Stepping inside the observation station, everything here seems to defy common sense, as if entering a completely different world.
The first thing that catches the eye is the "living" walls.
They appear to be some kind of translucent biological tissues, constantly rippling with subtle waves on the surface.
When Ron’s fingertip accidentally touches the wall, the area immediately reacts.
The texture on the surface changes, as if "remembering" his touch.
"Don’t be too surprised," Reynolds notices Ron’s expression:
"You should have felt it outside earlier; these are ’active building materials,’ a major feature of the observation station. They can self-repair, self-adjust, and even identify intruders."
Indeed, as they turn a corner, Ron sees the astonishing capability of these materials.
There is a visible crack on the wall, but it is healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Countless tiny tentacles stretch out from both sides of the crack, intertwining, and eventually perfectly filling the gap.
"This technology originates from the ’regeneration moss’ of the Abyss Fourth Layer," Reynolds continues to explain:
"Through special bloodline modulation technology, we successfully fused it with traditional building materials. The result is walls that will never truly be damaged."
During the elevator ride, the cabin’s "ceiling" transforms into a huge display screen, showcasing real-time conditions of the observation station’s various floors.
Ron can see densely-packed personnel location points and the operational status of various equipment.
"Green means normal, yellow requires attention, red represents emergency."
Reynolds points to the color codes on the display screen:
"At the moment, everything seems normal, but in this place, ’normal’ can turn into ’emergency’ at any time."
"Let me show you the living facilities now."
Reynolds leads Ron to the living area of the observation station.
Everything here exemplifies an extreme adherence to the principle of "safety first."
The design of the dining hall was eye-opening for Ron.
Every dining table is an independent sealed pod, and diners need to wear specially designed breathing masks to eat through a pipe system.
"These are foods treated by ’purification worms,’" Reynolds points to the dishes that appear unusually vibrant:
"They can identify and remove any potential Abyssal contamination from the food. Although the taste may be somewhat... unique, it is absolutely safe."
Ron tries a bite and finds the taste indeed strange.
Not unpleasant, but it’s a feeling that cannot be described using conventional vocabulary.
Like simultaneously tasting sweetness, sourness, bitterness, yet each is surrounded by a kind of neutral ’blankness.’
"Newcomers need some time to adapt," Reynolds nods understandingly:
"But you’ll soon find that this food is not only rich in nutrients but also gradually enhances resistance to pollution. Long-term consumption significantly increases employees’ resistance to low-grade Abyssal erosion."
The design of the sleeping area is even more suffocating.
Each employee is assigned an enclosed "sleep pod," resembling a cryo chamber from a spaceship.
The interior of the pod is filled with various monitoring equipment capable of real-time tracking of the user’s vital signs, brain activity, and even dream content.
"The influence of the Abyss isn’t only present during wakefulness," Reynolds explains:
"Spiritual protection during sleep is the weakest, and it’s when contamination easily infiltrates. These monitoring devices can detect anomalies at the first moment and initiate an emergency wake-up procedure."
The walls of the pod are covered with densely packed rune stickers, each flickering with faint light.
"Spiritual barrier runes," Reynolds continues to introduce:
"During sleep, they form a protective network to block most external spiritual intrusions. Although it can’t guarantee complete effectiveness, at least it provides a relatively safe resting environment."
After visiting the living facilities, Reynolds brings Ron to a spacious lounge.
Here, over a dozen observation station staff of different identities are gathered, allowing Ron to intuitively understand the power structure here.
"Now let me introduce the internal factions of the observation station in detail."
Reynolds lowers his voice to ensure that no one else hears:
"In broad terms, there are two major camps here: the research group and the exploration team. Ostensibly, they differ in the nature of their work, but in reality, it’s a division of political stance."
He points to several people in a corner, dressed in scholar’s robes, quietly discussing academic issues:
"Those are members of the research group, mainly composed of scholar-type Wizards. They favor Professor Yutel’s ’balance faction’ philosophy, advocating cautious exploration, in-depth research, and avoiding excessive risk."
"The research group has a strict hierarchy," Reynolds continues to explain:
"Intern researchers are at the bottom, mainly responsible for organizing materials, maintaining equipment, and other basic tasks.
Assistant researchers can participate in some low-risk analysis projects.
Official researchers are eligible to access confidential materials and conduct independent research.
Senior researchers enjoy project leadership and resource allocation privileges."
Ron observes these research group members and finds most of them pale and thin, evidently lacking sunlight and exercise for a long time.
But each of their eyes is filled with a craving for knowledge, that pure scholar’s aura leaves a deep impression.
"These jobs are relatively safe, rarely requiring direct contact with the Abyss environment; you were specially recruited by Professor Yutel based on your expertise, allowing you to start directly as an assistant researcher."