Chapter 051: The Five Forms of the Nuclear Insect

Although it was only a novice piece of equipment, Li Tianque still felt a surge of excitement. He couldn't wait to put on the gloves and test the power of the Kilovolt Gloves.

Upon closer inspection, Li Tianque noticed that the gloves resembled work gloves in shape, crafted from deep blue linen. The difference was that these Kilovolt Gloves fit much more snugly than any work gloves—once worn, they clung tightly, as if his hands were firmly gripped inside.

Following Wu Miaoran’s instructions, Li Tianque tried to establish a mental connection with the gloves. Yet, contrary to his expectations, no flash of inspiration came; there was no special prompt or sign.

He began to attempt to channel electricity through the gloves.

As Wu Miaoran had suggested, he pressed his index finger and thumb together. At that instant, he sensed a distinct change in the conductive mesh of the gloves. Almost simultaneously, an image sprang unbidden to his mind: a surge of high-voltage electricity discharging from his hands, though no specific numbers appeared.

Suddenly, Li Tianque felt his hands become much heavier, as if he were lifting two large stones at once; his entire body started to sink involuntarily. The next moment, a number flashed in his mind—200 volts—followed by a visible current arcing across the gloves.

Caught off guard, there was a loud bang, and dazzling electric light exploded from his hands.

A writhing mass of blue current, tangled like electric dragons, burst from his grasp and sent him sprawling backwards.

“Damn!”

His arms were instantly flung wide by the force of the current. As he spread them, the arc of electricity shot into the air, finally dissipating into fading arcs of light, leaving only the scent of scorched air behind.

“See? You really underestimated these gloves. With your current strength, you should only be able to control about 50 volts. If you want to handle anything over a hundred, you’ll have to work on your arm strength…” Wu Miaoran remarked, arms folded as she watched him.

“No… Let me try again!” Li Tianque’s arms tingled and ached, as if they’d just been wrenched open by force—an uncomfortable sensation. His eyes, too, were dazzled by the intense light, leaving shifting shadows in his vision and making him dizzy.

Still, he was determined to try again, to see if he could master this extraordinary weapon.

This time, having grasped the knack, he pressed his index finger and thumb together. In his mind’s eye, the number 60 volts appeared.

Once more, electricity crackled across the Kilovolt Gloves, the bright arcs lighting up the surroundings.

Though the voltage was much lower now, Li Tianque still felt a strong tension, but it was manageable. He followed the sensation, slowly stretching his arms outward, and the current in his hands extended with him, unfurling like drawn noodles until it formed an electric net.

To test the intensity of the shock at this voltage, Li Tianque swung the electric net forward. To his surprise, he could control its trajectory as it lashed out, slicing clean through a low shrub—leaves scattered, and a fresh scent of grass filled the air.

“Sixty volts is also manageable—seems pretty easy to control!” Li Tianque exclaimed, elated.

“Not bad, actually a bit better than I expected. But let me remind you, these gloves need solar power to recharge. You see their color is deep blue now? As the battery drains, the color will fade. When they turn white, it means they’re out of power. If you try to use them then, they’ll drain your own bioelectricity. When fully charged, the gloves turn black. And if you want to complain about their looks, remember: these are all inventions by Little Silly Fish. As long as they work, that’s good enough—they’re all hideous anyway,” Wu Miaoran commented.

Duan Xiaoyu adjusted his glasses, ignoring Wu Miaoran’s jibes, and opened an email on his tablet. After reading for a bit, he said to the two of them, “They’ve sent over the data, but with the isotopes we have, we still can’t determine exactly what kind of Core Worm we’re dealing with. Based on the information, there are three possible suspects: the Bionic Shanzhi, which resembles wind-eroded mountain rocks; the Enhanced Jianzui, known for its violent temper; and the Parasitic Evil Orchid, a Core Worm fond of cultivating derivatives. All three can produce derivatives and frequent mountain forests. In terms of danger, the one I least want to encounter is Jianzui. If we find any clues pointing to it, we should withdraw and call for backup.”

“I’m not retreating,” Wu Miaoran protested, pouting. “I want to see whatever it is, especially if it’s Jianzui. I’ve never seen one, not even a sighting report. If I actually get to see it, I don’t want to miss the chance!”

“Heh, not miss it? If you really meet it, what you’ll miss is the rest of your life,” Duan Xiaoyu retorted with a cold laugh.

“Little Silly Fish, besides being indecisive and dumb, now you’re a coward too!” Wu Miaoran teased.

“Uh, could you two stop arguing for a moment? I have a question—these bionic types, parasitic types, and so on, are those categories of Core Worms?” Li Tianque asked.

Pushing his glasses up, Duan Xiaoyu explained, “Correct. Core Worms, as far as we know, fall into five categories: bionic, enhanced, parasitic, control, and virtual. Bionic types, as the name suggests, can mimic other things in the world and live permanently in that form—like that humanoid girl, Danni, in your dormitory. Enhanced types are completely independent in form—like monsters, with anatomies unlike any other known lifeforms. They don’t rely on anything else to survive and their biological functions far exceed any known creature, though they’re rare.

“As for parasitic types, you’re already familiar—like the Nightmare Eye in your own head. They invade and consume their hosts, or use them as vessels for digestion. To evolve, they’ll eventually abandon their current host and seek out a new one. However, once separated from the host, they die within one to three days.

“Control types are similar to parasitic and enhanced types, but distinct—they must control another lifeform to survive, and can also cultivate derivatives. But control types can survive independently after leaving their host. Initially, they were called symbionts. The last type, virtual, are nearly invisible to the naked eye—like ghosts, yet undeniably real. They’re the most mysterious of all.”

Li Tianque nodded thoughtfully. “Then what are derivatives?”

“Derivatives aren’t a category of Core Worm—they’re organisms affected by Core Worms, usually mutated. They’re not controlled by the Core Worm and sometimes aren’t even aggressive. Like that rock monster earlier—it was likely mutated by a Core Worm in the mountains, but its aggression was much higher,” Duan Xiaoyu replied.

“I see. Then if we get close to a Core Worm, could we become derivatives too?” Li Tianque asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Don’t worry,” Wu Miaoran reassured him. “To become a derivative, you’d need direct and prolonged contact with a Core Worm. The transformation process is slow—it takes at least three days. Just being near one won’t cause a mutation.”

Li Tianque fell silent. Wu Miaoran and Duan Xiaoyu seemed accustomed to all this, but as this was his first time investigating a Core Worm, he couldn’t help feeling anxious.

He glanced at the shattered stones on the ground and the two unconscious soldiers. “So, what do we do next? And… what about these two soldiers?”

“We’ll carry them to the lower stone platform, then keep climbing,” Duan Xiaoyu said.

“Climb? I want to check out the spot where the rock monster emerged. There might be clues there!” Wu Miaoran objected.

“I don’t want to argue, but think about it: we just arrived and already ran into that thing. Both the Special Ops and the Search and Rescue teams have combed Gashi Mountain, yet the rock monster appeared only now. Doesn’t that seem odd? There’s probably a trap nearby,” Duan Xiaoyu warned.

“So what? Most derivatives are uncontrollable—how could they set traps for Core Worms? And even if there are traps here, who says the mountain path is safe?” Wu Miaoran scoffed.

“I’m done arguing. If we keep this up, the sun will be setting before we do anything. Since you want to stay, let’s split up. You and Tianque investigate nearby—I’ll head up the mountain alone,” Duan Xiaoyu said angrily.

This chapter ends here. Happy reading!