Weird Rules Rumor: At The Beginning, He Insisted That He Was Not Dead-Chapter 106: Genetic Tower (5)
“Doctor Bai, you’ve finally arrived!”
As Bai Lian entered, an elderly man with sharp, intelligent features approached, holding a container. “Have you reviewed the Specimen No. 16 report?”
Bai Lian nodded. “Yes, on the way. What’s the issue?”
The man frowned, visibly concerned. “The latest trial’s results deviated from previous experiments. I suspect reagent ratios were miscalculated. Since you and Professor Lin Ya led this project, we didn’t dare proceed without you.” fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
“Apologies for disturbing your free time.”
“No trouble.” Bai Lian shook his head. “Shall we begin?”
“Of course!” The man brightened. “But there’s another matter.”
Bai Lian tensed. This old man speaks coherently—did my 【Pig Brain Overload】 skill fail? It should affect both Anomalies and players upon eye contact. Is he blind?
Uncertain, he gestured for the man to continue.
The elder raised the container. “Doctor Bai, to fill this 1,000-milliliter container, how much reagent is required?”
Bai Lian blinked. “Uh… 1,000 milliliters?”
“Ah! So 1,000 milliliters fills a 1,000-milliliter container! This question plagued me, yet you solved it instantly—truly brilliant!” The man marveled, eyes shining.
The skill’s working. He’s fully affected. Bai Lian stifled a sigh.
“Excellent! I’ll prepare the reagents—no room for error now!” The elder hurried off, calling to others: “Doctor Bai’s here! Begin the experiment immediately. Consult him for any issues. This trial is critical!”
Researchers buzzed with renewed vigor.
“Doctor Bai! A question!” A researcher at a computer waved, phone connected via cable. “If I unplug both ends during a file transfer, does the data stay in the cable?”
Bai Lian paused. “Try it. If it fails, just retransfer. Trial and error reveals truth.”
“Understood! ‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step,’ as they say!”
Not exactly… Bai Lian nodded curtly.
The lab hummed with activity—data analysis, solution preparation. Bai Lian drifted between stations, fielding absurd queries until prepwork concluded.
Green liquid filled a syringe. At the room’s center lay an eight-legged creature strapped to a table, its exposed heart pulsing black blood.
“Doctor Bai, you must administer the injection,” the elder urged, offering the syringe. “Previous attempts caused… incidents. Your expertise is vital.”
“Not afraid of death, huh?” Bai Lian eyed the syringe. “Even a dog wouldn’t buy that lie.”
As researchers stared expectantly, Bai Lian set the syringe down.
“Why the delay?” the elder cried.
“This experiment’s pointless. We should address the real issue—” Bai Lian stroked his chin solemnly “—the ideal mixture for Grade 42 concrete!”
The room froze.
Then the elder gasped. “Of course! Improper screw lengths affect excavator torque, generating high-energy proteins—UFOs!—harming both economy and ecology!”
“We must prevent Pacific Ocean contamination and charger malfunctions to avoid nuclear fallout!”
Like a burst dam, the researchers erupted:
“Grade 42 concrete ensures postpartum paste care! Subtropical monsoons disrupt lab-grown hens’ egg production, raising Abe cross-section radiation levels—Pythagorean theorem survival rates demand it!”
“Frying noodles requires brightness adjustments! Screw rotation emits carbon dioxide—”
Idiots. Bai Lian edged backward, rifling through filing cabinets until he found Specimen 16’s dossier in a bottom drawer.
As he tucked the documents away, a bespectacled woman grabbed his arm.
“Doctor Bai—where are you going?”
