dmims Chapter 98 Window Period
Chapter 98 Window Period
Chapter 98 Window Period
Rowe used the tip of his dagger to pry open the crack.
The grayish-brown wheat grains inside were exposed.
Its outer shell is as hard as granite, but its internal endosperm is extremely plump.
According to Father Alpha's recent slice analysis, this mutant wheat grain has twelve times the protein content of standard Terra wheat and an extremely high starch density.
In addition, it contains high-energy biomass derived from Teren Gene.
As long as we can peel off this siliconized shell.
Separate the toxins from it.
This is the military ration with the highest calorific value in the entire empire!
Of course, it couldn't compare to the special rations provided by Astartes.
But that's for demigods.
The metabolism of those giants, like a burning furnace, requires high-energy synthetic paste.
If an ordinary soldier dared to sneak a bite, the raging nutrients would burn through their kidneys like lava, causing their metabolic system to collapse instantly.
Lovi does not need to produce food for demigods.
All he needed to do was feed the Oglins and Star Guardians soldiers in the trenches.
At this level, the stats of "Grey Mule 1" are simply perfect.
The cost of "Grey Mule 1" was outrageously low.
The fertilizer was a highly toxic waste liquid that someone else paid for to deliver.
The seeds are deformed offspring induced by radiation.
The only cost is how to get them out of the ground.
Lowe tossed the grain of wheat back into the field and pondered, "If a regular combine harvester went in, the blades would shatter within three minutes, and the drive shaft would break within ten minutes."
"This isn't farm work, this is mining."
The harvesting window is only 72 hours.
If the harvest cannot be completed within these three days, these unstable mutated crops will undergo secondary mutations due to over-ripening, and the core toxins will become completely solidified.
The entire field will be turned into a pile of worthless, highly toxic waste rock.
That was a bad debt that he absolutely could not accept.
Afterwards, Lowe went to the deepest part of the seventh repair workshop.
The arc light from the electric welding kept flashing.
Father Alpha hovered in front of a colossal machine, with several mechanical tentacles behind him assisting a dozen or so machine servants in the final assembly work.
This is an M36 "Redeemer" combine harvester.
To be precise, it used to be.
Now, this machine, which was originally painted in agricultural green, has been painted in a somber industrial black.
The rotating sickle assembly, originally used for cutting straw, was completely dismantled.
A set of chainsaws covered with diamond teeth was installed, which looked quite ferocious.
These are heavy components removed from a mining excavator.
The excited Father Alpha noticed Rowe walking in and lamented, "This is practically putting the machine soul under extreme pressure."
"Advisor, in order to power this mining-grade cutting module, I had to shut off the original safety valve, putting the engine at 140% overclocking speed, which resulted in fuel consumption being three times the normal level."
"This machine probably won't last until this harvest."
Upon hearing this, Rowe tapped on the extra layer of armor plating welded shut outside the cockpit: it had been removed from a scrapped Chimera troop carrier.
Bullet marks still remain on it.
Then, Lowe calmly said, "The machine's lifespan is the cost, and the grain output is the profit. As long as the profit covers the cost, it's worthwhile even if this machine burns to scrap metal. Father, is the breaker at the feed inlet properly adjusted?"
"The debugging is complete, and a hydraulic breaker has been installed."
Father Alpha manipulated a tentacle, pointing it towards the harvester's swallow opening.
"The moment the wheat ears are drawn in, they are struck by a heavy hammer to break the husks, preventing the entire stone from jamming the threshing drum."
.
The priest paused, then looked up at the newly installed positive pressure filtration system above the cockpit.
"In addition, as you requested, the cockpit is fully enclosed with a higher internal air pressure than the outside. This is to prevent splashed juices and toxic gases from seeping in during cutting."
"Very good." Rowe nodded. "Also, when you apply holy oil to the chainsaw, remember to mix in a high concentration of strong industrial alkali."
The priest asked, "To neutralize the acidity?"
"certainly."
As he spoke, Luo Wei looked at the row of diamond serrations that gleamed with a cold light.
"Grey Mule-1 is not only hard, but beneath its silicified outer shell flows a high concentration of acidic neurotoxins."
"Once they're cut, they'll spit venom like wounded snakes. I don't want to see this expensive chainsaw corroded into a pile of scrap metal in half an hour."
"Praise be to Om Messiah, this was a truly mad mass."
The priest murmured to himself, then turned and threw himself into even more frantic adjustments.
Eight o'clock in the morning, pre-battle mobilization room.
A map of Experimental Field A-3 is laid out on the table.
The surface was covered with red markers, filled with attack arrows.
Defense Force Commander Buck was wiping his explosive rifle at the table.
Old John, the logistics supervisor, was counting the number of hazmat suits.
The atmosphere was a bit strange.
For these men, who were used to fighting in the wasteland, this was the first time they had felt so nervous about a field of crops.
"Boss, I still don't quite understand."
Buck reset the bolt.
Next, the weapons list was laid out, which listed:
Flamethrowers, heavy explosive shells, and two mortars.
All of these were prepared at Lo Wei's request.
He asked in bewilderment, "We're going to harvest wheat, not fight the Tyranids. Do we really need to set up all these heavy explosives? If word gets out, the other grain depots will think we've gone mad."
Luo Wei, seated in the main seat, held a cup of synthetic coffee in his hand.
He pulled a chipped dagger from his pocket and threw it on the table.
Clang.
The dagger spun a few times on the table before stopping in front of Buck.
"Take a look at this," Luo Wei said casually.
Buck picked up the dagger, a look of surprise flashing in his one eye: "This... you cut through the armor plate?"
"We cut down a stalk of wheat," Rowe said.
The conference room fell silent for a moment.
Lo Wei put down his coffee cup, picked up his pointer, stood up, and tapped it on the gray area of the map.
"Buck, put away your contempt."
"Our adversaries are not docile plants. They are a group of monsters who have evolved into rocks and venomous snakes in order to survive in highly toxic soil."
Luo Wei's expression turned cold.
"Grey Mule No. 1" incorporates genes from Tyrell; they exhibit phototaxis and stress response. Their root systems, extending three meters underground, grip the soil like steel cables.
"Once the chainsaw cuts through, their roots, due to the intense pain and stress response, will lash out like whips at everything around them."
"The sprayed sap can corrode bulletproof vests, and the released spores can cause pulmonary fibrosis."
After a pause, Luo Wei put down his teaching pointer.
"If you don't want your men to end up in machines and turn into fertilizer, you'd better be on your guard."
"At that time, your fully armed defense force will enter the field in harvesters. This is not just harvesting, but a campaign to eradicate the alien plants."
Buck's Adam's apple bobbed, and his playful smile vanished.
He placed the dagger back on the table, stood at attention, and saluted: "Understood, boss. Prepare according to wartime standards."
Lowe waved his hand. "Old John."
"Yes, supervisor."
Old John responded quickly.
Have the "synthetic nutritional pastes" been distributed?
"It's all been distributed. As you instructed, using the Grade A fertilizer brought back from the northern granary," it was fed into the pulverizer and mixed with 30% sawdust, fungal powder, and corpse starch at a ratio of 1:20 —"
Old John swallowed hard, as if still savoring the memory.
"It does taste like chewing wax, but it's definitely high in calories. The workers are ravenous from eating it. Morale is high now, and everyone's waiting to get to work."
Lo Wei nodded.
This is the effect he wanted.
In the eyes of the laborers, food was the only hard currency and their only faith.
If you give them a full meal, even if it's just a gruel made from corpses and sawdust, they'd be willing to go to hell for you.
"very good."
Luo Wei took out a brass pocket watch from his pocket and said sternly, "Pass the word down: First team, prepare to warm up the modified harvesters."
"Second team, flamethrower operators in position."
"The third echelon, bagging workers in hazmat suits, are waiting in the rear."
"Operation begins!"
Nine o'clock in the morning.
The acid mist gradually dissipated from the periphery of the A-3 experimental field.
The silence was broken by the tremors of the earth.
Twelve heavily modified "Redeemer" harvesters, lined up in a single file, roared out from behind the bunker.
They no longer resemble agricultural machinery, but rather siege vehicles in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
The black armor plates were coated with holy oil and an anti-corrosion coating.
A giant diamond chainsaw spun at high speed on the front of the vehicle, emitting a heart-stopping shriek.
Behind them were two hundred fully armed defense soldiers.
They carried fuel canisters for flamethrowers on their backs, held laser guns in their hands, and had tense expressions, as if they were about to face a massive army.
At the very back of the procession was an even larger, shadowy vehicle.
Chimera 1, "The Wall of Gluttony".
This biomass-integrated combat vehicle sat quietly on the command hill.
The compound eyes on the front of the vehicle slowly turned, and the newly grown purple crystalline armor shimmered with an eerie light in the sunlight.
It was Rowe's last insurance policy.
If this wheat field, infused with Tyrannosaurus genes, were to experience a mass slaughter, it would trigger a collective biological stress response and psionic resonance.
Therefore, only this chariot with "psychic insulation" properties, acting as a mobile "psychic black hole," can sever the spiritual connection between the plants and quell the situation.
Rowe sat in the Chimera's command cabin, overlooking the entire battlefield through the monitor.
"First team, enter the field."
At Luo Wei's command, the twelve steel monsters roared simultaneously.
The engine spewed black smoke, and the tracks crushed the hard, salty ground.
The diamond chainsaw slashed fiercely into the gray-white stone forest.
"Zzz."
A sharp sound immediately echoed across the entire field.
That sound isn't from harvesting wheat, it's like cutting steel plates!
Mars erupted, sending up plumes of smoke and dust.
Just as Rowe had predicted, the wheat field came to life.
When the first row of wheat stalks was sawed off, the surrounding wheat crops felt the death of their kind.
The previously still stem began to tremble violently.
The roots buried underground, convulsing from the intense pain, burst forth from the soil, resembling thick gray snakes, frantically lashing at the bottom of the harvester.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The roots lashed against the armor plating, producing a continuous series of muffled thuds.
If it weren't for the armor installed beforehand, the harvester would have been completely paralyzed by these roots, entangled in the tracks.