Some part of Jerrold's ever rebellious and ultra-leftist mind tried to prepare to fight against the change he knew these fucks where trying to make in him. But that part was unable to fight the sudden lethargy that gripped his body, forcing calm upon him as the unseen gaseous serum infiltrated his very cells.
Knowing that it was likely the influence of his Caucasian genetics that allow the young man to fall so far from the straight and narrow path of his Asian ancestors, the serum went to work on purging them from his system. Before the eyes of the observing scientists, the partial epicanthic folds of Jerrold's eyes became fuller, narrowing his vision. The blonde streaks in his long hair gave way to the natural ebony he'd tried to hide with dyes and bleach. His trace of a goatee retracted leaving his twenty-something face smooth.
Inside his head, the rebel was under assault. Images of a hard but honest life in the Chinese countryside began to bombard his memories, blotting out his hard partying high-school years. He tried to hold onto his wild ways, but they were being swallowed up by hours of study and work on the family farm. Outside, his lanky frame began to bulk in response to this, the hard muscles of a farm boy flexing themselves into existence all over his body. His tattered jeans would've burst under the sudden strain, but the rips and tears in them had already sealed up, as the jeans shifted into a pair of dark brown slacks.
Jerrold's tank top had already reformed into a plain one, the word 'Monster' disappearing into the clean whiteness of it. The tattoo ink in his skin seemed to be fading at first, but then one of the observers noted that it was starting to gather on the surface of the changing man's skin. The large swirling mass of ink then began to separate into a few smaller blobs that slid over the body, transforming into accessories vital to the new person Jerrold was becoming. One blob wrapped around his wrist, quickly becoming a solid leather band out of which burst the glass and metal of a watch. Another ran up his face and around his eyes, drawing in the piercings that once lined his brows and nose to become the solid black frames that held the lens of his glasses.
There was a sudden jolt from Jerrold, as the part of him that was still him seemed to gain control amid the transformation. He strained against his bond, his mouth trying to form curse words but all that came out was a cascade of polite Chinese. His mind reeled at this but already his normally English thoughts were becoming muddied with ones in Chinese. He stomped his feet, but the familiar clunk of his favorite gothic army boots did not ring out. Instead came the dull thud of the thick soles of a very conservative pair of dress shoes whose mirror polish suddenly brought pride to him.
Now, the changes to his mindset were beginning to break down the last of his resistance, flooding his memories and washing away his wasteful college years. In their place grew up the life of a solid student whose high marks had assured his place in the world. The old Jerrold had not been stupid, but merely overly concerned with his leftist causes. No more for who he was becoming. Now those mental energies were turned towards the sciences and mathematics. After all, that is why he came to the West...
And speaking of the West, the American trinkets in the room, as well as the rainbow flags had not been spared of the airborne effects of the serum. Several of the objects had fused into one, becoming a traditional statue of a Fu Dog, while the largest of the flags had seen its red band bleed outwards to swallow up the other colors, save for a small bit of yellow which soon resembled stars. Another flag had been drawn towards Jerrold, its rainbow colors leaching away as it wrapped around his chest and began twisting into clothes. Soon a collar and sleeves could be seen forming underneath a brown suit jacket that matched his slacks, a black ties pulling itself out of the last blot of tattoo ink and around his neck.
While more and more of the Western items became Eastern ones, another wave of change washed over Jerrold. The years started to pile onto him, moving quickly through his twenties and well into his late thirties. With this aging came changes to his hair style, as it pulled itself into a slicked back style suited to a professional man his age. Likewise, he could now recall earning a good job as a science teacher, even if it meant working with decadent western students.
Again, his mouth began to speak, this time in heavily accented English...
"Listen to me! I am Liong Guang Rong, and I demand your respect!"
Behind their masks, the scientists all smiled and knew he was ready for the next phase. They left the chamber, via an air lock. As they did, one of them pressed a button on a remote and the whole room shuddered as it started to rise up. Above, the ceiling opened, allowing it to ascend into the living room of a house. 11
Almost immediately, the lingering traces of the serum began to warp the obviously Western features of the room into a proper Chinese affair. Guang Rong adjusted his posture, as his chair completed a change of its own to become his favorite recliner. Picking up a nearby newspaper with his now free hands, he started to read the Chinese characters with ease. But after a few minutes, his gaze looked down at his watch, and pondered the time.
"It is late...where are they?"
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Of course, the "they" in question was his family. But that was merely a matter of time now as the serum that flowed in his veins was already reaching out for the inhabitants of the house he was sitting in, ready to transform them in the very proper members of the Liong Family! But who were they?