The Transmigrated Alchemist's Revenge System

# **Chapter 1: "The Final Experiment"**

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Dr. Alex Chen hunched over his microscope, bloodshot eyes burning from twelve straight hours of focused research. Empty coffee cups littered his workstation like monuments to his obsession, and his lab coat bore the stains of a man who'd forgotten the world existed beyond these sterile walls.

"Cellular regeneration at the mitochondrial level," he muttered, adjusting the focus with trembling fingers. "The key has to be in the ATP synthesis pathway."

At thirty-two, Alex had already revolutionized pharmaceutical research twice over. His breakthrough in cancer treatment had saved thousands of lives, and his work on neurological disorders had earned him three international awards before he'd turned thirty. But tonight—tonight he was chasing something that would change everything. Complete cellular regeneration. The fountain of youth hidden in molecular biology.

The Genesis Biopharmaceutical building stood silent around him, forty-three floors of cutting-edge research facilities that never truly slept. But at 2 AM, Alex's lab on the thirty-seventh floor might as well have been on another planet. The security guards made their rounds every two hours, and his keycard access meant he could work undisturbed through the night—exactly how he preferred it.

"Come on," he whispered to the petri dish under his microscope. "Show me your secrets."

The cells in the dish were unlike anything he'd ever seen. Where normal human tissue would show signs of aging and decay, these specimens were regenerating at impossible rates. Wounds healing in minutes instead of days. Dead tissue coming back to life. Under the microscope, he could see individual cells dividing and repairing themselves at a rate that should have been biologically impossible.

His hands shook as he reached for the syringe containing his latest compound—a mixture of stem cell activators, synthetic proteins, and modified telomerase inhibitors that shouldn't exist according to current science. Three years of research had led to this moment, countless nights spent unraveling the mysteries of cellular death and rebirth.

The compound was a pale blue liquid that seemed to shimmer with its own inner light. Alex had synthesized it using techniques that pushed the boundaries of modern chemistry, combining elements in ways that his colleagues would have called impossible. But the results spoke for themselves.

"Test subject 847," he spoke into his digital recorder, his voice hoarse from hours of work. "Application of Compound X-23 to deceased tissue sample. Time: 2:17 AM."

He carefully applied a single drop of the compound to the dead tissue sample and watched through the microscope as something miraculous happened. The dead cells began to stir, their membranes restructuring, their nuclei reactivating. It was like watching resurrection at the cellular level.

"Impossible," he breathed, his heart pounding. "The tissue is coming back to life."

But even as excitement flooded through him, Alex noticed something else. The regenerated cells weren't just healing—they were improving. Stronger cell walls, more efficient mitochondria, enhanced DNA repair mechanisms. The compound wasn't just bringing dead tissue back to life; it was making it better than it had ever been.

His phone buzzed on the desk beside him. A text from his research partner, Dr. Sarah Martinez: "Alex, your presentation to the board is in six hours. Please tell me you're not still in the lab."

Alex smiled grimly. The board meeting. Genesis Biopharmaceutical's executives had been pressuring him for months to show results from his "pet project." They wanted marketable drugs, not theoretical breakthroughs. But what he'd discovered tonight would change everything.

He began preparing a second sample, this time using fresh tissue from the lab's supply of surgical specimens. The ethical review board had approved the research, but Alex wondered what they'd think if they knew he was essentially creating immortal cells.

"The implications are staggering," he muttered, documenting everything with his camera. "If human trials prove successful, we could eliminate aging entirely. Cancer, heart disease, neurological disorders—all of it could become obsolete."

As he worked, Alex's mind raced with possibilities. His research could revolutionize medicine, but it could also revolutionize warfare. Soldiers who couldn't die. Dictators who could rule forever. The compound was a double-edged sword that could save humanity or destroy it.

A soft chime from his computer indicated that his automated analysis was complete. The molecular structure of his compound appeared on the screen, a complex three-dimensional model that looked more like art than science. But buried in the data was something that made his blood run cold.

The compound wasn't just affecting the test tissue. It was affecting the entire lab environment. Microscopic traces of the substance had somehow become airborne, and his equipment was detecting cellular changes in the air itself. The lab's atmosphere was being altered at the molecular level.

"That's impossible," Alex said aloud, checking his readings again. "The compound should be completely stable at room temperature."

But the evidence was undeniable. His miracle cure was somehow spreading beyond its intended targets, creating a field of cellular regeneration that extended several feet from the initial application point. The implications were terrifying.

Alex's hands trembled as he reached for the emergency containment protocols. If the compound was airborne, if it was affecting the entire lab environment, then he might have inadvertently created something far more dangerous than he'd intended.

"Dr. Chen." The voice made him jump.

Alex spun around to find a figure in the doorway—someone in a dark suit who definitely didn't belong in his lab at 2 AM. The man's face was obscured by shadows, but Alex caught the glint of something metallic in his hand.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Alex's voice cracked slightly. "Security should have—"

"Security is no longer a concern," the man said smoothly, stepping into the light. His face was unremarkable—the kind that would disappear in a crowd—but his eyes held a coldness that made Alex's blood freeze. "Your research ends tonight, Dr. Chen."

"My research?" Alex's mind raced. "What do you know about my research? Are you from the board? From the government?"

"I'm from an organization that's been watching you for quite some time," the man replied, his voice carrying a slight accent that Alex couldn't place. "We've been monitoring your progress, Dr. Chen. Your breakthrough tonight was... anticipated."

Alex's hand inched toward the emergency button on his desk. "You've been watching me? That's impossible. My research is classified."

"Nothing is classified from us," the man said with a thin smile. "We knew you'd succeed tonight. We knew you'd create something that could change the fundamental nature of human existence. And we knew we'd have to stop you."

"Stop me?" Alex's voice rose. "This could save millions of lives! Cancer, aging, genetic disorders—"

"It could also destroy the natural order of things," the man interrupted. "Tell me, Dr. Chen, what do you think happens when humans become immortal? When death is no longer a certainty? When the powerful can live forever while the poor die as they always have?"

Alex felt his conviction wavering. He'd been so focused on the scientific achievement that he'd barely considered the societal implications. "There would be regulations, controls—"

"There are always regulations," the man said coldly. "And there are always those who find ways around them. Your compound wouldn't save humanity, Dr. Chen. It would enslave it."

"Who are you?" Alex demanded, his fear giving way to anger. "What gives you the right to make that decision?"

"We are the guardians of balance," the man replied. "We've existed for millennia, watching over humanity's development, ensuring that certain discoveries are never made. Or if they are made, ensuring they never see the light of day."

The man raised his hand, revealing a small device that looked like a cross between a remote control and a smartphone. Its surface was covered in symbols that Alex didn't recognize, and it pulsed with a soft blue light that reminded him uncomfortably of his own compound.

"Wait!" Alex lunged for his notes, desperate to protect three years of work. "You don't understand what you're destroying! This research could benefit everyone!"

"It could," the man agreed. "But it won't. Because humans aren't ready for immortality. They may never be ready."

But Alex wasn't listening anymore. His scientist's mind was analyzing the device in the man's hand, noting the way it seemed to interface with the lab's electronic systems. The soft blue glow was intensifying, and Alex realized with growing horror that the device was somehow connected to his own research.

"The compound," Alex breathed. "You're going to use my own discovery against me."

"Very good, Dr. Chen. You always were brilliant." The man's smile was predatory. "Your regeneration serum has one fascinating property that you haven't discovered yet. Under the right conditions, it can be reversed. Instead of healing cells, it can cause them to break down at the molecular level."

"That's impossible. The compound is designed to strengthen cellular bonds, not break them."

"Everything can be reversed with the right catalyst," the man said, pressing a button on his device. "The irony is that you'll get to test your theories about cellular regeneration very soon. Just not in the way you expected."

The explosion didn't come from outside—it came from Alex's own equipment. Every machine in the lab began to overload simultaneously, sparks flying as circuits fried and chemicals mixed in ways that should have been impossible. But Alex realized it wasn't random destruction. The overloads were following a pattern, creating a specific chemical reaction that would turn his lab into a weapon.

"The beauty of your compound," the man said over the growing chaos, "is that it responds to electromagnetic fields. Change the field, and you change the effect. Healing becomes destruction. Life becomes death."

The regeneration compound Alex had been working with began to smoke and bubble. The carefully controlled chemical reaction was going critical, and he realized with horror that the man hadn't just sabotaged his equipment—he'd turned his own research into a precisely engineered catastrophe.

"Who are you?" Alex screamed over the growing roar of destruction. "Why are you doing this?"

"Someone who's seen what happens when mortals try to become gods," the man replied, already backing toward the exit. "Don't worry, Dr. Chen. Death isn't the end for people like you. It's just... a career change."

Alex tried to run, but his legs wouldn't obey. The compound in the air was affecting him now, its reversed polarity attacking his cellular structure. He could feel his body breaking down at the molecular level, his cells dying and regenerating in an endless, agonizing cycle.

"What did you do to me?" he gasped, falling to his knees.

"I gave you exactly what you wanted," the man said, pausing at the doorway. "Immortality. Just not the kind you expected."

The last thing Alex saw before the world erupted in flames was the man's knowing smile and the words he mouthed silently: "Welcome to the System."

Then everything went white.

Alex felt his consciousness scatter like leaves in a hurricane. His body was being consumed by the very compounds he'd created to preserve life, the regeneration serum reacting with his cells in ways that defied everything he understood about biology. He was dying and being reborn simultaneously, his molecular structure breaking down and rebuilding in an endless, agonizing cycle.

But even as his physical form disintegrated, his mind remained sharp with one burning question: How did that man know about the System?

What system?

The thought hit him like a thunderbolt just as his vision faded to black. In his final moments of consciousness, Dr. Alex Chen realized that everything he'd believed about his research, his life, and his world had been a lie.

His work hadn't been a breakthrough—it had been a test. The compound he'd created wasn't revolutionary—it was expected. And his death wasn't random—it was orchestrated.

As darkness claimed him, Alex heard voices in the void. Not one voice, but many, speaking in languages he didn't recognize but somehow understood.

"Another piece moves into position," the voices whispered in unison. "The game can finally begin."

"Subject 847 has been processed," another voice added. "Initiating transmigration protocol."

"Destination: Tianwu Continent. Host body: Xiao Feng, age eighteen, cultivation crippled."

"Mission parameters: Revenge System activation upon arrival."

"Warning: Host memories will be traumatic. Subject may experience psychological integration difficulties."

"Acknowledged. Begin transfer."

Alex tried to scream, but he had no voice. He tried to fight, but he had no body. He was consciousness without form, awareness without substance, floating in an endless void between worlds.

And in that void, something vast and ancient stirred with satisfaction.

"Welcome to the Multiverse, Dr. Chen," the entity spoke directly into his mind. "Your real education begins now."