Wu Sheng Lu Mingfei of the Dragon Clan

The mixed races who were watching the live broadcast finally figured out the origin of the eight-armed guardian at the beginning.

At that time, they thought it was strange that although the hybrids degenerate into deadpools, any kind of distortion is possible, but the image of the eight-armed guardian, which is extremely religious, seems to be a bit of human intervention.

But how is this possible, they have never heard of any technology to induce distortion.

Now the truth is revealed, the essence of the eight-armed guardian is a hybrid species transplanted with Deadpool's limbs.

His eight deformed and asymmetrical arms belonged to different deadpools.

As for the four-meter-high body of the eight-armed protector, it was either a normal reaction during the transplantation process, or some other unknown technology. There was no specific experimental data at hand, and no matter how clever a scholar was, he couldn't predict it.

Caesar snorted.

When he thought about what the old monk said before, Yun Luming was not a Dharma protector, he felt extremely upset.

Guess I also know that if you want to undergo Deadpool transplant surgery, you must have very high requirements for the quality of the mixed race itself, otherwise their only end is to die on the operating table.

There are too many similar examples. At this moment, the laboratory where Yuanyuan and others are located can be seen everywhere. Some mixed races died of rejection with only half of the sutures on their body surface. Throw the defective product in a corner, and it's over.

The ethics of research have disappeared in this slaughterhouse-like room. They are crazy. If they use Deadpool as an experiment, it can be understood a little bit. their kind.

Unforgivable.

A group of warriors dispersed, trying to find possible research logs.

This is just trying my best, and I don't have much hope. After all, in this room, research ethics and research norms disappear at the same time. Standing here will have a feeling of dreaming back to the Middle Ages. Plague doctors use chainsaws and axes to practice medicine. No matter what the problem is, amputation must be a panacea. As for whether the patient can survive the wound infection and blood loss after amputation, leave it to God, my friend.

In this kind of nightmarish place, you don’t have to expect to find disinfectant and white coats, let alone sterility. Anyway, infection to death is nothing more than consuming one more research material, that’s all.

But unexpectedly, they actually found it, researching the log.

It was a dilapidated booklet, most of which were stained with black and red blood. You had to turn through many pages to find a few scattered paragraphs of useful information.

This research log belongs to a doctor. Judging from the above information, he seems to have a fairly high status in the shelter.

"The progress of the refuge is very fast. Should I say that it is Mr. Manager? I am really happy to work under his command. Of course, it would be better if Mr. Manager can allocate a batch of funds to my project. I am sure Will love him to death."

"The theory of gene lock and consciousness institute is very interesting. My inspiration keeps coming out. Wait, since a complete breakthrough of gene lock will inevitably lead to degeneration, can you try... No, this is really crazy!"

There is a trace of ink smearing here, and the handwriting before and after is also obviously different. The handwriting after smearing looks chaotic and crazy. It can be seen that the doctor's mental state was very bad at that time, and he seemed to have received a serious shock.

Seeing the involuntary curiosity of the people here, what exactly did the doctor smear?
"The progress of the project is frustrating. Can we really unlock the secrets in the dragon's blood?"

"Perhaps, mortal things shouldn't spy on the seat of the gods."

Yuanyuan turned to a new page, and was a little surprised that there was a large section of complete text.

"Recently, the managers seem to be in a bad mood. It's no wonder that the research has made no progress, and they are burning a lot of money every day. What about the shelter's self-concealment and protection mechanisms? Hiding underground cannot solve all problems once and for all. , Dr. Cohen's artificial Nibelungen proposal is very interesting, but the manager rejected it. Although he gave a reason, saying that artificial Nibelungen technology has been adopted in shelters, in order to avoid risks, we must Take a different route, but I have to say that the managers are a bit too idealistic, they have to survive first, and then consider other things, there is no doubt that artificial Nibelungen technology is the safest route.”

"Wait, it occurred to me, maybe the administrators are right, well, well, the Nibelungs are an absolute miracle to us sad mortals, but what about the great dragons? It's just It’s just their toys, maybe like Lego blocks, I heard that the monarch of the land and mountains can control all the Nibelungs in this world, and even open the door to the kingdom of the dead, even if we hide in the artificial Nibelung Gen, for the monarch, as long as he wants to come in, it is probably not as difficult as breaking an egg shell."

Afterwards, the doctor's handwriting appeared weak, a bit like a lack of energy.

"Perhaps from the very beginning, trying to resist fate itself was a joke."

"The more you know, the more you despair."

"I think I need to increase the dosage of sleeping pills, wish me good dreams."

This doctor seems to write the research log as a diary, probably because he didn't expect someone to open it in the future, and he said everything in it.

From his words, one can read quite strong negative emotions. The doctor is probably desperate, and he also knows that he is desperate. He is just deceiving himself and others, using a lot of experiments and drugs to make himself not think too much.

The logs after that are all the same, they are all simple experimental records, and the results of all experiments are all failures without exception.

Fail Fail or Fail.

The doctor wrote this at the end of the day.

"I'm like a sacrifice trapped in the maze of Crete. I thought I was approaching the exit, but does this maze really have an exit?"

This sentence seems to have a deep meaning. The doctor's brushwork is very calm, but the calmer it is, the more disturbing it is. The mixed races are all familiar with the world's major mythological systems, and naturally they can see the origin of the Cretan labyrinth at a glance. This is a labyrinth in Greek mythology. According to legend, there lived a monster with the head of a bull and a human body, who liked to eat human flesh, especially the flesh of virgins.

The doctor said that he was approaching the exit, but he doubted whether that place was the exit, so the question came, if the place the doctor approached was not the exit, where would it be?

Reminiscent of the Doctor's use of the Cretan Labyrinth to describe his current situation, a feeling of uneasiness welled up in his heart.

Sure enough, the unease came true.

"I don't think that blindly escaping can solve any problems. Shelters may help humans survive the doomsday, but future human civilization cannot stay in a small shelter until the end of time. This is a cradle, but not a home. We must Gain the power to rebuild civilization, the power to rebuild civilization on the wasteland."

"So, I have to."

"Forgive me if you can."

"I read a Buddhist scripture given by the great monk a while ago, which helped me a lot. I seem to understand why so many scientists choose to believe in their old age. The more we understand, the more desperate we are. Therefore, we need a spiritual sustenance."

Finally, the doctor wrote this.

"Whether the end of this road is a Buddha or a demon, I have to go down, there is no other choice, isn't it?"

Since then, the Doctor has been a different person.

No more hopeless sentences in the research log.

He just recorded his actions with icy brushstrokes.

"I know that the managers will definitely not agree with my approach."

"So other help has to be sought."

"Very well, I also know who to look for."

"The monks seem to have other ideas about asylum, and maybe they can get help from them."

"My project has started. The first batch of research materials will be in place tomorrow. The new assistant, Chen Xue, is a very cheerful little girl. This is quite rare. It's great to remain optimistic in this world where the end may come at any time."

"The research has encountered difficulties from the very beginning, it's okay, I know, this road is not easy to walk, but this is a new direction, there must be something waiting for me there, just let me see, the end of the maze Is it a monster or a hero?"

"I heard that the manager died. I haven't seen Chen Xuexiao for a while. She asked me tiredly when I was processing the material today."

"She said, doctor, if we die, we must go to hell."

"What a silly boy."

"Don't you understand, Chen Xue, we are already in hell."

Several pages were covered with invisible blood stains, and finally found valuable information.

"Very good, there is progress. Sure enough, I am right, I am right, I will definitely find the truth!"

"Damn it, damn it! What about the material! Why is there not enough material! Do those bald people know what they are doing? What if my project is delayed! This is a great research that will affect all mankind! They really should I committed suicide and apologized for my negligence of duty!"

"The material is here, um, it's still fresh, it's a hybrid who just fell not long ago, it's really good, the research" can continue.

"Strange, the number 1014 in the afternoon is so familiar, I always feel as if I have seen this material somewhere, where is it?"

"Speaking of which, I haven't seen Chen Xue for several days. Where did this dead girl go? Forget it, let her do the research."

"Materials, materials, materials! I need more materials! By the way, I still need to find some materials in the intermediate state. The research on Deadpool is promising, but I need hybrids."

"Fortunately, the old stubborn manager is dead, and the monks should help. Didn't they say something about Buddha's marrow and a thousand hand gestures last time? They're nagging, it doesn't matter, they give them what they want, some insignificant gadgets That's all."

Buddhist marrow?

Thousand-handed Buddha?
These two words attracted people's attention. The monk the doctor mentioned should be Tantric. According to the log, there was a rebellion in this refuge, and the Tantric people killed the administrator here, thus seizing authority.

The doctor started his research with the support of Tantra. As for what the doctor's subject is, the answer is already obvious, isn't it?
Transplant Deadpool's limbs to hybrids, and gradually possess power beyond the limits of hybrids.

Of course, the doctor's goal must be bigger than this. He seems to want to find a way to transform a man into a dragon.

The following logs are basically a mess, full of blood stains, even if there are a few barely distinguishable words occasionally, it looks like a lunatic's meaningless raving.

They really want to know, what is the Buddha's marrow, and what is the Thousand-Handed Buddha?
Couldn't find the answer in the logs, maybe at a higher level.

However, this log also gave a lot of information.

It seems that after the Tantrics got the Buddhist pulp and Thousand-Handed Buddha they wanted, they gave up the doctor. He asked for too much, and kept asking the Tantrics to provide research materials. Finally, one day, the people of the Tantrics killed him. he.

But later, for some reason, Tantrics took a fancy to the unfinished project of the doctor, and they restarted this laboratory to continue the research of the doctor.

But these tantric monks may be good at killing people, but as for research, they really don't know anything.

What is certain is that the deadpool transplant technology is in the hands of the doctor, and it is definitely not like the slaughterhouse it is today.

Tantric monks are like primitive people who have picked up an AK47, completely using guns as iron bars.

Su Xiaoqiang took pictures with the miniature camera he carried with him, and then carefully put it into a transparent plastic bag.

Here is the third floor.

The warriors dispersed and checked carefully for the last time.

After making sure nothing was found, they headed to the fourth floor.

The layout here is exactly the same as the third floor, very similar. At first glance, the warriors thought they had made a mistake. They were still on the third floor and hadn't come up yet.

But at a glance, it is not here.

The prisons below are all empty, there are people here, yes, really people, not Deadpool or other monsters.

Su Xiaoqiang tried to smash open the iron door, and punched down with strength. The iron door was only slightly deformed, and it remained intact.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, what kind of material is this?Actually able to party under his own fist.

But it’s true if you think about it, either the hybrids or the dead waiters are imprisoned inside. If the materials are not enough, how can they be locked up.

Two sword lights flashed, and the iron gate collapsed.

Yuanyuan put away her sword and walked inside.

A young girl was lying on the messy straw. She was motionless, her whole body was covered with blue scales, she opened a pair of dim vertical pupils, and stared blankly at the ceiling. There was a simple painting there, and the compassionate Buddha was smiling, peaceful and joyful.

"Are you dead?"

"Ah."

Yuanyuan squatted down, stretched out her hand to close the girl's eyes, tried several times, but it was nothing.

"It doesn't fit."

Yuanyuan sighed.

"Let's restrain ourselves together later."

"Well, with the kids."

Su Xiaoqiang found the key in the central room, and they opened the doors one by one. Inside were all deformed hybrids, who belonged to the half-deadpool they defined.

Too much.

Later, Su Xiaoqiang wondered whether Tantric Buddhism had any secret technique that could stably induce the degeneration of mixed races.

Otherwise, where are there so many half-dead waiters.