Chapter 30 Nutrient Solution

Chapter 30: Nutrient Agent

Ji An took out the jade and the core experimental data and handed them to Wu Youyang. "This is for you. Entrust the core data to your most trusted student, and let the others handle the supplementary work."

"How can this be? This is the core data!" Wu Youyang was overwhelmed. He hadn’t expected to gain access to the core data so soon, thinking it would take much longer.

Ji An waved it off casually. "My path stretches far ahead. Spatial technology isn't the end of my experiments—it's just the beginning. It will eventually become a minor milestone in my scientific journey, nothing worth hoarding.

"Besides, my next research topic is entirely different. I don’t want to waste any more time on a project that’s already achieved mature results."

Wu Youyang remained cautious. "How about this—I’ll oversee the core data and delegate the rest to the students."

Ji An nodded. "I’ll be focusing on something else. You’ll be my assistant."

Wu Youyang hadn’t anticipated such immediate trust and responsibility after joining Ji An. His heart swelled with fervor, ready to dedicate himself entirely. "Boss, why not plant a mental compulsion in me? I swear I’ll never betray you."

"No need." Ji An chuckled and shook his head. "I’ve already partnered with the base commanders on the spatial storage device. If anyone dares to act recklessly, let’s see if the four commanders will teach them what it means to pray for death."

The mere thought of those four merciless commanders sent a chill down Wu Youyang’s spine. Though Ji An appeared to trust him completely, an invisible leash had been placed around his neck. No one in their right mind would dare touch the personal ventures of the base commanders—unless they wanted their eyes gouged out.

"Here’s the plan: you’ll join me in the lab. Rong Fan and I will handle the core technology. Though he’s still a student under my guidance, he’s talented and hardworking. I believe he can complete the task flawlessly."

"Fine. Get them up to speed and then come to the lab." After giving his orders, Ji An headed into the lab to prepare.

When Wu Youyang distributed the peripheral data to the students, they could hardly believe their luck. Never in their wildest dreams had they imagined gaining access to such crucial information so soon after joining up.

Wu Youyang’s tone turned stern as he tamped down their excitement. "You’ve all signed contracts. You know the consequences of leaking data. And remember—this is the pet project of the four commanders. One misstep, and not even I can save you."

"Yes!" The students chimed in eagerly.

Only then did Wu Youyang soften his tone. "We’re fortunate. Boss Ji is strapped for help right now, or else opportunities like this would never fall to students like you. But this is your chance—seize it."

He had a feeling that if these students grasped this opportunity, their futures would skyrocket beyond imagination.

"We won’t let you down, Professor!" Rong Fan boomed enthusiastically.

Wu Youyang gave Rong Fan a deep look. This student had talent, opportunity, and incredible luck. One day, he would likely leave him in the dust.

"Rong Fan, as team leader, guide them through this first. I’ll have another task for you later."

"Understood, Professor!" Rong Fan was thrilled, recognizing this as a sign of Wu Youyang’s trust.

Once the instructions were given, Wu Youyang left.

The students, however, burst into an uproar. Their excitement was uncontrollable—cheering, jumping, and bouncing off the walls.

One student exclaimed, "The professor handed us something so important. Does that mean Boss Ji is starting a new project?"

"Definitely! He must not have time for this anymore. I wonder what the new research direction is?"

"Probably vaccines or something. Isn’t that what Professor Han’s team mainly works on?"

"Not necessarily. I feel like our Boss Ji is different. He might be pioneering a completely unexplored field."

"What could it be? I can’t even imagine."

"If you could, he wouldn’t be Boss Ji—the man who made cultivation real!"

By the time Wu Youyang entered the lab, Ji An had already changed into his white coat and was at the lab bench, deep in his work.

A small mountain of food was piled beside him.

Wu Youyang was completely confused. He had a basic understanding of Ji An’s experimental style—he knew that once Ji An entered the lab, he would eat, sleep, and live there without ever stepping outside, a total workaholic.

But even so, there was no need to pile up so much food here. After all, he had space; he could just grab some when hungry.

Wu Youyang didn’t comment on Ji An’s weird little quirk and instead asked, “Boss, what’s the direction of our research this time? What’s the theme?”

Only then did Ji An lift his head from his experiment. However, his gaze wasn’t fixed on Wu Youyang but rather on some distant point in space, as if through it, he had crossed time and space and seen something from the past.

“Nutritional supplements.”

The idea of nutritional supplements wasn’t something Ji An came up with only after meeting Xiao Shi. He’d conceived it long ago—specifically, during his past life when he was still living.

Ji An loved conducting research. Even as a child in the orphanage, he enjoyed it. Back then, though, he was too young, and his creations were mostly childish toys—nothing groundbreaking, mostly things already available on the market. No one took his efforts seriously.

Later, in college, Ji An worked part-time while studying and finally got the chance to enter a lab. He became even more immersed in research and created a modest invention, selling the patent rights for some income.

Then came the apocalypse. Ji An wanted to continue researching, but circumstances wouldn’t allow it. He had to follow Chen Chen around, searching for his family.

Eventually, they settled at Third Base. Though life stabilized, Chen Chen wasn’t yet the commander, and they still had to fight to survive. Constant battles consumed their daily lives, leaving Ji An no energy for anything else.

By the fourth year of the apocalypse, Chen Chen finally became commander. Life grew comfortable, and Ji An had the energy to return to research—only to find they lacked the financial means. All lab equipment was priced way beyond what Third Base could swing.

Ji An still couldn’t conduct research.

But he loved it too much. Without physical equipment, he turned to mental calculations and simulations using only his brain and pen on paper.

Perhaps due to awakening a mental ability, his brain became incredibly sharp, his memory near-perfect—practically photographic. Every calculation could be done mentally, making his brain like an advanced supercomputer.

Back then, the first thing Ji An thought of was nutritional supplements. He tested the theory again and again in his mind, running countless simulations until he was certain it would work—if only he had the proper equipment. He then sealed the data away in a corner of his mind and moved on to the next project.

But before that next project could take shape, he was killed.

As a ghost, confined to his bedroom watching Chen Chen and Tang Tang’s intimate moments, he had two choices: lose his mind and become a vengeful ghost or find something else to focus on.

Ji An chose the latter. As long as Chen Chen and Tang Tang were still alive and well, he refused to become a vengeful spirit. So he continued conducting experiments in his mind.

Without the limits of a physical body, his mind seemed to work even faster. At that point, Ji An believed even the world’s most advanced supercomputer couldn’t rival his brain.

One after another, he conducted research projects in his mind. These experiments saved him, preventing him from becoming a vengeful spirit. During the most intense periods, while Chen Chen and Tang Tang were entangled in bed, Ji An remained fully absorbed in his mental experiments, totally unaware of what they were doing.

Thus, his brain now functioned like a computer, storing countless advancements way ahead of current technology in this world.

Now, Ji An’s task was to extract that data from his mind and turn it into reality.

This was also one of the reasons why the spatial storage device was developed so quickly—he just followed the blueprint he had already simulated and stored in his mind.

The same went for the nutritional supplements now.

“N-Nutritional supplements?” The term was both familiar and strange to Wu Youyang. Familiar because even as someone who rarely watched movies or read novels, he recognized it as a sci-fi movie staple—something that could keep someone going for days without eating while providing all necessary nutrients.

Strange because… wasn’t that something only found in sci-fi?

Then Wu Youyang remembered the spatial storage device. Before it became real, hadn’t it also existed only in cultivation novels?

At this thought, Wu Youyang felt his blood racing. This time, it seemed he was about to witness the birth of another miracle.

“Boss, is this nutritional supplement… the one I’m imagining?” Wu Youyang asked, trying hard to contain his excitement.

"If you're thinking of the kind from interstellar films—where one dose lets you go days without eating or drinking while still meeting your body’s most basic nutritional needs—then yes."

Wu Youyang's eyes were so bright they could’ve lit up the room at night.

Ji An said, "You can call home or send a message. My research habit is not to leave the lab until there's progress, so we don’t know how long we’ll be stuck in here. I don't want your family worrying if they can't reach you."

"Won’t happen," Wu Youyang quickly replied. "I’ve already called. I used to spend long stretches in the lab without going home, so they’re used to it."

"Good." Ji An nodded. "Then let’s begin. There’s food over there—you can grab something. We need to analyze and extract its nutritional components, then try to compress them. Ideally, we’ll raise the conversion rate to over 70%..."

Analyzing and extracting nutrients was something Wu Youyang was skilled at—he could do it blindfolded.

But compressing nutrients? He understood each word clearly, but he had no idea how to actually do it. He was completely lost.

Wu Youyang wasn’t the type to pretend he knew what he didn’t, and he didn’t want to delay Ji An’s progress. Though a little embarrassed, he swallowed his pride and asked, "Boss, uh… about compressing nutrients—could you explain it in detail? I have no idea where to start."

"Of course." Ji An patiently walked him through his thoughts step by step.

Wu Youyang listened, and as he did, he became completely absorbed...

The two worked tirelessly, day and night. Half a month later, the first finished nutrient concentrate sat on the lab bench.

His face turned red with excitement, Wu Youyang looked like a fanatic seeing their idol for the first time—his expression was almost reverent, as if he wanted to kneel and worship it. "Boss… did we really just make this?"

"No doubt about it—this is the finished product." Ji An was also thrilled, his eyes shimmering like clear pools, glowing brighter than stars. From now on, humanity could finally escape hunger. "Now all that’s left is clinical testing. Once it passes, the nutrient concentrates can officially go into production and sale. Everyone will finally have enough to eat."

Wu Youyang exclaimed excitedly, "Boss, I have a feeling our clinical tests will definitely succeed!"

Ji An asked, "Why do you say that?"

Wu Youyang nearly jumped. "I leveled up—just a small step, but I’m now mid-stage Level 4! Boss, following you was the best decision. I’d been stuck at early-stage for ages."

Ji An paused. He’d been so focused on the experiment that he hadn’t noticed his own progress. Now that he paid attention, he realized he’d advanced a small tier too—he was now mid-stage Level 3.

It hadn’t even been that long since arriving at Jingshi Base. Clearly, the fastest and most effective way for mental-powered individuals to advance was through research.

"Boss, let’s get volunteers ASAP!" Wu Youyang couldn’t wait. He wished time would speed up, rushing straight to the day the clinical trials were completed.

"Don’t disclose specific details about the experiment to avoid unnecessary trouble. But we can offer higher compensation for volunteers," Ji An reminded him.

"Got it." Wu Youyang scooped up the data and excitedly left the lab.

Outside, only Rong Fan was still working hard—everyone else was nowhere to be seen.

"Professor, you’re out?" Rong Fan asked in surprise when he saw Wu Youyang.

"Yeah. Where is everyone?" Wu Youyang was in such a good mood that he didn’t even mind the absence of his hardworking team.

Rong Fan hurried to explain, afraid of misunderstanding. "They went for lunch. I wanted to finish my work early, so I just scarfed something down."

"Professor… did the experiment succeed?"

Wu Youyang maintained a mysterious smile, but the excitement in his eyes betrayed him. "You could say that. If this clinical test has no side effects, your teacher is about to go down in history—a name remembered for centuries! A game-changer! People will be talking about me for generations! Hahaha! Even if Boss Ji is the main figure, my name will still have its place! And when people talk about you, they’ll say, ‘Lucky bastard—he studied under Wu Youyang! Ah, I wish I could be his student too!’"

Rong Fan’s mouth twitched involuntarily. Was this really his professor? The rigid, by-the-book Wu Youyang who would’ve superglued his hair down if he could?

Had some prankster spirit hijacked him, deliberately tarnishing the professor’s rep?

Of course, if the professor wasn’t possessed but had lost his mind like this, then it could only mean one thing—that thing is truly, truly important and immensely meaningful! It might even be a matter of human survival!

At this thought, Rong Fan’s breath hitched. If it really was as he suspected, then no matter how crazy the professor acted, it wouldn’t be excessive—even if he lost it right then and there and got institutionalized, Rong Fan would understand.

“Professor, what kind of experiment is it? Is it even more badass than the spatial storage device?” Rong Fan couldn’t help but ask.

“Two different directions, two different significances—they can’t be compared.”

Another entirely new direction—Rong Fan’s mind was blown.

Wu Youyang hummed some oldies from who-knows-what decade, feeling like he was on cloud nine as he carried a stack of folders out of the lab.

On the way, he ran into an old colleague, Shi Jun. They’d both joined Na Boyu’s lab at the same time, were around the same age, and had even lived in the same neighborhood before. Both had been outstanding since childhood and were often compared to each other. Unfortunately, though Wu Youyang was brilliant in his own right, whenever he was pitted against Shi Jun, he always fell short.

Shi Jun was like Wu Youyang’s arch-nemesis—even when they both entered Na Boyu’s lab, Shi Jun was the one Na Boyu favored more.

That was also one of the reasons Wu Youyang left and switched to Ji An’s side.

Shi Jun had already walked past when he suddenly realized the person who had just walked right past him was Wu Youyang—and in an unusually good mood at that. He turned back abruptly.

“Well well, if it isn’t Researcher Wu Youyang! I thought you’d be crying in the bathroom after realizing your new boss is just all show, no substance! But here you are, looking so happy, practically floating with excitement, beaming like you’re on fire. Did Ji An’s student hand over the core spatial data to you?”

Shi Jun’s mood soured as he thought about how his own research team had been stuck on spatial technology for so long, drawing blanks and going nowhere. Meanwhile, Wu Youyang—who had always been one step behind him since birth—was already working with spatial tech and might even have mastered its core principles. The bitterness crept into his tone.

“Shi Jun, I’m warning you—don’t you dare speak of Ji An in that tone again, or don’t blame me for what happens next!”

No matter how much Shi Jun mocked him, Wu Youyang didn’t care. But he would not tolerate anyone disrespecting Ji An’s name. Ji An was his god incarnate—the savior of countless lives!

Shi Jun froze. Wu Youyang’s expression was dead serious, so intense that it seemed if he dared say one more word, Wu Youyang would actually throw down.

“What kind of charm does Ji An have to turn you into this in just a few days?” Shi Jun asked, baffled. “You used to worship Na Boyu, but I never saw you fanboying over him like some disciple!”

Wu Youyang scoffed. “What do you know? Ji An is a god!”

“What exactly happened? Even if he handed you the core spatial technology, you shouldn’t be this fanatical. Did he come up with some new breakthrough in another field?” Shi Jun rubbed his chin, skeptical.

Wu Youyang’s eyes flickered. “You’ll find out eventually. When that time comes, you’ll understand just how worthy of respect Boss Ji is. He deserves the reverence of the entire world!”

With that, Wu Youyang left. He had too much to do—core spatial technology, recruiting volunteers, clinical trials. The sooner the experiments were completed, the sooner lives could be saved!

Shi Jun watched Wu Youyang’s triumphant retreating figure, a sudden unease rising in his heart. It was as if, from now on, their positions would reverse—no longer would Wu Youyang watch him with envy, but he would be the one watching helplessly as Wu Youyang rose to the top!

Could Wu Youyang’s choice this time really be the right one? No! Impossible. Ji An was just a clueless student, a college dropout—what real ability could he have?

Shi Jun didn’t deny the existence of spatial technology, but he figured it couldn’t be that profound. Otherwise, how could a dropout have cracked it? Maybe they were stuck in some mental rut—they just needed to break free.

Wu Youyang’s current excitement was probably due to the core spatial technology or some promise Ji An had made. But if Ji An never produced anything else, those promises would remain empty words—just pie in the sky.

One day, Wu Youyang would regret it till the day he died, while Shi Jun, learning the most advanced science and technology under the guidance of the erudite Researcher Han Yaokun, would be the one to have the last laugh.

Yet that unease in his heart refused to fade. Shi Jun could only console himself that it was just him overthinking—maybe he was just too afraid of being surpassed by his old rival.

Wu Youyang had already begun recruiting volunteers. This time, they planned to enlist a hundred—fifty men and fifty women, with superpowered individuals making up half of each gender.

The conditions included room and board covered, plus a reward of 100,000 credits per person after the experiment.

Recruitment ads were posted throughout the entire Jing City Base.

Things were relatively calm in the West District, where the wealthy lived, but the East District was losing it.

Dongcheng Street teemed with homeless men, half-starved and barely alive. These people would sell their souls, their bodies—anything they could—for a single meal.

As soon as the notice was posted, the homeless came swarming.

"Me, me, I'm willing..."

"Choose me! I don't even need pay—just give me some food, and I'll do anything."

"You can use me for medical experiments. I just ask that you give me the money first. My child is critically ill, and I have no money for treatment. I'll accept any experiment."

Of course, there were also some ordinary people who were tempted but hesitated, as their lives were still getting by—not desperate enough to risk death.

"Sir, may I ask what kind of experiment I'd be participating in? Is there any danger?"

"The details of the experiment cannot be disclosed. What we can tell you is that it's not a human experiment, but the risks are unknown. Death or other permanent injuries are possible. However, in the event of death or severe harm, the maximum compensation is one million. If the experiment causes other physical injuries, we will cover treatment until full recovery."

This got many regular folks tempted. They could never earn a million in their lifetime. If they died, at least their families would be left with a fortune, set for life.

Ji An's public recruitment of a hundred volunteers was a big deal, and the commotion inevitably caught the attention of the research institute and the command center.

At the institute, the talk started up again, with Ji An remaining the central topic.

"They're making waves again." Nowadays, mentioning Ji An felt like invoking Voldemort, so people referred to him indirectly as "that side."

"No clue. It's all hush-hush, but they're recruiting a lot of volunteers—a hundred people."

"Do you think it's a zombie virus vaccine? Only something like that would need so many volunteers."

"Impossible. The professor has been working on the zombie virus vaccine for so long without cracking the main problem. There was a breakthrough recently, but it still can't guarantee immunity—just a reduced infection rate, and even that's uncertain."

"I heard that vaccine doesn't do squat. Even if you take it, you can still get infected."

News of Ji An's volunteer recruitment had the whole institute buzzing, and even Zhao Zhen had heard about it.

Ji An was already ahead of them with his spatial technology research, which still had them stumped. If he now beat them to developing a zombie virus vaccine, he'd get all the credit. What place would Zhao Zhen and his mentor have left in the capital base?

"Professor, they're making waves again. Could they have developed the zombie virus vaccine?" Zhao Zhen asked anxiously.

Han Yaokun clamped his mouth shut. His pressure was no less than Zhao Zhen's. If Ji An succeeded first, how could he keep his job with dignity?

Seeing Han Yaokun's distress, Zhao Zhen's eyes darted, and he hardened his resolve. "Professor, why don't we also announce our zombie virus vaccine?"

"No!" Han Yaokun snapped, his voice like a steel trap.

Zhao Zhen refused to back down. "But if they succeed first, where will that leave us in the capital base? There'll be no place for us!"

"No. Don't bring this up again. Absolutely not!" Han Yaokun left no room for debate. But seeing his former favorite student's frustration, he softened slightly. "The zombie virus vaccine isn't ready yet. The infection rate is unpredictable. If we release it prematurely, people might think they're completely safe and let their guard down. What if they get infected? Those are human lives!"

Zhao Zhen argued, "But Professor, the vaccine was never meant to be foolproof. It only reduces the infection rate—it doesn't guarantee immunity."

"Zhao Zhen, do you think we can cut corners here? The superpowered aren't fools. They'll track the statistics—how many vaccinated people still get infected, how much it actually lowers the odds compared to the unvaccinated. None of that can be faked. If we're exposed, we'll both be finished."

"Professor, are we just going to stand by and let him take all the glory? There's nothing we can do?"

Han Yaokun gazed in the direction of Ji An's lab, his expression complicated. "If they truly develop a zombie virus vaccine, it'll be good for the country. He's got me beat. But I won't concede defeat. I will catch up to them as soon as possible."

Zhao Zhen was still dissatisfied, but seeing Han Yaokun's resolve, he dared not press further.

At the command center, the same talk was going around, speculating whether this was indeed about the zombie virus vaccine.

Unlike Han Yaokun's team, whose specific experimental projects require approval from the command center, Ji An's laboratory is entirely his own, with privately funded projects. The command center has no authority to interfere and thus has no knowledge of Ji An's actual research.

If it were any other experiment, Gu Jinsheng wouldn’t even bother asking. But if it involved a zombie virus vaccine, he couldn’t turn a blind eye.

Gu Jinsheng, accompanied by Kong Zhongcheng and Wan Xueying, tracked down Ji An.

Without beating around the bush, Gu Jinsheng cut straight to the point: "Is it the zombie virus vaccine?"

Ji An, accustomed to Gu Jinsheng’s terse manner, understood him perfectly. "No."

Having received a negative answer, Gu Jinsheng had no further questions. They had agreed beforehand that he wouldn’t interfere excessively.

But Ji An blurted out the information anyway. "It’s a nutritional supplement."