Chapter Five: Ocean Blue Online
As the barrier shattered, the renowned Carbon-Based Gene Pool manufacturing device finally landed on Azure Star.
The gene pool itself was oval-shaped, constructed atop a half-meter-thick alloy plate. The plate measured two hundred meters along its length and one hundred twenty meters across its width. The entire system was powered by planetary energy, and its interior housed a production line with three sets of critical spare components.
At one end of the pool lay the gene material intake—simply feed in remains from animals or plants, and the production line would generate clones according to predetermined protocols.
What Fat Xu had transmitted was only the initial version of the gene pool. Pools with third-level access, like those used by Luan Shuangyu, were capable of elemental synthesis. At that level, one only needed to input a genetic blueprint and add natural elements; there was no need for biological material to create the desired clone.
“This is the Gene Pool spoken of by our god—a vessel with the power to resurrect the dead!”
The Yan clan, stationed around the landing site, witnessed the arrival of the gene pool with fervent excitement—their eyes ablaze with fanaticism.
Unlike the divine script previously bestowed by the Azure Mainframe, this time a holy artifact had descended directly!
Yan Qiluo herself was stunned by the appearance of the gene pool, her mind lost in a haze. She murmured, “Could it be that our world is truly a virtual one?”
“Clan leader, it’s time to fulfill the divine mandate!”
Noticing Yan Qiluo’s daze, one of her clan members, still relatively clear-headed, reminded her urgently.
“Right.”
With a slight sigh, Yan Qiluo slid off the back of the large white dog, withdrew a data disk from her pocket, and turned, saying, “I’ll go inside now!”
Within the twenty-seven star realms of the Leaving Sun Sector, all inherit the language and script of the main realm. As a bonded planet, Azure Star’s civilization was synchronized with the Leaving Sun Sector in linguistic terms.
Fat Xu’s instructions for operating the gene pool, along with the relevant indicators on the device itself, were readable to Yan Qiluo.
Still, as it was her first time operating the device, she spent half an hour before she successfully initiated the gene pool.
“Hurry, throw in all the evolved beasts!”
The Yan clan, long prepared, saw the intake indicator light blink and immediately carried the dead evolved beasts from earlier security sweeps to the intake. Soon after, they tossed in assorted bark and foliage.
Once the production line activated, the beasts and plant matter were devoured and transformed into an indescribable mass.
Following the preset protocol, Yan Qiluo imported the adjusted parameters and the pre-collected genetic blueprints.
Given their differing specialties, Ye Han was also witnessing this process for the first time.
Fortunately, Fat Xu had set up the operation mode; with a single click, everything proceeded as guided.
With preparations complete, Yan Qiluo pressed the start button.
Amid mechanical vibrations, in scarcely a minute, thirty clones clad in fiber-woven garments emerged from the opposite end of the gene pool.
Each body had a control chip implanted in the brain. The chip contained two preset programs: one, if an Azure Star human attacked a clone without subjective intent, the clone was forbidden from retaliating against humans; otherwise, the chip would automatically sever neural data. The second was a reserved port for future connection to a virtual platform—still under construction and not yet activated.
Gazing at the manufactured shells, Yan Qiluo paused in silence, as if coming to terms with something. Gradually, her resolve strengthened.
Her expression firm, she called out, “Why are you still standing there? Execute the divine command!”
“Understood!”
The Yan clan quickly entered the factory grounds, seated themselves cross-legged, and closed their eyes to interface with the chips implanted within them.
Azure Star had undergone five information revolutions; biological chips were long commonplace.
Following the original plan, they opened their personal data ports and imported Yan Qiluo’s revised parameters. In under a minute, the Yan clan completed their chip reboot.
The rebooted chips functioned much as before, still connecting to the Azure Mainframe, but now featured a new option for remote control.
Through this option, each could randomly receive an access code to link with the control chip inside a clone.
“They’re standing—standing up!”
The thirty clones, first off the assembly line, rose shakily under the remote control of the Yan clan. The bystanders erupted in excitement.
“Parameters are normal; just proceed with standard operation!”
Yan Qiluo exhaled slowly, watching her clansmen acclimate to their “new bodies.”
Recalling the divine descent earlier that day, she drifted into reverie.
After a while, Yan Qiluo’s eyes spun, her expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. Biting her tender tongue, she muttered, “That troublesome fellow—clearly local Azure natives can operate just fine, so why allow unknown outsiders to meddle?”
Pouting, Yan Qiluo’s adorable face puffed with indignation, making her look fiercely cute.
“You don’t understand—this is maximizing resources.”
Standing beside her, Ye Han chuckled at the little girl’s muttering, tapping her forehead with his finger.
Unfortunately, Ye Han was currently in a state of pure consciousness, unable to manifest physically without burning his essence, and she remained unaware.
“Azure can barely sustain itself, let alone cultivate these clones!”
Ye Han sighed. Ever since she began doubting whether reality was virtual, he had shadowed her, worried she might do something rash.
Seeing her return to normal and her mood stabilize, he finally felt at ease.
Such existential doubts could only be resolved by oneself.
“Wait two more hours—it should be about right.” Watching the clones enter the factory, Ye Han turned his attention elsewhere.
The first batch of clones, controlled by the Yan clan, was tasked with secretly moving the stockpile of virtual helmets from the warehouse.
It wasn’t just Ye Han making trouble for the Yan clan; without physical bodies, direct intervention would burn too much essence.
When Ye Han had arranged those relays on Earth, he had relied on physical bodies.
Using the talent “Spatial Leap” to affect reality didn’t consume essence.
A consciousness and a bonded planet’s physical object were like virtual and real—virtual authority was vast, but affecting reality required a medium.
Whether manifesting by burning essence on Azure, or using physical bodies on Earth, both served as mediators to some extent.
“But really, this girl is quite diligent.”
Glancing at Yan Qiluo, whose fingers flew over her work as she immersed herself in building the virtual platform, Ye Han nodded in satisfaction.
Anyone who faithfully completed his tasks deserved praise.
“Maybe I should give her a buff?”
Ye Han’s gaze fell upon his talent panel, lost in thought.
He currently possessed two talents—“Enlightenment” and “Spatial Leap.”
“Enlightenment” allowed him to select a sentient individual, temporarily increasing their intelligence limit by ten percent, with a one percent chance to trigger “Perpetual Benefit”—making the increase permanent.
“Spatial Leap” enabled him to open a temporary spatial channel for one second, depending on the strength of his consciousness within its extension range.
Both talents were inherited from his previous self.
Ye Han could use them himself, or burn ten million essence to bestow them upon native lifeforms on the bonded planet. However, success depended on the recipient’s comprehension, with only a one percent success rate.
“It’s pure luck!”
Ye Han eyed Yan Qiluo, hesitated, and ultimately chose not to risk it. She was too adorable—what if Lady Luck got jealous?
A woman’s jealousy, after all...
His essence reserves were limited, and with the college entrance exams looming, he wasn’t confident enough to gamble on a one percent chance.
“I’ll note down this merit for now—when I have more resources, I’ll give you a buff!”
In his heart, Ye Han drew a circle around Yan Qiluo’s name, sheepishly turning away.
The next two hours flew by.
After several twists and turns, the Yan clan finally managed to move the stockpile of virtual helmets from the warehouse.
Only 112 helmets were covertly transported, and two clones out of thirty were lost in the process.
Once Yan Qiluo had adjusted the helmet parameters, she followed Ye Han’s earlier instructions and stored them all in a single room.
After all helmets were gathered, Ye Han’s consciousness carefully inspected the containers, ensuring no other items or stowaways were present, before laying the interworld channel beneath the helmet containers.
Under the force of gravity, the containers dropped straight into the channel.
“Perfect!”
Watching over a hundred containers disappear into the channel, Ye Han snapped his fingers in delight. “Now to deliver these helmets to the ‘players’!”
With that, Ye Han switched his panel to Earth.
At the last moment before leaving, he cast one more glance at Yan Qiluo, still diligently building her platform.
…
The sky was dim, clouds shrouded in gray and oppressive gloom, exuding an indescribable eeriness.
The ground was strewn with severed limbs and corpses.
“What the hell, where am I?”
“Azure OL—damn, the note was telling the truth?”
“Are you kidding? This is way too realistic! How could Earth ever have such advanced technology?”
Before the gene pool, the previously vacant clones suddenly opened their eyes.
Their expressions varied—confusion, bewilderment, curiosity, astonishment, or calm.
Regardless of their initial feelings, upon turning to see the endless stream of bodies rolling off the production line, they were all struck by shock and terror.
“Damn, is this the Matrix?”
Cheng Xu swallowed his dry throat, fear in his eyes. “Could it be that we lived in a virtual world before, and this one is the real reality?”
Cheng Xu was an ordinary programmer, enduring the “996” grind. Aside from occasionally being scolded by his bald manager, his life was relatively smooth.
Five minutes ago, he’d returned to his rented room, riding his electric scooter, only to find a box at the door.
Opening it, he found first a note—not handwritten, but printed.
The note read: “Azure OL closed beta sincerely invites you to experience a 100% true-to-life magical reality of a new world.”
Just that one sentence, without even punctuation.
Beneath the note was a technologically advanced helmet.
Seeing the helmet, Cheng Xu chose to ignore how the box had arrived at his door.
After all, everyone was clamoring for helmets these days; resources were scarce. Saving a bit of money meant more treats for the office goddess, didn’t it?
With this mindset, Cheng Xu tossed the note aside and tried on the helmet.
And then... he ended up here.