Super Mothership
Even if she completely abandoned her sense of shame and scraped the very bottom of her moral limits to shamelessly play the sympathy card, Codename still failed to recover her three months’ worth of bonus.
As for this unhealthy trend of daring to poke fun at one’s own boss, Nie Yun felt it was absolutely necessary to carry out an internal “rectification campaign.”
That said, Codename’s emotional template had been developing a bit faster than Nie Yun had expected.
Ever since acquiring a physical body, Codename’s way of thinking had rapidly converged toward that of a normal human. Not only had she developed a foodie trait, but her sense of self-awareness had grown stronger and stronger—and her personality had become increasingly devious and dark-hearted…
Of course, Nie Yun would never admit that this was a case of “you become like the company you keep.” It was definitely not because of his influence…
“Ahem… when a parent is busy outside conquering cities and making money to marry a stepmother, it’s only natural that the daughter left at home grows up wild and develops a twisted personality… Mm! That must be it. Lax discipline—what a painful lesson!”
Father Nie clutched his chest in anguish and unleashed the ultimate weapon in every dad’s arsenal—cutting off allowance!
But as the saying goes, if you can’t get allowance, then you’re definitely asking for it the wrong way!
Who was Codename? The Ghost Captain’s top brain and chief intelligence officer! Would a mere allowance really stump her?
Following behind Nie Yun, Codename quietly opened her online account to check her balance…
Mm… good thing she’d left herself quite a bit of money to pay off Huabei…
Now, which stock was about to soar…
…
Going to Chu Xiaoxiao’s place was out of the question for now, so Nie Yun took Codename for a casual stroll around the Atlantis headquarters building.
The Atlantis Lunar Headquarters was divided into four departments: the Commercial Division, Research Division, Security Division, and Administrative Division, each housed in one of the four towers of the spiral-shaped complex.
Among them, the highest-security and most core area was undoubtedly the Research Division—the permanent real-world base of Old Yu and the other scientists.
“Boss!” Upon hearing that Nie Yun had arrived unexpectedly, Old Yu personally came to greet him at the entrance.
At this moment, Old Yu was no longer in his hobbit-like appearance; instead, he had returned to the image of a white-haired elder!
Looking at the youthful, white-haired Old Yu before him, Nie Yun smiled and asked, “How do you feel?”
“Excellent—no, better than excellent!” Old Yu’s face glowed as he spoke about his current physical condition.
“My cellular activity is at the peak of my life, and my physical strength is about twice that of a normal adult man. I feel like I could borrow another hundred years from the heavens! Hahaha!
Of course, this is all thanks to the boss sparing no expense and using that precious Water of Life. Looks like I can only sell myself to you for the rest of my life,” Old Yu joked.
“It’s nothing, nothing! Hahaha!” Nie Yun waved his hand, equally pleased.
When it came to human body modification, who was the best?
Doctor Nie—who possessed a complete “human template”—was absolutely peerless in this era.
After absorbing a vast amount of biological technology from the Kara civilization—especially research related to the Water of Life—Nie Yun’s already cutting-edge body modification techniques had leapt forward once again.
The greatest breakthrough among them was the conquest of stem cell regeneration technology!
Stem cells are special cells with self-replication abilities and extremely strong differentiation potential. Under certain conditions, they can differentiate into various functional cells.
In theory, with just a small number of stem cells, one could cultivate most of the tissues and organs of the human body.
The Kara people’s “super regeneration ability” fundamentally stemmed from a special type of activated stem cell within their bodies, capable of rapidly differentiating into damaged organs or even missing limbs—similar to a gecko regrowing its tail.
Moreover, this regenerative ability could also generate large numbers of new active cells to replace aging ones, maintaining long-term bodily vitality. This was the secret behind the Kara people’s long lifespan.
The body modification Old Yu had undergone this time was precisely the latest result derived from studying the mysteries of the Kara body.
By using the powerful effects of the Water of Life to stimulate the potential of human stem cells, restoring their ability to divide into various organ tissues, a complete rebirth-level repair of the entire body could be achieved—including nerve cells, which were notoriously difficult to regenerate!
This kind of full-body repair did not consume much energy; only a diluted solution of the Water of Life was required.
Naturally, the more used, the better the effect.
Moreover, the process was gentle and far safer than Nie Yun’s “gene backflow” technique.
The difference was that the Kara people acquired this miraculous ability because their ancestors had once been bathed in massive amounts of the Water of Life. After long ages of genetic optimization, it eventually became a racial trait.
Nie Yun’s stem cell regeneration technology, however, currently relied entirely on “cheating” with the Water of Life.
Some had proposed whether it might be possible to replicate the Kara people’s genetic optimization miracle and grant humans a new racial talent.
But evolution is a long process, full of uncertainty. Without confidence, Nie Yun did not dare recklessly alter the human genome.
After all… what if people turned green?
“Old Yu, why do you still look exactly the same as when I last saw you? Why not make yourself look a bit younger?” Nie Yun asked as they walked inside.
“Hehe! Attractive skins are all alike; interesting souls are one in a thousand.”
“Oh? Refined taste!” Nie Yun said in surprise.
As expected of a titan devoted to scientific research—his level of ideological enlightenment was far beyond that of ordinary losers.
“Ahem! Just so-so, just so-so… haha…” Old Yu laughed it off awkwardly.
At this moment, Codename, who was following behind, suddenly leaned in and whispered to Nie Yun,
“Boss, you don’t know this, but Old Yu originally wanted to remodel himself into a twenty-year-old stud, and even asked for a ‘Wu Yanzu edition’ beauty package. Unfortunately, his wife found out…”
Nie Yun’s mouth twitched.
This old fox—his body might be old, but his heart sure wasn’t!
Old Yu’s physical condition had improved dramatically, and his hearing was now extremely sharp. Naturally, he heard Codename’s tattling and immediately flushed red, hurriedly changing the subject.
“Ahem! Boss, this way please. Let me show you around our experimental base.”
Old Yu led Nie Yun down a long corridor. On both sides were dozens of laboratories of various sizes, fully visible through floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Numerous assistants and small robotic units in white lab coats moved busily back and forth, efficient and nonstop.
“Why does it feel so deserted? Where is everyone else?” Nie Yun asked, puzzled by the somewhat empty labs.
There were plenty of robotic assistants, but not a single human in sight.
“Oh, this area is mainly for relatively safe small-scale experiments. Most people usually run all over the solar system using virtual reality. And today just happens to be a major experiment, so basically everyone went to watch the excitement,” Old Yu explained with a smile.
With Nie Yun’s unwavering support, the resources consumed by the research department were second only to massive construction projects—it was a veritable gold-devouring beast.
A single moon was nowhere near enough for this bunch of mad scientists to wreak havoc for more than a couple of days.
Research into high-risk fields such as biotechnology, nuclear energy, quantum mechanics, and spacetime could easily cause catastrophic environmental damage if something went wrong. Such work required isolated and secure environments—sometimes even an entire celestial body of its own.
For example, Jupiter’s moon Callisto, once a battlefield, had now become Nie Yun’s largest biochemical experimentation base.
With “brain-chip hacks” enabled, the scientists gleefully set up research institutes all across the solar system. They even established the first stellar thermonuclear reaction observation laboratory directly on the surface of a star.
Hundreds of laboratories—large and small—were scattered throughout the solar system. While each individual lab consumed fewer resources than major construction projects, together they added up to an astronomical drain.
If not for Nie Yun’s tireless mechanical insects handling infrastructure construction everywhere, even massive patent revenues from the resulting technologies wouldn’t be enough to plug such a hole.
This no-expense-spared investment paid off in a continuous stream of technological breakthroughs.
Technologies acquired from multiple alien civilizations were reworked and integrated into Earth’s technological system, gradually entering large-scale application. Third Crescent City was one of the products of this comprehensive technological advancement.
“What kind of experiment is so interesting that everyone ran off to watch?” Nie Yun asked curiously.
“Oh, it’s an experiment on the ‘upper limit of spatial distortion under an ultra-gravity field.’”
Ultra-gravity field spatial distortion?
Uh… why did that sound so familiar? Nie Yun’s heart skipped a beat.
These guys weren’t trying to create a black hole, were they?
“Sounds pretty dangerous,” Nie Yun frowned.
“Please rest assured, Boss! We’ve conducted extensive and meticulous data analysis. Absolutely nothing can go wrong—guaranteed foolproof!” Old Yu thumped his chest.
At that moment, Codename suddenly chimed in.
“Report, Boss. About half a minute ago, a high-energy reaction occurred at Experimental Base T108 within the asteroid cluster. The base signal has disappeared. Nearby space probes indicate the base has suffered catastrophic destruction.”
Nie Yun’s eye twitched as he cast a sideways glance at the dumbfounded Old Yu.
This is what you call foolproof?
Sure enough, before long, a stream of angry shouting echoed from the depths of the corridor.
“Damn it! Old Liang, who told you to raise the energy cap by 20%?! Now look at this—it blew up again!”
“Uh… I thought the experimental results looked promising, and opportunities don’t wait…” another voice replied weakly.
The air fell silent for a long moment.
Old Yu could only cough awkwardly.
“Ahem… well, Boss, rest assured. If nothing else, our safety measures are definitely solid. There will absolutely be no casualties!”
Nie Yun: “……”
From billions of kilometers away—go on then, try having a casualty, you bastard!
TL Note- Progress...
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