The scarlet index of the Nasdaq electronic screen suddenly distorted into images of carnal lust. Three hundred red-haired replicants straddle traders' laps, their selfie-stick lenses sweeping across each workstation as the title of the broadcast flashes, "The Lateral Stocks of the Financial Giants." As the first replicant ripped open her shirt, the real-time chart of the Dow Jones suddenly transformed into a DNA double-helix structure, each base pair a sneak peek video from a different angle.
"Turn off the power!" Ethan kicked open the door to the main control room, only for the sapphire cufflinks to burst into flames as they scanned his iris. He watched as the footage of his entanglement with Violet on a stormy night was slowed down, the surveillance time showing three years ago - just seven days after Amber's funeral.
"Like my mixing technique?" Violet's projection appeared on each monitor, her post-surgical voice wrapped in an erotic rasp, "Your heart rate is 12% faster than it was that night." When Ethan smashes the main console, the encrypted files are suddenly sent automatically: all the videos are embedded with the old Benson's voiceprint code, which unravels into twenty years of Swiss bank money laundering records.
The trading floor suddenly resounds with baby cries, and three hundred clones simultaneously lift their skirts - holographic pregnancy tests emerge on their tiny bellies, and the embryonic DNA is identical to the clones at the auction. As the first trader foams at the mouth and collapses, Ethan realizes that the rose petals floating down from the vents are emblazoned with the sperm bank's logo.
Deep in the cracks of the Central Park earth, the archaeological team's searchlight illuminates the Russian incantations on the bronze coffin. As hydraulic pliers cut the last of the chains, the friction of the lid sliding open startles crows across the city. In the beam of the coroner's flashlight, the old Benson's body was returning to blood at a rate visible to the naked eye, black mucus oozing out of the bullet hole in his chest and converging in the bottom of the coffin to form the Benson Group stock code.
"This can't be ..." The chief archaeologist shuddered as he took notes: the body had new 2019 Rolex crushed diamonds embedded in its fingernail crevices, and the DNA of the wrist bones was an exact match to the pregnant woman who had fallen three days earlier. As he tries to take photos for evidence, a green mist suddenly rises from the coffin, and the intercom transmits a reservation for the presidential suite-exactly Jared and Lila's wedding anniversary.
As the clock strikes midnight, Benson Sr.'s eyelids snap open. His rotting vocal cords vibrated the encrypted frequency band, and all the streetlights in the park burst in response. In absolute darkness, three hundred clones crawl out of the ground, holding up torches rolled from the pages of the Trust Act, and all that floats in the firelight are the deeds of murder signed by Jared.
The containment glass at the Manhattan CDC is shattered with spiderweb cracks. The first infected person kisses the medical staff through the shield, his pupils splitting into compound eye structures, each eyeball reflecting Violet's rose tattoo. As the mutated virus jetted down the salivary glands, the emergency vehicle's siren suddenly switched to the Wedding March.
"The mode of transmission is intimate contact!" The epidemiologist screams from the autopsy table. Miniature roses grow on the dead man's tongue, and cameras in the stamens are live-streaming from Etanh's private bathroom. When the presidential secret service breaks down the door, they find cloned cells wriggling under the skin of all the dignitaries, each nucleus engraved with the Benson family crest.
Violet's avatar suddenly takes over the worldwide web as she rips open her protective suit to reveal her radiation-mutated body, "This is true herd immunity." As the screen switches, a bidding page pops up on the private computers of the heads of state - the starting price is 300 million dollars, and the bid is for a "serum to stop the extinction of the human race".
The billboards in Times Square collectively go black for three seconds, and suddenly a doomsday-themed TikTok challenge plays. Three hundred red-haired replicants danced in the flames, and the soundtrack was a recording of Jared's mother's dying gasp. As the number of hits tops a billion, all the participants' cell phones suddenly explode, splattering shards of glass in the air to spell out a countdown.
Lila refreshes the live stream in the toilet cubicle of the mental hospital and realizes that her face has been swapped by the AI to each of the clones. When a pop-up window pops up with the message "LIKE AND RETWEET TO LIVE, SPECTATORS DIE", she frantically retweets the video, her fingernails scraping sparks on the screen. Suddenly, a pair of cold hands covered her eyes, and Violet's whispered words mixed with the smell of blood came out: "Remember how many scandals you retweeted about me before the yacht exploded?"
The incinerator downstairs suddenly roars to life and a hologram of old Benson rises from the ashes. His new will is read out, leaving his entire estate to the "most popular short-form video creator," and real-time votes show that Lila is being "stomped" into the dead zone at a rate of 3 million per minute.
[Act 5: The Ultimate Auction of Serum and Lies]
Sotheby's underground vault is transformed into a giant petri dish as Ethan's cloned serum boils in liquid nitrogen. As the auction gavel falls, the dome suddenly descends into a glass cage, transforming the bidders into exhibits.Violet makes her entrance on a red carpet of mutant roses, a scalpel slashes across her wrist, and blue blood mingles with the serum in an iridescent swirl.
"Each drop of blood buys ten minutes of sobriety." She plunged the test tube into the heart of the old Benson corpse, "but the price of truth is ..." The corpse suddenly sits up, its rotting fingers jabbing at the big screen, and Jared's confessional video from the wreckage of the yacht begins to play, each of his "I killed Amber "s corresponding to a raised bid.
When the price reaches a billion dollars, the vault wall suddenly collapses. The Hudson River rushes in, wrapped around three hundred redheaded corpses, each holding up an insulin pen with the date engraved on it, and Violet rips off her human mask in the rapids, revealing half of Amber's burned face: "Game over, dear murderers."
(End of chapter)
Next Chapter Preview:
A platinum lighter salvaged from the wreckage of a yacht sets Wall Street ablaze as three hundred floating corpses spell out confessions on financial statements. When Etanh's surveillance video reveals that he's the bombing culprit, the bulletproof glass of a psychiatric hospital is suddenly crawling with cloned embryos. And at this very moment, the torch of the Statue of Liberty is being replaced with a DNA double helix model ...