Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 594 The Lungs of Chaos
Ron stood at the edge of the mine, gazing at the restricted area marked in red, feeling the faint pulse emanating from its depths.

The feeling was like standing on the breathing hole of a sleeping behemoth.

Each breath caused an imperceptible tremor in the ground of the entire mining area.

His "chaotic ram's head" bloodline resonated wildly, yearning for deeper exploration.

But reason told him that now was not the time.

The prohibition left by the high priest was by no means unfounded.

This being, who ruled the planet Stoker for countless years, knew the secrets deep within the mines.

If I were to intrude recklessly, triggering some kind of warning mechanism...
"patience."

Ron silently recited in his mind:
"To become a true hunter, you must first learn to wait."

He looked away and rolled up the map marked "Digging Prohibited" again.

The edges of the parchment faintly showed traces of some kind of energy fluctuation.

That was the imprint of the High Priest's will.

Even after decades, this mark has not completely disappeared.

"First control the surface, then plot the deeper levels."

He turned and left the mine entrance, heading towards the governor's mansion.

Behind him, the evacuated workers stood at a distance, watching the suddenly arriving new governor with eyes that were a mixture of fear and curiosity.

They whispered among themselves, wondering what the young man was up to.

After all, in their memory, no governor had ever really cared about the mine itself.

Those high-ranking nobles only came here to make a quick buck and then escape this hell filled with coal smoke and the smell of death.

However, Karen's attitude was completely different.

He personally descended to the mine entrance, gazing into the abyss-like darkness with his eyes concealed by armor.

This behavior was both crazy and incomprehensible to the miners.

Upon returning to the governor's mansion, Ron found that a dozen or so people had already gathered in the lobby on the first floor.

They are managers at various levels in the mining area: foremen, supervisors, and material dispatchers.
Everyone was dressed in relatively decent leather jackets with metal buckles, a stark contrast to the ragged workers outside.

When "Karen" pushed open the door, all eyes turned to him.

Among those gazes were probing, contempt, and apprehension, as well as a very few expressions of expectation.

Standing at the very front was a burly, middle-aged man with a gray beard.

His face was etched with the lines of time, and there was a hideous scar at the corner of his right eye that stretched all the way to his ear.

Those sharp, eagle-like eyes were scrutinizing Ron without any attempt to hide it.

"Bach Iron Fist, foreman of the West City Mining Area."

The man's voice was deep and hoarse, like the friction of rusty iron.

He nodded slightly as a greeting.

"On behalf of the mine management, I welcome Your Excellency the Governor."

Although the words were spoken politely, everyone present could sense the underlying laziness and perfunctoriness that permeated their very being.

It's like a seasoned veteran dealing with an arrogant young nobleman.

Ron's gaze swept over everyone in the hall, taking in every micro-expression.

The other managers behind Bach practically radiated contempt in their eyes.

They exchanged glances, a faint, cold smile playing on their lips.

Clearly, in their view, this young governor who had been suddenly parachuted in would only stay here for a few months.

Then, like their predecessors, they slunk back to Hearthheart.

"Thank you for your hard work, everyone."

Ron's voice was calm and unhurried, yet it possessed a certain indescribable penetrating power.

Bach was somewhat surprised.

This young man's opening remarks were surprisingly gentle?
but……

"Manager Bach, could you please present me with the accounts for the past three months for my review?"

Ron said casually, as if he were just asking about today's weather.

The atmosphere in the hall paused slightly.

Bach's expression changed.

The ledger in his hand was full of various "technical adjustments".

Production was underreported, casualties were concealed, and resource consumption was exaggerated.
These methods are the "survival wisdom" passed down from successive supervisors.

This was also the only way for these collateral branches of the nobility and the declining minor nobles to make a living in the mining area.

In this way, they are able to extract extra profits from every aspect of the mining operation.

The former governor was fully aware of this, but chose to turn a blind eye.

After all, as long as the surface data is acceptable and the temple doesn't pursue the matter, everyone can live in peace.

Successive governors had no way to deal with these powerful overseers.

They all had their own families supporting them; some were branches of powerful noble families, while others were minor noble families that, though in decline, still had deep roots.

If you touch one, it could affect many others.

But now, this young man wants to check the accounts right away?

"of course."

Bach forced a professional smile, the scar at the corner of his eye twitching slightly with the movement of his muscles.

"The ledger is in the office, I'll go get it."

He turned and left, his steps seemingly steady, but in reality, he was already making plans in his mind.

That "fake account" was something he had put a lot of effort into creating.

Every number and every record has been carefully arranged to ensure that it appears flawless on the surface.

Even experienced auditors would find it difficult to spot the flaws in a short period of time.

Moreover, this young governor seems to have just come from his family.

"What can you discern about it?"

Bach sneered inwardly.

Ten minutes later, he returned to the hall, holding a thick parchment ledger in his hands.

"Your Excellency, here are the ledgers you requested."

Bach respectfully handed over the ledger, his tone confident:

"It contains detailed records of all the output from the twelve mines over the past three months, as well as worker injuries and fatalities."

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

Ron took the ledger but did not open it immediately.

Instead, he gently placed it on the table beside him, then turned and walked towards the window of the hall.

He looked out at the mining area shrouded in black clouds, his gaze seemingly scrutinizing something.

The managers in the lobby began to sense that something was amiss.

This young man's behavior was extremely unusual.

Normally, after receiving the ledger, one would either immediately flip through it and pick out a few problems to demonstrate one's "professionalism";
They might glance at it briefly and then offer a perfunctory "Thank you for your hard work, keep it up."

However, "Karen" did nothing.

He simply stood by the window, motionless like a statue.

Time passes minute by minute.

The atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly oppressive.

Some people unconsciously adjusted their posture, while others coughed softly, trying to break the suffocating silence.

Just when everyone was about to lose their temper...
Ron finally turned around.

"Gentlemen," his voice remained as cold and indifferent as ever.
"Before I look at the ledgers, I'd like to take a walk around the mining area."

His gaze swept over Bach:

"Personally, I believe the best ledger is not on paper, but in the ore itself."

Bach's heart clenched suddenly.

The young man's gaze made him feel an unprecedented unease.

"I'll go with you..."

"No need."

Ron waved his hand:

"I'll go by myself."

Please wait a moment while I return, and then we will discuss the contents of the ledgers in detail.

After saying that, he turned and left the hall, leaving a group of managers looking at each other in bewilderment.

Ron walked alone on the main road of the mining area.

On both sides were rows of simple shacks, and the air was filled with coal smoke, sweat, and some indescribable atmosphere of despair.

He closed his eyes and activated the expert trait, "Interpreter of All Things."

The next moment, the whole world became incredibly vivid in his perception.

The crystal structure, oxidation level, and distribution of micro-cracks on the surface of each piece of ore tell Ron its history.

The fingerprints and sweat stains left on the ore allowed him to deduce the number of times it had been handled.
The thickness of the weathered layer allows him to calculate the storage time.
Even the stress distribution inside the ore can tell you what kind of impact the stone has undergone.

This information, like a series of precise data tables, was automatically compiled and organized in his mind.

He was able to deduce the mine's actual output from these details.

Bach's ledger records "Mine No. 3, total ore production in the last three months: 8734 tons".

However, by "listening" to the stories of hundreds of ore samples, the mining time, stockpiling density, and transportation frequency were cross-verified.
Ron arrived at a completely different number:

"At least 12500 tons."

That's an extra four thousand tons!
Where did these "hidden" ores go?
The answer is self-evident.

Ron put down the ore he was holding and stood up.

Three hours later, he returned to the governor's mansion.

The managers in the lobby were still waiting, but they were all starting to get anxious.

The young governor's inspection tour took far too long.

Moreover, the indifferent expression on his face when he returned made people feel even more uncomfortable.

It was a calm confidence, a composure that came from having all the cards up one's sleeve.

"I've kept you waiting for a long time."

Ron walked to the center of the hall and picked up the heavy ledger.

He didn't open it immediately, but looked up at Bach with a playful smile on his lips:
"Manager Bach, I just took a walk around the mining area and noticed some interesting phenomena."

Bach feigned composure: "Your Excellency, please speak."

Ron opened the ledger to the first page, his eyes scanning the densely packed numbers.

“The No. 1 mine recorded an output of 6892 tons.”

"However, based on the degree of weathering of the ore in the stockpile area, the wear and tear of the tools, and the depth of the transport ruts..."
Based on comprehensive calculations, the actual output should be around 9100 tons. The margin of error is 32%.

He raised his head, his gaze sharp and piercing:
"The No. 2 mine has a book value of 5431 tons, but the actual amount is about 7650 tons. The error is 40%."

"The No. 3 mine has a book value of 8734 tons, but the actual amount is over 12500 tons. The error is 43%."

Ron closed the ledger, his voice turning cold:
“Every mine has a 30% to 50% ‘statistical error’.”

Moreover, this error exhibits a striking regularity—the higher the output, the larger the absolute value of the error.

“Director Bach,” Ron said, looking directly at him, “is this also a coincidence?”

The hall suddenly became eerily quiet.

All eyes turned to Bach.

The old manager's face turned ashen.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but found himself at a loss for words.

Because the numbers they provided were incredibly precise!
"I"

Bach's voice was as hoarse as a bellows.

"No need to explain."

Ron waved his hand:

“I know this isn’t your invention alone.”

All the supervisors and managers used the same methods to extract profits from the mining area.

Successive governors could do nothing about it and could only acquiesce; the temple didn't pursue the matter, so you became increasingly audacious.

He looked around: "But now, the rules of the game have changed."

All the managers in the hall felt a chill run down their spines.

They finally realized that the young man in front of them was no novice as they had imagined.

“Starting today.” Ron’s voice left no room for argument:

"All accounts must be recorded truthfully."

Anyone found to have tampered with the data will be immediately dismissed.

He turned to the group of young foremen in the corner:

"You guys, come here."

The young men were stunned for a moment, then walked up to Ron tremblingly.

“From today onwards, you will be responsible for establishing an independent production verification system.”

Ron's voice softened:
"They record the mining situation truthfully every day and report directly to me without going through any intermediaries."

"If you do well, I'll consider promoting you."

The young foremen's eyes immediately lit up.

"Thank you, Your Excellency!"

They were so excited they were incoherent.

Bach's expression grew increasingly grim.

He realized that the power network he had painstakingly built over many years was being dismantled little by little by this young man using extremely clever methods.

"As for you, Director Bach."

Ron turned to the old overseer:
"Given your many years of experience working in the mines, I will not fire you."

Bach felt a sense of relief, but the next sentence made his heart jump again.

"But your responsibilities need to be adjusted. I need you to be in charge of the 'waste ore recycling' project—those discarded waste rocks often contain trace amounts of extractable metals."

Establish a complete recycling system to extract the full value from every stone.

Ron said calmly:

"This job is equally important, and I hope you do a good job."

On the surface, this is an "important" job.

But everyone understands that this is a form of marginalization.

Waste ore recycling has always been the least valued and least profitable task in mining areas.

Transferring Bach to this position is tantamount to stripping him of his real power, while retaining his nominal post.

In this way, Ron not only demonstrated his "tolerance" but also completely undermined the other party's power base.

Moreover, the noble families behind Bach could not find fault with him.

After all, the governor did not dismiss him, but simply reassigned him to a new job to make the best use of his talents.

clever!

In the corner, the contempt on the faces of the veteran managers who had previously looked down on Ron had completely disappeared, replaced by deep fear.

They finally realized that this seemingly young governor was actually meticulous and shrewd.

In just a few hours, he completely took control of the mining area through a precise "listening" exercise.

After the meeting, Ron let the ink control his body and remained in the office at his own pace.

He then closed his eyes and, through the blood connection, called upon Nari.

The fifth level of the abyss, in the Chaos Palace.

Nari was in the garden, gently stroking the "newborn beasts" she had tamed with her tentacles.

Suddenly, she felt the call of her own child.

"baby!"

Her voice was filled with surprise:

"You contacted your mom so quickly!"

"Yes, we've made an important discovery."

Ron's consciousness projection condensed and took shape in the palace:

"Mom, I found something very special on the planet Stoker."

I need you to help me confirm what it is.

Nari curiously peered closer, hundreds of eyes simultaneously gleaming with excitement:
"What is it? Tell me quickly!"

Ron described in detail the "primordial chaos" aura he had sensed deep within the mine.

This includes the frequency of the pulsation, the nature of the energy, and its similarity to the abyss.
As he listened, Nari's expression began to turn serious.

Hundreds of eyes widened simultaneously, gleaming with disbelief.

"You mean... that aura, with a rhythmic quality like 'breathing'?"

Her voice trembled:

"Moreover, the frequency is highly similar to the 'mother' aura of the fifth layer of the abyss?"

"Yes."

Ron nodded:

“My ‘Chaotic Ram’s Head’ bloodline resonated strongly.”

That feeling was like being called closer, wanting to establish some kind of connection with me.

"That is."

Nari's voice suddenly choked up:
"That's definitely a fragment of 'Mother'!"

“Baby, what you found should be fragments of ‘Mother’s’ body!”

Ron's heart clenched suddenly.

Although he had some suspicions before, he never imagined that his guess would be so accurate.

"Mom, could you tell me in more detail?"

He suppressed his excitement.

Nari took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

She then began to recount a hidden history unknown even to most of the official wizards of the wizarding civilization.

"A long, long time ago, at the very beginning of the universe."

Her voice became ethereal and distant:
"'Mother' is one of the first primordial beings born from chaos."

"He represents 'disorder,' 'change,' and 'possibility'—all the fundamental concepts associated with 'chaos.'"

"His power is unimaginable. It can even be said that He is the embodiment of 'chaos' itself."

Nari's voice was filled with reverence and longing for his "mother".

She continued:
"However, this power also attracted covetousness."

"In the Second Era, the three 'Foundation Gods' of the Wizarding Civilization—the Progenitor, the Creator, and the Apocalypse—along with several other transcendent beings."

"They joined forces and launched a siege against the 'Mother'."

"The result of that war was a crushing defeat for the besieged 'Mother'."

"But He did not die completely."

"Among the besiegers, the most powerful wizarding civilization took its core and sealed it deep within the continent, forming the 'Great Abyss' as it is today."

"His body was torn into countless pieces and scattered in every corner of the universe."

Nari's voice was filled with anger and sorrow:

“Every fragment contains a part of the power of the ‘mother’.”

"Some fragments fell into the void and transformed into wandering chaotic nebulae."

"Some fragments merged into the planets and became the energy cores of those planets."

"Some fragments were also hoarded by the attackers for their own research and power enhancement."

“They not only defeated the ‘Mother,’ but also divided up Her body as spoils of war.”

"This is the greatest blasphemy against a primordial being!"

Ron was terrified.

Even Professor Utter had never mentioned this part of history to him.

Clearly, this is a secret that the highest levels of the wizarding civilization have deliberately concealed.

"Then, that fragment deep within the core of the planet Stoker?"

He asked tentatively:
"Which part of the 'mother' do you think it should be?"

"Based on your description."

Nari pondered for a moment:

"That 'breathing' rhythm, and the continuous pulse of energy."

"It is very likely part of the 'Mother's' 'Lungs of Chaos' or the 'Heart of Chaos'."

"These two organs are responsible for regulating the energy circulation within the 'mother's' body and are one of the core hubs of Her power."

"If it really is fragments of these two organs..."

Her voice became excited:
"Its value far exceeds your imagination!"

"Baby, if Mommy could absorb this fragment..."

Not only will it restore most of its power, but it might even break through its current rank and get closer to the level its 'mother' reached back then!

"and"

Her voice softened:

"Mom will share this strength with you."

“Your ‘Chaotic Ram’s Head’ bloodline is inherently deeply connected to your ‘Mother’.”

"If you can absorb the energy from the fragments, your bloodline will evolve to a whole new level!"

Ron's heart raced.

The temptation is just too great.

But he quickly calmed down:

"Mom, the problem is that the fragment has been forbidden by the ruler of this place."

Approaching rashly could trigger an alarm.

"Furthermore, I'm not sure if that fragment itself has any self-awareness."

"If it sees me as an intruder."

"No, baby."

Nari immediately interrupted him:
“The fragments of ‘mother’ contain great power, but lack a complete sense of self.”

"They are more like a collection of 'instincts'."

"It will only instinctively absorb the energy around it and instinctively reject the existence of 'foreign' substances."

"but."

Her voice turned sly:

“If you approach with the scent of your mother, it will mistake you for part of itself.”

"Not only will they not reject you, they will actively seek to connect with you!"

"In this way, you can exchange energy with the fragments silently without alerting the ruler!"

Ron's eyes lit up:
"Mom, can you give me the aura of 'mother'?"

"Of course!"

Nari's tentacles waved excitedly in the water:
"A mother herself is the seed of 'motherhood,' with the purest primordial chaos flowing within her."

"I can create a small 'clone' for you."

"This clone will carry the mother's aura, which is equivalent to carrying the 'mother's' aura."

"As long as you bring it close to the fragments, you can achieve harmless energy exchange!"

"and"

She added:

"This clone can also help you 'monitor' the status of the fragments."

If any abnormal fluctuations occur in the fragments, the clone will notify you immediately, giving you time to evacuate.

  "This way, we can both acquire the power of the fragments and avoid being watched by others!"

Ron was very interested in hearing this.

This is the perfect solution!
However, he still had one concern:
"Mom, will creating a clone consume your source power?"

Yes, baby.

Nari said honestly, "But Mom doesn't care. Mom is willing to pay any price as long as it can help you."

"not to mention"

Her voice was full of anticipation:

"If you can truly absorb the power of that fragment, then your mother's sacrifices will be rewarded a thousandfold!"

"By then, with my son and me joining forces, who can stop us?"

Ron remained silent for a moment.

Nari's love for him has always been so sincere and selfless.

"Okay, then I'll leave it to Mom."

………………

"Right now, I need a reasonable, legitimate, and even acceptable pretext."

Ron silently recited the mantra, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, producing a rhythmic tapping sound.

His thoughts raced like intricate gears in his mind.

What reason could give a newly appointed governor a sufficient excuse to conduct an in-depth study of the mine's internal environment?

What kind of behavior can both conceal the true intention and gain the approval or even praise of superiors?

The answer emerged after the third tap—reform.

The truly skillful disguise is never about "hiding," but about "revealing."

The more open and aboveboard the behavior, the less likely it is to arouse suspicion.

The more beneficial a reform is to the country and its people, the more support it will receive from all sides.

In this mining area shrouded in coal smoke and despair, what needs reform most is precisely the "gold-burning disease" that is eroding the lives of the workers.

Ron walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a dusty parchment scroll from the bottom shelf.

These are archival documents left by the former governor, recording various "unfinished projects" in the mining area over the years.

The parchment unfolded, emitting a musty, stale smell, its edges yellowed and curled.

Ron's gaze swept across the dense text, finally settling on the bottom right corner of a certain page.

There, in faded ink, a forgotten plan was hastily recorded:
[Memorandum of the Thirteenth Governor Graham]

[Research Project on Symbiotic Microorganisms in Mines]

[Date of discovery: 847 AD]

[Location of discovery: Mine No. 7, at a depth of 1800 meters]

Ron's fingers gently traced the text, feeling the rough texture of the parchment.

"Cemetery mold..."

This name had long been passed down among the miners, carrying a mysterious and ominous connotation.

Because it only grows in the deepest mine tunnels, in places close to the "forbidden zone".

Because its shape resembles the fingers of the dead, it emits a faint green light in the darkness.

It always appears in areas where mining accidents have occurred, as if it is summoning the souls of the dead.

However, it is precisely these "ominous" characteristics that, in turn, prove its value.

The bacteria that can survive in the deepest parts of a mine have extremely strong adaptability.

Organisms that can absorb toxic substances are naturally the best "purifiers".

Light-emitting fungi are natural "lighting tools".

The former governor abandoned it simply because it was difficult to cultivate and slow to produce results, which did not suit the tastes of those noblemen who only wanted to make quick money.

But for Ron, these "shortcomings" became the best cover-up.

Is the cultivation cycle long?
This gave him ample time to gradually infiltrate deeper into the mine.

Are the environmental requirements stringent?

We needed to go deep into the bottom of the mine tunnels to "collect samples" and "test the environment."

Is it technically difficult?

This is a perfect opportunity to showcase his extraordinary talent as a "genius boy" and further solidify his position.

What's even more remarkable is that the project itself possesses extremely high "political correctness."

Improving workers' health and reducing mortality rates is a form of benevolent governance.

Saving energy consumption and improving output efficiency are capabilities.

The combination of the two makes it a perfect "political achievement project".

The upper-class nobles would applaud him because it would bring them practical benefits.

The working class will be grateful to him because it can really save lives.

He himself, under the cover of this righteous facade, was able to quietly accomplish his true goal—to come into contact with the fragments of "Mother's" body.

"That's it."

Ron rolled up the parchment again.

He took out a brand new sheet of paper and began writing the formal project report.

The report is written in a simple and rigorous tone, and is full of technical details and data support.

[Current Situation Analysis]

The average annual incidence of "gold burning disease" among workers in the Chengxi mining area is 43.7%, of which 15.2% eventually die from lung failure.

Main causes: long-term inhalation of suspended metal particles, sulfide dust, and toxic gases leaking from deep within mines.

Existing protective measures are of limited effectiveness, the replacement cycle for gas masks is too long, and they are expensive, making them unaffordable for workers.

The annual loss of labor due to "gold burning disease" is equivalent to an economic value of approximately 8700 pure gold coins.

Meanwhile, mine lighting relies on external energy supply, consuming an average of about 12000 standard gold nuggets per year, accounting for 17.3% of the total expenditure of the mining area.

【Solution】

Launch a plan for the artificial cultivation and promotion of "tomb mold".

This bacterial strain is native to mines and possesses the following characteristics:
Strong adsorption: (details omitted)
Bioluminescence: (details omitted)
Self-sustaining: (details omitted)
[Expected Benefits]

Short term (within 1-2 years):
The incidence of "gold-burning disease" among workers has decreased to below 25%.
Energy consumption for mine lighting has been reduced by 40%.
The average annual cost savings is approximately 5000 pure gold coins.

Long term (within 3-5 years):
Workers' average life expectancy increased by 8-12 years

Increased workforce stability reduces training costs for new workers.

Energy consumption reduced by more than 70%
This approach can be extended to other mining areas to form a sustainable ecological purification system.

Ron paused briefly at this point.

He needed to add a "sweet coating" at the end of the report, enough to sway those aristocratic gentlemen who only cared about their own interests.

【Additional Notes】

The “tomb mold” project will not weaken the output of the mining area; on the contrary, it can improve the overall production efficiency by improving the health of workers.

Preliminary estimates suggest that healthy workers have a productivity per unit time that is more than 30% higher than that of sick workers.

If successful, this project will be a landmark event in the mining history of Hearthheart, presenting the temple with an innovative achievement worthy of being recorded in history.

Please approve.

Applicant: Karen Walker

[Governor of the Western City Mines]

[Fire Calendar 1923, Third Week of Gray Month]

The quill pen fell to the last period.

Ron gently blew the report dry, then sealed it with sealing wax and stamped it with the governor's seal.

The whole process was completed in one go, just like an experienced bureaucrat handling routine documents.

However, only he himself knew that this seemingly ordinary report was actually a meticulously crafted key.

It will open the door to the deepest part of the mine for him, and give his actions to access the fragments of "Mother" an impeccable cloak of legitimacy.

"Ink".

The ink responded immediately, its consciousness fluctuating and questioning.

"Submit this report to Luxincheng through official channels."

Remember to be respectful in attitude, but firm in tone.

Demonstrate the enthusiasm of a young reformer, while also showcasing sufficient professional competence.

Ron gave the order:
"In addition, preparations for the laboratory began immediately after the report was submitted."

The abandoned warehouse area on the east side of the mining area was requisitioned and transformed into a microbial culture base.

We must act swiftly and on a large scale, so that everyone can see our 'determination.'

The ink received the instruction and began to mobilize "Karen's" body to execute it.

Ron's consciousness, once again connected by bloodline, descended into the Chaos Palace on the fifth level of the Abyss.

Nari was already waiting.

Hundreds of her eyes were simultaneously fixed on Ron's consciousness projection, filled with anticipation and excitement.

"Honey! Have you thought of a plan?"

Her voice was as clear and melodious as a silver bell.
"Mom has prepared a clone, ready to be sent over at any time!"

"Well, before sending the clones away, I need some special 'vessels'."

Ron's consciousness projected onto the crystal floor of the palace and coalesced into a form.

He stretched out his hand, and a phantom of light and shadow appeared in his palm.

That was the form of "tomb mold" that he constructed from his memory.

"Mom, can you help me modify this fungus?"

Nari's tentacles immediately reached out and gently touched the ball of light and shadow.

A moment later, a look of understanding flashed in her eyes.

"Oh I got it!"

She let out a pleasant laugh:
“Baby, you want Mommy’s clone to parasitize this fungus, and then, under the guise of ‘cultivating strains,’ send them to the deepest part of the mine!”

"In this way, the clone can bring the mother's scent close to the 'mother' fragment without arousing any suspicion!"

"So smart! You're truly Mommy's darling!"

Nari rolled around excitedly in the water, hundreds of tentacles waving merrily:
"This modification is very simple!"
The mother only needs to integrate a small portion of her cells into the hyphal structure of this fungus.

“They may look like ordinary ‘mold’ on the surface, but they have actually become an extension of the mother’s consciousness!”

"Through the mycelial network, Mom can 'see' everything deep in the mine and 'perceive' the exact location and condition of that fragment!"

"and"

Her tone turned sly:
"This modified strain grows more than ten times faster than the original strain, and its adaptability is also greatly improved."

"Not only can it complete your superficial 'purification project,' it can also secretly draw up an energy map of the entire 'abyss-like' region for us!"

"Kill two birds with one stone!"

Ron felt much more at ease upon hearing this.

With Nari's help, the success rate of this plan will increase exponentially.

"So, when will Mom be ready?"

"Now you can!"

Nari answered without hesitation:
"Mom then began to separate the cells and condense the clones."

"but."

She hesitated slightly:
"Honey, you said you wanted to use that Ironhead's channel to send the clone disguised as 'alien dust' over there?"

"Well... Mom doesn't know much about the situation over there, so she needs you to coordinate."

Ron nodded:
“I’ll handle it. Now, let me contact them first.”

His consciousness was detached from the Chaos Palace, crossed the dimensional barrier, and descended into another world.

………………

Vinard's Colony, Emerald Ring II.

The light from the communication crystal illuminated the office.

Ella is compiling a report on the progress of education for mixed-race children.

Upon seeing the caller ID, a look of surprise immediately appeared on his face.

"Associate Professor Ron!"

Her voice was as warm as the spring sunshine:
"Long time no see, how have you been lately?"

"Not bad, Ms. Ella."

Ron's projection condensed in the crystal:
"I'm contacting you today because I need your help."

"You say!"

Ella immediately stopped smiling and her expression became serious:
"I will do my best to assist you, as long as it is within my power!"

"I need to send a batch of 'supplies' to Stoker Star through that special channel."

Ron's tone suggested he was discussing something completely mundane:
"This batch of supplies needs to be disguised as 'alien dust' and delivered precisely to designated coordinates via your orbital delivery system."

Ella paused for a moment, then realized what was happening.

"Understood, same procedure as last time?"

She lowered her voice:
How big of a 'package' should we prepare?

"Very small, about the size of a fingernail."

Ron replied:
"But the packaging must be discreet enough to withstand the high temperatures and impacts of the tracks."

"no problem."

Ella nodded:
"Recently, the asteroid belt near Stoker has been very active, and the frequency of natural meteorite falls is very high."

In this context, one or two more 'man-made meteorites' would hardly attract any attention.

Ron smiled with satisfaction:
"Great, then I'll leave it to you."

"It should."

Ella smiles:
"But, Associate Professor, may I ask what this 'supplies' are?"

"Some biological samples."

Ron answered truthfully, but without elaborating:
"For a special breeding project."

Ella nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

As Vinard's key assistant, she knew that the less you knew, the safer you were.

When is the deployment expected to be completed?

Ron asked.

Give me three days to prepare.

Ella pondered for a moment:
"Three days later, there will be a regular window of opportunity, during which the product will be least likely to be detected."

"Okay, that's settled."

Ron was about to end the call when Ella suddenly spoke:
"Associate Professor Ron, wait a moment."

Her expression became somewhat hesitant.

"what happened?"

"It's about Alistair."

Ella sighed softly:
"His recent behavior is a bit off."

Ron's heart skipped a beat.

"What is the specific situation?"

He asked casually, even though he already had a vague idea of ​​the answer.

"He is still holding a grudge about being criticized by his teacher, and recently he has become somewhat paranoid and even obsessed."

Ron remained silent for a moment.

This is indeed a difficult problem, especially for someone like Alistair who sees reason as the entire meaning of life.

The impact of "logical failure" is far more devastating than any physical injury.

That would mean the very foundation of his existence was shaken, and everything he was so proud of was proven to be unreliable.

However, this involves the internal affairs of the Vinard colony, and even the private feelings between a couple.

As an "outsider," it's really not appropriate for me to interfere too deeply.

"Ms. Ella".

He carefully considered his words:
I understand your concerns.

But to be honest, in this situation, I'm afraid there's not much I can do to help.

“Mr. Alistair’s problem is essentially that he needs to rebuild his cognitive framework.”

"This process can only be completed by him; it is difficult for others to intervene."

Ron's tone was sincere:
"The only advice I can give is perhaps to let him put aside those logical deductions for the time being."

"Do something that requires absolutely no rationality, only instinct."

"for example."

He looked at Ella and smiled:
"Spend time with your family and experience emotions that cannot be explained by logic but are real."

Ella paused for a moment, then her cheeks flushed slightly.

She understood the implication in Ron's words.

"I will try."

The witch lowered her head somewhat embarrassed:
"Thank you, Associate Professor Ron."

"Although you said you couldn't help, just hearing what you said makes me feel much better."

Ron smiled and nodded, without saying anything more.

Some things are best left unsaid.

"Then, see you in three days."

"See you in three days, Associate Professor."

The light from the communication crystal dimmed.

Ron's consciousness returned to the Abyss Palace.

Nari has completed the formation of his clone.

It was a tiny, almost invisible cluster of cells that emitted a faint, dark golden light.

"Honey, everything's ready!"

Nari said excitedly:
"These cells of my mother carry the purest 'motherly' essence!"

"As long as they integrate with those fungi, the fungal strains can become the mother's 'eyes' and 'tentacles'!"

"and"

She added:
“My mother left a few ‘fragments of consciousness’ in these cells.”

"If the fragment does discover the 'Mother's' true form, it will automatically establish a connection with the form and begin a slow energy exchange."

"This process will be very discreet, will not cause any abnormal fluctuations, and will not be discovered by that ruler!"

Ron examined the cluster of cells closely, a look of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

"Now, we just have to wait for them to land on Stoker Star."

………………

three days later.

The Hearthstone Mining Regulatory Board responded faster than Ron had expected.

A letter bearing the temple seal was delivered to the western mining area by a special messenger.

"Your Excellency, this is the official approval from the Oversight Committee."

"At the same time, the High Priest has also taken notice of your project and has issued a special decree..."

"Innovators deserve divine favor; reformers deserve praise."

If this project succeeds, Walker will receive another favor.

Ron accepted the official letter, his face displaying just the right amount of excitement and gratitude:
"Please convey my message to the High Priest: Karen will do everything in her power to live up to God's grace!"

The messenger nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave.

Ron returned to his office and opened the official letter.

The content is concise and clear:
The application for the "Grave Mold Purification Project" has been approved.

[Allocation: 3000 pure gold coins]

[Timeframe: Initial development to be completed within one year; full coverage of mining areas to be achieved within two years]

[Note: This project is listed as a key innovation project in Furnace City and is directly supervised by the Mining Regulatory Committee, which requires quarterly progress reports.]

Everything is proceeding as Ron expected.

He carefully put away the official letter and then issued a series of instructions.

The abandoned warehouse area on the east side of the mining area was quickly requisitioned and transformed.

Dozens of workers, under the supervision of a foreman, cleared the rubble, built isolation wards, and laid ventilation ducts.
In just three days, a "microbial strain cultivation base" of considerable size was erected.

Meanwhile, in the outer space of the stoker planet.

A seemingly ordinary small meteorite is falling toward the planet's surface along a precisely calculated trajectory.

Its outer shell is covered with marks from high-temperature burning, making it indistinguishable from the real space debris around it.

However, beneath this disguise lies a cluster of cells condensed by Nari.

The meteorite pierced through the atmosphere, leaving a fiery trail as it streaked across the night sky.

It landed precisely on a piece of wasteland three kilometers outside the western mining area of ​​the city.

The dust kicked up by the impact quickly subsided, and the meteorite was half-buried in the soil, just like countless other meteorites that have fallen naturally, making it inconspicuous.

The next morning.

A "sample collection team" dispatched by "Karen," led by Bach, went to the wasteland and "coincidentally" discovered the meteorite.

"Your Excellency, we have discovered a newly fallen meteorite in the outer area!"

Bach reported respectfully:
"As per your previous instructions, we collected soil samples from the surrounding area to test for the presence of fungal spores."

"well done."

Karen nodded:
"Send the samples to the cultivation base and begin cultivation immediately."

"Yes!"

Bach accepted the order and left.

Mixed in those "soil samples" were Nari's cell clusters.

When they are sent to the cultivation base and come into contact with native "cemetery mold" collected from deep within the mine,
The integration has begun.

Under the microscope, Nari's cells resembled living vines, rapidly coiling around the hyphae of the mold.

The structures of the two begin to intertwine and recombine, eventually forming a completely new hybrid.

This new strain looks almost exactly like the original strain.

The grayish-white filamentous structure emits a faint phosphorescence in the dark.

However, if you look closely with a high-powered microscope, you will find that inside the hyphae, there are dark golden, fine vein-like patterns flowing.

That was Nari's consciousness flowing, the breath of "Mother" pulsating.

"Success."

Ron stood in front of the observation window of the cultivation base, gazing at the gradually spreading mycelial network in the petri dish.

He could vaguely sense Nari's presence through their bloodline connection.

Those mycelia were like countless tentacles that Nari stretched into the depths of the mine.

"Next, we just need to wait for them to grow, spread, and eventually cover the entire mine tunnel."

"Then, we will be able to see the true face of the 'Mother' fragments."

………………

Everything was progressing steadily when Ron received an urgent notification from the Abyss Observatory:
"Associate Professor Ralph, we have enough people for the Golden Ring assessment!"

"The School Alliance hereby announces that the event will officially begin in three days!"

"Are you... ready?"

Ron nodded slightly.

The plans on the Stoker Star's side still need time to unfold.

The "tomb mold" has successfully taken root, and Nari's consciousness is gradually seeping into the depths of the mine through the mycelial network.

Although rumors have begun to emerge, they have not yet gained momentum.

Everything is still under control.

"We can let go for now."

Ron silently recited it in his mind.

He turned and replied to the communication crystal:
"Ready, Captain Miller."

"I will arrive at the meeting point on time three days from now."

After saying that, he cut off the communication.

Ron then allowed "Ink" to completely take over "Karen's" daily routines.

And it was given detailed instructions for handling the situation:
How to deal with rumors, how to reassure workers, and how to continue advancing the cultivation of microbial strains?
Everything was arranged.

Now, it's time to shift our focus entirely to the Golden Ring assessment.

The real test of life and death is about to begin.

(End of this chapter)