After walking a full three kilometers to reach the nearest exit, they were met by a vast parking lot filled with luxury cars, none costing less than eight figures. After all, anyone who could afford to be here was both wealthy and distinguished, and wouldn't be caught dead in a beat-up vehicle.
The car was self-driving, with no human chauffeur. Jiang Ye’s family boarded, the route already pre-set. A simple tap initiated its automatic ascent and flight.
The Second Officer Hospital on Zhigao Star was unimaginably vast, almost a small city in itself. All the buildings were a dazzling pure white, as if made of some special rock. Countless luxury vehicles were taking off and landing, resembling a flock of birds.
The car came to a halt, and a nurse was already waiting.
The nurse possessed a rather peculiar aura. She smiled at Jiang Ye’s family, her smile carrying an indescribable quality.
“My unit visited Jiang Ye Star three hundred years ago,” the nurse began immediately.
Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng were startled.
“Were you perhaps…” Jiang Ye inquired.
“That was all in the past. I’m just a little nurse here now,” the nurse replied with a smile. “Follow me, the surgery is ready.”
The hospital interior was incredibly luxurious, more akin to an interstellar hotel than a medical facility. Wool carpets and wooden walls, crystal chandeliers undulating like tidal waves, and instead of the scent of disinfectant, there was a fragrance like flowers. There were no emaciated, weary patients in sight, nor were there medical staff rushing with surgical beds. The people on this planet rarely suffered from terminal illnesses, and even minor ailments were uncommon. Industrial accidents were practically unheard of. This place served more as a venue for life extension.
Jiang Senlin was first taken for a comprehensive physical examination. Over a hundred machines were involved, and the check-up lasted more than two hours.
Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng waited in the corridor, watching their son undergo the examination through the glass wall.
Soon, a doctor emerged, holding a folder.
“The physical examination is complete, and we have obtained the child’s complete data. There are no issues, and the surgery can commence at any time. However, there is one matter to confirm before the procedure,” the doctor stated with a rather serious expression.
“Please, go ahead,” Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng said in unison.
“According to the records, this child is a painter, a gifted one with high artistic attainment, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“If we perform surgery to alter his age, his brain structure and certain hormones and organ states within his body will change. There is a high probability that this will affect his talent,” the doctor explained. “We have had such cases before. With an age change of only ten years, some talents were completely lost, though others were enhanced.”
“What are the child’s wishes?” Jiang Ye asked.
“Senlin has agreed. We came out to ask for the guardians’ opinion.”
“If the child agrees, we have no objections,” Jiang Ye said.
Cen Yemeng nodded.
“Very well, then please sign here. The surgery will begin in five minutes,” the doctor said, handing over the folder.
Jiang Ye had initially assumed that Jiang Senlin would be anesthetized first, then placed inside a large medical device, and after a period of time, like magic, he would be brought out as a handsome, dashing young man.
However, the doctor presented Jiang Senlin with a desk and a computer.
The computer was installed with a game, a zombie apocalypse-themed survival game. Players needed to control their characters, constantly searching for supplies—drinks from stores, food from restaurants, medicine from hospitals—to sustain themselves. Simultaneously, zombies would suddenly appear, and players could choose to fight or flee. Whether they fought or fled, more zombies would be attracted.
The doctor taught Jiang Senlin the tutorial level, then instructed him:
“For the next hour, what you need to do is focus intently on the screen and play this game. Absolutely do not stop to rest, nor look around randomly. As long as you survive in the game for this hour, the surgery will be complete.”
Jiang Senlin nodded, and the game began.
He spawned in a hospital, being frantically chased by zombies dressed as doctors and nurses. Many patients had already been bitten, and the corridor walls were covered in blood.
Jiang Senlin immediately tensed up, one hand on the mouse and the other on the keyboard, controlling his character as he fled madly.
He dodged the zombie hospital director like a phantom, occasionally smashing zombie heads with a IV stand, climbing to the rooftop via a drainpipe outside the window, and using medical alcohol to craft Molotov cocktails. Jiang Senlin soon became excited, realizing he could pull off many impressive maneuvers. The game’s freedom and combat mechanics were incredibly immersive.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng stood in the corridor, watching their son through the glass wall.
A miraculous transformation began to occur.
The wrinkles on Jiang Senlin’s face started to fade, his straw-like hair began to fall out, and new, shinier hair grew in. Time flowed backward within him, his body reversing its aging process, much like rusted red iron regaining its smooth, gray-iron appearance.
Jiang Senlin’s attention remained fixed on the game until some of his falling hair landed on his forehead.
Jiang Senlin paused for a moment, instinctively reaching up to touch it.
But he quickly remembered the doctor’s instructions: play the game for an hour.
In that moment of distraction, the screen flashed red several times as the cunning zombie director landed a successful attack. Jiang Senlin quickly refocused, wielding the IV stand to unleash a combo, sending the director flying through the air. Simultaneously, he slid into the morgue to take cover and injected himself with medicine to heal.
An even more dramatic change began to take place. Jiang Senlin’s cervical spine made a “crack” sound, and then the sound traveled down his spine to his entire body, finally reaching his fingers and toes.
Jiang Senlin’s expression contorted, his teeth gritted.
Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng watched with aching hearts as their son’s body began to grow taller. Was it very painful?
“Don’t worry, it’s just very itchy, not painful,” a voice said.
Jiang Ye and Cen Yemeng turned to see the doctor standing beside them, hands in his pockets, looking remarkably calm.
“Doctor, how is this possible? Why does playing a game make him younger?” Cen Yemeng asked. “Has he been given medication beforehand?”
“The entire room is a medical device, a high-dimensional machine. The specific mechanisms are quite complex; explaining them to you would likely require a dedicated tutorial class,” the doctor explained. “Having him play the game is simply to observe his condition.”
“The mouse and keyboard are equipped with bio-electrical sensors, and the chair and desk also contain scanning equipment. The computer camera captures his eye movements, pupil dilation, and breathing rate. The game data reflects his state,” the doctor continued. “The difficulty of this game is automatically adjusted based on the player. As long as he maintains a good state and doesn’t get distracted, he won’t lose health. If he loses too much health, or even if his character dies, it indicates his physical condition is not optimal, and we might need to pause the surgery.”
“Furthermore, some patients experience psychological issues and overreactions when witnessing such drastic bodily changes. Keeping his attention focused on the game helps ensure the surgery’s smooth completion,” the doctor smiled. “You can rest assured, we perform thousands of these surgeries at our hospital annually, with only a handful interrupted over decades. Failures are virtually nonexistent.”
Jiang Ye nodded, having suspected the game served such a purpose.
With a tearing sound, Jiang Senlin’s clothes were already being stretched apart.