A live stream of someone hand-making a giant white robot attracted the attention of the government,

The snap of fingers fell crisply, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, but instead of creating ripples, it stirred up a raging storm.

"Beep—! Beep—! Beep—!"

A piercing red alarm blared without warning, instantly shattering the sacred tranquility of the venue. The sound was so sharp it seemed to pierce eardrums, and ten vital signs monitors simultaneously issued near-death warnings.

The ten patients who were lying peacefully in the medical pod suddenly began to convulse violently.

Especially Zhang Li, the firefighter whose body was covered in tubes, looked like a live shrimp thrown into boiling oil, his back arching violently as he slammed against the tempered glass. Although he was under anesthesia, the primal struggle of his body caused his facial muscles to contort in agony, and a chilling "hmph" sound came from his throat.

On the big screen, the heart rate curve, which had been barely maintained, suddenly soared to 180, then plummeted to 30 in the next second. Blood pressure and blood oxygen saturation were both in the red.

"Murder! This isn't treating a patient, it's a public execution!"

"I told you not to believe it! This is murder!"

The live stream room instantly erupted in chaos, with a dense barrage of comments obscuring the screen, and a sense of panic spreading like a plague.

The entire screen is filled with exclamation marks.

"kill!"

"Power outage!"

"Call the police!"

The media reporters at the scene became agitated, their flashbulbs going off wildly, and several Western journalists with a sense of "righteousness" even tried to break through the police line, shouting "Stop the violence!"

The situation was completely out of control.

The reporter crashed into the guardrail.

To grab the headlines.

In order to get the first look at the "truth".

Wang Tao opened his arms.

Can't stop it.

They were pushed back by the crowd.

My shoe fell off.

The tie is crooked.

His face was covered in oil and sweat.

"Back off!"

Wang Tao roared.

Nobody listened.

Western journalists used their physical strength to force their way in.

Some people even tried to shove cameras against the glass of the medical pod.

"Everyone back off! Anyone who dares to bump into me... I'll lie down and pretend to be injured!" Wang Tao was covered in sweat, his arms outstretched like a mother hen protecting her chicks, but his trembling legs clearly betrayed his fear at that moment.

That's terrifying!

Old Bai isn't treating illnesses, he's clearly concocting a poisonous insect!

Just as the chaos was about to spiral out of control, Pfizer's chief consultant, Bruce Wilson, suddenly stood up from his seat in the VIP section.

The Nobel laureate showed no surprise whatsoever; instead, he wore a sneer of "I knew it," and the sense of superiority that came with possessing the truth made him look radiant.

"Stop! Cut off the power immediately! Immediately!"

Bruce strode to the edge of the stage, his voice booming and drowning out the noise of the audience. He pointed at the rows of red data, his eyes sharp as knives, and took control of the conversation.

"This is not treatment at all! This is a classic case of hyperacute rejection!"

He turned to face thousands of dark cameras around the world, speaking rapidly, each word like a bullet aimed at Bai Che: "The human body is an incredibly sophisticated system. When you force-feed that unknown metallic liquid into the bloodstream, the immune system instantly recognizes the foreign substance and releases a massive amount of cytokines. This is called a 'cytokine storm'!"

"Look at these patients! Their immune systems are going crazy, indiscriminately attacking their own organs!"

Bruce grabbed a tablet computer and slammed it to the ground, yelling in anguish, "Three minutes! Three minutes at most! These poor people will die from multiple organ failure! You're broadcasting this torture live to the whole world!"

"Whoosh—!"

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

The term "cytokine storm" is too technical, but everyone understands "death in three minutes."

The endorsement from authoritative experts, coupled with the patient's horrific reaction, instantly shattered the last shred of hope in the public's mind.

"That's not how it works! This is a normal stress response!" Su Wanqing rushed forward, wanting to explain.

But her voice was too thin.

The twelve top experts behind Bruce immediately surrounded him, opened their sophisticated portable testing equipment, and began operating the data interface outside the medical pod.

"Interleukin-6 levels exceeded 10,000!"

"C-reactive protein levels are 2,000 times higher than normal!"

"This is a severe cytokine storm! Plasma exchange is absolutely necessary, otherwise there's no saving them!"

The experts brandished their data reports, constructing an impenetrable wall of logic with dense technical jargon. That condescending academic bullying left Su Wanqing breathless. Although she was a top student, all her explanations seemed pale and powerless in the face of these seasoned veterans of medicine, who had dedicated decades to the field.

Anderson's "praise to kill" strategy revealed its ferocious fangs at this moment.

The higher the praise before, the harsher the backlash now. Those who were praying online have instantly turned into the most vicious cursers.

"Liar! Murderer!"

"Zero Boundary Technology, get off this planet!"

Amid the chaos, Bai Che, at the center of the storm, let out a soft sigh.

He stood in the center of the stage, his hands still in his pockets, looking at the group of so-called "authorities" spewing spittle before him. There was no anger or panic in his eyes, only a kind of pity... like that of someone looking at a country bumpkin entering the city for the first time.

That look in their eyes was like watching a group of monkeys pointing at the space shuttle and saying that the banana wasn't curved enough.

Bai Che lifted his foot and walked up to Bruce, who was the most emotional.

At this moment, Bruce was pointing his finger at Bai Che's nose, preparing to deliver his final judgment.

Bai Che extended a finger and gently pushed Bruce's hand away, the movement as elegant as brushing a speck of dust off his shoulder.

"Professor Bruce," Bai Che's voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly throughout the room through the headset, "You have a loud voice, but unfortunately, your vision is too narrow."

"You…" Bruce was exasperated. "The facts are right in front of us; the data doesn't lie!"

"Data doesn't lie, but people who interpret data can be stupid," Bai Che said calmly, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "You see the world with your naked eyes, and you look at pathology with a microscope from a hundred years ago, so of course you think it's a terminal illness, and that's why you reject it."

He turned around, his back to the group of furious experts, and stared into the void.

"Since you're blind, I'll turn on the lights for you."

Bai Che snapped his fingers.

"Fuxi, activate 'Full Reality Mapping Mode'."

"Yes, Father. Microscopic Horizon, activated."

The next second, a breathtaking scene unfolded.

The deep, artificial starry sky on the stadium's dome suddenly went out, plunging the surroundings into darkness. Immediately afterward, countless beams of eerie blue laser light shot out from all directions, converging above the stage.

boom!

A giant holographic projection exploded out of thin air.

It was no longer a dry data table, nor a blurry ultrasound image.

A translucent giant, fifty meters tall, rose from the ground in the center of the stadium—that was a live body model of "Patient No. 1" Zhao Tiezui!

Every organ, every blood vessel, and even every lesion is clearly visible in the finest detail.

"Magnification: 100 million times. Locked area: Abdominal aorta."

Fuxi's cold, mechanical voice sounded like a divine pronouncement.

The image zoomed in rapidly, instantly switching from a massive holographic view to a microscopic perspective. What was previously invisible to the naked eye—the interior of blood vessels—now transformed into a wide, rushing river.

The thousands of people in the audience, including Bruce, stared wide-eyed, their necks stiff as they looked up at the spectacular sight above them.

In that surging torrent of red blood, countless silver specks of light are gathering.

That's the "Shennong" nanobot army.

Contrary to Bruce's prediction, they were not attacked by the immune system. Instead, a faint glow flowed across their surface, enveloping them in which the macrophages and white blood cells, like patrolling police officers, completely ignored this massive foreign army!

The footage even clearly shows a giant macrophage extending its tentacles to touch a nanobot, then swimming away without any reaction, as if it had bumped into a sibling.

"This...how is this possible?!"

Bruce's eyes widened, his gold-rimmed glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose, and he looked as if he'd been struck by lightning. "This is biological camouflage? How could they possibly fool the MHC molecular recognition mechanism? This isn't scientific!"

"In your book, this is called unscientific." Bai Che stood under the holographic light and shadow, hands behind his back, his voice calm. "In my book, this is called 'face recognition entry'."

This is not just technology, this is art.

It was an orderly march. Hundreds of millions of silver robots, like well-trained imperial guards, precisely changed lanes, diverted traffic, and rushed straight to the lesions on the highways of the blood vessels.

Bruce was deathly pale, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. But he was, after all, a Nobel laureate, and in this desperate situation, his damned competitive spirit led him to grasp at the last straw.

"So what if you can fool the immune system!"

Bruce pointed to the huge, black tumor on the screen and roared in a hoarse voice, "That's late-stage stomach cancer! The tumor burden is enormous! If you forcefully kill these cancer cells with a robot, the cell lysis products released instantly will form deadly toxins!"

"This is 'tumor lysis syndrome'! A massive influx of potassium ions, uric acid, and phosphate can instantly overwhelm the kidneys, leading to cardiac arrest! You're making them die even faster!"

This time, even Su Wanqing's heart was in her throat.

Because Bruce is right. Killing cancer cells is easy, but how to dispose of hundreds of millions of dead cancer cells is a well-known dead end in the medical field. It's like detonating a bomb in a house; it might kill the bad guys, but it also collapses the house.

Upon hearing this, Bai Che turned to look at Bruce, his gaze as if he were looking at a primary school student still using an abacus to calculate calculus.

"kill?"

Bai Che shook his head, the smile on his lips becoming both cruel and compassionate. "Bruce, you're too violent."

"Who told you I was going to kill them?"

He raised his hand and waved it gently into the void.

"Shennong, dinner is ready."

The scene suddenly changed.

The holographic projection locked onto the hideous, terrifying black tumor.

The silver legion did not reveal its blades; instead, like a swarm of hungry piranhas, it instantly enveloped each cancer cell.

What happened next sent chills down the spines of 3.5 billion viewers worldwide, yet also gave them a strange sense of comfort.

Instead of piercing the cancer cells, the nanorobots released a pale blue mist. Catalyzed by this mist, the once-arrogant, nutrient-devouring giant cancer cell began to...melt.

It wasn't the kind of bloody, mangled explosion.

Instead, it's like ice and snow melting away.

Its twisted cell wall collapses, the genetic material in the cell nucleus is cut off, and then the entire cell structure is rapidly dismantled and reassembled.

"Real-time material analysis," Fuxi's voice rang out at the opportune moment.

"Target decomposition product: water (H2O)...accounting for 60%."

"Target decomposition products: small molecule amino acids... accounting for 35%."

"Target decomposition products: carbon dioxide... accounting for 5%."

The entire room fell silent.

Only the breathtaking images on the large screen silently proclaimed the miracle. The once murky, dark lesions were becoming clear at a visible speed. Those demons, once considered incurable diseases, were being devoured by nanobots, transforming into drops of pure water and the nutrient solution most needed by the human body.

This is hardly a cure.

This is treating cancer cells like a buffet!

"How could... how could there be such a catalytic enzyme..." A young expert from Pfizer's legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground, smashing the testing equipment in his hand to pieces. "This violates the laws of thermodynamics... this is impossible..."

Nothing is impossible.

Bai Che's voice was like a resounding bell, shattering everyone's worldview.

"This is the 'Shennong's' predation model. It takes from the people and uses it for the people. The amount of nutrients the cancer cells consume from the patient must now be returned to them."

As the last batch of cancer cells were completely broken down.

Drip—drip—drip.

The alarm on the monitor stopped abruptly.

Instead, a steady, powerful, and revitalized green heart rate curve appeared.

"Patient in bed number one, cancer cell clearance rate: 100%."

"Organ function is recovering. Physiological indicators: Excellent."

Fuxi's announcements became the final straw that broke the back of the old era.

thump.

Bruce Wilson, the authority standing at the top of the pyramid of Western medicine, stared blankly at the clear, microscopic world above him, as if his spine had been removed, and slumped in the leather chair.

Lost.

We lost completely.

This is not an advancement in medical technology; it is a crushing defeat on a civilizational level.

Bai Che stood bathed in the radiant glow of the holographic projection, silver light spilling over his shoulders, making him appear like a god walking among mortals. He looked down at the ashen-faced experts below the stage, and at Bruce, who had even wet his pants in fear.

He neither mocked nor berated.

He simply straightened his sleeves and left behind a verdict that would be recorded in human history:

"Don't blink, everyone."

Bai Che turned around, his back to the world, and strode towards the backstage.

"From this moment on, the medical textbooks you've been reading your whole lives... are officially expired."