Chapter 595: Chapter 595

"But can you actually eat bacteria?" Even Jing Shu showed a look of disgust. Insects could at least be considered a source of collagen, but what about bacteria? What’s in them? Are they even nutritious? If I’m not mistaken, all food is generally referred to as carbohydrates. If these bacteria lack that composition, never mind whether they’re tasty, could they even be digested once eaten? And if they’re not carbohydrates, how could they possibly sate hunger?

So, the question is, are bacteria considered carbohydrates?

Xie Zhuzhu pointed to the dense, swirling masses of bacteria in the adjacent container and said, "These belong to the genus of Spiral-shaped bacteria. Don’t be fooled by their appearance; they actually play a significant role. They perform nitrogen fixation, converting nitrogen into a form usable by living organisms. Ordinary Spiral Bacteria are only 50 microns, but look at these little cuties—they’ve been magnified considerably."

Jing Shu was momentarily speechless. So, what does that even mean?

"Ahem, explaining all these technical details might be a bit overwhelming for you, so I’ll get straight to the point," Xie Zhuzhu continued. "These bacteria are very useful. For example, we can divide the bacteria in the lab into two main categories. One category is human food. Can you believe that a human needs only to eat an amount the size of a fingernail to feel full? Look, just ."

As she spoke, Xie Zhuzhu used a knife to cut off a tiny piece. It felt much like slicing off an octopus’s tentacle. The severed piece immediately began to thrash violently, flailing about. Xie Zhuzhu then stuffed it into her mouth and swallowed it whole, without even chewing.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," she added, "it’s best not to chew these bacteria. The more you chew, the more they’ll divide, and the less effective they’ll be."

Xie Zhuzhu patted herself on the chest, caught her breath, and then explained, "These bacteria can complete the carbon cycle. Once ingested, the bacteria are attacked by the body’s natural bacterial flora. During this process, other organic compounds are synthesized and become part of both the human and the bacterial ecosystem through the food chain. The carbohydrates in the human body are partially used as energy for metabolism. When oxidized through respiration, they break down into carbon dioxide and water, releasing their stored energy. This process satisfies the body’s need for carbohydrates."

Jing Shu and Song Bin nodded, only half-understanding. In the end, it seemed these bacteria could indeed be converted into the energy humans needed, and that was enough. As long as eating them didn’t lead to starvation, that was all that mattered.

"Now, look at the bacteria that were cut off over there," Xie Zhuzhu said, gesturing. "They will self-replicate to replenish their population. In short, they will replace however much is used, and with stimulation, they might even produce more. If we can achieve an inexhaustible supply, the problem of providing humans with enough energy to feel full will be solved." Xie Zhuzhu’s face beamed with pride. This laboratory was the culmination of four years of research by her team. It might have sounded easy when she explained it, but no one knew how many experiments and calculations had actually been conducted during that time.

"By the way, would either of you like to try some? The taste is quite pungent, and the texture is very ordinary. Plus, after you swallow it, it will churn vigorously in your stomach. It feels just like popping candy—a very novel and thrilling sensation."

"I wouldn’t dream of it!" Song Bin turned pale and shook his head vehemently.

Jing Shu felt a slight temptation. As a ten-year veteran of the apocalypse, I’ve eaten rotten corpse insects to survive. What suffering haven’t I endured?

But seeing the filthy, ink-like excrement and smelling the pungent, offensive odor, Jing Shu abandoned the idea. Maybe it’ll be better as sashimi later on, she thought. Then she asked aloud, "By the way, what do these Spiral-shaped bacteria feed on?"

It’s like raising chickens or ducks, Jing Shu mused. Even if you feed them insects, they still need food, right? What about the energy expenditure involved?

Xie Zhuzhu pointed to another glass enclosure. "Look, this is the other bacterial species I mentioned. In the future, it will serve as food for various gigantic animals and other bacteria. It’s also one of the agents currently used to induce gigantism in species. We’ve been researching how to enlarge food sources without depleting energy, and this bacterium is one of the key inducers. Combined with certain specialized drugs, they can replicate wildly. This then stimulates the animals’ bodies, initiating a frenzied destruction and alteration of DNA and chromosomes, thereby causing various levels of mutations in these organisms..."

Jing Shu furrowed her brow, continuing to listen to the perplexing explanation.

"To put it simply," Xie Zhuzhu elaborated, "it’s essentially about remodeling genes to induce massive genetic changes. However, we can’t perform perfect, targeted remodeling. So, we resort to a more direct, forceful method that causes these organisms to deform. Whatever they grow into, they grow into. It’s just like those chickens you saw earlier—in fact, those are merely chicks. Later on, we’ll use catalysts to try and make them grow as large as elephants."

"That’s why I say they’re a bunch of madmen," Song Bin muttered. He didn’t voice his other thought: The lab initially magnified maggots several times, intending to cultivate giant maggots for feed and food. Just imagine a maggot as big as a person crawling in front of you—how disgusting would that be? Of course, one chop, and it would be full of oozing liquid.

Ideals are often beautiful, while reality can be starkly revealing. Xie Zhuzhu’s experiments always encountered various problems. However, much like life itself, it was a constant process of either discovering issues or working to resolve them.

"Why don’t you try experimenting with making fish gigantic?" Jing Shu asked, a little curious. In my previous life, the first gigantic food to appear was clearly fish.

Xie Zhuzhu shook her head. "The DNA and chromosomes of aquatic organisms are indeed simpler, but their conversion rate is too low, as is their deformity rate. The simpler they are, the more stable and resistant to change they become. Consequently, the cost is much higher, and we don’t achieve the desired effects. The failure rate is significantly higher compared to other species."

Jing Shu pondered for a moment. Is there more to this than meets the eye? she wondered. Deciding to offer a reminder, given her foresight, she said, "I think you could research fish further. Perhaps the difficulties are only temporary. It might be beneficial to try different methodologies if you’ve hit a bottleneck."

"Alright," Xie Zhuzhu replied. "Once we’ve moved past this current theoretical stage, we’ll look into fish again."

Whether they were being sincere or just placating her, Jing Shu wasn’t in a hurry. She had only just begun to participate in this major project. Her foresight and knowledge of historical developments didn’t seem particularly useful at the moment, and she didn’t understand the detailed research content at all. That was something she could slowly learn about in the future.

The laboratory comprised eleven floors. By the time they descended to the fifth floor, Jing Shu indicated she didn’t want to go any further.

The deeper they descended, the more oppressive the darkness became. It felt as if the first and second floors had represented hope and light, while each subsequent level plunged them further into shadow.

Research into the human body, methods to maximize the utilization of corpses, even the cultivation of new species using human remains as nutrient sources—despite the existence of signed consent forms for some of these practices, Jing Shu today witnessed a side of the apocalypse that remained largely unknown to others. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝕟𝕖𝕥