The diary-style introduction in the opening of Fish Soup Noodles’ new book immediately caused an uproar among the first wave of readers.
This was reflected in the skyrocketing data on Huanyu’s backend. The number of comments alone shattered the historical record for the highest number of comments on a new book’s opening day across the entire platform.
New comments flooded in at an astonishing rate every second.
“Is the first chapter of Fish Soup Noodles’ new book really that sensational, or are the fans just more enthusiastic than ever?”
The deputy chief editor hadn’t even had time to click into the main text. Seeing the numbers surge across the board, he was both surprised and delighted.
After all, it had only been a few dozen seconds since the release. Most readers probably hadn’t even finished the first chapter, yet the data was already exploding.
If it had been any other author, suspicions of buying data would have arisen.
However, in the editorial office where everyone was working overtime tonight, the deputy chief editor noticed something unusual. The moment he finished speaking, the entire office had fallen silent.
“?”
“Why isn’t anyone saying anything? Hey, why are you all huddled together like that? What’s going on?”
The deputy chief editor was surprised to find that several editors had subconsciously gathered close to each other, their heads almost touching as they continued staring at their light brains.
Meanwhile, Shaxs, who was now surrounded by a group of coworkers, was the only one who remained relatively composed, like a mother hen surrounded by fluffy chicks.
“Deputy Chief Editor, you should check out Teacher Fish Soup Noodles’ new book. Let’s just say, this reaction makes perfect sense.”
Shaxs’ response made the deputy chief editor scoff. He wasn’t one to back down, he had to see for himself what the fuss was about!
Could this new book be so sweet and touching that it deepened friendships? Was it the kind of story that made people want to cuddle while reading?
A few dozen seconds later, the deputy chief editor’s expression changed and his back was already damp with sweat.
If not for the flood of comments keeping everyone company and the warmth from each other, this would’ve been really terrifying…
“I think I’m sleeping in the office tonight. I refuse to go home alone after work!”
One editor was on the verge of tears, only to be immediately grabbed by the deputy chief editor, who clung to his arm just as desperately.
The camaraderie in the office had never been so strong and united as it was now.
“But I still want to keep reading! What is going on?! And the protagonist, Si Yao, has such an interesting personality, it’s completely different from any of Fish Soup Noodles’ previous books.”
After all, any normal person should be afraid of this light brain that couldn’t be discarded, right?
Yet Si Yao actually found it interesting! Instead of throwing it away, he became even more intrigued!
Was this even normal human thinking?
“I agree, let’s keep reading! If we stay together, we won’t be scared!”
“Yeah, yeah! I’m mainly curious about the plot development! It’s definitely not because I want to see how handsome Experiment No. 114 is!”
A bunch of terrified yet eager readers excitedly flipped to the next page.
At this point, the diary format ended, and the main text officially began.
[[It turned out that Si Yao’s workplace was an extremely mysterious, Federation-level research institute.
Every year, only a select few top-tier research universities in the Federation star system received special recruitment slots.
The institute offered unbelievably generous benefits, an exceptionally high administrative ranking, and extremely strict hiring requirements, making it a coveted yet mysterious legend.
It was rumored that only a handful of elite specialists were chosen each year, while the vast majority of applicants never even received an invitation or an interview.
However, once these top-tier scientists entered, they seemed to vanish without a trace.
When Si Yao received the job offer, he didn’t display the same excitement as the other candidates around him.
Instead, he quietly observed his Senior Brother Moers, who was giving the presentation on stage.
Back in his day, Senior Moers had been a legendary figure. He was outgoing, eloquent, and always in control during public speeches.
But now, something about him seemed… off.
His speech pattern had become strangely irregular. He paused subtly every few words, his gaze dull and sluggish. From time to time, he unconsciously tugged at the high collar of his suit.
What had caused this change?
Si Yao soon realized the answer. Most of the recruited scientists, once sent to this isolated star known as the “Nest”, might never have another chance to communicate with the outside world again.
Every top-tier researcher who entered this place, no matter how brilliant or talented they were before, would become nothing more than an inexhaustible worker ant in a colony.
They would be trapped in the narrow field assigned to them by the intelligent system, conducting endless, exhaustive research and exploration.
Those with low-level clearance would never see or understand the broader purpose of their life-long research until they suffered a mental breakdown and were taken away and disappeared.
A neural chip would also be implanted at the back of each person’s neck. All aspects of their daily lives, from what they ate, wore, used, or where they lived, would be managed through data interactions.
As a result, every action and thought could be monitored.
“Beep! D-level clearance. Good morning, Assistant Researcher Si. Next.”
The next moment, Si Yao, who was standing in line, faced the heavy laboratory door that opened automatically. As the chip activated his clearance, he stepped into his designated workstation.
If one zoomed out at this moment, they would see that in this massive, streamlined, white, egg-shaped futuristic structure, countless blurred faces had long lost any sense of individuality.
Identical hairstyles. Identical white coats. Identical glasses. Even their walking pace was nearly the same.
It resembled a grand yet absurd feast of clones.]]
By the time readers reached this part, everyone could not help but feel a strange unease.
[Fuck, I’m seriously about to call the authorities. There’s actually an organization here secretly imprisoning science and technological talents and implanting chips in their bodies, ahhhh! Isn’t this a severe violation of research ethics?!]
If the diary entries at the beginning had conveyed a clear and tangible sense of horror, then the current story background was even more terrifying when thought about carefully.
Implanting chips into scientists, monitoring their vital signs and thoughts…such actions would be considered an evil and terrorist act under federal interstellar law.
It meant exposing a person completely to surveillance, leaving no room for privacy.
Could such beings still be called human?
It would be more accurate to say these scientists had been turned into research machines.
This was nothing short of a pure, interstellar version of a science fiction horror story.
The fact that this mysterious scientific research star was named “Nest” only made it feel even more eerie from beginning to end.
[If this planet is a nest, then what exactly lives inside it? Could it be some kind of unspeakable monster?! O皿O#]
[Wait a minute, something’s not right. If everything is monitored and no one can leave, how did Si Yao manage to secretly pick up a light brain and even try to study it?! And what was that previous experimental subject?!]
[Plus, Si Yao only has D-level clearance! The fact that he was able to write a diary before suggests that he might be different from the others?]
Noticing all these strange details, the interstellar readers frantically flipped to the next page, only to discover a new illustration had been added.
As always, the cool and elegant ink-like lines depicted a giant egg-shaped futuristic building, exuding a strong sense of sci-fi. Walking through it were countless scientists who looked nearly identical, as if they were clones.
Their faces were eerily similar, their blank, dazed expressions subtly uniform.
But there was one difference!
[I see Si Yao! He’s right in the center! He’s the only one who’s different!!]
Among the crowd, only Si Yao retained a faint trace of liveliness in his expression. It was almost imperceptible, yet undeniably there.
[Help, Si Yao really isn’t scared at all. If I were walking in this group, I’d probably go insane in the next second. It feels like working alongside a bunch of non-human beings.]
[And seriously, every protagonist in Teacher Fish Soup Noodles’ books is always so handsome. Why does Si Yao’s looks and temperament hit my ideal type so perfectly? How does Teacher Fish Soup Noodles know exactly what I like?!]
[Same here! I’m starting to suspect Teacher Fish Soup Noodles installed a surveillance chip in me too. Hurry up and remove it, I have absolutely no resistance to this kind of cool and beautiful scientist! TwT]
With the detailed descriptions in the first chapter and the well-timed illustrations, the image of the protagonist, Si Yao, gradually took shape in the readers’ minds.
His features were extremely good looking, yet his personality was unusually cold.
However, from his diary entries and internal monologues, it was clear that Si Yao possessed an unparalleled curiosity and a strong desire to explore the strange, inexplicable phenomena around him.
Thinking about it carefully, this character setting was actually quite dangerous and thrilling…
Of course, if Yu Mian, the author, had to explain it, what was the point of a protagonist of a horror novel if they weren’t beautiful and a little dark?
They had to be more terrifying than any of the horrors around them. That was what made it fun.
And if the goal was to make interstellar readers immediately grasp the horror element in the first dungeon, then naturally, an “evil experiment” setting was the perfect choice.
[But this puts me in a tough spot, I’m absolutely terrified, but I love this kind of protagonist! Damn it, I’m being seduced by beauty into reading further!]
[No problem, I grabbed my light brain and ran to my mom’s room to read. As long as she’s nearby, I feel like I can stay detached and not get too immersed…]
By this point, most readers had completely forgotten they initially came for a warm and healing story. Instead, they were drawn deeper into the eerie and mysterious plot.
They were scared but couldn’t stop reading, how despairing.
[Guys, please leave more comments. If the comment section is crowded, I won’t be scared. I can just imagine I’m reading this in a bustling marketplace, brilliant, absolutely brilliant!]
[Move over, move over! Let me squeeze in too! If I’m in a crowd, I won’t be scared, I swear!]
Meanwhile, many of the speculations in the comments gradually started being confirmed in the story.
It turned out that after entering “Nest”, Si Yao’s relatively stable mental state and his ability to always achieve just the bare minimum for promotion had allowed him to climb step by step, gaining higher clearance and a more significant role.
The entire Nest housed an uncountable number of F-level researchers. F-level was equivalent to disposable consumables, easily replaced and granted zero freedom.
But the higher the clearance, the more access the system granted to one’s neural chip. Once someone advanced from F-level to D-level, their status in the research facility would undergo a fundamental shift.
Because there were only a few dozen D-level researchers in the entire Nest.
C-level had only a handful.
B-level had just one.
As for A-level, no one even knew if it existed.
Within the Nest, high-ranking researchers were wary of each other and maintained a significant distance. This sense of detachment, however, provided Si Yao the opportunity to make certain modifications.
[[In the dimly lit laser processing room, Si Yao lowered his head, his hands nervously feeling the back of his neck.
If someone were standing behind him at that moment, they would have been shocked to find that despite being unable to see anything, his artist-like fingers moved with remarkable dexterity and steadiness, skillfully dismantling and modifying the chip embedded in his neck.
10, 9, 8… 1, 0.
Silently counting down in his mind, he reached the final second…
“What are you doing, Associate Researcher Si?”
The next moment, the white doors of the laser processing room suddenly slid open. Two red scanning beams swept across the room, instantly locking onto Si Yao.
A giant, faceless robot Overseer stood at the entrance, its cold gaze fixed on him.
“Processing the latest batch of K7362 AI components. The defect rate in this batch has been unusually high.”
Si Yao pressed the final piece into place and turned around as calmly as possible, revealing the mechanical parts behind him.
Three seconds later, the machine reclassified the situation as safe.
The glaringly dangerous red light shifted to green.
Perhaps the temporary signal disruption had merely been caused by cosmic radiation.
After all, even the Nest couldn’t fight against the mysteries of the universe.
“Experimental Subject 114 requires your documentation today. You are 30 seconds late. Ten points will be deducted from your credit score for this month.”
The cold mechanical voice sounded again. Upon hearing this, Si Yao silently stepped out the door.
A credit score below 60 would be flagged as abnormal and subject to review.
But losing 10 points was worth it.
As the system initiated another scan, Si Yao’s newly modified identity chip was successfully activated. Everything appeared normal.]]
[Ah, help! When that robot Overseer suddenly appeared at the door, I nearly died of fright! Does it not know basic manners? Knock, damn it!]
