135: Chapter 135: Studying Bats, Executing the Plan's Feasibility

The clouds sank, pressing down over the purplish-red Wasteland.

The light was drawn away by the cloud mass bit by bit.

The temperature of the Wasteland Divine Domain plummeted sharply within just a few minutes.

The heavy metal toxic miasma in the air rapidly condensed, turning into layers of black frost.

It covered the cracked soil and the branches and leaves of the dark red small trees.

The sound of the wind changed.

The originally low roar turned into a high-frequency, sharp screech.

Inside the camp, disaster erupted without warning.

At the edge of the wounded area, a dozen members of the Time Demon Race, who had only inhaled a small amount of dark abyss spiritual energy and had their affected areas forcibly frozen by a Spell, began to spasm and convulse simultaneously.

Web-like cracks appeared on the surface of the solid ice covering their bodies.

Crack! Crack!

Shards of ice flew everywhere.

Dark purple tumors burst through the solid ice, expanding at ten times the previous speed.

On the neck of a member of the Technology Faction, three deformed heads covered in fangs sprouted one after another.

The heads opened their large mouths and bit the medical soldier responsible for nursing them.

The medical soldier's screams echoed through the camp.

"Suppression! Firepower suppression! Don't let them rush into the core area!"

The adjutant drew the high-energy burst gun from his waist and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

The dark blue laser beam precisely pierced through the three heads of the mutated tribesman.

The corpse fell to the ground and quickly melted into a puddle of dark golden pus.

The high-concentration toxic gas emitted by the pus forced the surrounding tribesmen to retreat repeatedly.

Chaos spread to every corner of the camp.

After darkness descended, the Law repulsive force of the Wasteland Divine Domain climbed sharply.

The genetic locks within the mutants, who had originally been well-suppressed, completely collapsed.

Someone's arms turned into metal arthropod limbs, indiscriminately hacking and slashing at surrounding companions.

"Form the Sword Array! Stop him!" A Sword Cultivator from the Cultivation-side, eyes bloodshot, guided the Sword Array with a hand seal.

Three bronze Flying Swords turned into streams of light, crossing and piercing around the mutant waving its arthropod limbs.

Sparks flew from the metal arthropod limbs, and the Flying Swords forcibly cut off the mutant's head.

The headless corpse fell, and dark purple corrosive blood gushed from the cut, burning through the protective True Qi of several Sword Cultivators who couldn't dodge in time.

Someone's abdomen split open, and swarms of black beetles crawled out, biting whatever flesh they saw.

"Gravity Mire! Earth Wall Seal!" In the camp of the Magic-side, several Earth Mages slammed their staves heavily onto the ground.

The purplish-red soil under the mutant's feet liquefied, dragging half of its body into the ground.

Then, four earth walls rose from the ground, sealing the scurrying beetles along with their host tightly in a narrow space.

Another Fire Mage smashed a Burst Fireball into the earth walls.

After a muffled sound, only a pile of charred remains was left inside.

Some people didn't even have time to scream before their entire bodies turned into a mass of black-blue flames, burning the bunkers around them to ashes.

The reaction of the Body Cultivator camp was the most primitive and tragic.

A Body Cultivator roared and stepped forward, his whole body's Qi and blood like a Dragon, enduring the pain of the black-blue flames burning his skin, and used his arms to tightly lock the mutant tribesman who was covered in flames.

With a crisp "Crack" sound, he twisted off the neck of his former comrade with his bare hands and threw the corpse far outside the camp perimeter.

"Energy team! The output power of Node 3 has dropped! Hurry and replace the spare crystal core!"

"Medical team, fall back! Everyone switch to live ammunition and physical attacks; don't use high-energy weapons to stimulate them!"

The adjutant ran back and forth among the crowd, his roaring voice drowning out the explosions and the rumble of Spells.

His left arm was still wrapped in bandages, blood seeping out and staining half of his armor red.

Several black shadows slammed into the outer layer of the Veil of Time.

The light of the curtain flickered unsteadily.

They were native creatures coming out to forage in the darkness.

"Hold on! Each System, coordinate your defense!"

The adjutant kicked over a guard who was scared out of his wits and snatched the heavy kinetic machine gun from his hand.

Coordinating with the Flying Swords of the Cultivation-side and the Spells of the Magic-side, he strafed the areas with the highest density of mutations.

Metal bullets tore through flesh, Flying Swords severed bones, and magic shattered shells.

Tribesmen who once fought side-by-side had now become monsters that had to be eliminated.

Half an hour of bloody suppression.

The camp finally returned to silence.

There were hundreds of puddles of foul-smelling pus and charred remains on the ground.

The surviving tribesmen slumped on the ground, panting heavily, their eyes filled with numbness.

The adjutant threw away the machine gun with an empty magazine.

He counted the number of people, and his heart twitched again.

Two hundred more people were gone.

Now, there were fewer than thirteen hundred people left in the camp who could still breathe.

He looked up towards the center of the camp.

There was a closed laboratory temporarily built with a few armor plates.

Since Mor entered before dark, until now, even though it was chaotic outside, there had been no movement from inside.

The adjutant sighed softly and, dragging his exhausted body, walked towards the laboratory.

The cabin door opened.

Mor was standing with his back to the door in front of a metal dissection table.

He was holding a high-frequency cutting knife in his hand, focusing intently on dissecting the object on the table.

The adjutant approached on tiptoe.

He saw what was on the dissection table clearly.

It was a giant bat over five meters long.

Its skeleton was a ghastly white, and the edges of its wings were covered with sharp bone blades.

This was a native creature that Mor had voluntarily gone out of the Veil of Time to capture from the Wasteland after dark.

The bat's chest cavity had been completely opened.

There were no conventional internal organs.

On both sides of its spine, a dozen translucent, capsule-like organs were neatly arranged.

In a tray nearby, there were also a few branches and leaves of the dark red small trees.

Even though the branches and leaves had been cut off, they were still slowly wriggling in the tray, trying to absorb the surrounding air.

"Leader." The adjutant spoke in a low voice.

Mor did not turn back.

The cutting knife in his hand cut open a translucent capsule.

High-frequency infrasonic waves were released from the capsule, causing the metal cabin walls of the laboratory to hum.

Mor quickly dripped a few drops of dark blue stabilizer, suppressing the infrasonic waves.

"Is it cleaned up outside?" Mor's voice sounded very calm.

"It's finished; two hundred more brothers died."

"The speed of mutation is accelerating. After dark, the environmental pressure of this damn place has doubled." The adjutant hung his head and reported the battle losses.

Mor gave a neutral "Hmm."

He put down the cutting knife and picked up a pair of tweezers.

He extracted an extremely fine nerve fiber from the crevices of the bat's skeleton and placed it into the microscopic observation instrument.

The adjutant stood where he was.

He looked at Mor's busy back, his eyes twitching.

The tribesmen were fighting for their lives outside, facing the danger of genetic collapse at any moment.

Captain Ryan took five core elites to search for an antidote, and their fate was unknown.

As the backbone of the entire tribe, the leader was hiding in this safe iron shell, fiddling with a bat's corpse.

Dissatisfaction grew in the adjutant's heart.

He felt that the leader was becoming less and less concerned about the life and death of the tribe.

Since Ryan and the others left, Mor had buried himself in this laboratory and wouldn't come out.

He ignored the camp's defense and resource allocation, throwing all the mess to him.

But he didn't dare to say these words out loud.

The Time Demon Race had strict hierarchy; Mor's strength and methods could crush him in minutes.

"Think I'm cold-blooded?" Mor spoke suddenly.

The adjutant stiffened and quickly lowered his head: "This subordinate wouldn't dare."

Mor turned around.

His eyes were bloodshot, his eye sockets were sunken, and his whole person exuded a kind of morbid excitement.

He pointed at the bat corpse on the dissection table, staring intensely at the adjutant.

"You know nothing. You think that just because Ryan and the others went out, they will definitely be able to bring back an antidote?"

"You think the environment outside is something a few Diamond-Rankers can just walk through?" Mor picked up a blood-stained rag and wiped the stains off his gloves.

"Ryan and the others haven't sent back any news until now. What does that mean?"

"It means the level of danger outside far exceeds our estimates."

"They are very likely trapped, or even completely wiped out."

Hearing this, the adjutant looked up, his face deathly pale.

"We cannot bet the lives of the entire tribe on the six of them." Mor walked up to the adjutant and patted his shoulder.

The force was great, making the adjutant's wounds ache faintly.

"There must be a backup plan. I am dissecting this bat and studying these branches here to find a second path."

Mor turned around and pointed at the data jumping on the screen of the microscopic observation instrument.

"The genetic sequence of this bat contains the Fusion of characteristics from at least three different species."

"It can release infrasonic waves, its bone strength is comparable to top-grade metal, and it can also be immune to the toxic miasma in the air."

"Inside its body, there is a perfect genetic stability System."

Mor's tone gradually became passionate and full of persuasive power.

"As long as I can parse out the underlying logic of this stability System and extract the core substance."

"I will be able to mass-produce a serum that suppresses this Spiritual Qi."

"By then, we will not only be able to cure all mutated tribesmen but even use the Spiritual Qi here to let the strength of the entire tribe take a qualitative leap!"

"We, the Time Demon Race, will complete our evolution here!"

"One thousand years is enough for us to build an invincible army."

"When the Time Light Cocoon ends, we will go out and be able to sweep across the entire Starry Sky Black Market!"

The promise was grand and enticing.

The adjutant listened, his blood boiling with excitement, and his grievances and dissatisfaction were swept away.

He looked at the leader's tired but determined face, and guilt surged in his heart.

The leader had not abandoned them.

The leader was carrying the fate of the entire tribe in another way!

"This subordinate understands! I will go and arrange personnel to defend the camp to the death!"

"I guarantee that no monster will disturb your research!" The adjutant stood straight and performed a Time Demon Race salute.

"Go. Tell the brothers to hold on. Hope is right before our eyes." Mor nodded.

The adjutant turned around and strode out of the laboratory.

His steps were steady, and he was full of drive.

The cabin door closed again.

Only Mor was left in the laboratory again.

The passion and fighting spirit on his face quickly disappeared without a trace.

Mor walked to the dissection table, picked up the high-frequency cutting knife, and forcefully stabbed it into the bat's skull.

"Serum? Heh." Mor let out an unpleasant sneer.

He had lied to the adjutant.

He had studied for several hours, chopping up a few bats and dozens of branches.

The only conclusion he reached was: the creatures in this Divine Domain simply cannot be parsed with conventional logic.

The genetic lock of this bat presented a violent locked state.

The various genetic characteristics in its body were forcibly kneaded together by some supreme high-dimensional Law.

There was no logic, no transition.

It was simply strong, hard, and toxic.

This level of creation method had already touched the core of the deity's Origin.

Let alone a Diamond-Rank Time Demon Race like him, even if a human True God were here in person.

They would not be able to extract the so-called "serum" from such a monster.

This was an unsolvable dead end.

As for those six people, Ryan and his team.

Mor closed his eyes.

The Time Demon Origin connection he left on Ryan had been severed two hours ago.

It was severed completely, not even leaving a trace of Soul fluctuation.

Ryan and the others were dead.

They died in the endless darkness outside and in the mouths of monsters.

Mor opened his eyes.

His hand rested on the edge of the dissection table, and a flash of guilt flickered in his eyes.

It was he who brought the tribe into this Hell.

Thousands of elites were now reduced to just over one thousand.

But this guilt lasted less than a second before being wiped away by the coldness in his eyes.

To survive in this environment for a thousand years.

The barrier of the Time Light Cocoon was unbreakable.

No supplies, no resources; even breathing would lead to genetic collapse.

Twelve hundred people, the energy and resources consumed every day were not a small number.

Mor turned his head, his gaze piercing through the metal cabin walls, looking at the tired and wounded tribesmen in the camp outside.

He had already figured it out and made the worst-case plan.

If it were possible...

Mor withdrew his gaze.

He pulled out the cutting knife stuck in the bat's skull.

The dark blue liquid stained on the blade was rapidly corroding the metal of the knife.

Mor didn't want to think any more and continued his work.

He needed to understand the structure of these creatures more deeply.

As the feasibility for him to execute the plan.