Murphy had been feverish for two days, but when he woke up, he felt as if he had shed a layer of skin. His condition had improved significantly; the dreadful feeling of imminent death was gone, along with the hidden aches and fatigue. His appetite had also increased significantly, constantly feeling hungry upon waking.
The medical team extracted his body tissues for testing, which confirmed the improvement. "The aging of your body cells has been alleviated. We tested the epithelial cells and found their lifespan extended, allowing for four to five more divisions."
"However, although the genetically modified virus repaired some cell damage, your genetic defect is still accumulating damage that current technology struggles to repair."
"Until we find a better solution, you should avoid using transformation abilities or consuming transformation potions to prevent aggravating the condition."
Murphy didn't expect a one-time solution and wasn't too disappointed.
In the following days, he made some arrangements at the institute, assigning more staff to the vampire gene research team, raising its priority to the highest level, on par with the transformation and spell research teams. This allowed maximum resource allocation.
If they could make another major breakthrough, such as finding key anti-aging genes or significantly enhancing cell repair techniques, he might not even need the Philosopher's Stone.
On the other hand, Umbrella's recruitment of cancer cell markers was also progressing steadily.
He had established rules for their subsequent arrangements and workflow, and Boris had recruited several professional managers to be in charge. The marker's entry and the process of joining his mental network unknowingly were conducted as per Muggle workplace standards, with nothing too out of the ordinary.
In the institute, he had also prepared over a hundred groups of bacterial colonies with communicative Mind Seeds and set up a timed feeding mechanism.
Once the sample marking work was on track, he would only need to send marking information and feedback results before and after sample feeding.
With his body temporarily free from the risk of sudden death, Murphy felt relieved and turned his attention back to the Philosopher's Stone.
Had Tom pulled himself together?
He still had work to do; he couldn't remain down forever.
Moreover, the task of obtaining the Philosopher's Stone was still imposed on him, and he lacked motivation. He needed to willingly want to do it.
The soul's dark night had lasted long enough; it was time to move on to the next scene.
However, he needed to find a suitable opportunity.
...
Tom was in a daze these past few days.
Harry and Ron tried hard to cheer him up, and they did provide great comfort, but he didn't improve much. He didn't even know how to begin telling them about his real predicament.
After all, he himself hadn't fully figured out what was happening.
He still didn't know his true identity and was unclear why the notebook chose him.
He didn't know what was real or what to believe.
All clues seemed to indicate that his situation was dire, but there was one certainty among these confusing signals: the notebook couldn't be trusted. It was using him, trying to make him obtain the Philosopher's Stone for its resurrection.
He didn't want to be manipulated by the notebook anymore.
He even tried to destroy it.
But regular spells seemed ineffective. He used nearly all the spells he knew and tried many potions, even fire, acid, and stabbing, but nothing harmed the notebook.
If magic didn't work, what about Muggle weapons?
While learning about those experimental methods, he learned a lot about Muggle things from Professor Murphy, some of which seemed very powerful...
But before he could think of a method, another more urgent problem made him abandon this thought.
The notebook's phrase "you are already dead" – what did it mean?
It seemed not to be an exaggeration.
To verify this, he prepared a bottle of Living Death potion. After drinking it, his body became extremely heavy, but he remained conscious and could still control his body.
If it was just that the potion didn't work on him, it didn't make sense - he experimented with a needle on his skin and felt no pain.
The potion seemed to only isolate his body's sensations, putting it to sleep, but his soul remained awake.
His soul and body were not in sync, which was obviously abnormal.
He visited the library many times, researching death and souls. He did find some explanations for these phenomena.
He learned that some dark magic could control corpses, even making them appear alive with heartbeats and breathing.
But even the most advanced reanimated corpses didn't possess souls, making them immune to most mind-related magic, and effects that could impact the brain were also ineffective on them.
This raised his hopes momentarily, as he believed he still had a soul.
But then he remembered the memory of Tom Riddle's conversation with a professor about that particular magic.
If a soul fragment could be stored in an object, couldn't a soul be stored in a body?
Perhaps the notebook – or Voldemort – used some unknown dark magic to imprison his soul in this living corpse?
This speculation depressed him.
If he was indeed dead, if he was just a ghost in a corpse's shell, then perhaps the only way to truly live was to obtain the Philosopher's Stone.
That might be why the notebook revealed the truth to him.
He couldn't resist, could he?
As the task said, to survive, he must obtain the Philosopher's Stone, no matter what.
...
"Tom." On the third day of Christmas, after dinner, Harry quietly called Tom and pulled him into a corner. "Tonight at ten, we'll be outside the Slytherin common room waiting for you."
"What?" Tom didn't quite understand.
"We found something amazing; you have to come see!"
"Sorry, I don't feel like going out, but thanks for the invitation..."
"No, it's not a surprise party..." Ron said. "Really, Tom! You have to see it!"
Tom hesitated. Since that day, he had been like a walking dead, likely not able to sleep tonight either.
Should he continue to stay in the dorm alone, pondering unsolvable problems?
That seemed utterly unhelpful.
"Tom..." The two young wizards looked at him expectantly.
They really seemed to want to cheer him up.
A light bubble rose in his heart's dark mire, giving him a flicker of warmth. "Okay."
"Great!" Harry and Ron exclaimed excitedly. "You won't be disappointed!"
___________________
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