The entry inspection hall at the Abyssal Observation Station is always filled with an unsettling aura.
The purification crystals embedded in the walls pulse every few seconds.
Ron stands at the inspection table, allowing the tentacle-like scanning devices to hover around his body.
These devices, made of living metal, are covered with fine nerve fibers and can perceive even the slightest energy changes.
The researcher in charge of the inspection is a witch in her early forties.
Her left side of the face was severely burned in an early abyss incident, and her skin resembles the rough texture of bark.
When the scan results appeared on the display screen, the middle-aged witch’s expression instantly froze.
"This... this is impossible..."
Her voice trembled, and the unburned hand began unconsciously stroking the burned cheek.
This was her habitual action when extremely nervous:
"The aura of chaos on you... this purity... my heavens... this is the highest level abyssal imprint I have ever seen..."
The screen displayed not an ordinary energy spectrum but a constantly changing geometric figure.
Those lines twisted like living snakes, forming various indescribable symbols, each exuding an eerie beauty that drives one to madness.
"Level assessment... this strength... Apostle level..."
Another technician came to assist, a gaunt middle-aged wizard.
His hands had turned unnaturally blue-black due to prolonged contact with abyssal material, and his nails hardened like metal.
"Apostle level... theoretically, anyone exposed to this level of imprint should already have..."
The wizard didn’t finish, but everyone understood his meaning.
An Apostle-level aura of chaos usually meant the exposed individual was either dead or had completely transformed into an unnameable monster.
"Please... please cooperate for deeper testing."
The middle-aged witch tried to control her emotions, yet her voice still trembled:
"We need to confirm your... consciousness integrity..."
The surrounding explorers began whispering, their gazes wavering between awe and fear.
Some people unconsciously stepped back a few paces, fearing the aura of chaos might contaminate them.
"Of course, I understand your concern."
Ron could feel the fear surging like tides in the hearts of the inspection personnel:
"No one knows the danger of the abyss better than the researchers; I will cooperate with the standard procedure for testing."
The ensuing inspection process was filled with bizarre details.
The spiritual contamination scanner emitted not the usual buzzing, but an eerie tone resembling a baby’s cry.
As the blood analyzer processed his sample, the internal culture liquid began to glow autonomously, as if filled with liquid stars.
Most unsettling was the nervous system check.
When the probe touched Ron’s temple, countless overlapping human faces appeared on the inspection device’s screen.
These faces were male and female, old and young, yet shared the same transcendent expression, as if contemplating a truth beyond human understanding.
"These faces..."
The wizard stared at the screen, his blue-black fingers beginning to tremble slightly:
"They’re... they’re smiling at us..."
However, all conventional contamination indicators showed entirely opposite results.
"Spirit stability 99.3%... consciousness clarity 99.7%..."
The middle-aged witch repeated the data over and over, seemingly questioning the accuracy of the equipment:
"The concentration of abyssal factors in the blood... is even lower than the standard value... this logically makes no sense..."
She looked up at Ron, her intact eye filled with confusion and a certain reverence:
"What... what exactly have you come into contact with?"
"Certain... relatively harmless beings."
Ron’s response was succinct and vague, but the information contained within was enough to shock everyone present.
Being able to make relatively "harmless" contact with an Abyssal Apostle, such an assertion was surreal.
Just as the inspection was about to conclude, Wayne the supervisor slowly approached.
His half-petrified face appeared particularly grotesque and terrifying under the inspection lights.
"Wizard Ralph..."
Wayne’s voice emerged from deep within his throat, carrying a gravelly texture like rocks grinding against each other:
"It seems your exploration this time... yielded abundant results."
He paused, and a hint of envy showed in the petrified left eye:
"But rules are rules. Any returnee carrying an Apostle-level imprint must undergo isolation observation. This is not against you personally, but for... the safety of the entire observation station."
Wayne’s words were formal, but the implicit respect was more pronounced than before.
In a place like the Abyssal Observation Station, strength is the best pass.
"I completely understand, supervisor."
Ron nodded in agreement:
"Safety measures are never too many, especially in an environment like this."
"Thank you for your cooperation..."
Wayne turned to signal him to follow:
"The isolation area is deeper, with better shielding effect. Three days’ time, if you need anything... books, research equipment, experimental materials... we will do our best to meet your needs."
They proceeded along a spiral passage leading downwards.
"These walls..." Ron observed the surrounding environment as he walked:
"What are they made of?"
"Abyss Worm neural tissue."
Wayne’s response was concise and direct:
"After special treatment, they can perceive and filter various harmful spiritual waves. For the isolation area, this is the ideal building material."