Chapter 149 — Containment

Although it had been decided that the "divine specimen" could not be returned to the Shadow Realm, exactly where to contain it was a major problem. Storing it within the territory was out of the question—this thing was nothing like an ordinary excavated artifact, and certainly not like the Nikkisi egg, that harmless lump of iron. The very existence of a deity's tissue cells was lethal to mortals; even a single close glance could leave a person dead or mad. It had to be kept far from any population, and at the same time it had to remain under his complete control.

After much thought, it seemed the mountain ruins themselves were the best containment site.

Gao Yang brought out the map Byron had drawn and soon found a place that met his requirements: in the middle level of the ruins, along the great gallery, near the southwest corner, there was a vast empty room that had once been a laboratory, and was therefore sturdy and easy to guard.

More importantly, that room stood a considerable distance from the circular hall.

He did not know whether anything in the hall still resonated with the flesh of a god, but putting distance between the two would at least put his mind somewhat at ease.

Pointing at the map, Gao Yang gave his orders: "Store the thing in this room, wrapped in opaque cloth or sealed in a box. From now on, under no circumstances whatsoever—unless I am present—is the specimen to be left uncovered. Not a single fragment may be exposed to the eyes of ordinary people. Hedy, the magical door of that room is already damaged; go and reset its mechanisms so that no one can open it at will. That room is to be a 'forbidden zone' from this day forward. No one is to enter without my permission."

Byron and Hedy nodded in assent. Then Byron asked, "My lord, shall we leave guards outside the room?"

Gao Yang nodded. "Two guards, plus two more squads to rotate with them. The room must be watched twenty-four hours a day. And pick only the most reliable soldiers, to keep any over-curious fool from going in and getting himself killed."

"Yes."

When those instructions were finished, Gao Yang let out a breath, though his heart was not much lighter.

He thought he was beginning to understand what Viscount Andrew had felt back then—digging up a great treasure only to find it a hot potato.

A sample of a god's flesh—there was no need even to think about how great a storm such a thing could raise in this world. The power, knowledge, and wealth it could bring were immeasurable, and so too was the danger. In his previous life, Gao Yang had not been a man fond of risk. Left to his own nature, upon digging up something like this he would have wanted to throw it as far away as possible—better still, toss it to some poor fool (a certain cult organization, say). But now his nature had changed, more or less.

He simply could not control his curiosity about "gods," especially now that he realized the "gods" had likely already become entangled with him. That curiosity was even harder to restrain.

Those flesh tissues would be suppressed by him. The gods had probably died at the hands of a powerful civilization that possessed a fleet. His own crossing over had most likely attached him to a satellite, and that satellite might well be a relic left by that powerful civilization—so his suppression of the divine flesh was probably connected to his identity as a "satellite spirit." On the other hand, the Eternal Slate recorded the truth that the gods were dead, and the Slate itself had shown peculiar properties in the process of establishing a connection with him. Thinking of the crystal embedded in that fragment of the Slate, it might also be a relic of that powerful civilization...

As for why the Eternal Slate—which ought to have been the "god-slayer's artifact"—instead carried the knowledge of the gods and brought religious revelation to the mortals of this planet, that was something Gao Yang still could not work out.

Gao Yang had a vague sense that he was already caught up in all of this, unable to escape, and one might even say he was no longer merely caught in the vortex—he was part of the vortex himself.

"What happened here today must be kept secret," Gao Yang said in a low voice, looking at Sir Byron. "Byron, you and your men continue to explore these ruins, but the moment you find any place similar in style to this one, seal it off immediately and wait for me to confirm it in person. This is to keep you from accidentally coming into contact with things related to the gods."

Byron bowed his head deeply. "I understand, my lord."

"Ancestor, these original manuscripts..." Hedy pointed at the originals that had been gathered on a table nearby—those ancient parchments recording the mad ravings of some lunatic. "Shall we take them back, or what?"

Gao Yang glanced at the manuscripts, then could not help looking at the blood-red skeleton on the ground nearby, rapidly decomposing and dissipating. He had already vaguely guessed where those manuscripts had come from: most likely they were left by this very monster.

Long ago, the Gondo Empire had conducted human experiments here, producing many failed test subjects. When they withdrew, most of the subjects had been destroyed, but some seemed to have been left directly in their culture vessels—sealed rather than burned, perhaps for some research purpose. But clearly, those researchers who left never returned.

Yet one test subject sealed in its vessel had not died. On the contrary, sustained by the influence of the divine flesh within the experimental apparatus, it had survived to this very day, and in the process had developed special abilities—enough to escape the culture tank and achieve a degree of free movement.

At one point it had even retained the capacity for thought.

But no matter what it had once been, it was now nothing more than a pile of remains slowly breaking down.

"Seal them away together with this sealing crystal," Gao Yang decided at last. "This crystal cube is named the Primordial Specimen, designated Number One. The manuscripts will be Derivative One of the Primordial Specimen. If we find similar eerie things in the ruins in the future, they are to be numbered and stored by the same rule."

By the time the business in the mountain ruins was settled and Gao Yang returned to the territory, it was already night.

Bright magic-crystal lamps had been lit along the territory's main roads and at several important sites.

Thanks to the realization of the magic net technology and the trial operation of the new "Hive Magic Net" in certain key areas, the territory was no longer as it had been at the start, when after nightfall it could rely only on torches and braziers for light. Now, in the various factories, research facilities, night-school districts, and along the main roads, magic crystals kept alight all night by the magic net's steady supply brought enduring, stable illumination—and nighttime lighting was a crucial guarantee for the territory's accelerated development.

Without cheap, stable, and reliable nighttime illumination, people could only work by day, and many projects requiring round-the-clock operation could not be undertaken at all; night-school education and factory assembly lines would both suffer for it. On Earth, the advent of the electric light had brought about a sea change in how people worked and lived, turning human civilization into a mighty machine that ran day and night without pause. In this world, high-quality nighttime lighting technology had in fact long existed—artificially synthesized illumination crystals were not especially expensive. The only thing holding it back was the backwardness of energy.