Water remained the sole substance Ken could ingest without subsequent rejection, regardless of the quantity or timing. Since waking on July 14th, he had not had a bowel movement, though he had urinated twice. The previous night, he had deliberately consumed large volumes of water—two 500ml bottles of purified water and three full liters from his electric kettle—yet only needed to relieve himself once. Furthermore, his sweat output during exercise was remarkably minimal, far less than the amount of fluid he had taken in. It was evident that the transformations within his body extended far beyond his digestive system, now encompassing his urinary and endocrine systems as well .
Venturing to the market shortly after 6 AM, Ken found it already teeming with people. He had never visited this early; indeed, his trip to purchase the live chicken had been his first time at a market. The air was thick with an unpleasant mélange of odors from different sections, yet Ken discovered his sense of smell had sharpened. He could now distinguish and isolate the specific scent he sought from the complex background.
After circling the poultry stalls, he bypassed chickens and ducks, purchasing two meat rabbits instead. He reasoned they would attract less attention and cause less disturbance—a practical consideration, as he had agreed with his landlord not to cook in his room. Any sign of slaughtering poultry, whether cooked or not, would inevitably lead to trouble. His rented room was in an old street nestled between new residential complexes, a holdout of low-rise buildings converted into cheap "studio apartments" catering to commuters due to its proximity to the subway. For years, Ken's life had revolved around the office, his room merely a place to sleep. These past days of near-total seclusion were a profound anomaly.
Returning to his building, Ken noticed a newly installed surveillance camera above a nearby grocery store. He approached the owner and, using the pretext of a lost phone on the night of the 11th, asked to review the footage. The owner, familiar with Ken as a long-term resident, readily complied. The camera angle captured the entrance to Ken's building in the upper left corner. The footage showed a Toyota sedan pulling up at 8:44 PM. Ken emerged from the back seat, walked steadily to the door, unlocked it without difficulty, and entered within seconds, showing no signs of staggering. Fast-forwarding through the recording until the following noon revealed only recognizable tenants coming and going, with no strangers present. Ken saw no need to check further; logically, if someone had entered his room to induce these changes, it would have been within that timeframe, as he would have sobered up by noon at the latest. Furthermore, he clearly remembered the internal deadbolt being securely fastened when he awoke on the 14th, and the windows were intact and locked. His ride-hailing trip home on the 11th, though he was heavily intoxicated, involved no physical contact with the driver. He concluded that external intervention during this period was unlikely, though he couldn't entirely rule out the possibility of a substance introduced earlier, perhaps at the food stall, or a latent "X" triggered later .
Back in his room, Ken documented these findings in a new file: "X Cause Investigation 2: The Home Entrance." Drawing on his previous experience, he then efficiently dispatched the rabbits with a proper kitchen knife, a significant improvement over the Swiss Army knife. Drinking a large bowl of rabbit blood, he found the taste itself unremarkable—neither repulsive nor particularly appealing. However, as it settled in his stomach, a profound wave of satisfaction and well-being emanated from his very core, as if every vessel, muscle, and cell rejoiced. It felt like his body was a collective of sentient entities celebrating their leader. He noted that the rabbit blood seemed to impart a stronger sense of "pleasure" and "fulfillment" compared to the chicken blood, possibly related to the timing, the volume, or the source itself.
After cleaning the bathroom and tending to the remaining rabbit, a familiar fatigue and drowsiness set in, though it arrived somewhat later than after consuming the chicken blood. Ken prepared for bed, started the stopwatch on his phone, and surrendered to sleep.
…
Upon waking, Ken lay still, first assessing the state of his body. He then checked the phone: 25 hours and 17 minutes had elapsed. He had fallen asleep around 9 AM on the 17th; it was now past 10 AM on the 18th. His immediate observation was a further improvement in his vision, now matching his previously corrected eyesight with glasses. Pulling back the curtain, he could clearly read the small print and phone numbers on a distant billboard. Additionally, he felt a significant increase in raw physical power. Stripping and stepping onto the scale, he discovered his weight had increased by 3.3 kg, now reading 87.4 kg.