Chapter 449

Chapter 449: Mycelium: An Itchy Scalp…

"Aside from the extraordinary beasts that we can see, the ways in which mycelium life harms humans mainly fall into two categories: spore clouds and biological field corruption."

In front of the former Wager Chemical Factory, now a training base.

This place has been completely transformed into a training camp, and hundreds of veterans are quietly listening to a lecture in a converted classroom.

This is part of their daily training.

Following the principle of "suffer more during training to reduce deaths on the battlefield," Yan Ming established a strictly regimented schedule.

Every day begins at six in the morning and ends at eleven at night. Every minute and every second are packed with activities, all to ensure these veterans learn as much as possible, master more fighting techniques, and improve their chances of survival in the upcoming battles.

Despite the training intensity surpassing that of the military, the returning veterans have not complained much, as they can clearly feel their bodies improving.

Most of the veterans are between the ages of thirty and fifty; those over fifty are a bit too old, while those under thirty are hardly considered veterans.

Their bodily functions have long surpassed their peak, yet their combat experience is substantial.

This is exactly what Lin Qingliu hoped for; after each battle, a soldier’s survival rate tends to increase. That is why he specifically asked Yan Ming and Zhuang Mian to choose these qualified individuals to join his plan.

As for the issue of physical capabilities…

After undergoing the entrance examination, each soldier receives a capsule in the morning and evening. The researcher responsible for distribution claims this is the latest achievement from the research institutes and that, in conjunction with the physical training arranged by professional instructors, it can slowly repair the organs that have begun to decline.

Of course, this is a kind-hearted lie; the capsules are filled with heaps of starch from the production line.

What truly aids in the soldiers’ physical recovery is Lin Qingliu.

Yes, this man at the top of Hope City ultimately used anonymous methods to enhance the soldiers.

The specific method involves standing in the middle of the training camp dormitory each night and using his abilities to strengthen these veterans’ bodies, in a simple yet tedious manner.

As for where the life force he expends comes from?

Recently, the mycelium areas outside Hope City have been displaying rapidly withered circles, which, from the sky, look as evident as bald patches on a lush head of hair.

This is, of course, Lin Qingliu’s doing. Every night, he speeds through the area, teleporting short distances directly into the mycelium-controlled zones and swiftly draining the life force from patches of land, returning to his nest with the energy like a bird bringing food back to feed its young.

His speed of movement and absorption is astonishingly fast, causing the mycelium to perish before its main consciousness can receive the warning of an enemy attack.

For such losses, although the mycelium consciousness does not know who is responsible, it has formed basic conjectures—

Such a sword mound would be hard to find among nearly ten million humans.

Unfortunately, while Lin Qingliu is an extremely powerful individual and the mycelium consciousness has difficulty tracking his movements, the range of the mycelium consciousness is boundless and does not care about losing a few "hairs." As a result, neither side experiences significant conflict.

In fact, Lin Qingliu has another mindset driving these actions: to draw the lottery.

After killing a newborn consciousness, Lin Qingliu became certain that the mycelium consciousness had hidden the remaining human brains.

However, he could not determine their specific locations, so he views absorbing life force as a lottery; if there happen to be enslaved human brains in the area, he can conveniently help these technically already dead individuals find release.

Unfortunately, thousands of brains are virtually negligible compared to the vast mycelium mat, and Lin Qingliu has kept to his daily lottery habit for nearly two months without hitting the jackpot.

As for the situation in Hope City, rather than tell the soldiers that they are benefiting from something akin to the Speaker bestowing a blessing, Lin Qingliu prefers that they believe their physical improvement comes from the efforts of their fellow researchers and their own relentless training.

At least this avoids the emergence of blind worship; he hopes these soldiers truly believe in the concept of humanity itself rather than some specific individual.

With this continuous strengthening, time has reached early May in the new era of 53, which is now.

"Who can answer the basic regulations to prevent biological field corruption?"

Yan Ming pointed to the content on the PPT with a laser pointer and cast his gaze toward the veterans below.

Being a coach, or teacher, is certainly a demanding job.

But compared to the emergencies that can arise at any time over 24 hours, the work intensity of a coach is practically a vacation for Yan Ming.

After two months, his complexion has visibly improved; although he hasn’t activated his abilities, the redness of his fingertips and lips is nearly indistinguishable from that of a normal person.

And the blood in his body has recently been exceptionally vibrant; Yan Ming can even feel that his physical prowess has improved to some extent.

However, the most frustrating part of this job is that the soldiers below, while not illiterate and capable of writing and calculating, really struggle to pay attention in class.

As he scanned the crowd, those veterans with graying temples began to analyze why the table was, in fact, a table.

Yan Ming focused on the roster, searching for a suitable person:

"Liu Xiaoheng."

"Present."

A man, not particularly tall but very muscular, stood up with a face ashen as though he had seen a ghost.

To be honest, he would prefer to run a couple of laps. Recently, his recovery has indeed been excellent, even better than during his peak ten years ago.

But why hasn’t his brain returned to its peak?

Liu Xiaoheng sometimes pondered this question, although he didn’t consider that his mental capabilities might have always been at this level.

But now is not the time for such thoughts; the deadly gaze of Instructor Yan Ming has turned to him.

This is not something he can easily brush off, as this person’s real identity has spread privately throughout the camp:

The "Blood Puppet" has probably killed enough extraordinary beasts to fill the entire chemical factory;

The "Commissioner" has eliminated enough factory pests to fill this large classroom;

Although the "Instructor" has never resorted to actual fighting, even unarmed, everyone here has fallen to him.

Damn it, I can’t think any longer.

Liu Xiaoheng despised his brain for drifting into irrelevant thoughts at crucial moments, and beads of sweat began to gather on his forehead.