Dual Transmigration: Starting from being captured and brought to the Hehuan Sect!

The sentry responded and led Lin Mo through the heavy steel door into a simple but fairly clean rest room.

The room contained only a metal bunk bed, a folding table, and two chairs.

Lin Mo sat down in the chair and began to plan for the afternoon briefing.

Missions that offer secondary gene serums as a reward for all members, and intermediate and advanced gene serums as special rewards, are definitely not low in danger.

However, his current strength at the eighth level of the acquired realm is already considered to be among the top tier in this world. Even if he encounters an SSS-level top-tier mutant or is surrounded by a large-scale zombie horde, he can escape using the system.

Thinking of this, he took out a bottle of iced cola from his spatial storage, leaned back in his chair, and started drinking.

In the afternoon, Lin Mo was taken to the conference room.

The moment I pushed open the door, a sweltering stench of sweat and engine oil hit me.

He glanced around and saw that about twenty or thirty people were already seated. Some were wearing military uniforms, some were wearing civilian clothes, and a few were wearing homemade leather armor. Their weapons ranged from automatic rifles to modified machetes.

The auras of the two were not weak. The bald, burly man in the front row was breathing as steadily as a lurking bear, while the tall, thin man on the right, leaning against the wall, kept tapping the hilt of his knife with a fast and even rhythm, clearly a speed-type mutant.

They're all after the gene-editing drug.

His gaze lingered on the stage.

An elderly man with gray hair was bending over to adjust the projector, his movements clumsy, and he almost ripped the connecting cable off several times.

When he straightened up and adjusted his reading glasses, Lin Mo was slightly taken aback.

Wang Gengsheng.

He looked exactly like the chemistry guru he knew in his main world, even down to the way he adjusted his glasses.

Lin Mo sat down in the back row by the window, a very faint smile appearing on his lips.

This was the third familiar face he had encountered in World Two.

Wang Gengsheng walked to the center of the podium, cleared his throat, and a blurry satellite map popped up on the projection screen behind him, marking an industrial area located in the northwest.

He drew a circle in that area with a laser pointer and got straight to the point:

"Gentlemen, to make a long story short, I'll get straight to the point!"

The target of this mission is the nuclear warhead production base, specifically the uranium enrichment micro-nano centrifuges in the core area of ​​the base. There are three of them there, and your mission is to bring them out as many as possible.

This equipment is a core component essential for the production of advanced gene-based pharmaceuticals in our safe zone. Without it, advanced gene-based pharmaceuticals cannot be produced.

A low murmur arose from the audience.

A female mutant with a ponytail sitting in front of Lin Mo raised her hand and asked a question that everyone wanted to ask:

"Old Wang, the nuclear warhead production base..."

Could there be a nuclear leak in that area?

Just as Wang Gengsheng was about to speak, a middle-aged man wearing black-rimmed glasses stood up and took over the conversation:

"I am Dr. Qin, the deputy director of the Institute of Gene Drugs."

There will be some nuclear leakage, but not much.

The base's security measures were intact before the apocalypse, and the reactor was shut down and sealed according to standard procedures. The radiation leak mainly came from a small amount of improperly stored waste.

It's only been a little over a year since the apocalypse, so the degree of radiation attenuation is limited but still within a controllable range.

Moreover, all those involved in this mission were mutants, and the low dose of radiation had a negligible effect on them.

For an ordinary person, protective measures might be necessary, but for a mutant, it's like being exposed to the sun for a little longer.

There was a moment of silence in the audience, followed by a few sighs of relief.

But the female mutant with the ponytail was still whispering something to her companion, and the bald, burly man in the front row was also frowning. Obviously, Dr. Qin's explanation had not completely dispelled everyone's doubts, but at least it had suppressed the fear of most people.

Lin Mo leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the blurry satellite map, a thought forming in his mind:

"A nuclear warhead production base, so it must have nuclear weapons, right?"

The briefing ended after Wang Gengsheng announced the start of registration.

After the burly men and mutants in the front row finished registering and left the conference room one after another, Lin Mo slowly walked to the registration table at the door.

A crumpled register lay open on the table, and next to it sat a bespectacled female clerk, idly twirling a pen.

Lin Mo picked up a pen and filled in each column of the register.

The name, gender, and age are all real information.

When he got to the "mutation level" column, he hesitated for a moment, then picked up his pen and filled in "level A".

His strength at the eighth level of the day after tomorrow is equivalent to around SS level, but he doesn't want to reveal all his trump cards right away.

A-level is qualified to participate in the mission, but not too conspicuous, just right.

The female clerk took the register, glanced at it, and said casually:

"Meet at the training ground first thing tomorrow morning for parachute training and equipment distribution."

"good!"

Lin Mo left the conference room and followed a soldier with a duty armband on his sleeve through several corridors, where he was led into a small lounge.

It was still the same iron-framed bed, folding table, and chair. The only difference was that an old-fashioned fan was whirring in the corner, its blades covered with a thick layer of dust.

Lin Mo didn't complain and sat down by the bed.

The next morning, about thirty people gathered on the playground, standing in twos and threes in the morning light, yawning incessantly.

An instructor in camouflage strode to the front of the formation, holding a megaphone, his voice hoarse:

Listen up, all of you!

You only have one task this morning.

Learn to skydive!

Parachute donning, in-flight attitude, directional control, and landing rolls—you have to pass every single one of them!

Anyone who doesn't perform the actions correctly this afternoon shouldn't be boarding the plane. Don't blame me for not warning you!

He had a bunch of parachutes pushed to the front of the line, gave each person a set, and then had everyone take turns practicing their maneuvers on a makeshift parachute simulator.

Lin Mo stood in the middle of the line, watching the several strong men in front of him clumsily struggling on the rack. Some of them fastened the wrong buckles, and some landed with their knees hitting the ground hard, wincing in pain and getting scolded by the instructor.

When it was his turn, he walked forward unhurriedly, put on his parachute, checked the buckles, jumped down, spread his arms, adjusted his posture, and landed and rolled. The whole set of movements was smooth and fluid, without the slightest hesitation.