69novels Chapter 77 Gray Mule
Chapter 77 Gray Mule
Chapter 77 Gray Mule (Additional update)
"Begin the irradiation," Rowe commanded.
Father Alpha sighed, and the robotic arm slowly moved, pushing the Drill-60 radioactive source into the isolation chamber.
A deep blue light filled the entire space in an instant.
The once menacing "Ironclad Wheat" began to tremble violently under the intense radiation.
They seemed to sense the destruction at the genetic level, emitting a screeching sound similar to the shrieks of insects.
The leaves curled up, the roots twitched, and the cuticle on the surface began to disintegrate and reorganize.
Lowe observed the readings and instructed, "Increase the dosage. The current intensity is not enough to burn off their reproductive shackles."
"I must remind you, consultant, that increasing the size further will kill the plant!"
Luo Wei said in a deep voice, "Survival of the fittest. Those who survive are the ones we need."
The experiment lasted for a full four hours.
It wasn't all smooth sailing.
During this time, a wheat seedling that underwent a malignant mutation broke free from the confinement of the culture tank.
Its roots proliferated wildly under the stimulation of radiation, piercing through the lead plates of the isolation chamber and coiling like tentacles toward a serf who was recording data.
"what!"
The serf let out a scream as the roots tightly strangled his neck, and white smoke rose from the point of contact with his skin.
The surrounding widows' group members panicked and instinctively wanted to back away.
"Bang!"
A muffled gunshot rang out.
The explosive pistol in Rowe's hand was emitting blue smoke.
The roots of the mutated wheat seedlings were precisely severed, causing sap to splatter everywhere.
The serf collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, a deep purple ligature mark on his neck.
Lowe didn't even glance at the serfs who had narrowly escaped death; he simply looked down at the whiteboard and wrote a line:
Sample A-74 underwent an uncontrollable aggressive mutation and was deemed a failure. The radiation angle needs adjustment, and an additional 1...
5% of the total irradiation time.
"Clean up the scene, continue."
Luo Wei put away his gun and addressed the group.
Two weeks of relentless day and night effort.
After thousands of failures, burning tens of thousands of samples, and consuming three whole boxes of specially made nutrient solution.
Finally, on the morning of the sixteenth day, an unremarkable seedling stubbornly raised its head in a petri dish filled with radioactive dust.
It is no longer as ferocious as "Ironclad Whale".
The serrations on the edge of the blade have degenerated into obtuse angles.
The color also changed from an eerie purplish-black to an inconspicuous grayish-green.
It looks ordinary, and even a little ugly.
But it possesses all the characteristics that Loewy wanted:
It is resistant to acid, drought, and radiation.
It has a short growth cycle and a voracious ability to absorb nutrients.
Most importantly, its embryonic structure is completely destroyed, allowing it to produce plump seeds, but it cannot germinate a second time.
Lowe gave it a fitting code name: "Grey Mule-1".
Holding the seedlings, Susan was so moved that tears welled up in her eyes.
As a widow who had lost her husband, she knew the taste of hunger better than anyone else.
"My esteemed advisor, is this our hope?"
Luo Wei remained silent for a moment.
He silently thought to himself, "These are shackles. They are the shackles of survival that bind this land and everyone around their necks."
However, he replied verbally, "Yes, this is the means to survive."
three days later.
Outside the eastern granary lies a barren wasteland where not a blade of grass grows.
This is a heavily polluted area, where the soil has been completely destroyed by hundreds of years of industrial waste, resulting in a sickly, black, and compacted appearance.
Acid rain poured down, stinging my face.
The roar was deafening.
Ten heavily modified deep-plowing machines, lined up in a long, winding line, are struggling to advance across this wasteland.
The giant plowshare forcibly tore through the hard frozen soil, churning up the sludge buried deep underground.
"Success or failure hinges on this," Luo Wei murmured to himself, his expression solemn.
Then they boarded the chimera transport vehicle and climbed onto the roof.
He wore a black raincoat, letting the acid rain wash over his goggles.
Behind him were thousands of ragged laborers.
Most of them were refugees, but there were also ordinary serfs who volunteered just to have a sip of green soup.
They carried heavy seed bags filled with specially treated "Grey Mule-1" seeds.
There were no cheers, no ceremonies.
This is a silent sowing.
"Let's begin."
Luo Wei gave the order through the communicator.
The laborers bent down and scattered handfuls of gray seeds into the black mud that emitted a pungent odor.
Seeds fall into the soil and come into contact with chemical waste that is enough to kill ordinary plants.
A phenomenon contrary to nature has occurred.
Less than ten minutes later, the soil began to loosen.
A tiny, grayish-green sprout broke through the heavy clod of earth and stubbornly emerged.
They don't need sunlight or clear water.
They greedily inhaled the sulfurous fumes, their roots like countless hungry little mouths, frantically sucking up the toxins from the soil.
The originally jet-black, glossy toxic soil has begun to lighten in color.
"They're eating dirt—no, they're eating poison."
Old John, standing beside Rowe, witnessed everything and stared wide-eyed.
He quickly drew the Eagle salute on his chest and said tremblingly, "My lord, this is a miracle!"
“This is science, John,” Lowe corrected, his gaze deep. “It’s a compromise that species make for survival.”
The holographic projection of the Case server slowly unfolded in front of Rowe.
The green data stream was jumping wildly.
[Estimated growth cycle: 45 days.]
Estimated yield per mu: 1200 kg.
[Toxicity test: Trace amounts (degrades to safe levels after high-temperature baking).]
[Total output forecast: After large-scale promotion and planting, it will be sufficient to cover the annual tithe shortfall, with a surplus of 30% reserved as strategic reserves.]
Looking at the astronomical figure before him, Luo Wei felt a great sense of relief.
He turned his head and looked at the rapidly spreading gray-green wheat fields in the distance, a rare look of satisfaction appearing on his face.
In this desolate wasteland.
These ugly plants are the most beautiful scenery.
"Keep up the good work, everyone! I'll add an extra spoonful of green soup to your dinner!"
Loewe directed the serfs to sow seeds on the wasteland for an entire day.
He only ordered the work to stop when the temperature dropped to a point where the refugees and serfs could no longer bear it.
When he returned to his office in the administration building, it was already 2 a.m.
His whole body ached.
His body was almost completely exhausted after working at high intensity.
He took off his mud-covered raincoat, went to the safe in the corner, and took out a bottle of Amasek brandy.
This was a gift from the governor, but he couldn't bear to drink it.
Tonight is worth celebrating.
The executive lounge in the administration building is a private space encased in thick lead plates and soundproofing materials.
Here, the temperature control system maintains a comfortable 24 degrees Celsius.
Lowell lay in the enamel bathtub.
The hot water reached above my chest, washing away the chill and aches accumulated from a whole day of wandering through the wasteland.
This was the first real "bath" he had taken since he had transmigrated to this ghostly world.
The water is filtered through three layers of military-grade filters, making it crystal clear with no odor, sulfur, or stench.
In the Fengrao No. 2, where water is more precious than blood, this tank of hot water is an absolute luxury.
He held up the Armasec brandy and waved it in the warm yellow light of the bathroom.
The amber-colored liquid clung to the bottle wall and slowly slid down.
Luo Wei tilted his head back and took a sip.
The spicy liquor flowed down my throat like a fuse, instantly igniting my stomach.
Subsequently, the anesthetic agent called "alcohol" began to spread throughout the body.
He savored each sip of the slightly intoxicating sensation as if it were molten gold.
It's such a long-lost feeling of comfort.
So much so that Luo Wei had a momentary illusion, as if he had returned to Earth.
In this relaxing moment, Loewe instinctively wanted to find some music to listen to.
Even classical music that you're tired of hearing in your past life, or cheap pop songs, as long as they have a melody, it's fine.
However, when his self-light swept across the room, he realized that there were no entertainment devices.
There were no speakers, no player, only the imperial statue hanging on the wall, silently watching him with its pupil-less eyes.
Luo Wei thought for a moment, then stretched his wet hand out of the bathtub and pressed a red button on the wall.
"Click".
With the sound of the hydraulic system deflating, the bulletproof glass window of the bathroom slowly opened a crack.
Instantly, sounds from the outside world flooded in.
That was neither the sound of wind nor the sound of rain.
Instead, it was a continuous roar.
In the distance, a giant piston was pounding against a cylinder, producing a dull, thunderous "thump-thump" sound.
Further away, the roar of the incinerator sounded like the howling of a tireless beast.
The shrill whistling of countless conveyor belts rubbing against the rollers, along with the hissing sound of high-pressure steam leaking, converged into a deafening roar.
This is an industrial noise that would drive any Earthling crazy; its decibel level is high enough to cause hearing damage.
At this moment, however, Luo Wei closed his eyes, his expression natural and relaxed.
For him now, this is the most beautiful symphony.
Noise means that fuel is burning in the boiler.
Noise means that products are being produced on the assembly line.
The noise meant that the 120,000 laborers were still alive and creating surplus value for him like worker ants.
Silence is the prelude to death, while noise is the heartbeat of civilization.
As long as the roar continues, it means that this massive war machine is still in operation.
This means that Rowe Dane has not been kicked out yet.
This shows that he still has firm control over this place.
This sense of security derived from "control" is more relaxing than any music.
Amid the deafening roar of industry, Lowe felt an unprecedented sense of peace.
The world became blurry and distant.
He actually fell asleep in the bathtub.
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