Dean Wang, dressed in a pristine white coat and wearing clean white gloves, meticulously walked around the room.
Carefully inspect each and every precision instrument.
With clean white gloves, they carefully powered on the instruments and tested their functions.
"The Bai family and the zombie king are all qualified to be experimented on in this room. If we can find out the true core information about superhumans and zombies, creating gods will be very simple for us."
Dean Wang's weathered eyes stared intently at each of the sophisticated instruments, his voice tinged with excitement.
Soon, we will be able to create gods.
Not just his son, he could create many more gods effortlessly.
So what if he doesn't have superpowers? In the future, he will be the creator, the god of creation.
Wang Ge sat expressionlessly in the chair, not uttering a single word no matter how much Dean Wang dreamed.
Whether he studies superhumans or zombies, it doesn't matter to him.
He just wanted everyone to experience the same pain he had gone through.
Turning the world into hell seems like a very interesting thing.
"Creating gods is something that our ancestors have always longed for and yearned for. I never imagined that it would become a reality in my generation."
Dean Wang carefully took the book out of his pocket, his gloved fingers trembling slightly.
The sound of papers being turned over could be heard.
Dean Wang's aged eyes fell on one of the pages.
The image above is a picture.
This book is a photocopy of an ancient book, and it looks somewhat blurry.
A vague image of a strange creature can be seen.
The creature had a human face and a naked body, resembling both a dragon and a snake.
Even a mere photocopy conveys a profound sense of history and carries an overwhelming sense of oppression that is difficult for humans to bear directly.
Below the portrait are some blurry words, but you can vaguely make out what they say.
The god of Zhongshan is named Zhuyin. When he looks, it is day; when he closes his eyes, it is night; when he blows, it is winter; when he exhales, it is summer. He neither drinks nor eats nor breathes. When he breathes, he becomes the wind. His body is a thousand miles long.
Dean Wang stared intently at the portrait above, his whole demeanor bordering on madness.
"It's almost here, it's almost here! The time is right, the place is right, and the people are right! The gods are about to descend to earth."
When Dean Wang said these words, his whole body was trembling. Despite his utter madness over the portrait, he was speaking to Wang Ge.
Wang Ge stared expressionlessly at the deranged old man, his empty eyes twitching slightly.
"What did you put in my head?"
Wang Ge asked the question as if it were unintentional.
He could feel something in his head. Before the apocalypse broke out, he went to a large hospital to have X-rays taken to see what was inside his head.
Unfortunately, neither hospital could provide a clear answer.
All the images were blurry and about the size of a thumb.
Some doctors said it might be a tumor, while others said it might be a blood clot.
Regardless of the cause, the conclusion is that it cannot be removed through craniotomy.
Because that thing is located in the hypothalamus, craniotomy is too dangerous.
No hospital was willing to perform the surgery.
Wang Ge's eyes deepened.
This kind of craniotomy has been performed many times by his so-called father, Dean Wang.
And all the people who underwent this surgery were his sons.
"Release the thing that can make you a god."
Through Wang Ge, Dean Wang seemed to see a future where a god descended to earth.
Wang Ge glanced at the book in Dean Wang's hand, a hint of hostility flashing in his eyes. He seemed somewhat irritated, stood up, and walked outside.
"Wang Ge, your injuries haven't healed yet. Remember to absorb the crystal core properly to recover from your internal injuries."
Watching Wang Ge's retreating figure, Dean Wang quickly added a sentence.
After Wang Ge left the zombie village last time, he suffered severe internal injuries.
In particular, brainwaves became extremely disordered.
Forcibly commanding a zombie to self-destruct will cause brain damage.
Wang Ge's brain represents the hope and legacy of Hua Tuo's lineage for thousands of years.
Under no circumstances should it be damaged.
Wang Ge did not respond to Dean Wang's words and walked away.
Because he understood that the reason Dean Wang cared about him was not because he was his son, but simply because of what was in his mind.
Wang Ge, radiating rage, entered his room and threw himself onto the bed.
Even though Dean Wang didn't say anything, he vaguely guessed what it was.
Before the apocalypse, he didn't understand what it was; after the apocalypse, he did.
It must be a crystal nucleus.
Superhumans, mutated animals, and zombies all have crystal nuclei in their brains.
Before the apocalypse, he could also perceive things with brainwaves and use superpowers, but they were too weak.
Compared to the average person, he's only slightly more impressive.
After the apocalypse, his power began to rise wildly.
The energy in his brain is no different from that of a superhuman.
This means that his so-called father opened up his brain and put in a crystal core.
But back then, there was no apocalypse, no zombies, and no superhumans.
Could the crystal core in Dean Wang's hand be a family heirloom?
Wang Ge narrowed his eyes dangerously, holding an ordinary crystal core in his hand.
Once a crystal nucleus is extracted from the body, it can never be infused with energy again.
The crystal nucleus will gradually evaporate its internal energy and eventually turn into waste.
This will be a long process.
According to the research of this damned institute, an ordinary crystal core will only turn into waste after a hundred years.
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