HI3: Previous Civilization

"Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality." – Edgar Allan Poe

---

Meanwhile, in the lab…

Ruoyin was still broadcasting live.

Mobius took a few deep breaths, only to realize it wasn't helping at all.

(╯°□°）╯︵┻━┻

"Whoever claimed deep breathing calms you down should be dragged off and shot! My heart's beating faster than ever. That jerk needs a bullet!"

"Dr. Mobius? All set?" came Fan's magnetic voice—eerily reminiscent of DIO from JoJo.

Hearing that voice only made Mobius's face flare brighter with embarrassment.

"Not yet! Give me another moment!"

Fan feigned confusion: "Dr. Mobius, if you only needed to hand me some documents, do you really need this much preparation?"

Mobius froze in place. In the background, Ruoyin almost swore she heard glass shattering.

A pang stabbed through Mobius's heart, like her girlish fantasies had just splintered into shards of heartbreak—leaving only flames of anger behind. She spun to deliver a spinning kick at the man behind her, but her flimsy heels snapped. Her attack halted as she lost balance, bracing for an ugly fall. Closing her eyes, she expected a painful crash… only to feel a pair of arms catch her around the waist.

A gentle, warm voice murmured by her ear:

"Dr. Mobius, are you okay?"

She opened her eyes to see Fan's concerned face. She also realized he was practically hugging her, one hand firmly around her slim waist. Through the fabric, she could sense his body heat. Flustered, she turned her head aside, squirming as she spoke:

"How long do you plan on holding that pose? Let go!"

"Oh—right… Sorry, Dr. Mobius. Let me help you up."

Head lowered, Mobius twisted a few strands of hair around her fingers. Clearly, her mood was anything but calm.

Fan scratched his head in apology. "Sorry about that, Dr. Mobius. The situation was urgent—I didn't mean anything by it. Hope you understand."

Her comeback lodged in her throat. Eventually, she huffed, arms folded:

"Hmph! No need to apologize. I know you were just helping me, and I'm… not mad."

Fan noted her stubborn posture, about to say something more, but he hesitated. Sighing softly, he glanced at her broken shoe.

Ruoyin must have dressed Mobius in new clothes earlier—just not new footwear.

"But, Dr. Mobius…" he began, only to feel a sudden weight in his hand. He glanced down to see that Ruoyin had discreetly placed a fresh pair of heels there, giving him a silent thumbs-up.

Fan grimaced, but he saw Mobius's eyes flick over, an unspoken gleam of expectation shining there. So he crouched and gently grasped her slender ankle.

With a start, Mobius jerked her foot away. But Fan gripped it, his tone sharp:

"Don't move!"

She froze, heat prickling across her skin at the firm touch. In silence, he carefully replaced the broken heel with the new pair. She remained motionless, eyes downcast, unreadable.

When he was done, Mobius said nothing. Instead, she opened her suitcase, pulled out a stack of documents, and stuffed them into Fan's arms. Then, without a word, she ushered both Fan and Ruoyin out, slamming the lab door behind them.

Leaning against that door, Mobius sank to the floor, hugging her long legs to her chest. Everything in the last few hours felt unreal, like a roller coaster of emotions.

Looking at her new shoes, she couldn't help a silly smile creeping across her face. Then she slapped her cheeks lightly, forcing herself to focus:

"Mobius, you've never been like this. Why are you feeling all these unnecessary emotions? Didn't you vow to pursue humanity's grand evolution?"

But her mind drifted to the memory of him feeding her… putting on her shoe… that comforting warmth in his arms. She shook her head wildly, driving away these thoughts.

'Hmph! As if I'd have special feelings for Fan. I'm only doing this to gather research data. If that little white mouse falls for me, I can get whatever I want, right? Yes, that's it…'

…

Outside the door, Fan scratched the back of his neck, baffled:

'What on earth's gotten into her? It was just a shoe change. I wasn't about to pull any stunts… It seems Dr. Mobius's defense is far lower than I realized.'

He looked down at the thick stack of documents she'd handed him and flipped through a few pages:

As she'd promised, these materials could effectively silence the upper echelons. Many wealthy oligarchs and politicians would kill for this, since after achieving power and money, the next pursuit is longevity. Of course, Fan had even better stuff hidden away, but it was best not to reveal it yet. Originally, he'd planned to simplify the formula and present it later—both to appease the top brass and to raise humanity's Honkai resistance so that fewer lives would be lost when disaster struck.

"Not out of altruism," Fan reminded himself. "We need as many laborers and fighters as possible…"

Indeed, Dr. Mobius's data described a gene-serum formula theoretically adding about twenty extra years of life, granting moderate physical enhancement and improved Honkai tolerance.

Fan stroked his chin: "Still, I'd better water it down when offering it to the higher-ups. Can't let them get too comfortable, or who knows what mischief they'll brew next."

One week later, Dawn Pharmaceuticals was founded.

Within that week, certain bigwigs in Mu Continent (Z-Fu) struck a friendly deal with Fan, who assured them that future research breakthroughs—particularly longevity treatments—would be shared with them first. Meanwhile, various rich elites caught wind of a rumored 'miracle drug' and came knocking.

On opening day, Fan and top government officials from Mu Continent attended the ribbon-cutting ceremony. A press conference followed, unveiling a range of new meds from Dawn Pharma. They claimed to cure myriad terminal illnesses for a fraction of the old costs—just enough for one regular treatment. That same day, a group of terminally ill patients were administered special potions on-site. After a thorough exam, doctors confirmed all of them fully recovered.

Still, some skeptics remained. But countless severely ill patients decided to try at least one bottle. Some awoke feeling unexpectedly energetic, only to confirm at the hospital that their conditions had vanished entirely.

Word spread. Some patients posted their medical records online, and although certain paid trolls attempted to drown them out, more and more authentic reports kept emerging. Soon it was impossible to dispute the truth.

Within days, global headlines boomed with news of Dawn Pharmaceuticals' miracle cures. Terminally ill individuals and their families saw a renewed hope. Public morale soared, pleasing the Mu Continent officials. Dawn Pharmaceuticals, in turn, raked in overflowing profits—a mutual win-win.

---

(chū shǐ) literally translates to "initial," "beginning," or "start." It signifies the first steps or inception of something important.