Gene Optimization

In the dimly lit, high-tech office of Clarke Hamilton, the soft glow of holographic displays cast an ethereal ambiance. Surrounded by walls of translucent screens, Clarke turned to his assistant, Android Annie, who stood with an air of readiness. "Annie, could you provide me with a list of the top five genetic optimization companies in the Federation?" Clarke's voice resonated with a mix of curiosity and command.

The holographic environment beside them flickered to life as Annie nodded, her fingers dancing over the controls. A bar statistics table materialized in front of Clarke, illuminating his thoughtful face with its light.

"Based on the latest data from the Federation's network," Annie began, her voice clear and precise, "the top companies, ranked by customer satisfaction, are Umbrella Biopharmaceutical Company, Shinrow Electric Power Company, Hubert Pharmaceutical Company, Gentech Biochemical Company, and Pantheon Pharmaceutical Company."

Clarke raised an eyebrow in surprise and a hint of admiration. "Impressive," he murmured. "Three Tier 0 companies and two Tier 1. It seems the market has no place for mediocrity, this reminds me of oligopoly model of past ."

After a moment of contemplation, Clarke inquired further, "Which of these have a presence in Terence City?"

Annie quickly responded, "Umbrella and Pantheon both maintain offices there."

"Umbrella, then," Clarke decided with a sense of relief. "Annie, please arrange a meeting with them. I'm interested in their private customization services for genetic optimization."

"Certainly," Annie replied, her fingers swiftly moving across the holographic interface. After a brief pause, her expression shifted slightly. "The Umbrella representative has requested a direct conversation with you."

"Connect them," Clarke instructed, adjusting his posture slightly as the optical brain chip on his wrist vibrated softly, signaling an incoming call.

The moment the call connected, a holographic projection sprang to life. It was a young woman, her appearance professional yet welcoming. She wore a striking red customer service uniform adorned with Umbrella's logo and the number 001. Her smile was warm as she greeted Clarke, "Hello, Mr. Higilton. I'm with Umbrella Biopharmaceuticals in Terence City. How may we assist you with your genetic optimization needs?"

Clarke, curious and direct, asked, "What are your pricing structures?"

"It varies depending on your requirements," the representative explained with a patient tone. "We offer personalized plans based on a thorough analysis of your genetic makeup. Whether it's enhancements in speed, strength, agility, responsiveness, or even cellular longevity, each aspect is tailored specifically to your needs."

Clarke, eager to maximize his potential, quickly interjected, "Is there a comprehensive package? I'm interested in improving all aspects, speed, strength, agility, and lifespan."

The representative shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Mr. Higilton, but such a universal solution is not feasible with our current technology."

The dim glow of the holographic projector cast an ethereal light across the room as Clarke Higilton leaned back on his plush sofa, lost in thought. The call he just had with the customer service representative from the leading genetic modification company had left him pondering the risks and rewards of such a radical step.

The voice on the other end, laced with a mix of professionalism and caution, had chuckled, "Mr. Higilton, everyone's genetic potential has its limits. Pushing all abilities to their maximum would disrupt the delicate balance of your genetic makeup, leading to a host of potential genetic disorders. Genetic modification is a whole different ballgame compared to mere optimization."

Clarke, his brow furrowed in contemplation, replied, "I understand. Let's discuss the genetic modification option then."

The representative, whose tone grew more serious, explained, "Genetic modification isn't just tweaking , it's a complete overhaul of your genetic structure. But I must warn you, it's a high-risk endeavor. The success rate hovers around 60%, and failure can have irreversible consequences. Minor side effects might include chronic headaches or abnormal tissue growth. In the worst cases, there can be an immediate collapse of the gene structure. That's why we usually don't recommend it unless you're... shall we say, cultivating specialized personnel."

Clarke nodded slowly, absorbing the gravity of the situation. "I see," he murmured, his mind racing with the possibilities and dangers.

After a moment's pause, he decided, "For now, let's just go with a blood sample for genetic optimization. Please send someone to collect it. I'll provide the address."

The representative replied, "Of course, Mr. Higilton. However, we require a 100,000 deposit upfront. We'll dispatch our best technicians to collect your sample and rush it to our headquarters for analysis. Our experts will then develop several tailored plans based on your genetic profile, and the final cost will depend on the plan you select."

"Understood," Clarke responded, promptly transferring the funds.

As he ended the call, Clarke's mind wandered to the exorbitant costs of such cutting-edge science. A mere sampling and plan formulation demanded a hefty sum, not to mention the potential millions for the full procedure. He shook his head, reflecting on the inaccessibility of such advancements to the average person.

Settling into his sofa, Clarke activated his holographic environment simulator, a marvel of modern technology that served as both a portal to the internet and an entertainment hub. Browsing through the latest releases, he selected a newly released holographic film, hoping to distract himself from the weighty decisions at hand.

The film, a poignant tale of struggle and resilience, followed the life of Jessie, a destitute student in a city dominated by capitalistic forces. By a twist of fate, she comes into possession of a high-tech military prosthetic, altering the course of her life dramatically. The narrative weaves through her hardships, including the heartbreaking loss of her mother, and her eventual joining of a mercenary team to survive in the unforgiving urban jungle.

As the story unfolded, Jessie relationship with a fellow team member began to deepen, while another character, a cybernetically enhanced girl, found herself unwittingly drawn to the protagonist. The intricate relationships and the portrayal of life at the fringes of society resonated deeply with Clarke, echoing the complexities and moral ambiguities of his own decisions in the realm of genetic modification.

As Clarke Hamilton delved deeper into the holographic film, he couldn't shake off a growing sense of unease. The more he watched, the more apparent it became that something was amiss. The characters, each battling their own demons, started to fall one by one, including the captain. Even Jessie, the protagonist, wasn't spared as she began to show signs of cyberpsychosis, her grip on reality slowly slipping away.

"It looks like I want a knife..." Clarke muttered to himself, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

Just then, the corners of his mouth twitched involuntarily, a reaction cut short as he abruptly shut off the movie. His optical brain chip buzzed with an incoming alert Zamba, his associate, had arrived.

"Come in," Clarke called out, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious, dimly lit room.

At his command, Android Annie, his sophisticated bionic maid, glided across the floor with a grace that belied her mechanical nature, and deftly opened the door.

Zamba, a figure of quiet authority, stepped inside, bowing slightly. "Master Higilton," he began in a respectful tone, "the electronic contract has been finalized. The seller agrees to a price of 550,000. Once you complete the payment, the property will be transferred to your name."

"Excellent," Clarke responded, quickly completing the transaction. A confirmation immediately flashed in his mind's eye, signaling the successful acquisition of the property at No. 315, Hamilock Community.

He couldn't help but marvel at the efficiency of their intelligent society. Transactions and processes that once required days, even months, and involved numerous bureaucratic steps, could now be completed in mere moments, all from the comfort of one's home.

"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave," Zamba suggested, ready to depart. As Clarke's personal bodyguard, he resided in the adjacent apartment, always within reach.

"Wait a moment," Clarke interjected, a question forming in his mind. "Zamba, I've been pondering over something. In your opinion, which is the better choice for an average person, bionic prostheses or genetic optimization?"

Zheng paused, slightly taken aback by the sudden query, then replied, "For most people, bionic prosthetics are the preferable option."

His answer lingered in the air as Clarke considered it, the soft glow of the holographic projector casting a surreal hue over the room, highlighting the blend of advanced technology and human contemplation.