Chapter 32
Water sources have always been a major headache for researchers at the plantation.
While plants can grow without soil, they cannot thrive without water. Unfortunately, the harsh conditions of Prison Star mean that not only the soil but also the water is contaminated with pollutants.
Transporting water from other planets was deemed impractical due to the exorbitant costs. Thus, when the Blood Mist first appeared, solving the water contamination issue became the Star Alliance scientists’ top priority.
That period was incredibly challenging. Countless soldiers succumbed to mutations and died after being forced to consume contaminated water due to severe shortages.
Thankfully, investigations revealed that the pollution levels in the underground river water were relatively low. After filtration and purification, it could just barely be rendered safe for consumption without immediately affecting mental stability.
Although prolonged consumption still posed risks to the human body, the emergence of Purifiers provided a solution.
By sending soldiers with high pollution levels to Purifiers for treatment, not only could berserk episodes be prevented, but tolerance to pollutants could also be gradually increased.
The implications of enhanced pollutant tolerance became the subject of research projects at the institute.
Following the arrival of Purifiers, researchers at the plantation initiated a new study:
Could plants with purification properties be cultivated?
If such plants could be developed and mass-produced, they would greatly improve the environment of Prison Star, regardless of their potential as food sources.
Unfortunately, despite 21 years of effort—since the Blood Mist first began receding from human bases in Star Alliance Year 1310—scientists have yet to make any significant breakthroughs on this front.
Adding to the challenge, increasingly extreme weather has posed severe obstacles to the plantation’s hydroponic cultivation techniques.
Of course, challenges often come hand-in-hand with opportunities.
Crop seeds that could survive cultivation in Prison Star often proved to be excellent strains on other planets, helping address food shortages caused by population explosions.
Furthermore, the vegetables grown in Prison Star’s plantation frequently produced mutated variants with unique properties.
Although not all of these variants were edible, 20 years of cultivation have resulted in several stable strains. The primary drawback is their low yield.
To preserve their benefits, these plants with special properties are typically processed into specialized nutrient solutions. These solutions are prioritized for distribution to Prison Star’s various bases to enhance the capabilities of its soldiers.
This is one of the key reasons why, despite Prison Star’s hazardous environment, nations are willing to continuously deploy elite soldiers to its bases.
Only a small fraction of these specialized nutrient solutions is shipped to the Star Alliance headquarters for sale. Since the first batch of special nutrient solutions was released from Prison Star a decade ago, demand has consistently outstripped supply.
It’s worth noting that, due to Prison Star’s perilous environment, some scientists have attempted to simulate its conditions on other planets to cultivate these unique crops.
For this purpose, soil from Prison Star was transported to a resource planet located nearest to it, with the aim of growing these special mutated plants.
However, an unforeseen incident occurred when the soil arrived on the resource planet.
As soon as the container holding an entire shipment of Prison Star soil was opened, a dense Blood Mist containing high levels of pollutants burst forth. It engulfed the entire transport team and the staff at the plantation base.
Even though the personnel were wearing protective suits, they were instantly corrupted the moment they were engulfed by the Blood Mist. They lost control, went berserk, and mutated.
Worse still, the base had not implemented strict protective measures beforehand, and the incident occurred too suddenly. As a result, it required a massive effort and heavy losses to eliminate all the mutated individuals.
Although the incident was swiftly sealed off from the public, the consequences of this oversight couldn’t be undone.
The base where the event occurred was immediately designated a restricted area. To this day, it remains shrouded in dense, terrifying Blood Mist.
Even more concerning is that the Blood Mist continues to spread outward. The volume of pollutants within the mist now far exceeds what was initially contained in the single shipping container.
This incident revealed another property of the Blood Mist: not only is it highly corrosive, but the pollutants it contains also possess the ability to self-replicate.
Subsequent scientific analyses of past data revealed a troubling trend: the concentration of Blood Mist retreating into uninhabited areas of Prison Star has been steadily increasing year by year.
The only silver lining was that, due to the hazardous nature of Prison Star’s soil, the resource planet’s base had been constructed in a remote, uninhabited wilderness, far from human settlements. This containment prevented the tragedy from claiming more lives.
After spreading to a certain range, the Blood Mist ceased to expand further. However, instead of dissipating over time, it grew denser with each passing year.
It is said that terrifying sounds are often heard emanating from the Blood Mist.
The incident served as a grim wake-up call for all researchers, underscoring the unique and perilous nature of Prison Star.
Over the past 21 years, apart from extreme weather, the Blood Mist has not encroached on human bases again.
Given this, the tragedy was not allowed to repeat itself. The Star Alliance elevated Prison Star’s danger level to the highest tier, banning any individual or organization from transporting pollutants from Prison Star to other parts of the galaxy.
From that year onward, every transport ship leaving Prison Star has been subject to stringent inspections and purification processes.
Despite the allure of the mutant plants with their unique properties, no one dares to act recklessly anymore. The only legitimate way to obtain these resources is by purchasing processed products through the Star Alliance.
This has turned the mutant plants into a significant source of income for the bases on Prison Star.
Base 24 is, of course, no exception.
For well-known reasons, Base 24 has always struggled financially, making it difficult to allocate sufficient resources for the development of the plantation.
As a result, the plantation’s output barely meets the internal demands of the base, leaving little room for generating additional income through mutant crop cultivation.
As the head of Base 24’s plantation, Wu Yunqin naturally wanted to increase the production of mutant crops. Beyond boosting revenue, these crops held immense research value. After all, the scholars who came to work on this perilous planet—despite being powerless to defend themselves—were undoubtedly drawn by the allure of these mutant plants.
However, the decision wasn’t entirely hers to make.
Mutant crop cultivation required significant manpower and resource investment. A single oversight could result in highly aggressive mutant variants that could harm the cultivators, necessitating military personnel to guard the plantation and action teams to assist during the harvest.
The need for resources was also straightforward: crops with unique effects, such as rapid healing, physique enhancement, or expanded mental capacity, demanded exponentially more fertilizer during cultivation.
And Base 24 was, frankly, dirt poor.
In earlier years, the situation wasn’t as dire. Though the research institute burned through money, it occasionally delivered tangible results.
However, as the number of cubs in the nursery grew and their destructive capabilities increased with age, the base’s financial resources became increasingly strained. This created a vicious cycle, leaving minimal funding available for mutant crop cultivation.
Wu Yunqin had considered transferring to another base. With her expertise, she could undoubtedly thrive elsewhere. However, such a move would leave a bad impression.
As the head of Base 24’s plantation, she was essentially in charge. Without an official transfer order from higher-ups, anyone else in the plantation could apply to relocate, but she couldn’t.
So, she stayed and poured her efforts into managing the plantation.
Her current predicament stemmed from this particular batch of vegetables. In addition to supplying Base 24, the plantation had agreements with two other bases.
These bases housed prisons with large populations of inmates and guards, creating a high demand for vegetables. While Base 24 couldn’t cultivate mutant crops on a large scale, it had no problem producing ordinary vegetables, which allowed it to collaborate with nearby bases to secure additional income and resources.
The harvest had been scheduled for the next two days. However, the blood rain yesterday caused a sudden spike in airborne pollutant levels, delaying the process by several days until the pollution levels dropped.
During this period, the vegetables in the plantation—being in their harvest phase—would inevitably be affected. At this point, it was too late for effective intervention, and there was no telling how much of the crop could still be salvaged.
“Hmm?”
A surprised exclamation from nearby broke Wu Yunqin’s train of thought.
She turned to the young man operating the machinery and asked, “Xiao Zhuang, what is it? Did you notice something?”
Most people working in the plantations across Prison Star bases were top talents in agricultural science from various interstellar nations.
Her assistant, despite his youth, had already made several significant scientific contributions. In particular, he was a rising star in hydroponic cultivation research.
Wu Yunqin highly valued his insights. On Prison Star, unpredictability was the norm, and even minor oversights could lead to severe consequences, jeopardizing both personal and base safety.
Hearing her question, Zhuang Shishong snapped out of his thoughts.
Pushing his sliding glasses up his nose, he shook his head and replied hesitantly, “It’s nothing… It’s just that today’s water seems… clearer than usual.”
Hearing this, Wu Yunqin turned her gaze to the monitoring screen, focusing on the cultivation tanks for the hydroponic plants. With years of experience in soilless cultivation, she immediately noticed something unusual.
“Indeed. After last night’s blood rain, the underground water we’re drawing today should logically show higher pollution levels.”
Rainwater had a significant impact on the underground river. After a blood rain, the water would typically turn murky, sometimes even tinged with red. Special treatment was always required before it could be used in the plantation.
No matter how thorough the treatment, completely removing the pollutants was nearly impossible without the intervention of a Purifier.
However, Purifiers were a scarce resource, so their assistance was out of the question. The plantation had to make do with treated water. Yet today, the water in the cultivation tanks was not only clear but visibly cleaner than usual.
Frowning, Wu Yunqin instructed, “Xiao Zhuang, go test the water samples immediately.”
“Understood,” Zhuang Shishong replied and left promptly.
Wu Yunqin continued observing the vegetables in the cultivation tanks and was startled to notice that their growth seemed unusually robust. The plants were visibly vibrant, their lush green leaves practically glistening—a rare sight in the harsh conditions of Prison Star.
What is happening? Wu Yunqin wondered. Could some unknown change be occurring on Prison Star?
Unbeknownst to her, one of the monitoring screens captured a peculiar scene: a single plant, nourished by the unusually clean water and faint spiritual energy within it, was gently unfurling its leaves. It radiated subtle waves of joy, affecting its surroundings.
Invisible airborne pollutants recoiled and dispersed as they approached this plant, as if unwilling to invade its immediate vicinity.
*
Meanwhile, in the activity room, Su Ci, who had been talking to Number Eight, instinctively glanced out the window.
The arrangements he made last night seemed to be taking effect.
“You want this toy, don’t you?”
Number Eight’s voice snapped Su Ci back to the present. Withdrawing his spiritual awareness, he looked down to see the boy staring at him with an expression that seemed to say, Don’t bother pretending—I know the truth.
“I’ve never played with this before. Doesn’t look like much fun,” Number Eight said, shaking the flute-like object in his hand. It felt too light, hollow inside, with several holes drilled into it.
He’d seen Number Seven use it before. That boy would always blow air into one of the holes whenever he got his hands on it, but nothing exciting ever seemed to happen.
Yet, every time, Number Seven would insist on having it, treating it like a treasure.
Earlier that day, Number Eight arrived early and casually picked up the flute while choosing toys. The moment Number Seven showed up, he snatched it back without a word and glared at Number Eight fiercely.
If Number Seven had asked politely, Number Eight would’ve given it up. But the outright snatching, paired with that disdainful glare, had set his temper ablaze.
Why should someone who breaks the rules get to act so high and mighty?
That was how their fight started, leading to the scene Su Ci had walked in on.
“Since you keep your promises, I’ll let you have it,” Number Eight declared grandly, holding out the flute-like object to Su Ci. At the same time, he turned his face away, lifting his chin in a display of cool defiance.
Su Ci took the flute, amused. “Keep my promises?”
“Yeah.”
Number Eight blurted, “You came to see me yesterday. I know—”
He stopped abruptly.
Realizing he might’ve said too much, the boy’s gaze darted away. Stammering, he tried to change the subject. “Do you… do you know how to use this thing?”
Su Ci, noticing the boy’s reddening ears, didn’t press the issue. Instead, he humored him, “Yes, it’s a flute.”
To be precise, it was a bamboo flute, though not made of actual bamboo. Su Ci wasn’t sure what material it was, as his memory offered no relevant information.
“A flute?”
Number Eight, originally just trying to cover his slip-up, now found his curiosity piqued. “What’s it for? How do you use it?”
The boy’s bright green eyes sparkled with interest, full of vitality and curiosity. When calm and unburdened by his bloodline powers, he radiated a sunny energy, like a small, warm sun.
Su Ci appreciated this liveliness—it was a quality sorely missing from the desolate world around them.
Walking over to the corner, Su Ci set an overturned chair upright and took a seat.
Nice world building