VHBF -Chapter 133 The Bigshot Researcher Daddy (Extra 1)

For Mo Linqing, there were two accidents in his life.

One was that one day, all of a sudden, there was a small, soft, clingy little daughter in his life.

The other was one day hearing his daughter call him bad daddy. That feeling was just like—suddenly seeing a drool-soaked tooth mark on Yinyin’s face…

He realized that there was another person inside his body. Strictly speaking, he had developed a second personality.

This personality was rebellious, domineering, carefree, willful, always itching to stir up trouble. Especially after Mo Linqing discovered just how dangerous it was—this was a personality with no sense of morality. At any moment, for some reason or another, it might secretly plot to cause chaos, for example—creating a virus to destroy the world.

Mo Linqing once made a hypothesis: if Mo Yinyin, this daughter, had never existed in his life, would he have been able to discover the existence of the secondary personality at all?

If that uncontrollable secondary personality had no people or things in this world that it loved or was attached to, would it have recklessly created turmoil, or even… destroyed everything?

Later, Mo Linqing learned some of the testimonies given by Lin Ju and Li Jiaxing. They claimed that they had transmigrated and been reborn, swearing up and down that “he” would become a great villain in the future who would destroy the world and take pleasure in tormenting others.

As the Z serum was rolled out, terminally ill patients across the country—and even around the world—were saved. Mo Linqing was hailed as the Father of Biopharmaceuticals, worshipped and adored with fanatic devotion by countless people who had been granted new life.

As time passed—half a year, a year, two years—patients who had been injected with the drug were lively and energetic, their bodies even healthier than before they fell ill. Some hidden ailments were cured as well, fully proving the formidable efficacy of the Z serum.

By then, no one believed the words Lin Ju and Li Jiaxing had once said. People only thought they had been grasping at straws in desperation, fabricating stories of so-called “saving the world.”

Mo Linqing received countless honors. He won many international awards. People who had been cured all over the world—including many wealthy tycoons and high-ranking officials—banded together to establish a foundation in Mo Linqing’s name and created a medical award.

This international, civilian medical award gained widespread recognition. Researchers in the biopharmaceutical field regarded winning it as the highest honor—one could even say it was the most prestigious award in the entire biopharmaceutical world.

By this time, Mo Linqing had already reached the rank of academician. He was a representative figure in Huaguo’s pharmaceutical field, and one of the world’s top ten most influential figures of the past decade.

People respected him, revered him, admired him. No one doubted any of his words or actions.

Only Mo Linqing knew that if—there had been no clingy little Yinyin by his side, if he had never discovered the existence of his other personality—

Then, just as Lin Ju and Li Jiaxing had said, those things were extremely likely to have happened.

This was a conclusion Mo Linqing had arrived at through countless deductions.

In his spare time, Mo Linqing sought out psychological experts, consulted on related issues, studied psychology on his own, and even obtained certification. Both the experts and he himself told him that if one wanted to cure dissociative identity disorder, there was only one way: the two personalities had to merge into one, bringing the secondary personality into his consciousness—two becoming one, with no second consciousness. Only then could it be considered true healing.

Dissociative identity disorder is strictly different from schizophrenia. Schizophrenia involves an inability to maintain clear consciousness, with a certain degree of confusion. But in Mo Linqing’s case, two independent consciousnesses coexisted in the same brain. While existing independently, both were like normal people—clear-headed, capable of independent thought, even more outstanding than the average person.

Mo Linqing went twice to friends who studied psychology. Every time hypnosis was about to begin, Yinyin’s milky voice calling out good daddy and bad daddy would always appear in his ears and interfere.

She said:

“Daddy, I haven’t seen bad daddy in a long time. Do you miss him? Anyway, Yinyin misses him.”

“Daddy, bad daddy took me to the plaza today, and even bought me a little piggy kite. It was super fun!”

“Daddy, bad daddy kissed me—so what about you?”

“Aiya, if daddy doesn’t take the initiative soon, Yinyin is going to be biased toward bad daddy!”

“…”

Naturally, the hypnosis never succeeded. After Mo Linqing gave up on merging the secondary personality, his life became extremely “exciting.”

It could be described as complete chaos.

—

After becoming an academician, there were not many projects that required Mo Linqing to personally lead them. He had practically reached the pinnacle of his field and entered an early retirement phase of raising his child.

The annual Children’s Day on June 1st was a day of absolute chaos.

This holiday had nothing to do with Academician Mo—but his daughter did. This year, she had just entered the senior class of kindergarten and was a true little social butterfly among kids.

Yinyin was simply too happy. Her sixth birthday happened to fall on Children’s Day.

Early in the morning, Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle, Auntie, Cousin, and Brother Guoguo all called Yinyin and sent gifts over with drivers.

A whole car full of presents. Yinyin sat in the pile of gifts, cupping her chubby cheeks and smiling in contentment. With a sigh, she said, “Daddy, does this mean I’m rich now?”

“No wonder the little girl NiuNiu in our class wished that she could receive gifts every day. YinYin used to think she was being too greedy, but now YinYin thinks that wish is really good.”

Yinyin looked at her dad with sparkling eyes. “Because—because YinYin has also experienced the happiness of receiving gifts, so—so…”

Mo Linqing lowered his head to look at his daughter. Yinyin was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, surrounded by gifts—dolls, plush toys, snacks, pretty little dresses—everything imaginable.

She casually scooped up an armful of presents and hugged them to her chest, tilting her small head a little shyly, her cheeks flushed red. “So, Daddy, when I eat cake on my birthday this year, can YinYin make a wish to receive gifts every year?”

“Why not every day?” Mo Linqing asked.

“Because,” she said seriously, “stories say that being too greedy is bad. YinYin wants to save some good fortune for Daddy!”

“Daddy is already so good…”

Yinyin chattered on like a little chatterbox, counting her gifts one by one, counting happily.

At six years old, Yinyin was still utterly innocent. Even though she lacked nothing, just one pretty little dress was enough to make her happy—happy enough to talk about it nonstop until tomorrow.

Mo Linqing counted along with her. He thought that even at eight, eighteen, or eighty, she would still be his innocent little girl.

Bad Daddy always liked to bully Yinyin. At her sixth birthday banquet, he suddenly appeared and turned everything upside down.

He stole bites of Yinyin’s cake and hid all those treasure-like gifts she had received, leaving behind only an ugly handmade doll he himself had given.

Yinyin exploded with anger.

After causing trouble, Bad Daddy disappeared. Yinyin knew she couldn’t take her anger out on others, and facing Good Daddy, she couldn’t bring herself to say “hmph” at him.

So she turned her still-round little body away, pointing the back of her head at her dad.

Even if he wasn’t the same person, he was still Daddy—he should bear at least a little bit of her anger.

The day after the birthday party, the secondary personality came out again. Yinyin was clever now. She coaxed Daddy, saying she wanted to eat the egg cakes from that very popular shop on East Street. As long as Daddy bought them for her, YinYin wouldn’t be angry anymore.

Mo Linqing snapped his fingers. Wasn’t that easy?

He grabbed his car keys and went out.

He even deliberately put on a mask. The main personality’s fans were really annoying—wherever he went, people surrounded him, taking photos and asking for autographs.

Ignorant masses!

In the huge living room, Yinyin and the big dog Dudu sat on the floor. Yinyin picked up the phone book and started dialing, one call after another.

First… Grandpa.

Mo Guosheng received his granddaughter’s call early in the morning and was in an excellent mood. He almost answered instantly, and the soft, sweet voice of his granddaughter came through the line.

“Grandpa, Daddy bullied me.”

Mo Guosheng raised an eyebrow.

“He snatched my gifts, ate my cake, and even broke one of my little teddy bear toys.”

Mo Guosheng snorted. “Wait there—Grandpa will avenge you! That little brat!”

Yinyin hung up and covered her mouth, giggling secretly. She didn’t stop—she immediately dialed again.

“Grandma? Is Grandpa there too?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just… just that the gifts you gave YinYin yesterday were snatched away by Bad Daddy…”

Old Master Su and Old Madam Su: “!!!!”

“Hello, Uncle? Daddy bullied me…”

“Auntie, what are you doing?”

“YinYin doesn’t have any pretty little dresses to wear anymore. Can you send one to me?”

“The dress you gave me yesterday? Ah, Daddy took it away…”

“Wait for it!”

“Woof woof woof.” The black German Shepherd beside her barked twice after the little owner finished her calls, tail wagging happily, as if cheering her on.

The system watched in stunned silence. This little cub was becoming more and more formidable—now she fully knew how to use the resources around her to take revenge. She held grudges very well.

The system lit a candle for Mo Linqing.

Why not light one for Mo Linqing’s secondary personality instead? Because…

After waiting in line for just half an hour longer than usual, when Mo Linqing returned home, something felt off.

There were several familiar-looking cars parked in the garage downstairs.

When he went upstairs and tried to unlock the door, he found that the door was already open.

His kid’s eldest maternal uncle was glaring at him, cracking his knuckles, looking ready to throw a punch at any second.

He looked again—well, would you look at that. The place was packed. Even at Yinyin’s birthday banquet yesterday, there hadn’t been this many people.

Yinyin’s maternal grandparents, her uncle, her aunt, and her three little cousins—all the relatives had mobilized and showed up.

And even the old man from his own family was here.

Everyone was sitting in the living room. When he came in, they all turned their heads and stared at him fiercely, as if they’d pounce the moment they disagreed with a single word.

Old Master Mo tapped his cane and was the first to attack. “You bullied Yinyin again?”

“What kind of father are you? After all these years—already an academician—and you’re still doing such unreliable things?”

“Hand over all of Yinyin’s clothes and toys!”

“Do you have any idea how ugly the toys you made yourself are?”

“If you keep doing such unreliable things again…”

When Mo Linqing woke up, he was being scolded bloody by his father. All of Yinyin’s elders were staring at him, looking like they’d start throwing hands at the slightest provocation.

Yinyin was protected in the middle by her three little cousins, with a pile of gifts set beside her.

Mo Linqing: “……”

There would be many days like this in the future. Life was still long.

—

[The following has nothing to do with the main story. It is an apocalyptic extra after returning to the original world.]

This was the third year after the apocalypse…

Mo Linqing went alone most of the time, though there was always a group of scruffy lackeys following behind him.

That stupid primary personality finally discovered his existence after the outbreak of the Z virus.

Mo Linqing had long been prepared for this. He took the initiative and swallowed the primary personality—from then on, this body belonged to him alone.

Three years had passed. The world was in utter chaos. A small portion of those infected by the virus managed to survive, their genes mutating and granting them powerful abilities. They were called ability users.

Another group hadn’t been infected and hadn’t mutated either—no different from before the apocalypse, still ordinary people.

And then there was half of humanity that mutated into monsters, becoming a new species altogether. They lost their reason and gained grotesque appearances. People called them zombies.

A world like purgatory staggered on for three whole years.

Three years—more than enough for Mo Linqing to grow bored.

He thought: why not just let everything die out? He’d be doing these foolish humans a favor anyway—saving them from struggling on, wasn’t that so?

Even though the name “Mo Linqing” was the public enemy of the entire world, the most terrifying existence in everyone’s nightmares…

Most of the time, when Mo Linqing walked down the street, no one recognized him.

He liked playing dress-up games, liked messing with people, liked watching them act foolishly while being kept completely in the dark—like teasing little animals.

He had pretended to be a desperate ordinary survivor, and also pretended to be an exceptionally powerful ability user, leading teams out on missions. Listening to them curse his name while struggling to survive brought him pleasure.

But recently, Mo Linqing no longer wanted to disguise himself. He had played this game enough over the past three years.

He had his lackeys release a public announcement in his name, telling everyone that he was at the Destruction Base. Anyone who wanted to find him was welcome to come.

As soon as the news spread, survivors from all major bases packed their bags, formed teams, and headed toward the Destruction Base.

The major bases issued a call to arms, marching north in the name of crusading against Mo Linqing.

#KillThatDemon# became the survivors’ slogan.

For three years, with world order in ruins, no one worked anymore, and no one produced food or supplies. Most people’s resources were scarce—so scarce that a single pack of instant noodles was enough to make people fight to the death.

So along the journey north to Mo Linqing’s headquarters at the Destruction Base, survivors searched for food as they traveled.

What the survivors who firmly believed Mo Linqing was still at his base didn’t realize was that Mo Linqing himself was also among these teams.

He was tall, long-legged, handsome, dressed all in black with a black trench coat over it. His mild cleanliness obsession meant that even in the apocalypse, he stayed impeccably clean—his clothes looked as good as new.

In the apocalypse, strength wasn’t judged by how well you ate, but by how well you dressed and your overall bearing. That was how people determined whether you were strong.

After all, someone yellow-faced, skinny, and filthy was clearly struggling just to survive, while those who were clean, neat, and full of energy were universally acknowledged as strong.

Mo Linqing’s appearance clearly marked him as a strong one. Even though he rarely made a move, there were still a few little tails following behind him along the way, unconsciously taking him as their leader.

At this moment, they were in the underground storage of a supermarket.

It was a relatively untouched warehouse that hadn’t been looted many times, and there was still food inside.

Even though three years had passed and most items were past their expiration dates, to survivors, they were still excellent rations.

Mo Linqing strolled in lazily, clearly uninterested in the food around him. No one dared to ask—strong people probably didn’t lack such things.

After killing a few zombies that wandered in, Mo Linqing walked over to a dusty storage cabinet.

He casually kicked it with the tip of his shoe, and suddenly heard faint whimpering sounds coming from inside.

A soft, sweet, slightly milky little voice hummed intermittently… as if someone were crying?

The others heard it too. The few who had followed him weren’t very strong, but they were still ability users—sharp-eared and keen-eyed. They couldn’t have missed this sound. If they had, they would’ve been eaten by zombies long ago.

They gathered around.

Looking at Mo Linqing, they asked cautiously, “Sir, did you hear that too?”

“What was that sound?”

“Why does it… sound like a child crying?”

“This underground storage hasn’t had anyone come in for ages—how could there be a child hiding inside?”

In the apocalypse, anything unknown carried enormous risk. No one dared act rashly. Instinctively, they looked to the strongest person among them.

Mo Linqing narrowed his eyes with interest and walked closer.

“Sir, be careful. I heard that some zombies with sound abilities have learned to imitate human voices to lure prey.”

Yinyin was hiding inside the cabinet, not daring to make a sound. She was so hungry, so hungry. She didn’t know why System Uncle had thrown her here. She had been waiting here all day. System Uncle said the outside was dangerous and wouldn’t let her open the cabinet door, telling her to wait obediently for Daddy to come save her.

The cabinet door on the outside was sealed shut. The ventilation holes were on the other side of the wall. Yinyin couldn’t smell Daddy at all, which made her terribly anxious.

She was hungry and tired.

Unable to help herself, she wanted to cry. She missed Daddy.

Wiping her tears, Yinyin thought: when she finally sees Daddy, she’s going to eat ten big steamed buns! And drink yogurt—strawberry-flavored!