144: Chapter 144: The Web of Death

The shadow of death loomed over the adjutant's head, the cold light of the high-frequency cutting blade dancing under the shadowless lamp.

Mor did not release any pressure, but that indifference, which treated the lives of the Demon Race as mere grass, made the demon tremble with fear.

Anger ebbed away.

Fear and the desire to survive regained command of his brain.

The adjutant's gaze crossed over Mor's shoulder, looking at the half-body of a clansman inside the chest cavity of the Demon Vulture on the No. 1 dissection table.

That clansman's eyes were still open, the eyeballs cloudy and unfocused.

He did not want to become like that.

Rationality came back online.

He began to analyze the situation before him.

Ryan and the others had been out for five full days with no news.

The Heavy Armor Beetles and Plasma Bugs outside were conducting a carpet search as if they had gone mad.

This was by no means a coincidence.

The mimicry talent of Ryan and the others had most likely been exposed.

In this bizarre Divine Domain, the genes of the Time Demon Race might be extremely attractive to those bugs.

They had already become prey.

The energy reserve of the Veil of Time would not last more than ten days.

Once the crystal cores were exhausted, relying on the remaining half-crippled clansmen to act as human batteries would only sustain it for a few more days at most.

Once the barrier broke, the swarm would surge in.

Everyone would be torn to pieces or sucked into mummies by those dark red Demon Trees.

Rushing out meant death, and staying behind to wait for death also meant death.

The "Possession and Fusion" plan proposed by Mor sounded insane.

Yet, it was the only way to survive in this Divine Domain at the moment.

The premise was that the experiment could succeed.

The premise was that he could retain his complete Soul and consciousness.

The adjutant swallowed a mouthful of bloody saliva, supported himself on the floor with both hands, and slowly stood up.

"I understand." The adjutant's voice returned to calm, no longer containing the hysteria from just a moment ago.

Mor raised an eyebrow, his hand holding the high-frequency cutting blade pressing down slightly.

"That bunch of people outside can no longer hold back." The adjutant pointed to the metal door of the laboratory, "Bart is leading them, and hundreds of people are blocking the entrance."

"They want the truth, they want the serum. If we drag this out any longer, they will directly blow this door open."

A flash of killing intent crossed Mor's eyes.

"It is very easy for you to kill them all." The adjutant quickly added, his speech speed accelerating.

"But your laboratory needs Materials, and the Veil of Time needs manpower to maintain it."

"You alone cannot block the swarm outside, nor can you finish all these dissections and sutures."

The adjutant took a step forward, demonstrating his core value as a second-in-command.

"I can help you stabilize them; I can quell this mutiny."

"I can buy you enough time to perfect this Fusion experiment."

Mor looked at him without speaking.

"I have only one request." The adjutant gritted his teeth and pointed to Carter on the No. 2 dissection table.

"When the day the experimental technology matures arrives, I want the most perfect shell."

"I want to ensure that my Soul and memories are completely preserved."

Mor stared at the adjutant for a full ten seconds.

Subsequently, he tossed the high-frequency cutting blade into the tray.

"You have finally found your brain." Mor walked to the sink nearby.

"If you had said one more word of nonsense just now, or dared to make a move."

"You would already be lying on the No. 5 dissection table right now. I am just short of a sample with an intact spinal cord."

A layer of cold sweat seeped out on the adjutant's back.

He had won the gamble.

Mor turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel to dry his hands.

"A qualified adjutant does not need excess sympathy, only the ability to see the situation clearly."

Mor turned and walked toward a constant-temperature refrigerated cabinet in the corner of the laboratory.

"It is good that you can recognize reality. I accept this deal." Mor entered the password, and the glass door of the refrigerated cabinet popped open.

He took out a silver metal briefcase from inside, walked back to the front of the dissection table, and pushed the case in front of the adjutant.

"Open it."

The adjutant pressed the latch and lifted the lid of the case.

Cold air spilled out.

Inside the case, twenty glass test tubes were neatly arranged.

Inside the test tubes was a dark red liquid, and within the liquid, golden threads could be faintly seen swimming.

"What is this?" the adjutant asked with confusion.

"The serum you wanted." Mor replied nonchalantly.

The adjutant looked up, his eyes full of disbelief.

Mor had clearly said just now that the serum did not exist at all!

"To be precise, this is a defective product, or perhaps a catalyst."

Mor pointed to the Demon Vulture on the No. 1 dissection table, "These past few days, I have shredded dozens of local creatures, extracting their poison glands and bone marrow."

Mor picked up a test tube and shook it under the light.

"I mixed the Spiritual Qi of this damn place with the neurotoxin of that multi-headed bat, and added the spinal fluid of our mutated Time Demon Race clansmen."

"After high-frequency centrifugal purification, I came up with this thing." Mor's eyes became fanatical.

"It cannot cure the mutation, but it can forcibly overdraw the user's vitality to suppress the mutated features on the body surface."

"After injecting it, within three days, even those originally covered in scales and tentacles will regain the appearance of a normal person. The pain will also completely disappear."

The adjutant understood.

He looked at that box of dark red potions, his scalp tingling.

They would return to normal on the surface, but what about the inside?

"The inside will rot away." Mor answered his doubt, "Vitality is overdrawn, and the gene chain will accelerate its disintegration within the body."

"Three days later, they will completely turn into a puddle of mindless flesh and mush."

Mor placed the test tube back into the case and continued: "This kind of body in a state of extreme disintegration has extremely high physical activity, and its Soul defense drops to the minimum."

"This is precisely the most perfect base Material for the Fusion experiment."

Mor patted the adjutant's shoulder.

"What you need to do is to distribute these potions. Give them to those who are most severely mutated and screaming the loudest."

Mor's voice was deep, carrying a bewitching magic.

"You must ensure that before they turn into mush, while they still maintain their Time Demon form and believe they are saved... send them to me secretly."

"You must never let them explode outside. The root systems of these red Demon Trees are extremely sensitive to this kind of highly active flesh."

"Once they fall to the ground, the Demon Trees will suck them dry, skin and bone, and I won't be able to get anything."

The adjutant looked down at this box of "serum."

Twenty vials, twenty lives.

He needed to use these twenty potions to quell the anger of the hundreds of people outside.

He also had to find every possible way, within this closed camp, to make twenty living beings disappear and send them into this slaughterhouse.

The difficulty was immense, but he had no way out.

The adjutant clicked the metal box shut.

"Leave it to me." The adjutant picked up the box, "I will handle the matters outside, you focus on doing your experiment."

"I hope you remember your promise and save the most perfect shell for me."

"Go." Mor waved his hand, put on his medical gloves again, picked up the high-frequency cutting blade, and walked toward the No. 2 dissection table.

The adjutant turned and strode toward the laboratory door.

In his mind, he had already begun to plan countermeasures.

Directly dragging people in was absolutely out of the question; it would cause a larger riot.

He had to create accidents.

Disappearances during patrols, energy backlash during the maintenance of the defensive Formation nodes.

Even creating the illusion of a small-scale insectoid infiltration. He had plenty of means.

The airlock depressurization sound rang out, and the metal door opened.

The air outside was still oppressive.

Bart stood at the very front, and the hundreds of Time Demon Race warriors behind him all had bloodshot eyes and anxious expressions.

Seeing the metal door open, everyone's gaze focused simultaneously.

The adjutant carried the silver metal briefcase and stepped out.

His battle armor was still stained with blood from when Mor had grabbed his neck earlier.

His face was pale, looking as if he had gone through a difficult negotiation.

"Adjutant! Where is the leader!" Bart roared, raising his greatsword, "Is there any serum or not! Today you must give us an explanation!"

"Right! We want to see the leader!"

"We want to survive!"

The crowd began to surge forward.

The dozens of guards responsible for security were pushed back repeatedly, and the scene was about to spiral out of control.

"Everyone shut up!" The adjutant smashed the metal box in his hand against the rock nearby.

The huge noise stunned the people in the front row.

He suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, sweeping over every person present.

"Explanation? What explanation do you want!" The adjutant pointed at the tightly closed metal door behind him, his voice hoarse.

"The leader is inside, he has not closed his eyes for five days and five nights! He is using his own life to find a way for you to survive!"

The crowd quieted down.

Bart frowned and lowered the greatsword in his hand.

"Do you think the Spiritual Qi of this damn place is so easy to break?"

The adjutant ripped off the bandage on his left arm, revealing the skin underneath where a few black scales had just grown.

"I am also infected! I am also afraid of death!" The adjutant slapped his own chest.

"I just rushed in, pointed a gun at the leader's head, and forced him to hand over the potion!"

Everyone gasped; the adjutant actually dared to point a gun at the Diamond Rank Peak leader.

"And the result?" The adjutant laughed miserably, pointing to the bruise on his neck.

"He did not kill me; he showed me his laboratory table."

The adjutant paused and began his carefully woven lie.

"No samples, no instruments."

"In order to purify the antibodies, the leader has been drawing his own Diamond Rank heart blood!"

"His aura has dropped to freezing point; he cannot even stand steadily!"

The adjutant's voice was extremely infectious.

"He melted all the antibodies purified into this batch of potions!"

The adjutant turned around, his hands trembling as he opened that silver metal box.

The cold air dissipated, and twenty dark red potions lay on the velvet cushion.

Golden threads swam within the liquid, bringing a deadly temptation.

In the camp, hundreds of eyes stared at these test tubes.

Greed, desire, madness.

This was life, this was the hope for survival.

"This is the serum." The adjutant picked up a test tube and held it high, "The first batch of finished products exchanged with the leader's life."

"There are only twenty vials."

Once this sentence was uttered, the demon crowd instantly exploded.

"Give it to me! My mutation is the most severe! My leg is about to rot off!"

"Bullshit! I should be the one to use it first! I am the maintenance worker for the Formation core; if I die, who will support the energy shield!"

"Give me one! I will trade all my savings for it!"

Hundreds of people scrambled forward, and the scene was once again out of control.

Bang! The adjutant drew a high-energy blast gun and fired a shot into the sky.

"Everyone get back!" The adjutant roared, aiming the muzzle at one of the clansmen in the front.

"Whoever dares to snatch it, I will shoot him on the spot! This is the leader's heart's blood; it must be used where it is most needed!"

The crowd was intimidated, stopping in place while panting heavily.

The adjutant put away the gun, his gaze falling on Bart.

"Bart, your brother Colin voluntarily went to his death for the sake of the camp. You are a real man."

The adjutant walked up to Bart and shoved a potion into his hand.

"Your left eye is infected with Devilish Qi; you deserve this potion."

Bart trembled all over, holding that test tube, tears welling up in his eye sockets.

He had originally prepared to die in battle today; he did not expect the adjutant to actually give this incomparably precious potion to him.

"Tha... thank you, leader... thank you, adjutant!" Bart knelt on one knee, his voice choked with sobs.

The adjutant turned his head and looked at the crowd.

"The quantity of the potion is limited, and purification is extremely difficult. The leader is still inside continuing to draw blood and brew it!"

The adjutant loudly announced the distribution rules.

"These twenty vials will be given with priority to the brothers who are most severely mutated and might explode at any time!"

"As long as we suppress the mutation, we can hold out until the next batch of potions comes out!"

"Bring up the seriously injured!"

Twenty clansmen who had mutated beyond recognition, even growing tentacles and arthropod limbs, were carried to the open space.

They wailed in pain, their sanity on the verge of collapse.

The adjutant personally stepped forward and injected the potion into their veins.

A miracle happened.

The dark red liquid entered their bodies.

In just a few seconds, the crazily proliferating tentacles stopped squirming.

The black scales began to wither and fall off.

The deformed limbs turned into pus and flowed out, and new flesh buds quickly grew at the wounds.

The breathing of those wailing, seriously injured people became steady.

Their swollen faces returned to their original gray-white color.

A clansman who had grown three eyeballs saw the extra eyeballs on his face directly wither and fall off.

He touched his face, which had returned to normal, and knelt on the ground, wailing loudly.

"I am better... I am not mutated! I have survived!"

Bart also uncorked the test tube and drank the potion in one gulp.

The black toxic gas in his left eye socket quickly dissipated, and the severe pain disappeared.

The entire camp was in an uproar.

"Long live the leader!"

"Lord Adjutant is wise!"

"We are saved! The Time Demon Race will not perish!"

The haze of despair was swept away.

The warriors raised their weapons and cheered, the guards returned to their posts, and the Formation maintenance workers replaced the crystal cores with great enthusiasm.

The light of the Veil of Time even brightened a little.

The adjutant stood on the high rock, watching the carousing clansmen below.

Bart was hugging a few brothers, and the clansmen whose faces had recovered were showing off their rebirth to their companions.

There was not a trace of joy on the adjutant's face.

He clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a herd of livestock.

The potion had taken effect.

This meant that the countdown for the lives of these twenty people had officially begun.

Three days.

He had only three days to take these twenty lively clansmen, who were filled with gratitude toward the leader, and send them one by one, secretly, into that metal door.

"Bart is responsible for perimeter patrols; I can arrange an accident to let him die outside the defensive line, and I will personally collect the body."

The adjutant calculated in his heart.

"That Formation maintenance worker, I can arrange an energy node overload to let him be seriously injured and fall into a coma, then send him directly to the laboratory."

"As for the rest..."

The adjutant looked at everyone who had drunk the potion, and in his heart, he had already begun to weave a web of death.