Chapter 445: Nature Is Already Dead |
April 9, Suroma high-concentration microplastic injection station.
A long line formed at the station entrance. Many ordinary people had come for injections, hoping to gamble on that fifty-percent survival chance.
"God bless me, it has to work…"
"Whether it works is up to fate. Besides the bunkers, where can you find safe air? Microplastics are everywhere. Dragging it out is a dead end either way."
"I thought the same. I know several people who died of organ failure these past two days. They clearly didn’t come into contact with microplastics… I think aside from the air, the food and water might not be clean either."
People in line wore protective masks and whispered to each other, sharing their helplessness.
The rule had only been active for one third of its duration, yet they couldn't hold out. Rather than wait to die, they'd rather gamble on a fifty-percent plastification reaction survival rate.
If it worked, at least they'd survive this rule. As for the infertility side effect, that was another matter… if you didn't even have your life, who cared about whether you could reproduce.
"I made it! Haha!"
People entered through the left door; if you could come out through the right door, it meant your constitution had transformed successfully. If you couldn't come out… everyone knew the room behind the station connected to the morgue.
Those waiting further back compared the numbers of people entering and exiting and calculated that it really was a fifty percent chance: two people go in, on average one comes out…
Every populated city in Suroma had set up stations for people to use. Successful cases also posted their experiences online; many even wore full-plastic outfits to show their transformed constitutions.
One successful person posted on a forum: "When the plastification reaction happened it didn't hurt much, just felt my whole body ache for a minute or two. As for fertility… based on official test reports, the sperm of those who transformed seem to have lost activity, so it really does mean infertility."
Someone replied under the post: "Great, saves us the trouble of birth control in the future."
"Are you a poet upstairs?"
"OP, did you try eating raw plastic? I saw some successful people streaming themselves eating plastic plates!"
"For real? After plastification, can they really digest plastic?"
"Daring to eat raw plastic… gutsy. I don't think the Human Consortium released any related experiment reports."
As more people chose plastification, online discussion climbed steadily.
Many wanted to know whether, besides immunity to microplastic damage, transformed people gained any other traits.
At this moment in the Countermeasures Research Office, a related meeting was underway.
An experimental expert reported: "Based on data shared by the Human Consortium and our own experimental results, people who successfully undergo the plastification reaction will, over time, gradually develop digestive tolerance for plastic."
Hearing this, Gao Liangwei asked, "Gradually develop?"
"Yes. From the data, as time passes, those who reacted successfully show increasing ability to digest plastic. According to projections, after the rule ends these people might truly be able to digest plastic like ordinary food, but…"
The experimental expert paused, then said, "At the same time, these people’s ability to digest normal food is also weakening over time."
Those present fell silent in shock.
Originally everyone thought the plastification reaction’s side effect was only infertility. They had not expected an even more terrifying digestive side effect!
Gao Liangwei said gravely, "If that's the case, these people will certainly be ostracized by normal people."
"Yeah… someone who can only eat plastic would be really strange…"
"The Fire Thief always wanted to split humanity apart, so hateful!"
"Suroma’s Senate is absolutely maddening… of all the countries in the Human Consortium, it's the only decision-making body encouraging ordinary people to undergo plastification. It's basically saying they see ordinary people as a burden."
"Enough. The priority now is handling survival for our citizens under this rule." Gao Liangwei asked, "How are the shelters doing?"
The person in charge replied, "Because we responded quickly, as soon as the rule was announced we cleared all plastic artifacts from the shelters. Also, the shelter construction materials were mostly metal and concrete, with no plastic components, so the living environment is very safe."
Gao Liangwei looked at another person. "What about food?"
The head of the supplies department answered, "We can now reliably provide one clean meal per person per day. Water is harder. We can average less than one thousand milliliters per person, and that’s after using every available filtration method."
Due to storage differences, clean drinking water was scarcer than food. Obtaining sufficient supply at the source was difficult. They had to rely on various filtering devices, Mind Power items, and abilities to purify stored water as much as possible and reduce microplastic content.
Gao Liangwei suddenly remembered something and looked at Li Meng. "You said 'Shadow' provided a lot of clean drinking water?"
"Yes. For several days straight he’s been providing more than ten tons daily, meeting the drinking needs of more than a dozen shelters and tens of thousands of people."
Gao Liangwei nodded. "He's not an official Ascendant, so his contributions should be recorded separately. After the rule ends the research office will arrange recompense."
"I understand."
…
In the rainforest, Takahashi’s group had dwindled from over ten at departure to fewer than ten now.
At the newly established camp, everyone looked dejected, completely lacking the excitement and confidence they’d had when they left.
Many now deeply regretted leaving the city. In hindsight, they should have stayed and followed official arrangements with everyone else.
Here in the rainforest, the food was bad, sleep was poor, and the camp was frequently visited by insects and mosquitoes. Last night a venomous snake even swam past the front of the camp, scaring everyone into sleeplessness.
This reality had nothing to do with their romanticized idea of "primitive living." Only the team leader Takahashi, whose pre-rule occupation related to wilderness work, had few adaptation problems.
But the others found it hard to persist. After discussing it, they decided in the afternoon to find Takahashi and tell him they wanted to return.
"You want to go back?" Takahashi looked at them. "You're not staying in the rainforest?"
"No… we just can’t adapt to this caveman lifestyle. Sorry! Please take us back!"
"This life is way harder than we imagined. We thought we could just build small wooden huts and live off hunting and spring water. Turns out it’s nothing like that."
"…"
Takahashi was speechless and felt some resentment.
Over the past days he’d been guiding, setting up camp, cutting trees, taking care of everyone. He’d done the most work.
On top of that there had been deaths and even a homicide, leaving him exhausted.
Now that they’d finally settled in a decent spot, barely two days later these flaky people wanted to go back.
Seeing Takahashi’s anger, they tried to appease him with smiles.
"Sorry Takahashi. If we really couldn’t handle it we wouldn’t have asked you."
"We know this is unfair. We're really sorry!"
"When we return we’ll apologize properly!"
Takahashi saw they were determined, and even though he was reluctant, he had no choice.
Without his guidance, they might not even make it back. But if he refused and they didn't cooperate or work, he couldn't manage the camp alone.
"Fine." He sighed and agreed. "I’ll take you back. But it’s getting late. It’ll be dark soon. We’ll set off first thing tomorrow morning."
"Great!"
"Thank you, Takahashi!"
They happily dispersed to pack, clearly not wanting to stay another minute and planning to leave at dawn.
Takahashi packed his things too and looked at the camp he had built with a weary sigh.
After dark they ate and went to bed early. Around midnight violent coughing woke everyone.
A man and a woman couldn't control their coughing; it was so severe they couldn't speak—each time they opened their mouths they coughed, their faces turning purple. It didn't look like a common cold.
"Could microplastics have damaged their organs?" someone whispered.
"How is that possible? We're deep in the rainforest; where would microplastics come from?"
Everyone was close to breaking down; they refused to believe they could inhale microplastics in such a pristine rainforest, yet the scene before them…
"Don't panic. Let me see!"
Takahashi forced himself calm and stepped forward to check them. The two coughed in terror, afraid their symptoms really were from microplastic damage.
Takahashi examined their mouths and fingernails carefully. Seeing signs of purple discoloration, his heart sank.
He knew this was the most direct sign of bodily hypoxia, and hypoxia very likely meant lung problems.
Facing their anxious eyes, Takahashi hesitated and then said, "It should be nothing serious, maybe just a bad chill."
He couldn't tell the truth. If he did, everyone would despair.
Hearing this, the two coughed on but a gleam of hope flashed in their eyes.
The others breathed easier as well, though unease remained.
What a coincidence that two people contracted the same chill at the same time?
Through the long night no one could sleep; everyone sat wide-eyed.
The two continued coughing in bed. After some time their bodies suddenly convulsed. Their hands clawed wildly at the air, and urgent "ah ah" sounds came from their throats!
"He seems to be choking for air!"
"What do we do?!"
No one could help. They could only watch as the man suffocated to death. The coughing woman quickly followed.
Now everyone knew: it wasn't a chill. Only microplastic damage leading to lung failure could cause such sudden suffocation and death!
The camp erupted in panic. No one cared about the danger of traveling at night anymore; they had to return to the city immediately.
Takahashi was shaken by the deaths. He hadn't expected they wouldn't survive a single night and hurriedly led the team back.
The inky night devoured like a beast, but what was killing them wasn't the darkness—it was invisible microplastic spread in the air.
When the first rays of sunlight filtered into the rainforest, only one person had collapsed at the forest edge.
"Cough, cough cough…"
Takahashi coughed and looked toward the distant town. His face was bluish-purple, twisted by the night's fear.
The entire team had boiled down to him alone. The others had dropped mid-route from organ failure.
He knew this was his limit. The town in sight was now a distance he could no longer reach.
"Cough… why… why is this… cough cough…"
He couldn't understand. They had left the city to escape microplastics and enter the rainforest. Why had they died of organ failure from microplastic damage here?
What had gone wrong?
Takahashi sat down against a large tree and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his thigh, as if pricked by something pointy—like the corner of a packaging box.
He looked down, startled, then frantically dug with his hands.
As the soil under the tree was clawed open by his bloodied fingers, items began to appear: mineral water bottles, garbage bags, takeout boxes, rotten hoses, torn clothes…
"Plastic… cough cough… it's all plastic…"
Takahashi stared at the items he unearthed and spread his hands in a silent, bitter laugh.
What rainforest? It had long been a burial ground for nearby residents' trash. Who knew how much plastic had been buried under trees and soil? Microplastics shed from that garbage had long poisoned the land and pervaded the forest.
He struggled, using his last strength to scrawl a few crooked words in the mud.
Nature is already dead!