rpbooks Chapter 165 Professor, Rogue, and Indescribable Fungus
Chapter 165 Professor, Rogue, and Indescribable Fungus
In the western suburbs of Changxiang City, a yellow warning line has been erected in front of the abandoned coal mine that has just changed hands.
Several SUVs marked "Geological Exploration" were parked imposingly in the middle of the road, and a few people in gray uniforms and gold-rimmed glasses were pointing at the dark wellhead with instruments.
The leader was an old man with a Mediterranean hairstyle, surnamed Yan, named Yan Jin.
As his name suggests, he looks like a punctuation mark—rigid, serious, with glasses on his nose as thick as the bottom of a beer bottle.
He is a professor at the provincial geological university and a well-known "resource conservationist"—of course, rumors say he is even more adept at incorporating other people's resources into his own research group.
Wang Minyu's Wuling Hongguang, which made noise everywhere except for the horn, was parked outside the police line.
"What are you doing? Didn't you see the road is blocked?" A young graduate student walked over, looking impatient, and reached out to stop him.
Wang Minyu rolled down the car window, but didn't get out. He just stuck his head out, a slick smile typical of small business owners in rural towns on his face: "Oh, sir, I'm the contractor for this land. I heard there's treasure underground, so I've come to see if I can dig up some coal ash to sell."
The student sized up Wang Minyu, then looked at the foreign old man (Pierre) in the back seat who was holding a thermos and had a lewd look on his face, and the big, dumb guy (Guan Shan) in the passenger seat who was as strong as a bear. The contempt in his eyes deepened.
"Coal slag? Do you think you can mess around in there?" the student scoffed. "Professor Yan said that extremely rare biomagnetic field fluctuations have been detected here, suspected to be a special geological layer left over from the Cretaceous period. This place is now requisitioned for national scientific research, so all irrelevant people should get lost."
Wang Minyu raised an eyebrow.
Cretaceous? These scholars are far better at making up lies than Tu Jinshan.
If the underground period is the Cretaceous period, then wouldn't "Zero" be the ancestor of the dinosaurs?
At this moment, Professor Yan walked over.
He stood with his hands behind his back, exuding an air of superiority, his gaze sweeping over Wang Minyu as if he were looking at a piece of rotten wood.
"Young man, don't always think about money," Professor Yan said earnestly, but his tone was condescending. "Scientific research is serious. Every single rock here could rewrite geology textbooks. Your actions of destroying the environment for petty gains are criminal."
Wang Minyu got out of the car, leaned against the door, and lit a cigarette (he didn't smoke it, just held it in his hand to smell it): "Professor Yan, right? I believe you when you say there's scientific research value down here. But it's unreasonable for you to say you won't let me in. This land belongs to the Wang family now, it's all in black and white with an official seal, I can farm in there if I want."
"Farming?" Professor Yan exclaimed as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. "Farming in this barren mine? What would you grow? Rocks?"
"Growing mushrooms." Wang Minyu pointed to the well opening that was still emitting cold air. "Specialty mushrooms. Specially formulated to cure people like you... who think too much, do too little, and whose brains get hot easily."
Professor Yan's face darkened: "Incomprehensible! Let me tell you, I've already applied for an emergency executive order, which will be issued tomorrow. Until then, no one is allowed to go down the mine!"
"Okay, whatever you say." Wang Minyu didn't argue. Instead, he threw down his cigarette and stomped it out. "Then we'll watch your performance from here. But Professor, just a friendly reminder, those mushrooms down there aren't very good-tempered. They don't like being poked with a drill. If you really want to go down, you'd better bring some antidepressants."
Professor Yan sneered, turned around, and waved his hand: "Prepare the equipment! Deploy detector number one!"
A sophisticated-looking drilling robot was slowly lowered into the wellhead by a sling.
The screen on the control panel lit up, showing a live feed from downhole.
At first, everything was normal. As the depth increased, snowflakes began to appear in the image.
"Depth 2800 meters, temperature is dropping abnormally..." the operator reported.
"Continue!" Professor Yan stared at the screen, his eyes gleaming with greed.
He had already learned through internal channels that there might be a brand new energy mineral here, and as long as he got a sample, his chances of being elected as an academician next year were secure.
Suddenly, the image on the screen jumped.
That wasn't a rock. It was a huge, bloodshot...eye.
Those were giant bacteria that grew on the rock face, and they "opened" under the stimulation of strong light.
"Sizzle—"
A very sharp noise came from the speaker; it was some kind of high-frequency sound wave.
Immediately afterwards, the sturdy drilling robot seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand, and its alloy shell emitted a teeth-grinding twisting sound.
"What's going on? The signal is lost!" the operator exclaimed.
"Pull him up! Pull him up quickly!" Professor Yan panicked.
The winch spun wildly, and the steel cable was taut.
A few minutes later, the robot's wreckage was pulled out of the well.
Everyone gasped in shock.
The machine, which was originally square, has now been twisted into a pretzel shape.
On the drill bit of the machine, there was a clump of purplish-black, still wriggling...mycelium.
The mycelium did not die from leaving the ground; instead, it seemed to smell the scent of living people, and suddenly unfurled, releasing a faint purple mist into the air.
The student closest to the camera took a drag, froze instantly, then started chuckling foolishly, pointing to the sky and shouting, "Ultraman! I saw Ultraman doing a pole dance!"
"Hallucinogenic gas!" Professor Yan exclaimed in shock, covering his mouth and nose as he backed away. "Quick! Isolate him!"
But he retreated too slowly.
The clump of mycelium seemed to come to life, leaping up and hurtling towards Professor Yan, the target with the strongest (and therefore the most greedy) biomagnetic field among the present.
"Snapped!"
No tragedy occurred.
A large hand firmly grasped the clump of mycelium.
Wang Minyu had somehow put on a pair of thick rubber gloves, as if he had grabbed fate by the scruff of its neck, and squeezed that menacing thing.
"I told you, they have bad tempers." Wang Minyu looked at the struggling mycelium in his hand, his eyes filled with affection as if he were looking at a naughty puppy. "Professor Yan, it seems that your science can't explain this thing."
Professor Yan was so frightened that he fell to the ground with a thud, his glasses askew, all traces of his earlier arrogance gone: "What...what kind of monster is this?"
"These are my crops." Wang Minyu stuffed the mycelium into a specially made lead box, the one Pierre used to store spices. "You almost ruined my harvest this season."
He walked up to Professor Yan, squatted down, and handed him the thermos.
"Professor, were you startled? Here, have some soup to calm your nerves. It's a local specialty, also made with mushrooms, but cooked."
Professor Yan looked at the stainless steel bucket, then at the terrifying thing from before, and shook his head frantically.
"You don't have to drink it." Wang Minyu stood up and clapped his hands. "Those spores have already entered your respiratory tract. In about half an hour, you'll start to feel like you're a broccoli and want to plant yourself in the soil. This symptom is medically called 'fungal cognitive impairment.' There's no cure except for this bowl of soup."
Professor Yan felt a tickle in his throat, an itch that seemed to travel down his trachea and made the hairs on his body stand on end.
He looked around and saw that the crazed student had been pinned down and was gnawing on the dirt on the ground.
Fear triumphed over dignity.
"I...I'll drink it." Professor Yan stretched out his hand, trembling.
Wang Minyu laughed, a laugh like a shrewd businessman: "This soup is a bit pricey, and I don't accept reimbursement with public funds. Besides, after you drink my soup, can we talk about 'scientific research cooperation' on this land?"