Chapter Eight: The Importance of the Red Queen

Holy Tang Group?

When Zhu Lan saw this name, his face was full of bitter amusement. He wasn’t a fool; upon seeing this, how could he not realize Tang Xuejian’s identity?

“Miss Tang, you truly are full of surprises!”

She giggled. “It was my father’s arrangement back then, please don’t take it amiss!”

“How could I dare!” Zhu Lan replied with a wry smile. Holy Tang Group! This was the most powerful company in the province, ranking among the top fifty in the country, with assets exceeding a hundred billion. It controlled thirteen percent of the nation’s maritime shipping, holding significant shares in real estate, food, pharmaceuticals, and road construction.

The name alone might not mean much to most. But the Holy Tang Group was founded twenty-five years ago, and fifteen years ago, after shifting its focus to roads and pharmaceuticals, it developed at lightning speed. In these fifteen years, ninety-five percent of all roads in the province were built by this conglomerate. Moreover, they held toll rights for eighty percent of those roads, earning over fifty billion annually just from toll fees.

As for Holy Tang Pharmaceuticals, it was famous across the nation. Aside from one state-backed competitor, Holy Tang was the undisputed leader in the industry, often referred to as the hidden overlord. The chairman was said to have been a bodyguard for Elder Deng in his youth, and, motivated by reform and the need for pioneers, he founded the group—his surname Tang, and his ambition to make his company flourish like the golden age of the Tang Dynasty.

Holy Tang contributed over ten percent to the province’s entire economy each year. For a single company to have such an impact was staggering.

The business card in Zhu Lan’s hand, for "Luoxue Company," was clearly a subsidiary of Holy Tang, and its influence could easily reach the upper echelons of the city’s government.

Tang Xuejian was the general manager, and the chairman shared her surname—how could Zhu Lan not realize she was a member of the Tang family?

“All right, Miss Tang, what did you call me here for?”

Hearing his question, Tang Xuejian’s expression turned solemn. She set aside her earlier levity. “Mr. Zhu Lan, I’m here as a representative of Luoxue, making a sincere invitation for you to join us.”

Zhu Lan was momentarily taken aback, then shook his head helplessly. He had studied biology, but lacked connections and had never been able to find suitable work. Thus, he’d joined an advertising firm in the city with Qin Sisi. In just one year, he’d become a renowned advertising expert—every deal he touched succeeded, and his reputation soared. But due to Qin Sisi, he left the industry to do manual labor, and his fame soon faded.

Hearing Tang Xuejian’s offer, Zhu Lan understood immediately. She wasn’t seeking him out for his sake, but rather because he happened to fit her company’s needs—once they’d discovered him, she’d reached out.

“I’m sorry, I’m currently starting my own business. As for your invitation, I’m afraid I must decline.”

Tang Xuejian wasn’t surprised by his refusal; she had already investigated his circumstances before coming.

“Zhu Lan, I know about your company. Frankly, I don’t think it has much promise. What I’m offering you is the position of Marketing Director, with an annual salary of three million.” Tang Xuejian tried to tempt him with a high salary.

Zhu Lan was tempted for a moment, but quickly steadied himself. If she had come a month earlier, perhaps he would have agreed. But now, with the Fantasy System, he had far greater possibilities. Three million no longer held any appeal for him. In fact, not even thirty million or three hundred million could sway him—if he really wanted money, he could simply retrieve a few suitcases of cash from the scenes of various domestic films, and he’d be a multi-millionaire instantly.

He shook his head. Tang Xuejian frowned slightly. “Why?” Her tone had changed.

Without answering, Zhu Lan stood, picked up the cage. “I’m still young; I want to try my own path. We’ll meet again some other time.” With that, he walked out, feeling a mix of emotions. Of all the outcomes he’d imagined, he hadn’t expected this, and left with a sense of disappointment.

Tang Xuejian’s expression shifted several times, but she didn’t stop him. Only when his figure vanished at the end of the street did she sigh and turn away.

Back at home, Zhu Lan handed the five wolf pups to Yu Dongming, and returned to his place with the mutated pup. He found some old clothes and a few planks, building a simple little den. Placing the pup inside, he saw how unsettled it was by the unfamiliar environment, shrinking into the farthest corner.

With a smile, Zhu Lan said, “From now on, your name will be Snowy.”

As for the mutated wolf pup, Zhu Lan had better plans. Having studied biology, he knew that mutation provided an excellent research subject. He also recalled several films featuring highly advanced biotechnology. Since Snowy was a mutated wolfdog, perhaps its genes could be further enhanced—after all, wolfdogs weren’t the strongest creatures.

The existence of the Fantasy System had already proven that other civilizations existed in the vast universe. If other civilizations existed, had Earth, in its billions of years, ever been visited by them? Could legends be real?

From the information about the Fantasy System’s star cluster, Zhu Lan discovered that, once science reached a certain level, one could strengthen body and mind through training—was this, perhaps, another form of cultivation?

He couldn’t be certain. But if such cultivation existed, those who practiced it would surely be stronger than ordinary people. And if others like that appeared, he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to handle them. He might have access to a virus, but it was from the first Resident Evil film—a flawed version. If he tried to merge with it, he could only pray for a one-in-a-billion chance, like Alice.

And even if the scenario were real, there was no guarantee that merging with the virus would make him a match for such beings. He had to prepare on multiple fronts. If such people did not exist, he would lose nothing by preparing in advance; and besides, some people required special measures.

He placed some meat and water before the doghouse, then returned to his desk, powered on his computer, and opened Resident Evil I again, pausing at the scene with the Red Queen’s control room. Shaking his head with helplessness, he muttered, “As expected, it won’t work.”

He had tried to envelop the entire room, but could only sense less than one percent of it—his mental power was still far too weak.

“It seems I have no choice but to give up.” He gazed regretfully at the Red Queen in the film. That intelligent computer was what he wanted most.

The Red Queen was designed by Umbrella Corporation specifically for virus research; her memory banks surely contained the most comprehensive biotechnological data of that world. If he could acquire her, Zhu Lan was confident he could build a colossal company. After all, Umbrella was the world’s top pharmaceutical company in Resident Evil, receiving massive funding every year.

Calculating based on the world’s top pharmaceutical companies, Umbrella’s annual medical revenue alone would be at least five hundred billion—in dollars. Their research was undoubtedly formidable. If he could get his hands on it, he’d never have to worry about what products to develop.

Although Zhu Lan was a biology major, his focus had been microbiology. That specialty gave him little insight into pharmaceuticals or biotechnological equipment, which was why he sought the Red Queen and her vast trove of data.

Viruses could be considered the pinnacle of biological evolution. For the Red Queen to simulate virus development, she would have to be equipped with a wealth of data—only then could the process be advanced.

“To give up now?” Zhu Lan muttered to himself. He had no way to obtain the Red Queen and could only look elsewhere.

There were many movies featuring intelligent computers, but only the Red Queen was suitable. Skynet from Terminator was out of the question—there was never any clear depiction of its mainframe, and without the mainframe, a mere terminal was useless.

As for artificial intelligence robots, those were possible, but their mechanical intricacy was beyond what he could handle. He’d once tried to bring out an armored vehicle, but failed—let alone a robot like those in I, Robot or Robopocalypse, or even domestic films like Robot Knight. There were many AIs to choose from.

But there was an issue. If he brought a robot AI out of a movie, he couldn’t guarantee it would be a blank slate, or even controllable. The power of such robots needed no explanation, and with his current abilities, he’d have no means to resist them. If a robot harbored any ill will, it could spell disaster for both himself and the world.

That was why, from the outset, Zhu Lan had chosen to pursue an intelligent computer rather than a robot. He was a biology student and knew nothing of mechanics, much less artificial intelligence. There might be experts in the world, but with his abilities, he couldn’t hope to attract or even meet such people.

Moreover, with AI robots, he couldn’t trust anyone else. His only option to control them would be to modify their source code via an intelligent computer. That was why he wanted the Red Queen first, rather than an AI robot, which was technically easier to obtain.

Suddenly, space twisted, and a pistol materialized before him, along with several magazines.

“Damn it, my hands are too quick!” Zhu Lan stared at the black pistol, glinting coldly, and smacked himself.

He’d only meant to retrieve a bundle of 1990s US dollars, but somehow the pistol beside the cash had caught his eye and he’d brought it out. He regretted it instantly.

A gun! This was illegal.

With trembling hands, he picked up the pistol.

No man is immune to the allure of firearms. Zhu Lan had often thought about holding a gun, but had never dared. And now, here he was, with a pistol in his hands.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. Nervously, he glanced around, worried someone might see him.

Following what he’d learned from movies and television, he gingerly fiddled with the pistol for hours before finally hiding it in a secret spot and, still anxious, went to bed.