Chapter 823: Theory of Evolution

“It sounds dangerous, but the few who can stand out here aren’t exactly normal people either,” Qi Xia remarked.

“True. Those who reach the pinnacle are either lunatics or monsters. As for the second drawback of ‘wish fulfillment,’ the so-called ‘divine arts’ were fragmented into thousands of pieces,” Earth Snake added. “It hardly resembles true ‘wish fulfillment’—those who seek wind can only have wind, those who seek rain can only have rain. So my teacher spent a long time researching two key questions: First, how can one strengthen a person’s conviction? And second, how can a person obtain multiple ‘divine arts’?”

“And then?”

“And then… he achieved an extremely significant ‘research breakthrough.'”

Before Earth Snake could elaborate on what this “breakthrough” was, Qi Xia cut him off: “So the thing on your back is part of the ‘research process.'”

“Of course…” Earth Snake chuckled bitterly. “Not just me—many of my colleagues are also part of the ‘research process.’ To offer the finest ‘breakthroughs’ to the ‘Dragon’ and the ‘Divine Beasts,’ we endured suffering no normal person could bear. Now, we’re more monstrous than actual monsters.”

Chen Junnan, growing angrier by the minute, muttered under his breath, “That ‘Heavenly Snake’ already looks deranged enough—turns out his actions are just as twisted.”

“No, my teacher is great,” Earth Snake insisted. “Our sacrifices were necessary… Besides, I volunteered to become a ‘test subject.’ This is what I chose…”

“Why the hell do you keep lying to yourself?!” Chen Junnan stepped forward, ready to argue, but Qi Xia held him back.

“Don’t try to convince him,” Qi Xia said quietly. “This might be the only belief he has left to keep himself sane. If that shatters, he’ll become a complete mad snake.”

“This…” Chen Junnan shot Earth Snake a conflicted look before reluctantly turning away.

“My teacher… always took the road less traveled…” Earth Snake laughed weakly. “Perhaps genius and madness are separated by just a single thought… He was the genius who most resembled a madman.”

“How so?” Qi Xia asked.

“Initially, his research focused on ‘how to give a person unshakable conviction.’ But after repeated experiments, he discovered that the stronger the conviction, the more insane the person becomes,” Earth Snake explained. “There seems to be a delicate tipping point—if someone goes completely mad, they lose all understanding of ‘Echoes.’ But if they’re only on the brink of madness, they can’t unleash the full power of ‘Echoes.’ The book I gave you mentioned this principle…”

Qi Xia frowned, glancing at the scattered books in the corner as fragments of memory resurfaced.

“**Catch-22**,” he blurted out.

“Exactly,” Earth Snake said with a pained smile. “On the surface, **Catch-22** states that only insane pilots can be grounded—but they must request it themselves. Yet, making such a request proves your sanity, so you’re doomed to keep flying. But Qi Xia, you know, don’t you? This despairing theory has a second part.”

“Yes,” Qi Xia nodded. “It also states that after completing 25 missions, a pilot can go home. But the rule emphasizes absolute obedience—defy orders, and you’ll never return. So, the higher-ups can endlessly increase your missions, and you can’t refuse. A cycle with no escape.”

“Doesn’t that sound like the ‘Participants’ and the ‘Zodiacs’?” Earth Snake let out a hollow chuckle.

“Yes. We’re all trapped by the rules,” Qi Xia agreed.

“So my brilliant teacher had a sudden epiphany… If people with strong convictions inevitably go mad, why not start with the madmen themselves?” Earth Snake said.

“You mean the ‘Natives’?” Qi Xia asked.

“Exactly… Here, madness is everywhere, ripe for the taking,” Earth Snake grinned. “There are even more lunatics than ‘Participants.’ Combined, the ‘Natives’ from many cities could form an army of the insane… If these madmen could wield ‘divine arts’… wouldn’t that create the most formidable ‘Divine Army’? They lack free will, making them easier to control than any ‘Participant.’ And if they die from the backlash of ‘divine arts,’ it’s no loss—just another mindless corpse.”

Qin Dingdong’s expression darkened. “I can hardly agree that your teacher was a ‘genius’… He seems crazier than anyone else.”

“No, he wasn’t as mad as the ‘Natives,'” Earth Snake countered. “For a long time, his research focused on how to grant ‘divine arts’ to them.”

Qi Xia pondered for a moment. “So how did he do it?”

“He tried many methods,” Earth Snake said. “Emotional stimulation first, then pushing them to the brink of breakdown, escalating to physical beatings… But none worked. The ‘Natives,’ devoid of reason, felt neither emotional shifts nor physical pain. Though they might cower from violence, nothing could ignite their inner ‘Echoes.’ My teacher told me… they were like mindless beasts.”

“Beasts…?” Qi Xia found the term tragic—these people hadn’t needed to become beasts.

“I told you, my teacher was a true genius…” Earth Snake said mockingly. “If they’re ‘beasts,’ then the solution is to ‘evolve’ them…”

A terrifying grin spread across Earth Snake’s face.

“Do you know the one indispensable step in human evolution?” He turned to Qi Xia, his expression steeped in unresolved sorrow.

“I’d say every step was indispensable,” Qi Xia replied. “Which one did your mad teacher fixate on?”

“Cannibalism…” Earth Snake whispered. “Though modern human DNA forbids it with prion warnings, fossil evidence from tens or hundreds of thousands of years ago bears the teeth marks of our ancestors devouring each other. My teacher theorized… that the quickest way for early humans to grow stronger was to consume their own kind.”

“Then he truly was insane,” Qi Xia said.

“Insane… but successful,” Earth Snake laughed. “I witnessed the most horrifying sight of my life… A group of mindless people tearing into each other… And then, one of them actually triggered an ‘Echo.'”