Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
Ten minutes later, Song Si received his test results: mentally healthy, slight schizophrenia tendencies, recommended to maintain good mood, exercise more, rest adequately, and undergo regular check-ups.
Chu Mingyi held the report, reading it over and over three times.
Chief Yang said, "No issues here. Who said he had schizophrenia?"
Chu Mingyi exchanged a glance with Song Si, choosing not to betray the former director and casually deflecting with an excuse. Chief Yang immediately tried to drag Song Si to the lab, but Chu Mingyi interjected, "He hasn't even had breakfast yet. At least let him eat first. Besides, I brought him here for treatment—"
"We've got it covered. I just had someone bring breakfast upstairs. Whatever he wants," Chief Yang said. "Mingyi, do me a favor and call Fu Xi over too. We'll wait for you."
Chu Mingyi: "Hey, Song—"
But Song Si had already followed Chief Yang.
The lab was located at the very end of the hallway—dozens of rooms and dozens of doors that occupying nearly an entire floor. The winding corridors resembled a maze, with many white-coated colleagues hurriedly carrying documents, some even munching on steamed buns as they walked.
"Our department focuses on research, so we don't have much clinical experience," Chief Yang explained as they walked. "Currently, there are about 13,500 victims of Ninghai Pharmaceuticals. Mild cases are being treated at regular hospitals, severe cases are under observation in specialized wards, and only the most critical cases are transferred to our department."
He sighed. "Even so, we have over fifty patients here. As a classified department, we face numerous restrictions. This is the first time we've had to accommodate such a large number of civilian patients—we're already at our limit."
Song Si asked, "What are the clinical symptoms?"
Chief Yang replied, "They fall into two main categories. First, physical aftereffects. Most patients took Ninghai's drugs for over a year, and all exhibit varying degrees of organ failure and premature aging. We have one extreme case—a patient who used Ninghai's drugs to treat cancer. In their desperation, they took massive doses in a short period. At thirty-one, their hair turned completely white, teeth fell out, bones deteriorated, and organs failed extensively. They're currently in the ICU and were just being kept alive by machines."
Song Si nodded. The situation matched the novel's description. If he wasn't mistaken...
"And a small subset developed psychological symptoms," Chief Yang continued, as expected. "These patients generally took the drugs for over three years. Strangely, they didn't show signs of aging. Instead, they exhibited aberrant ability states—some believed they'd become smarter, some surpassed human physical limits, some could hear others' thoughts... all kinds of manifestations. But at the same time, every single one suffers from insomnia, auditory hallucinations, dissociation, depression, and other mental disorders.
"The aging patients are manageable—standard treatment after stopping the medication works fine. But the ones with aberrant abilities are the real headache. We can't handle them. We need you and Fu Xi to take a look and brainstorm possible treatments."
Song Si said, "I actually have some ideas."
Chief Yang's eyes lit up. "Let's hear them."
Song Si pondered for a moment before briefly describing the treatment method from the novel: "Liu Cenning adsorbed Ability particles onto starch, then used special techniques to encapsulate them in capsules for patients to absorb through oral ingestion via the digestive tract. When Fu Xi and I treat patients, we also utilize our respective Special abilities. Similarly, if our Ability particles could be analyzed and converted into digital data, could we use modern network technology to cure superpower patients on a large scale?"
Chief Yang abruptly stopped walking and turned to stare fixedly at Song Si.
Startled by his reaction, Song Si also halted. "What?"
Chief Yang's eyes widened as he muttered under his breath. He took two steps forward before quickly retreating and locking eyes with Song Si again, his expression grave. "That idea of yours is dangerous. You haven't mentioned it to anyone else, have you?"
"?" Song Si frowned. "Dangerous?"
"Have you considered that if Ability particles could truly be digitized, their propagation speed would be exponentially faster than medication?"
Song Si instantly understood his meaning, a sudden chill running down his spine.
Yes. If following the novel's plot, developing a game specifically designed to cure superpower patients...
Someone could just as easily reverse-engineer the program to create a game with the opposite effect. And it wouldn't necessarily have to be a game—music, novels, illustrations, all could serve as mediums!
Once these things spread across the internet, it would be beyond what Ninghai Pharmaceuticals could control. Every ordinary person could potentially be exposed.
Did the original author not consider this deeply when writing this plot, or was it deliberately planted as a major foreshadowing?
Song Si's expression turned serious. "I haven't mentioned it to anyone else yet."
Chief Yang tugged at his goatee, pacing back and forth in the corridor while muttering to himself, seemingly completely absorbed in his own thoughts.
The two stood right in the middle of the hallway—one with green hair, the other murmuring incessantly—drawing curious glances from passing colleagues. Just as Song Si was about to suggest heading to the lab first, Chief Yang suddenly grabbed his hand and exclaimed, "Genius! Absolute genius! How did I never think of this? The risks are enormous, but if digitization could truly be achieved, it would undoubtedly revolutionize..."
A colleague walked past, and Chief Yang quickly cut himself off.
Once the person was gone, he lowered his voice. "I need to report this to the director privately. This isn't something that can be resolved quickly. Let's head to the lab first."
Song Si's heartbeat quickened as he suddenly realized: he had inadvertently planted an unknown seed in this world.
What kind of sprout would this seed eventually grow into?
The head of the First Division was in a state of excitement, briskly leading Song Si to the innermost laboratory.
Upon entering, they found another partitioned room behind transparent glass, where a handsome young man no older than thirty sat. Aside from severe dark circles, he didn't appear to be critically ill. Chief Yang said, "Our most troublesome patient at the moment. Five years on medication, over 30 days of insomnia, severe schizophrenia and self-harm tendencies. When he was brought in, his arms and legs had severe burns—some flesh was even charred, some already rotting. All self-inflicted, tsk..."
The man's hands and feet were all shackled to the chair, his arms and calves wrapped in white bandages, an IV drip connected to the back of his right hand. His suspicious gaze lingered on Song Si outside the glass.
"Special ability testing showed some energy fluctuations, but we couldn't determine what kind of ability it was. He refuses to tell us," Chief Yang said. "Even in this state, he insists everything's normal, rejects treatment, and claims we're violating his personal freedom—threatening to sue us in court. Oh, and he's a lawyer."
The green indicator light by the glass wall lit up as the man inside spoke, his voice transmitted through the one-way intercom: "I'm not sick. Let me go back to work."
Chief Yang pressed the intercom button and spoke earnestly: "Xiao Zhang, the first rule of being human: don't conceal your illness for fear of treatment. If you don't have a clear understanding of your own physical condition, even if you return to work, you won't be able to fully contribute to society. Don't you agree?"
"Clear understanding?" The man looked at Song Si. "Like dyeing your hair green when you get cheated on?"
Song Si, inexplicably caught in the crossfire: What the hell?
As a patient, his first move was to mock the doctor's hair color?
He immediately felt the urge to roll up his sleeves.
Chief Yang quickly grabbed Song Si's arm, turned off the intercom, and forced a laugh to smooth things over: "Haha, young people these days—their brains aren't quite right. He's just joking. Your new hair color looks great, really great!"
Song Si: "...Thanks."
Chief Yang nodded: "So? Want to take a look?"
Song Si said, "Show me his test reports first. I'll need to go into the isolation room later."
Chief Yang hauled out two thick stacks of test reports. Song Si skimmed through them rapidly—the ability monitoring column read: "Energy fluctuation index level 3.24, ability manifestation unknown, fluctuation origin: brain."
He put on the heavy protective suit and entered the isolation room.
Three cameras overhead rotated, capturing them from every angle—protecting the patient, and the doctor.
Song Si studied the patient before him and said, "Song Si."
The man sighed. "Zhang Qi."
Song Si nodded, signaling for him to start talking if he had anything to say.
Zhang Qi shifted impatiently in his chair. "I've told you people countless times already—I'm not sick, and I don't need your selfless treatment. Also, I need to take medication at fixed times daily—don't look at me like that. I know you've taken down Ninghai Group." He scoffed disdainfully. "Ninghai Group's development approach was correct. Fifty years—no, twenty years from now, you'll realize what a stupid thing you've done."
Song Si's expression remained unchanged as he pointed at Zhang Qi's legs. "Is this your hobby?"
"This is a necessary sacrifice," Zhang Qi said. "An unavoidable war."
"A war with yourself?"
Zhang Qi narrowed his eyes.
Song Si removed the helmet of his protective suit.
Outside, Chief Yang frowned at the sight and immediately spoke into the earpiece: "We still haven't identified his ability! This is dangerous! Song Si, listen to me, put the helmet back on right now."
The moment the helmet was removed, a powerful and dense wave of Exotic Energy surged forth, far exceeding the documented 3.24 level—almost akin to a fully matured, out-of-control Ability user. Song Si's eyes instantly transformed into vertical slits as the entity in his mind, like a shark scenting blood, awakened with excitement. It coiled around his brain, pried open every pore in his body, and turned him into a conduit, greedily sucking in the energy saturating the room.
In less than a minute, the fully awakened Twin Butterflies had absorbed every trace of Special ability in the vicinity, sated, folding their wings and retreating into dormancy. Song Si remained in a dazed state, struggling to regain control of his consciousness as he pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose.
Zhang Qi sat slack-jawed, his pupils unfocused and his body slumped weakly in the chair. His shoulders began to tremble.
Gradually, Song Si came back to himself, the aftereffects of using his ability setting in—dry mouth, irritability, and an inexplicable craving for ice cream.
He glanced at Zhang Qi in the chair and asked, "Still want a war?"
Zhang Qi’s handsome face twisted in pain. He looked down at his mangled arms and legs, a strained groan escaping his throat. "It hurts so much..."
Song Si put his helmet back on before licking his lips, feeling the need for a break.
"Another doctor will be here soon," he said. "Cooperate with the treatment and focus on getting discharged as soon as possible. Oh, and don’t forget to settle the medical bills."
He turned to leave.
"Dr. Song." Zhang Qi suddenly called out to him.
Already irritable, Song Si glanced back, thinking that if this kid dared mention his hair again, he’d beat him into a new understanding of himself.
Instead, Zhang Qi stared blankly at him and asked:
"Are you seeing anyone?"
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