Chapter 18: Memes and Wish Machines

“Human wish machine?”

Ji Donglai raised an eyebrow at the term, his eyes filled with surprise.

“Yes, Group Leader Ji,” Yang Lao said:

“This is the term provided by your Item Appraisal Technique. This life from another world is essentially a human-shaped wish machine.”

“The so-called martial arts are merely manifestations triggered by their wishes—I suspect every alien is a small self-wishing machine.”

“Interesting. Everyone’s a superpower user? This is the truth behind Wu Gong!” Ji Donglai said, his eyes tinged with regret.

After all, they didn’t have this “wish machine” term, proving they couldn’t practice those martial arts.

Superpower users have always had shockingly weak self-preservation abilities, overdeveloping in just one direction, making their strengths and weaknesses glaringly obvious. If these alien martial arts could compensate, it would be quite valuable.

“Group Leader Ji, the real focus is on the previous memetic term,” Yang Lao reminded: “This small wish machine has self-replication and proliferation capabilities.”

“Any life form possessing self-awareness that comes into contact or physical touch will be irrevocably infected and transformed into a human-shaped wish machine.”

Ji Donglai suddenly stiffened: “You mean…”

“Yes. The term for F Superhuman and the other dozen or so individuals should now include an additional wish machine memetic tag.”

Yang Lao smiled bitterly: “To prevent further memetic spread, the entire Long Yin Base has been sealed off and quarantined—no entry or exit permitted.”

“Probably unnecessary,” Ji Donglai groaned, rubbing his forehead: “Hundreds of other places where energy tides erupted likely already have people coming and going—it’s too late to stop it.”

After a moment of silence, Ji Donglai said: “Then let’s leave it at that. Keep studying that experimental specimen. I’ve found an even better one—I’ll send it over once I capture it.”

Before he could end the call, a video request from Lanhuowang appeared, stirring a bad premonition in him.

“Boss, trouble’s here,” Lanhuowang grinned in the video: “Guess what? I lost him—he’s a real pro at vanishing.”

Ji Donglai scowled, too annoyed to respond, and brushed him off: “Fine. Write a three-thousand-word reflection report on this failure and send it to me. Also, stop video-calling me. Have your liaison officer handle all future communications.”

“No, boss, why so sudden? Don’t cut me off, I just wanna say…”

Without giving Lanhuowang a chance to reference pre-apocalypse internet memes, Ji Donglai hung up and rubbed his temples as he told Li Lao: “That experimental specimen we discussed just escaped. I’ll send it over once I catch it.”

Yang Lao nodded, then asked curiously: “Was that just now Lanhuowang?”

Upon receiving Ji Donglai’s confirmation, Yang Lao understood.

Lanhuowang was a man who constantly spouted internet memes, no matter the time or place—sometimes cramming two or three trending jokes and regional punchlines into a single sentence. His reputation was so widespread that nearly everyone had heard of him.

…

In the afternoon, after Fang Can finished his nap, he heard a distant rumbling explosion.

“Are they demolishing something over there?”

Fang Can frowned slightly, sensing something odd—the distant sound was a continuous series of detonations.

Not just him—the students in the classroom all turned their heads toward the explosion, only to see countless massive fire columns surging into the sky.

“This is definitely a battle between superpower users!” someone exclaimed in shock.

At that moment, across the entire city, a silent, overwhelming aura emanated from the western district of Z City, accompanied by thunderous roars.

The feeling was like being late for work or school on a Monday morning—everyone’s chest grew heavy, a faint sense of panic rising, growing stronger the closer one got.

Ten kilometers away: the anxiety of being late for work. Five kilometers away: the stress of a failed gacha pull. One kilometer away: the terror of realizing you’re giving a speech in front of everyone… wearing only your underwear…

Within a hundred meters, it was no longer mere pressure—it was unbearable. Ordinary people who approached would instantly lose consciousness.

‘This feeling…’ Fang Can couldn’t help frowning: ‘Why does it feel so familiar? Probably a mental-type superpower user.’

As Fang Can pondered, the massive fire columns ahead began spreading, their roar rolling toward the city center, followed by the city-wide wail of air raid sirens.

With the sirens blaring, the entire city moved with practiced, orderly evacuation—incidents like this happened several times a year, no longer surprising anyone.

Fang Can silently followed the school’s evacuation, but everyone knew this was just another false alarm.

Past battles between superpower users rarely lasted long—usually over within minutes.

Sure enough, less than two minutes later, while Fang Can was still descending the stairs, the air raid siren cut off, the fire columns vanished, and the teacher turned back to announce everyone could return to class.

“I knew it—this always happens…”

“So boring. If it had lasted just a little longer, we wouldn’t have had class today…”

“Boring. I wanted to see rivers of blood…”

Listening to his classmates’ muttered complaints, Fang Can stayed silent, but internally questioned: Could that inexplicable pressure really have been coincidence?

Unruffled by the brief interruption of the superpower battle, Fang Can continued his routine, pretending to be an ordinary student, progressing steadily through his studies.

Compared to his previous life in the other world—where he trained until his hands cramped and occasionally mutilated himself to boost his talent—his current studies were downright tranquil.

Yet the more tranquil it became, the more uneasy Fang Can felt, as if time were being wasted uselessly in the classroom.

After all, in a world where he could be teleported to another dimension at any moment, who knew what conditions awaited him there? Every bit of improvement mattered.

Knowing this inexplicable restlessness helped nothing, Fang Can casually swallowed a grain of arsenic during study, letting the calm of his Genius Mode suppress the negative emotions.

‘I can’t waste too much time here. All this knowledge can be mastered in one night. Next, I should consider how to exit this school phase.’

Fang Can thought calmly, weighing how long Talent 2 would take to heal a broken arm or thigh.

And whether the learning time gained outweighed the cost.

After all these calculations, the day’s studies passed quickly. When Fang Can returned home, he paused slightly before pulling out his key, then continued as if nothing had happened and opened the door.

But only he knew: his “After Misfortune Comes Good Fortune” talent had activated passively, and his heightened intuition now sensed a top-tier predator lurking somewhere inside the room.

(End of Chapter)