In the laboratory of the Materials Analysis Department at the Observation Station, a faint smell of disinfectant mixed with an indescribable corrosive scent.
Ron, wearing specially designed protective gear, stood in front of the analysis table, carefully observing the sample before him.
It was a piece of "Devouring Bacteria" brought back from the second layer of the Abyss, covered with fine textures and displaying an eerie dark red under special light.
"Hey, rookie, be careful. That thing isn’t just ordinary stuff,"
Martin, a researcher sitting at the opposite workstation, reminded.
This man, appearing in his forties, had three fingers on his right hand completely keratinized, turning into a structure resembling a hard shell.
He was handling a batch of "Corrosion Worm" digestive fluid samples, skillfully yet extremely cautiously.
"The erosive nature of the Devouring Bacteria is extremely strong," Martin continued, glancing worriedly at the instrument Ron was operating:
"We once had a researcher here who, due to an operational error, directly contacted an untreated sample. As a result, in less than three hours, the entire forearm began to decompose. In the end, it had to be amputated to save a life."
Ron nodded to show understanding, but his hands did not pause for a moment.
He activated the "Extraordinary Recognition" skill, observing the internal structure of the live bacterial block through a special vision.
In his eyes, what seemed like a completely frozen block was, in fact, full of vitality.
Countless tiny energy threads were intertwined internally, forming a complex three-dimensional network.
More astonishingly, these energy threads were slowly but rhythmically pulsating, much like the vascular system of some organism.
"This kind of activity... samples from the Abyss indeed need to be freshly harvested to be of the greatest value."
Ron quickly jotted down his observations on the recording board.
His speed and accuracy of analysis drew glances from his surrounding colleagues.
Normally, a novice would need at least several days to grasp the basic traits of the Devouring Bacteria.
Yet Ron had reached deeper conclusions in less than an hour than many official researchers.
"You’re sure there’s a highly active life sign?"
Another researcher, Mary, came over. Her left eye had been replaced by some kind of luminous artificial organ, flickering with curious blue light:
"We’ve been studying this new sample for a year now, and we’ve never found any signs of life activity while in a frozen state."
"Please look here."
Ron pointed to the display screen of the analysis instrument, which showed the energy flow map within the frozen block:
"If you closely observe the energy distribution pattern, you’ll find they follow a specific cyclical change.
This change occurs at a frequency of about 72 times per minute, very close to the human heartbeat frequency."
Mary widened her eyes, carefully examining the data on the screen.
Indeed, among the seemingly chaotic energy fluctuations, there was a subtle regularity that, without Ron’s prompt, would be difficult to detect.
"More importantly is this reaction pattern."
Ron adjusted the instrument parameters slightly, and the screen immediately displayed another set of data:
"When we apply external stimulation to the crystal, its internal activities undergo corresponding changes.
When the temperature rises, the ’pulse’ quickens;
Upon receiving pressure, the direction of energy flow adjusts. This adaptive response is a typical life characteristic."
Other researchers in the laboratory also paused their work, gathering around to observe this discovery.
Wayne, the manager of this laboratory, also came over, his petrified half-face appearing especially eerie under the light.
"Researcher Ralph, your observational skills are indeed outstanding."
Wayne carefully examined Ron’s analysis report, a look of approval in his eyes.
However, as everyone crowded around discussing, Ron noticed a subtle detail.
Though his colleagues’ compliments were sincere, deep within those mutated eyes, he caught a barely noticeable twist of emotion.
That wasn’t simple jealousy, but a deeper unrest.
Unconsciously, Martin tapped the table with his keratinized fingers, producing an irritating scratching sound.
Mary’s artificial eye flashed more rapidly, reflecting internal turmoil.
Even Wayne, usually composed, had a slight twitch on his petrified half-face.
"Those working in this place," Ron was analyzing this subtle atmosphere in his heart:
"bear, to various extents, the cost of Abyss erosion, and my impressive newcomer performance might remind them of what they’ve lost."
This realization made Ron more cautious.
He began intentionally lowering his performance.
No longer displaying overly excellent analytical ability, he chose to work at a more "normal" pace.
In the following days, Ron gradually adapted to the work rhythm of the Observation Station.
Every morning at eight, he would arrive at the laboratory to process the samples accumulated from the previous day.
He had lunch in the canteen, and although the food treated by "Purification Worms" tasted strange, it did indeed provide ample nutrition.
In the afternoon, he continued analysis work, occasionally participating in discussions for small research projects.
In the evening, he rested in his sleeping pod.
Though oppressive, the rune stickers did provide basic spirit protection.
What impressed Ron the most was the mandatory checks every three days.
In the inspection room, dozens of precision instruments operated simultaneously, conducting comprehensive scans on each examinee.
When it was Ron’s turn for the check, the technician conducting the examination showed a clear look of surprise in their eyes.