Chapter 1861 Hidden Room <TOC> Chapter 1863 Mission Indicator
Translator: SumTLMan
“The fifth day of the early part of the Month of Spring Offering, Year 6563 of the New Era in the Southern Region.”
“Hahahaha! Just as I thought, just as I thought! I’ve succeeded! Experiment 117 was a success!”
A string of self-absorbed words, coupled with increasingly extravagant calligraphy, sketched a sense of madness on the parchment.
Angel looked at these words, silent. All the curiosity and urgency in his heart seemed to be doused with cold water. The mad calligraphy on the page seemed to transform into a mocking expression.
What about the information on the hidden room? Weren’t you suspicious of a hidden room? Why suddenly don’t you care?
Moreover, wasn’t the previous entry still in the Month of Recovery? How suddenly it jumped to the Month of Spring Offering, did Tizarro immerse himself in Experiment 117 during these two months?
Angel flipped to the back cover of the notebook, which was blank, without any text.
He then read the notebook from beginning to end again, looking to see if he had missed some crucial clues by moving too fast… Yet, he found nothing.
Tizarro had only thrown out a guess on the penultimate page and then completely disregarded it.
Perhaps, it was not disregard; maybe Tizarro just didn’t record certain things in the notebook.
Angel sighed and tossed the notebook aside, turning his gaze to the two scrolls beside him—— —Tizarro Experiment Record No. 117— Volumes I and II.
His eyes lit up slightly, perhaps Tizarro recorded something about the hidden room in these scrolls?
With this intention, Angel decided to unroll the scrolls and take a look.
Half an hour later.
Angel, massaging his slightly swollen temples, lifted his head from his desk. His expression conveyed disappointment; the two scrolls before him held no records of any hidden rooms, merely an account of an experimental procedure.
The experiment delved into realms beyond Angel’s current knowledge, making it a challenging read. An hour’s reading drained as much energy as half a day’s study of other materials.
Upon finishing the last word, Angel felt a dizzy spell.
After a considerable rest, the discomfort gradually eased.
Regaining his composure, Angel’s gaze swept over the two scrolls on the desk again, a hint of complexity in his eyes.
Experiment No. 117 detailed the cultivation of a mycelium bomb.
Tizarro was cultivating a type of mycelium capable of parasitizing living organisms, manipulating the host’s blood and energy to create a terrifying explosion. This was the so-called mycelium bomb.
Familiar with the experiment’s summary, Angel realized its similarity to the Umbrella Fungus Bloodline.
The Umbrella Fungus Bloodline, a “one-time bloodline,” ensures death upon activation. Those injected with this bloodline, dubbed as surrogate puppets or sacrificial soldiers, harm enemies at the cost of self-destruction.
Baruba had been injected with this bloodline.
Angel pondered if Tizarro’s mycelium bomb was related to the Umbrella Fungus Bloodline.
After a moment of thought, Angel shook his head, dismissing these tangled thoughts. The connection between the mycelium bomb and the Umbrella Fungus Bloodline was irrelevant to him.
More than Tizarro’s experiment, he was concerned about his own accumulation of knowledge and the mentioned hidden rooms.
After all, planning to temporarily reside in the ruins, Angel hoped to find any hidden rooms for safety reasons.
Since Tizarro didn’t mention anything about a hidden room, Angel decided to personally search for it.
For the next hour or so, Angel began using mental tendrils to probe the entire ruins. However, the final result was still disappointing.
The lower three levels of the ruins didn’t contain any mechanisms that could be activated; under the mental tendrils, everything was plainly visible without any secrets.
Then, could it be in the corridor on the first level?
Angel pondered for a moment, walked out of the study, and planned to check out the situation in the corridor on the first level. Regrettably, after his repeated inspections, there was also nothing unusual in the first-level corridor.
Angel thought about it and felt it made sense.
When Tizarro initially moved in, he was a second-level true knowledge wizard. If someone of his realm didn’t discover the hidden room, how could he easily find it?
Moreover, there was another key question: did the so-called hidden room even exist? This was also a matter of doubt.
Tizarro might have just casually mentioned it in his notes, and considering how unconcerned he seemed afterward, it might have just been his momentary paranoia.
As Angel was thinking this, he had already reached the entrance of the corridor, which was also the main gate of the ruins.
Angel thought about it, stretched out his hand, and pushed open the main gate.
Outside was the night of the Paramjit Plateau.
The thin snowfield, under the night sky lit by stars and moon, reflected a faint glimmer. It seemed less wild than during the day and possessed a gentleness unique to the night.
Angel stepped out of the ruins, his gaze shifting to the withered stump at the entrance.
With a gentle sweep of his sleeve, the illusion enveloping the surroundings vanished. The withered stump visibly rejuvenated into a lush, five-meter-tall tree.
Since no clues were found within the ruins, Angel decided to consult Tree Spirit.
After all, it was Tree Spirit who had handed him —Tizarro’s Experiment Record No. 117 (Volume I)—, so he certainly knew of the existence of the subsequent volume and must understand Tizarro’s notes.
Did Tree Spirit know about this hidden room?
With this question in mind, Angel reached out and touched the tree trunk, simultaneously channeling a stream of mental power through his fingertips into the trunk.
Initially, the tree showed no response, but after about a minute, the leaves began to sway without wind, each emitting a bright green light.
These lights slowly merged, eventually forming a green silhouette.
Within this silhouette, the figure of Tree Spirit appeared.
“Good evening, Tree Spirit Lord,” Angel greeted, bowing slightly as Tree Spirit’s eyes began to show signs of life within the silhouette.
After manifesting, Tree Spirit stretched languidly and leaned against the trunk, saying, “It’s still three hours before the morning star rises. Rather than saying good evening, it would be more apt to say good morning.”
Angel, seemingly oblivious to Tree Spirit’s insinuation, amicably replied, “Good morning, then.”
Tree Spirit quietly observed Angel, who appeared calm and composed. After a moment of contemplation and a sigh, Tree Spirit echoed, “…Good morning.”
Tree Spirit: “Speak, what do you need from me?”
“Indeed, there are some matters, but they’re not of great importance.” Angel did not immediately voice his inner doubts, but inquired about another matter: “Tree Spirit, you seem to be in a good mood?”
Although Tree Spirit, upon appearing, had an air of “I’m busy, you’re disturbing me at this late hour,” Angel could discern a hint of joy in Tree Spirit’s brows, a stark contrast to his daytime demeanor.
Tree Spirit nodded: “Yes, I am rather pleased.”
“Is it because of… the tea party?”
Tree Spirit didn’t hide it and nodded again: “Yes, it’s related to the tea party.”
Angel: “Could it be that Liana no longer plans to create a dedicated space for the tea party?”
Chapter 1861 Hidden Room <TOC> Chapter 1863 Mission Indicator