Feeling somewhat offended, Mr.
Yang fell silent.
Standing beside him, Ye Cang wanted to offer a few words of comfort out of kindness, but he suddenly realized something.
He whipped his head around.
Welt Yang was gripping his cane tightly.
His eyes were hollow, staring blankly ahead, devoid of any signs of life.
*Damn it!
Was he hit?* *When did this happen?* “Quick!
Save him!” the youth barked.
Already tense, Himeko and Dan Heng immediately rushed forward.
Himeko grabbed a syringe of epinephrine from the first-aid kit, while Dan Heng switched on the defibrillator and began adjusting the voltage.
Without hesitation, Ye Cang clenched his right fist and threw a hard punch straight into Mr.
Yang’s face, roaring, “Don’t answer!
Don’t even think about it!” However, although he carried the blessing of the Aeon of Abundance, possessing the status of an Emanator in name, his physical condition barely scraped the passing mark of a Pathstrider.
He was still a long way from breaking through Welt’s defenses.
This was a job for Dan Heng!
“Dan Heng!” he yelled.
“I’m here!” his friend’s voice came—swift, calm, and reassuring.
Ignoring the throbbing numbness in his fist, Ye Cang pointed at Mr.
Yang, whom he had just punched to the floor, and barked out rapid-fire orders: “Knock him out!
Don’t ask why!” “Right!” Trusting him instinctively, Dan Heng didn’t ask questions.
He flattened his hand into a blade and delivered a perfectly measured chop to the back of Mr.
Yang’s neck.
Just hard enough to knock him out without causing brain damage!
Mr.
Yang’s eyes rolled back, and he passed out on the spot.
Only then did the man’s tense muscles finally relax, his body going limp.
“He’s burning up.
His body temperature is over fifty degrees Celsius.” Himeko pressed the back of her hand against Welt’s forehead, her eyes wide with shock.
Her expression grew grave.
“If he were an ordinary human, a temperature like this would have already caused multi-organ failure.” *Well, obviously.* This was the man famous for his legendary “sit-up” recoveries, after all.
His resilience was practically cockroach-tier.
Ye Cang stared at Mr.
Yang’s weathered face with a complex expression.
“He should be fine now.
Thanks to Mr.
Yang, I think I’ve figured out how this memetic virus spreads.” Dan Heng placed his fingers on Mr.
Yang’s wrist and nodded slightly, agreeing with Ye Cang’s assessment.
“His pulse is weak, but it’s recovering.
We won’t need the defibrillator.
It’s a good thing you noticed in time…” March 7th, who had been panicking slightly, finally calmed down.
She looked at Ye Cang in surprise.
“How did you know knocking Mr.
Yang out would interrupt the memetic pollution?” Ye Cang opened his mouth to explain, but his face suddenly turned pale.
A sudden wave of impending doom washed over him, causing him to instinctively clutch his chest.
He shook his head grimly.
“From now on, nobody is allowed to ask any questions!” “Wh—” March 7th started to ask why, but Ye Cang instantly slapped a hand over her mouth.
A terrifying silence descended upon the Parlor Car, broken only by the heavy breathing of the crew and the intermittent static of electromagnetic noise.
The Express had been contaminated by the meme.
From the moment Welt Yang answered the first question, the memetic pollution had crossed half a star system from the Herta Space Station, descending upon the Astral Express.
“So this is the truth behind the memetic pollution,” Himeko murmured.
A memetic pollution spread through Q&A—as long as someone answered a question posed by an infected individual, they would be attacked by the meme…
And what kind of place was the Herta Space Station?
It was the domain of an Emanator of Erudition, gathering countless scholars and followers who hungered for knowledge.
They walked the Path of Erudition, greedily absorbing all knowledge and truth, just like the Aeon of Erudition itself.
Thus, the spread of this meme on the Herta Space Station was catastrophic.
It was like a plague!
Ye Cang had naturally realized this as well.
Coupled with the clues from his second loop, he quickly connected the dots regarding the meme’s origin, transmission, propagation, and containment.
“Now, listen to me, and don’t make a sound.” Carefully choosing his words, he spoke in a strange, halting tone.
“The meme comes from…
Nous.
He is the ‘source.’ Madam Herta is ‘Patient Zero.’ And ‘Patient One’ is…
the Herta puppets.” “Because of the sheer number of Herta puppets, ‘Patient One’ is not a single individual, but a collective.” “The transmission vectors are ‘asking and answering’ and ‘thinking.’ I suspect the medium is anything that can convey a ‘question,’ including but not limited to speech, communications, text, and even facial expressions or gestures.” “In short, everyone here has already been infected.” “Judging by the difference between our condition and Mr.
Yang’s, there is a world of difference between the severity of direct and indirect engagement.” “Because we were merely bystanders to the question, our infection is relatively mild.” “However, if we continue to engage in ‘asking and answering,’ the contamination will gradually deepen until…” “We suffer cognitive decline, or outright die.” “Therefore, I have named it—” “the memetic [Folly].” Before Ye Cang could finish, Mr.
Yang—who had been lying unconscious on the floor with a vacant expression—suddenly stirred.
A painful groan escaped his lips.
Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to him, momentarily putting Ye Cang’s bold hypothesis out of their minds.
“Mr.
Yang, are you al—mgh!” Out of habit, March 7th went to ask about his well-being.
But before “Are you alright?” could leave her lips, Ye Cang muffled her words right back down her throat.
He glared at her, snapping, “Did you literally not hear a single word I just said?
Tsk!
Keep this in mind, March!
No questions, no answers!” “Mph, mph…
mgh!” The pink-haired girl nodded vigorously.
At this point, she couldn’t care less that Ye Cang’s hand had turned her cheeks red; she could only stare at the thumb right in front of her nose, her heart pounding with lingering dread.
“March?
Little brother Ye Cang?” Mr.
Yang’s pupils slowly focused.
His weathered face, which had barely regained some color, looked as gaunt and frightening as a ghost.
He felt as though his head were swollen and about to explode.
He was in a state of complete daze and confusion.
Let alone figuring out his current situation, even trying to recall what had just happened was pure agony.
“What hap—” “Dan Heng!” Ye Cang’s pupils contracted as he roared.
*Thud!* Dan Heng reacted with lightning speed.
Before Mr.
Yang could finish his question, he delivered another swift, precise, and heavy chop to the back of his neck, knocking Welt Yang unconscious once more.
The unfinished question was snuffed out before it could form, preventing any further memetic pollution.
“Nice one!” March 7th gave a big thumbs-up.
She was thoroughly impressed by both of the men in front of her.
“Wait, why did you knock him…
Nice job!” Ye Cang had almost blurted out “why did you knock him out?”, but managed to catch himself just in time.
He sighed helplessly.
“Actually, you could have just covered his mouth.
Mr.
Yang is a crucial part of our combat strength for this trip; he needs to know the truth.”