socalfunplaces Chapter 82 The Suffering of Flesh and Blood
Chapter 82 The Suffering of Flesh and Blood
Chapter 82 The Suffering of Flesh and Blood (Bonus Chapter)
"As expected."
With a downward press of his wrist, Luo Wei precisely cut open the main stem of the seedling with the scalpel.
Normally, he should see the fresh fragrance of plant sap and the bright green liquid flowing out.
However, what slowly seeped out from the cut was a viscous, turbid, silvery-gray fluid with a metallic sheen.
This liquid oxidizes rapidly upon contact with air, emitting a pungent, bitter almond odor.
Luo Wei used tweezers to pick up a small amount of gray plant tissue and placed it under a high-powered electron microscope.
The camera focuses.
The harsh truth of the microscopic world is revealed before our eyes.
"They eat too fast, and their digestive system is overloaded."
While observing carefully, Luo Wei calmly conducted a biological "check".
"Father, this is not just poisoning; it is an asset transfer driven by the survival instinct."
He adjusted the focus.
Pointing to the black spot moving on the screen.
"Look here, the plant cells are being bombarded by heavy metal ions."
"Although we've severed their genetic chain, turning them into sterile mules," these foolish plants are unaware of this.
Luo Wei's lips curled up slightly.
"Their genes still retain the instinct honed over millions of years of evolution: to protect their core assets at all costs," namely the endosperm and the embryo, which is destined never to germinate.
"To provide a clean breeding ground for these stillborn babies," this plant, possessing fragments of the Tyren gene, is implementing a cruel loss-prevention procedure.
Lo Wei straightened up and drew a rudimentary model diagram in his notebook.
"They are forcibly pumping indigestible mercury and lead into the skin and awns."
"This is a bioaccumulation effect; they try to build themselves a highly toxic armor with heavy metals so that the starch inside remains pure."
"And that's exactly what we want."
At this point, Luo Wei pointed to the wheat ears on the drawing with the tip of his pen and continued, "Grey Mule-1 is making an investment that's destined to lose money. They're desperately trying to launder the 'bad debt' toxins, stripping them off to their subsidiaries—'wheat bran' and husks'—in an attempt to preserve the parent company's 'starch' asset value."
"They thought they were stockpiling food for the next generation, but in reality they were producing military rations for us."
After hearing what Rowe said, Father Alpha's data processor started working at lightning speed.
He quickly came to a conclusion, exclaiming in amazement, "Using the reproductive instinct of organisms as a purification filter is a brilliant idea, and theoretically feasible."
"But according to the consultant's analysis of the growth curve, the window of opportunity for this 'whitewashing' is extremely narrow."
"That's right."
Luo Wei closed the notebook, his eyes sharpening.
"If we harvest a day too early, before the toxins are completely removed, we will poison half of the Astral Legion and be sent to a military court."
"If it's delayed by even one day, the outer shell of the wheat grain will become completely metallic in order to fix these heavy metals in place, and the starch inside will become lignified as a result."
"What we'll harvest won't be grain, but a pile of indestructible rocks. So this is a precise harvest; we have to be accurate to the hour."
Then, Lowe turned around and gave a cold command: "Alpha, starting today, increase the sampling frequency. Perform a destructive slice analysis every six hours."
"I need you to build a dynamic toxin migration model. I need to know exactly when that red line will drop below the safe threshold."
"Also, inform old John to preheat the sealed industrial hot air furnaces. I remember there were several when I checked the fixed assets ledger last time."
Lowe took off his gloves and threw them into the waste bin.
"Since biological self-purification still carries the risk of residue, let's use physical means to give it another boost."
"I'm prepared with a high-temperature baking plan, even if it burns the wheat, I want to make sure the data on the final report is edible."
""
Upon hearing this, Father Alpha's several waving mechanical tentacles froze in mid-air.
The core of his logic is undergoing a violent upheaval.
As a member of the Cult of Mechanics, he was accustomed to praying to the machine spirit and using sacred ointments to soothe unknown malfunctions.
When faced with crops containing highly toxic substances, the standard procedure of the Mechanic Church is usually "purification":
That is, burn the soil and the seedlings together.
But Rowe did not.
This mortal did not pray, did not panic, and did not use any spiritual power whatsoever.
With just his naked eyes and a few rudimentary microscopes, he penetrated the most hidden physiological mechanisms within these mutated plants.
He transformed the uncontrollable "toxin" into a "variable" that can be calculated, predicted, and utilized.
Toxins can be transferred through bioaccumulation.
Use time differences to mitigate risks.
Finally, physical baking is used to seal the bottom.
This combination of techniques is so logically sound, it's like a perfectly functioning piece of STC code.
"Praise be to the God of all things!"
From Father Alpha's mechanical voice unit came a vibrato that sounded almost pious.
He stared at Rowe, who was bent over recording data, his supervisor's uniform seemingly concealing gears more intricate than those of any great sage.
"Advisor, your wisdom puts even the machine spirit to shame."
The priest lowered his semi-mechanical head.
"You're not just farming; you're writing logic for these beasts. This 'fight fire with fire, precise stripping' approach is practically a divine algorithm."
Without even looking up, Lowe replied indifferently, "This isn't sacred, Father. It's just cost control. The dead can't pay taxes, so we have to make sure this food is edible. That's all."
However, to the priest, these seemingly casual words were more deafening than any prayer.
Father Alpha suddenly stepped forward.
The massive mechanical pincers, gleaming with the luster of machine oil, reached for Luo Wei's shoulder.
Then, in a voice brimming with fervent anticipation, he asked, "Consultant Lowe, have you considered abandoning this weak, inefficient, and useless hormonal body?"
""
The priest's voice was seductive, like he was selling the latest graphics card.
"The Cult of Mechanics never welcomes mediocrity. But you are different; your thought process is so clear, cold, and full of logical beauty."
"As long as you nod your head, I can immediately submit an application to Mars to arrange the highest-level sacred transformation for you."
"6
He pointed to half of his skull, now replaced by a brass gear, and said proudly, "We can start by removing the pain receptors, then replace them with more efficient oracle-shaped prosthetic eyes, and finally replace this fragile skin with a ceramic armor shell—"
"Imagine, consultant, that you will no longer need sleep or food; you can conduct audits 24/7 without interruption!"
As Luo Wei was taking notes, his hand jerked so violently that the pen tip poked a hole in the paper.
In his mind, he imagined himself as an "audit can" with tubes inserted all over his body, only half of his head submerged in preservative solution.
No need for sleep? Working 24/7?
Isn't this just permanent overtime?!
"No, absolutely not!"
Luo Wei practically jumped up from his chair, his face ashen, and stumbled backward.
"Father, I love my sense of pain, and I also enjoy eating and sleeping! You should keep this blessing to yourself!"
After saying that, the supervisor, who was usually unfazed even by the collapse of Mount Tai, grabbed his notebook and fled in panic.
They almost forgot to close the airtight door to the laboratory.
Father Alpha stood there, stunned.
The mechanical prosthetic eye spun around twice in confusion, then emitted a puzzled buzzing sound.
He doesn't understand.
This is the path to ascension that countless mortals dream of.
It is the only shortcut to escape the suffering and weakness of flesh and blood.
Why did the consultant act so fearfully?
"I don't understand."
The priest turned to the few trembling apprentices huddled in the corner and asked, "Logically, this should be the optimal solution for work efficiency. Why did the consultant run away?"
The apprentices looked at each other in bewilderment.
Finally, it was the slightly bolder young apprentice who slowly raised his hand.
"M-Master—" The apprentice swallowed hard, pointing in the direction Rowe had fled, "Perhaps it's because the advisor isn't married yet?"
"Marriage?" Father Alpha's processor paused for a moment. "What's that? Some kind of inefficient biomass exchange agreement?"
The apprentice, forcing a smile, explained, "In mortal logic, if such—uh, such important organs—were replaced with hydraulic rods and exhaust pipes, then an agreement like marriage would be impossible to execute."
Father Alpha remained silent for a long time.
His core logic was running wildly, trying to explain why this base desire called "the instinct to reproduce" could overcome the pursuit of mechanical truth.
Finally, he let out a regretful electronic sigh.
"Indeed, flesh and blood are weak and vulnerable."
"Even a wise person like a consultant cannot escape the base pleasures brought by this physical appearance."
Three o'clock in the morning, at the eastern grain depot.
Apart from the ceaseless clatter of pistons from the distant factory, the whole world seemed to be asleep.
In the monitoring room on the top floor of the administration building, the constant temperature system maintains a refreshing 18 degrees Celsius.
After returning from Father Alpha, Lowe dealt with a mountain of official business, then sat down in front of an array of oracles screens.
The cup of synthetic coffee I was holding had stopped steaming.
He was not sleepy.
For a former auditor, the tranquility before the end-of-month closing is often an illusion.
In the Warhammer world, such tranquility usually signifies something terrible brewing in the shadows.
Luo Wei put down his coffee cup, picked up his pen, and circled an unusual peak value on the "Real-time Energy Consumption Monitoring Chart of Facilities at Night" that was flashing on the screen in front of him.
"Case".
He called softly.
The servo skull on the desktop, covered with pipes, lit up with a red light.
At the same time, the wet component server by the wall emitted a damp gurgling sound.
That was the sound of Case's brain vibrating in the nutrient solution.
"I'm here, supervisor. I'm at your service."
Luo Wei pointed to the red circle with the tip of his pen and asked, "Explain why the power consumption of the servo arrays in the outer perimeter sentry towers C-4 to C-9 has surged by forty percent in the past half hour?"
He paused for a moment, then added, "If it's an external array terminal that short-circuits and leaks electricity because the machine spirit is unhappy, and you turn a blind eye to it, I think Father Alpha would be very happy to take out the rest of your brain and make it into an insulating pad."
Case immediately replied, "Oh, supervisor, please don't do that. The wiring insulation is perfect. The surge in power consumption is because the bird tracker is performing intensive target-locking calculations: the readings of the peripheral biomass detectors have just increased by three hundred percent."
The green data stream on the screen suddenly changed, automatically switching to a thermal imaging view of the surrounding wasteland.
The once lifeless, gray-black wasteland is now densely covered with dark red dots of light.
Like a swarm of flies drawn by the smell of rotting flesh, they were approaching "Grey Mule-1" in the eastern granary from all directions.
The planting area is moving.
Lo Wei squinted and adjusted the focus.
The camera zooms in.
It was neither human nor a Nurgle walker.
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