svetikya Chapter 99 Destruction
Chapter 99 Destruction
Chapter 99 Destruction (Bonus Chapter)
"Warning, venom spray!"
Buck yelled into the communications channel.
From the cut ends of the stalks, streams of yellowish-green acid mist sprayed out, like high-pressure water guns.
Acid mist sprayed onto the positive pressure glass of the harvester, producing a sizzling corrosion sound, followed by white smoke.
"Second team, get the fire going!"
The flamethrower operators, who had been waiting in line, quickly moved forward.
Several fire dragons roared out.
It precisely covered the area behind the harvester, covering the churning roots and acid mist.
The high temperature instantly evaporated the venom, burning the frantically convulsing roots to ashes.
"Advance, maintain formation, and don't stop!"
Lowe calmly gave the order over the communication channel.
The harvester roared as it continued forward.
Behind the harvester, the discharge port spews out grayish-brown particles that look like gravel.
They slammed into the receiving hopper, making a loud, clattering sound, heavy and dense.
The third group of laborers, dressed in heavy protective suits, worked in pairs, dragging heavy woven bags lined with lead, and rushed forward to receive the materials.
"Why is it so heavy!"
A worker gritted his teeth and, together with his companion, lifted half a sack of wheat.
This half-bag of wheat weighs as much as three large bags used to.
This is highly compressed energy, a miracle transformed from industrial waste.
Lowe watched the screen.
The data sent from the Case server in real time kept fluctuating.
Fuel consumption rate: 320%
Tool wear rate: 15%/hour
[Estimated harvest completion time: 68 hours]
Current output: 2800 kg per mu (standard conversion)
Luo Wei smiled calmly.
2800 kg per mu.
This is more than ten times the yield of ordinary wheat.
Although this cost a fortune in fuel, wore out sophisticated equipment, and required the deployment of the military.
But once you look at the output figures, all the costs become insignificant.
On the books, this was a very good deal.
Because his planting costs are almost zero.
He used industrial waste to obtain enough high-energy military rations to feed half of the war zone.
Just then, Father Alpha's slightly panicked shout came through the communication channel.
"Advisor, the chainsaw on vehicle number 6 is overheating and stuck!"
"There's a particularly large 'gray mule' whose roots are tangled in the drive shaft!"
Lo Wei quickly switched the scene.
Harvester No. 6, which was in the middle of the formation, stopped.
The engine roared in pain, billowing thick black smoke.
In front of it, there was a deformed giant crop.
Its stem is as thick as a thigh and is a deep blackish-purple color. Its surrounding roots, like those of an octopus, entangle the front of the harvester, trying to squeeze into the gaps in its armor.
This is an "elite monster" that has undergone two mutations.
It absorbed excessive amounts of chromium residue from the waste liquid, turning into an unstable bomb.
"Get the driver out of here!" Lowe made the decision immediately.
"What about the machine?"
"Machines are assets, and people are assets. But right now, what we need is efficiency."
Rowe's finger hovered over the weapon control panel.
"Buck, get your heavy bomb crew ready. Target: the black plant monster in front of vehicle number 6!"
"clear!"
A few seconds later, the deep, muffled roar of a heavy bomb echoed from the distant high ground.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
A large-caliber high-explosive warhead hurtled in.
The bombardment was precisely aimed at the roots of the mutated crop.
The explosion engulfed everything in an instant, sweeping away all the obstacles in front of vehicle number 6.
The plant, as hard as iron, shattered in the explosion, its sap splattering everywhere.
"Take out car number 6, replace the spare cutter head, and continue operation!" Luo Wei coldly ordered. "Don't let the production line stop."
Harvesting continues.
No one felt sorry for the damaged machine.
Even Father Alpha, who considered the machine's soul his life, didn't give it much attention. He simply calmly recorded the new attrition rate on the data panel.
Of course, no one would be amazed by that terrifying plant.
Here, both sophisticated machinery and desecrated life are merely variables in the production process.
All the sacrifices, destruction, and madness will ultimately be condensed into a single meaningful number:
The tonnage of the tithe.
It was evening.
The first day's harvesting task was barely completed.
In experimental field A-3, a corner was eaten away by twelve harvesters, revealing a patch of scorched, churning earth.
Inside the warehouse, piles of gray woven bags were neatly stacked, each one heavy.
Lowe stepped off Chimera No. 1 and removed his hazmat mask.
I took a deep breath of the polluted air to help my lungs adjust to the poor air quality.
He walked up to an open bag, picked up a grain of wheat, and examined it closely in the dim light of the setting sun.
Inside this gray "pebble," a faint golden light seems to emanate.
That's high-energy starch locked under a highly toxic shell.
It is the essence of waste liquid.
It is also the only hard currency in this desperate world.
"Boss."
Buck walked over, his face covered in grease, carrying a half-empty bottle of cheap liquor.
His hazmat suit was covered with spots of acid corrosion, making him look disheveled, but his single eye gleamed with excitement.
"This job is fucking exhausting, more exhausting than fighting those rotten rotten bastards of the plague," Buck said with a grin after taking a swig of his drink. "But looking at these bags, I feel at ease."
"Yes, it feels reassuring."
Lowe threw the wheat grains back into the bag and dusted off his hands.
"Don't let your guard down, Buck, this is just the beginning."
"After the harvest is complete, we'll have to transport these 'stones' to the northern granary."
"Let Butcher Bill" perform ultra-high pressure crushing and deep detoxification, and finally press it into hard military ration biscuits —
Lowe paused, his gaze passing over Buck and landing on the depths of the wheat field gradually being swallowed by darkness.
"However, that's something to do after the assets are liquidated. The priority now is to get the wheat out of the ground."
The last, pale rays of the setting sun were swallowed up by the thick acid smog.
Darkness surged in from all directions like a tide, trying to engulf everything.
The temperature began to drop sharply, and the wind carried a biting chill.
In the distance, the engine sounds of several harvesters began to grow somewhat muffled.
The flames spewing from the exhaust pipe also began to pant intermittently.
"Boss, Father Alpha just complained in the communications that the hydraulic systems of Units 3 and 5 are overheating and suggested shutting them down for two hours to cool them down."
Lowell glanced at the brass pocket watch.
In his computational model, this is not an excuse for halting work.
"Rejected." Luo Wei's command was concise and cold.
"Pass down the order to start the backup generators. Set up all the high-lumen searchlights in stock."
"We'll implement a rolling shift system. People can take turns taking a nap and having a hot soup, but the machines can't stop, the chainsaws can't stop."
Buck glanced at the machines emitting white smoke and asked with some concern, "What if the machines break down?"
"If it breaks, I fix it; if it can't be fixed, I replace it. In my ledger, the red entries for repair costs look much better than the black entries for defaulting on tithes."
"and----"
Luo Wei suddenly stopped talking.
He instinctively pressed his hand to his chest.
There, close to his body, lay fragments of a grime-absorbing amulet, held between two layers of lead plates.
Just now, this long-dormant fragment of the amulet emitted a faint warmth through the thick lead layer.
The heat was very slight and fleeting.
In the past, Loewe might have ignored it.
But at the crucial moment of harvest, on the eve of the grain being stored.
Any abnormal fluctuation would be magnified into a red alert in his eyes.
Luo Wei narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp, and slowly swept over the figures of the repairmen who were busy in the shadows in the distance, adding lubricating oil to the harvesters.
"Tonight's night will be very long."
Luo Wei lowered his voice, his tone carrying a chilling undertone.
"Some people, or rather some things, may not want to see tomorrow's sun shine on this pile of grain."
"Buck, increase security. Shoot any unauthorized personnel near the machine."
"yes!"
Buck accepted the order with a stern expression and placed his hand on the gun handle.
At Luo Wei's command, several blinding white beams of light tore through the night.
The roar resumed.
Twelve steel behemoths, dragging their weary bodies, roared as they charged into the wheat fields in the night.
Three o'clock in the morning.
Experimental field A-3.
Luo Wei, who was on the command hill, wrapped his hazmat suit tightly around himself.
The night wind, carrying corrosive industrial dust, scraped against the goggles, making a soft, rustling sound.
He glanced down at the brass pocket watch in his hand; the second hand ticked mechanically.
-
Every jump represents an increase in cost and a reduction in the lifespan of the machinery.
"Unit 8 has stopped."
Father Alpha, who was standing beside him, suddenly reported.
Luo Wei hurriedly looked into the distance.
The once roaring No. 8 harvester was now stuck in mid-air with its chainsaw assembly jammed, its engine whirring and billowing black smoke.
Luo Wei rushed over.
Beside machine number eight, several workers were kneeling on the ground in terror, trembling.
The mechanics team has just removed the cover of the transmission box.
A stench hit me.
But it didn't smell like engine oil; it smelled more like the stench of a rotting corpse.
Father Alpha extended his mechanical tentacles and dipped a small amount of viscous, yellowish-green liquid from the broken cut in the drive shaft.
"This is not physical wear and tear."
The priest's righteous eyes flashed red continuously.
He brought the liquid close to the sensor, then let out a low growl filled with disgust: "This is blasphemy, Advisor. Highly corrosive plague pus mixed with metal fatigue inducers. Someone tampered with the lubrication tank."
Upon hearing this, Luo Wei stepped forward.
By the light of the searchlight, they could see the three-ring runes deep within the gears, smeared with excrement and rust.
The mark of filth.
This is not a malfunction.
This was a meticulously planned act of sabotage.
The goal is to scrap this expensive machine, halt the harvesting process, and paralyze the entire production line.
"Who's in charge of this group's oil filling?" Lowe turned around, his gaze sweeping over the laborers kneeling on the ground.
No one spoke.
Fear sealed their mouths like glue.
Buck strode forward and grabbed the leading mechanic.
The man's eyes darted away.
There was a patch of skin on the neck that had an unnatural grayish-brown color, with ulcerated pustules faintly visible.
"Take off his shirt," Buck ordered.
Two soldiers roughly tore the man's work clothes.
On that man's withered chest, the blasphemous three-ring rune was clearly engraved.
The wound had become infected and was oozing the same yellowish-green liquid as that inside the machine.