As special police burst into the corridor, Han Xiao cradled a smiling child. In his palm lay a blood-stained medical chip inscribed with Renai Hospital's destruction record. Suddenly, the surveillance at the end of the corridor rebooted, projecting footage from twenty years ago onto the cracked walls:
Young Father Mao stood alongside Li Ce's biological father in a laboratory; one held embryo A while the other’s embryo B was oozing blood. The camera abruptly shifted to an observation window where Zhou Mingli, wearing an intern badge, recorded data with gloves stained by green mucus identical to that of the surrogate infants.
"The game continues." The dark web livestream popped up its final dialogue box, and suddenly, location signals for twelve refrigerated boxes appeared at major ports around the world. Han Xiao trembled as she opened the child's palm; there, the fingerprints matched exactly with Li Ce's fingerprint identification report from his youth.
The downpour resumed heavily. In the blue light of an ambulance, Han Xiao saw Mao Yixuan being lifted onto a stretcher. His bleeding fingers traced an unfinished chemical formula on the ground—precisely what was drawn in invisible ink on the back of the child's birth certificate. The phone in her bulletproof vest vibrated suddenly; an unknown number sent a blurry ultrasound image: hundreds of frozen embryos were rhythmically pulsating aboard a cargo ship.
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