Chapter 289

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 leave was brief, and the items to pack were few; within about half a day, 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 Vatin to keep 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 of all.

The reason, perhaps, was the existence of spiritual senses, which caused Kraft to rarely entertain the thought: "I need to build a device to measure 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 of that layer.

In Kraft's view, he still had to start with the only known substance that reacted to it: 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 laboratory 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—semi-fluid bodies clinging to the glass walls, contracting and expanding, their enclosed hard objects repeatedly striking the glass to produce that sound.

What surprised Kup most was his strange 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 things that invaded dreams.

"I wish they were from there," Kraft observed the two samples, selected the more active one, fixed it onto a sturdy hardwood base, and secured it with a clamp.

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

"Unfortunately not. I picked them up from the sewer."

"I thought such things only appeared over there," Kup felt an itch beneath his feet, imagining the intricate, all-pervading drainage system below—standing on the city's surface felt 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, but someone always likes introducing foreign species," Kraft took out several similarly sized grains of black salt and placed them in glass dishes at varying distances from the sample. "There's an even larger one down below—thankfully they can't climb 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 introduce subjective interference, and the native beings should differ fundamentally from those altered later—Kraft had yet to discover he possessed any magical ability 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, 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 dangerous 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 through lenses.

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

As expected—if Deep Beings could trigger melting with mere twitching, black salt scattered everywhere would have long since liquefied into water, dragging everyone into dreams.

"What's next?"

"Next, I hope it becomes more active, shows some extraordinary ability," 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 living things, it thrashed violently, rising and falling as if boiling, agitated like grease tossed into a frying pan, desperately striking the glass walls seeking escape.

Within 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 had reached its limit, subtle color changes became noticeable.

The moist, pallid surface darkened, its reflectivity decreased, forming a texture akin to thickened keratin where the body had been worn down, enveloping 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.

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

Barriers of differentiation meant nothing to it; through its innate ability, it could assemble tissues like building blocks, shaping them 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 powering its rhythmic contractions… perhaps some tissue analogous to cardiac muscle—only cardiac muscle exhibited such autonomy.

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

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

"Damn it, cardiac stem cells are real—this will shake the academic world 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. "Look—this black salt closest to the sample seems to have changed."