Cyber Tide III

The tall, broad figure across from them turned its head and looked at the two of them. For some reason, the pair, who had already merged with the memory worms, involuntarily took two steps back.

There was a deep slash across the figure's chest, exposing bone. It was clearly the Reaper's handiwork, but as more and more memory-worm eggs were secreted, the wound gradually healed, leaving behind only a faint red mark.

"Mr. G, you really are still alive," the Brain-Machine Maker murmured, his pupils shrinking.

Highsmith smiled faintly but said nothing. In the next moment, more and more butterflies fell from the surface of his body as if its paint were peeling. The butterflies seemed to vanish into the air, or perhaps they were constantly flapping their wings. For a moment, the entire sea seemed to blur. In a daze, the two of them saw only a colossal object slowly descending beneath the star-filled sky. It was a planet-class giant, its flesh crawling with densely packed memory worms.

"Ah! Ah!!"

The Brain-Machine Maker suddenly felt as if his head were splitting apart, as though his consciousness was about to be broken into hundreds of millions of pieces.

The Boss beside him felt the same way. The difference was that he felt it at the gaps where his limbs were missing and at every human-body implant port, as if more and more worms were crawling out from within the openings.

A human body generates approximately 330 billion new cells each day, or 500 million cells every hour, with more than 3.8 million cells produced every second.

Correspondingly, 3.8 million cells also died every second.

And ordinary people absolutely never cared about the life and death of each individual cell.

But what if cells possessed wills of their own?

For the