Ah Q may be subject to ridicule and contempt, but who knows how many people in the world today are Ah Qs without realizing it? At least he lived happier than most, didn't he?
So Gale doesn't mind occasionally cosplaying as Ah Q.
"By the way, 8051, it seems like the sensing range of the small cells I control is much larger than that of other small cells? Other small cells seem to only perceive things within the range of a single cilium's length; they have to bump into something to know it's there."
[The main cell's perception is composed of its biological sensory and the main consciousness's partially diffused psychic perception. The reason the main cell's perception range is larger than others of its kind is that it possesses diffused psychic perception, which normal small cells lack. System 8051 responds per protocol.]
"Is there a way to expand the perception range, 8051?"
[Yes. The methods currently provided by the system are: 1. Obtain more advanced sensory components. 2. Enhance the biological body's psychic capacity. System 8051 responds.]
"I'm already looking everywhere for components myself."
"Enhance psychic capacity? How is that done? Any tips from the system, 8051?"
[No, please explore on your own. The system 8051 repeats this message.]
"Are those the only two methods, 8051?"
[The system currently offers only those two method suggestions. Please explore other methods independently. The system 8051 repeats this message.]
"Tch, stingy fellow."
[The system is doing its utmost to protect you by encouraging self-evolution under your fragile psyche. System 8051 explains.]
"Fine, fine."
"Finding better sensory components depends on luck, I guess."
"…"
"Ah, so asking all these questions amounted to nothing."
"Oh right, I just got a new component, didn't I? Let's see what it is. Exciting!"
Ending the “ineffective” conversation with 8051, Gale focused his attention on the holographic display.
[Small Cell
Primitive single-celled life form, early-stage species in biological evolution.
Life: 7/7
Attack: 2
Speed: 3
Nutrient Value: 78
DNA Components: Primitive cell mouth hook, Cilia ×3, Spikes ×2
You’ve been a single-celled organism for a long time now, and it seems like you're somewhat adapting to this world. But you still long for interaction—whether it's through eye contact, speech, gestures, or even deeper communication. However, these seem distant prospects. For now, you are merely a small single cell striving towards multicellular evolution.]
"Tch, what does 'deeper communication' even mean?"
"Never mind, I'll ignore you."
"My lovely new component, your master is here, haha!"
Skillfully opening the component display window, Gale focused his attention on the quietly floating new component in the fifth slot.
[Ocellus
Light sensor, a component that grants the cell a basic ability to perceive light intensity.
Cost: 10 (Nutrient Value) (Can be purchased and equipped)]
"It's an eye! Didn't expect to find a sensory component so soon after discussing it. Lucky."
"Finally, I can see the world with open eyes. The colorful world!" (Clearly, Gale ignores the difference between a primitive ocellus and a full-fledged eye, but that's just how it is.)
Calming his excitement, though without a heart organ to worry about overexcitement, Gale, in his spiritual state, wasn’t worried about heart failure.
Focusing on the ocellus, just as Gale was about to equip it, he hesitated.
"Wait, do I have enough nutrient points? I also want to equip the electrode I've long desired. Better make sure it's possible."
Turning his attention to the nutrient value.
"Hooray, I've accumulated 78 points this time."
"Let's see, equipping the electrode costs 50 points. An ocellus is 10 points, but I can't be a cyclops, so that's 20 for two. That's a total of 70 points, plus another 5 for evolutionary division."
"Ah, currency—the eternal inadequacy in every place, time, and form. Good thing I kept 3 points as a buffer, but after this, I’ll need to quickly find more food."
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Seeing the nutrient value meet his needs, Gale eagerly placed the two ocelli symmetrically on either side of the small cell's front, near the base of the spikes.
Then, with a heart full of mixed emotions at achieving his goal, Gale reminisced about the struggles since his first entry into the biological editing space, as he finally equipped the long-desired electrode component.
“Now I’m practically invincible, hehe.”
“Of course, among single-celled organisms.”
“Well, among the known single-celled organisms.”
Despite feeling increasingly disheartened by this thought, Gale tried to brush it off while calming his excitement a bit.
Attaching the electrode component just beneath the mouth hook, Gale admired the now formidable-looking small cell. The two front spikes gleamed coldly, with three cilia providing decent speed. The newly equipped electrode promised lethal strikes, while the ocelli granted basic vision.
Nodding with satisfaction, Gale relaxed a bit, later joking—or rather, engaging with 8051 emotionally.
Struggling to think of further questions, Gale concluded this editing session.
[Small Cell
Primitive single-celled life form, early-stage species in biological evolution.
Life: 10/10
Attack: 5
Speed: 3
Nutrient Value: 8
DNA Components: Primitive cell mouth hook, Cilia ×3, Spikes ×2, Electrode, Ocellus ×2
This evolution makes you a formidable presence among single-celled organisms. Although still a single cell, you can bully other less numerous single cells. However, against other heavily clustered single cells and the multicellular bosses you still can’t defeat, your pressure hasn’t decreased. Keep working hard, you think, feeling daunted.]
"Tch, always leaves me speechless."
"Guess I'll keep increasing the numbers."
"See you next time, dear 8051."
[Biological editing complete, consciousness entering small cell.]
[Consume 5 nutrient points for evolutionary division.]
[Warning, your nutrient value is below the safe level of 6, please replenish nutrients soon.]
“Why don’t these eyes show color?”
“Huh, what is color?”
“There’s not even any light.”
The newly evolved small cell wobbled its seemingly head-like front end, the nearly invisible ocelli at the base of its spikes moving slightly.
“Could it be broken? That’s unlikely.”
“What does ‘broken’ mean?”
“Maybe there’s just no light in this area.”
“What is light, anyway?”
“That must be it.”
Confused and inexplicably frustrated, the small cell twitched its respiratory membrane a few times. Habitually instructing its surrounding companions to accumulate nutrients for evolution, the small cell chose a random direction to swim toward.
The surroundings remained pitch black, devoid of any light.
The ocelli seemingly had no effect.
Switching to another perspective—this time, a powerful multicellular organism, unnamed for laziness, so we'll call it One-eye for its distinctive black visual organ, in addition to a moderately-sized mouth and two flagella.
Today, One-eye continued carefree swimming.
Originally, One-eye lived in a place awash with light. But one day, the mischievous One-eye swam in the wrong direction, plunged into a fast current, and ended up in this dark place, where its photosensitive organ detected not a flicker of light. Fortunately, few organisms could threaten it here, and although the space lacked abundant organic matter, the plentiful single-celled organisms satisfied One-eye greatly.
Still, a glimmer of hope for light remained.
Hmm?!
Mid-swing, One-eye was startled.
Just now, a flash seemed to pass by, but after a tiny loop with its eye, the earlier sight felt like an illusion. For One-eye, merely a small multicellular microorganism, illusions were far-off concepts, yet it opted to disregard the fleeting glimmer, despite its longing.
After several loops yielded nothing, One-eye resumed its leisurely swim.
Yet today, One-eye's desire for light might just be realized briefly. On the verge of resuming its aimless wander, One-eye spotted a faint glimmer to its left front. In this long-darkened space, it was unmistakably conspicuous, not vanishing but mischievously reappearing after disappearing from view.
One-eye was thrilled.
Light, even if fleeting, was eternal in its sight.
Long-absent, the light drew One-eye like an oasis in a desert. It vigorously swung its two flagella, maximizing its potential, swimming vigorously toward the persistent glimmer. Despite the distant seeming distance, One-eye’s dash rapidly closed the gap.
Almost there!
One-eye felt the glowing seemed to multiply, spurring its swim with renewed vigor.
At last, One-eye neared the light source.
Were there a few single cells near the light?
Perplexed, One-eye paid little heed, the light’s allure overpowering curiosity about these anomalies, swimming toward the bright spots.
Why is it dark again?
As One-eye approached those glowing cells, the small cells before it and the surrounding non-glowing ones suddenly scattered like headless flies. The light had ceased flickering long before.
Displeased, One-eye’s hunger stirred.
So, it lunged at nearby single cells, voraciously consuming several.
Then, the scattering cells seemed to reorganize, splitting into three groups, swimming in different directions.
Unfazed, One-eye turned toward the nearest cluster, pursuing it. But these miserable creatures moved swiftly, vanishing after consuming only a few.
Still yearning for light, One-eye resumed its aimless swim. Lacking a brain, it didn’t dwell on the event, whereas the pursued small cells certainly didn’t share its leisure.
“Why did another multicellular show up?”
The small cell helplessly twisted its round body, and upon ensuring it wasn’t pursued, collected its scattered companions, pondering the encounter.
Upon exiting the biological editor, the main consciousness cell realized the nutrient points spent on ocelli seemed wasted. Frustrated, it chose a direction post departure, then encountered a common cluster of hostile single cells. With rampant reproduction, single-cell numbers rose, not crowded but frequently clustering within the time it took to expend a bit of nutrients—considered rather fortunate.
“The ocelli were useless, but at least the electrode should work.”
With that thought, the small cell, the only one with an electrode component, led three companions ahead at full speed, directing the group to catch up, then accelerated towards the hostiles.
Nearing them, the hostiles sensed danger through water disturbances, initiating a skirmish.
Unsurprisingly, the small cell’s slightly superior perception always ensured it attacked only assured victories, emphasizing the process over outcome.
Continuing its habitual tactic of overwhelming with more against fewer, leaving one enemy relatively unharmed—not out of nonexistent mercy, but to safely test the electrode component.
Struggling to direct three companions while dodging spikes and restricting the enemy, the small cell charged forward.
“Charge energy, fire!”
