Chapter 289: Shaking Academia for a Thousand Years

Kraft saw off Greene, who was reluctant to leave his work, sincerely hoping the Heavenly Father would grant him health, or that the Deep Beings would spare him due to their aversion to remote office duties.

The approval process for temporary departure was brief, and the belongings to pack were few; roughly half a day later, the two bundled the priest and luggage onto a carriage and sent it to the suburban outskirts.

A pleasant environment, far from crowds, was suitable for adjusting one's mental state.

Kraft watched the carriage vanish at the far end of the square, instructed Brother Wading to stay in frequent contact, then returned to the clinic in the same carriage he had arrived in.

Greene's request had genuinely moved him; this ought to have been the most basic need.

The reason, perhaps, was the existence of spiritual senses, which caused Kraft to rarely entertain the thought: "I must build a device to evaluate this."

Just as a person with normal hearing rarely thinks to describe sound to the deaf, who cannot comprehend how vibrations too subtle for even the most sensitive skin to detect can be received and interpreted across vast distances as incredibly rich, distinct information.

There needed to be something that allowed those without special senses to "see" the influence at that level.

In Kraft's view, it still had to begin with the only known substance that reacted to this: black salt.

From another angle, this seemed to indicate Greene had approved research into Deep products; he could now legitimately handle the samples without worrying how to explain his actions to some unexpected visitor from the Inquisition.

Thinking this way, Kraft felt he could squeeze out some time to devote to his second most important hobby.

Of course, for safety's sake, this couldn't be done in the clinic.

After finishing his daily medical duties, he took Kup with him and returned to the vacant experimental level at Dunling University to begin his attempts.

The new assistant watched as the professor unwrapped a mysterious box layered three times inside and out, clearing away the packed wood shavings and cotton padding.

As if sensing imminent exposure to daylight, a rhythmic sound began, growing clearer with each layer removed, unsettlingly pounding against the eardrums.

They were two thick-walled glass bottles, not containing medicinal preparations, but some indescribable amorphous living matter, its semi-fluid form adhering to and contracting against the glass walls, the hard object inside repeatedly striking the glass to produce that sound.

What surprised Kup most was his strange sense of familiarity with them; deep, long-healed memory wounds began to throb faintly, awakening unavoidable physiological discomfort.

"Have you been to that place again?" Though there was no direct visual resemblance, the strange white surface and curled, supple posture easily linked them in his mind to the thing that invaded dreams.

"I wish they were truly from there," Kraft observed the state of both samples, selected the more active one, fixed it onto a sturdy hardwood base, and secured it with a latch.

Besides preparing the experimental table, he lit a small stove and began heating water.

"Unfortunately not. These were picked up from the sewers."

"I thought such things only appeared over there," Kup felt an itch on the soles of his feet, imagining the intricate, all-pervading drainage system beneath them; standing on the city's surface was genuinely chilling.

Theoretically, if they were determined to reach the surface, you might encounter a terrifying surprise in your sink one night while washing your face, just like a slug after rain.

"Their origin is indeed over there," Kraft took out several similarly sized black salt grains and placed them in glass dishes at varying distances from the sample, "there's an even larger one below; fortunately, they can't reach up yet."

His preliminary plan was to detect which activities of the Deep Beings triggered the liquid transformation of black salt, and how the effect diminished with distance.

Though he could use himself as the source of influence, that would hinder the exclusion of subjective interference, and the native beings should differ fundamentally from those altered later in life—at least Kraft had not discovered any magical ability of his own to pull people into that realm through dreams.

He needed an experimental subject without complex conscious activity.

They drew a large grid of chessboard lines on the table with ink to measure distances between black salt and the sample, then covered the glass bottles with cloth, waiting in silence as the tapping continued.

To minimize his own influence as much as possible, Kraft sat in the farthest corner of the room.

He had considered waiting in the next room, but the sample couldn't be left unattended, and he didn't trust Kup alone with these hazardous items, so he stayed.

Then came a long wait. After flipping the hourglass five times, the two took turns observing the black salt on the table with lenses.

The conclusion: no change. From two grid units away to the edge of the table, the black grains remained sharply angular, like shards of obsidian.

As expected—if Deep Beings could cause melting with mere twitching, the scattered black salt would long ago have liquefied into water bodies, dragging everyone into dreams.

"What's next?"

"Next, I hope it becomes more active, showing some extraordinary abilities," Kraft poured hot water into the sink and handed it to Kup.

"Start with physical stimulation. Don't worry—it's far more heat-resistant than you imagine."

The organism submerged in the sink did indeed show new movement.

At first, like most organisms' instinctive reaction, it thrashed violently, rising and falling as if boiling, agitated like grease tossed into a frying pan, desperately striking the glass walls seeking escape.

In less than ten seconds, it realized the futility, contracted away from the heat source, and fell still, as if resigned.

Just as Kraft assumed the sample's response would end there, color changes became noticeable.

The moist, pallid surface darkened, its reflectivity decreased, forming a texture akin to thickened keratin from worn areas, encasing the internal structure.

This thick "old skin" restricted its movement, creating an illusion of calm, while active biological matter continued flowing and brewing new tissues within.

"Amazing…" No matter how many times he saw it, he still felt it was a miraculous organism.

Barriers of differentiation meant nothing to it; through its innate ability, it could assemble any tissue like building blocks, shaping it to meet immediate needs.

Through its semi-transparent skin, one could see the relatively fixed cartilaginous supports, the slender hollow tubes for transport, their slightly darker fluid propelled by its own contractions.

And the bundles enabling its rhythmic contractions… perhaps some tissue analogous to cardiac muscle, for only cardiac muscle exhibited such autonomy.

Kraft was nearly entranced, momentarily forgetting why he had come to conduct this experiment. He understood those drawn to it—he saw even more within.

Diabetes, heart failure, chronic renal failure—all irreversible conditions—could become fully curable diseases: simply direct differentiation of new tissue to replace the damaged.

"Damn it, cardiac stem cells are real now—this will shake academia for a thousand years."

"What are you saying?" Kup was puzzled by his employer's sudden excitement, unsure whether to hand over the lens now, "Can you look at this? The closest black salt seems to have changed slightly."