59: Metal-parasitic bacteria

"You think they're just a bunch of unusually tough crabs?"

Old Chen sat cross-legged on the holographic table, looking like a decadent emperor just returned from court.

He casually tossed a stack of crumpled, grease-stained papers covered in rust powder onto the table.

"Take a look at this. This is the research I've managed over the last three months in that damned cage, traded for with a telescope and half a bottle of Erguotou."

Su Qingyu carefully unfolded the papers.

They turned out to be a stack of drawings—anatomical diagrams and ecological sketches on the backs of packaging bags.

Though the drawing tool was likely some kind of charred stick, and the lines were rough, the anatomical structures were frighteningly precise.

In one picture, a giant crab was snapping a car's driveshaft, while a close-up depicted the microscopic structure at a fracture in its carapace—

It wasn't a calcite honeycomb pattern, but rather a tight, crystalline layered structure.

"This is... a metallic lattice?"

Su Qingyu looked up in surprise: "This defies biological principles.

Carbon-based lifeforms cannot directly synthesize such a high-strength alloy structure."

"Of course they can't, silly girl.

That's why it's not mutation, but 'infection'."

Old Chen picked up the empty wine jug, habitually tipping it to his mouth, smacked his lips when he found no liquor, and continued:

"The silt in these waters contains an extremely rare iron-loving anaerobic bacteria—

I've named it the 'Metal Parasitic Fungus'.

This thing is like a microscopic metallurgical factory."

He drew a sinister-looking diagram of a mycelial structure on the holographic screen.

"These fungi parasitize the crevices of the crab's carapace, secreting strong acids to dissolve surrounding scrap iron, 'eating' the metal ions.

Then, during their metabolic process, they 'plate' pure metallic elements layer by layer onto the host's shell."

A fanatical gleam shone in Old Chen's eyes.

As if he were discussing not a disgusting parasite, but a great invention.

"It's a perfect symbiotic relationship.

The crabs provide a mobile carrier and protection, the fungi provide impregnable alloy armor.

Those so-called 'Iron-Eating Crabs' are essentially living, breathing, self-repairing heavy tanks."

Jiang Ran looked at the scribbled notes, his gaze gradually deepening.

He had originally thought this operation was just to repair a crack in the reactor, a simple hunt.

But Old Chen's words instantly elevated the strategic level of the entire affair.

If this 'biological metallurgy' technology could be mastered by the black iron... "Can this fungus be transplanted?"

Jiang Ran suddenly asked, striking at the heart of the matter.

Old Chen was stunned for a moment, then grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth:

"That depends on whether you have the skill to bring back a live sample.

Dead shells are useless; the fungal colony goes dormant once separated from the host.

To make use of them, you need to catch them alive, or at least... with fresh, warm flesh."

"Transplant?"

Old Chen acted as if he'd heard some far-fetched fantasy.

He was about to mock, but when he saw the utterly unperturbed look in Jiang Ran's eyes, his laughter caught in his throat.

He suddenly realized that this young man before him wasn't being fanciful, but was conducting a cool, almost cruel, cost-benefit analysis.

Ignoring Old Chen's reaction, Jiang Ran turned to look at the main screen.

It displayed the black iron's real-time data, the most glaring item being hull corrosion.

"The current average hull corrosion rate has reached 12%.

Especially in areas below the waterline, the protective coating is peeling off at five times the normal rate in these highly acidic waters."

Jiang Ran's finger slid over the red alert zone on the screen: "At this rate, even if we fix the reactor, we won't last six months of deep-dive operations.

This red water is like a slow poison, gradually melting our bones."

But now, the antidote was right before their eyes.

If this 'Metal Parasitic Fungus' could truly decompose scrap iron and restructure it into acid-resistant, high-strength alloy as Old Chen claimed.

Then it wasn't just a lifesaver for the reactor; it was the key to the black iron's evolution.

"zero, run a model."

Jiang Ran spoke rapidly: "Assume we can extract a high-concentration active liquid from this fungal colony.

And spray it as a 'biological coating' onto the black iron's outer armor, inducing growth with a magnetohydrodynamic electric field. What would the result be?"

"Running biological metallurgy simulation..."

A few seconds later, a strange change occurred in the black iron's model on the screen.

The originally pitted, rust-stained hull was now covered in a new shell with a dark, bluish metallic sheen.

"Simulation result: If symbiotic induction is successful, hull surface hardness will increase by 300%,

Acid corrosion resistance elevated to 'immune' level.

Additionally, this biological coating possesses self-repair functionality, and the maximum water pressure depth it can withstand will extend to... 1500 meters."

Seeing this data, even the usually calm Su Qingyu drew a sharp breath.

1500 meters.

In this world, that meant the true 'Abyss'.

It meant they could dive into those old era undersea cities no one had ever set foot in, to scavenge the top-tier technological legacies sealed away by time.

This was no longer mere repair; it was a qualitative leap from 'barely surviving' to 'species evolution'.

"Hear that, old man."

Jiang Ran turned around, looking at the dumbfounded Old Chen, a confident smirk curling at the corner of his mouth:

"I originally just wanted to go pick up a patch from that junkyard, but now, I'm going to bring the entire 'metal factory' back."

"If those crabs can wear this armor, then my ship can wear it too."

The change in the mission's nature meant a complete overhaul of the preparations.

The heavy high-explosive mines originally intended for bombardment were taken off.

Replacing them was a series of bizarre equipment that looked like a cross between torture devices and precision surgical tools.

Su Qingyu stood before the workbench, carefully sliding a test tube glowing with a faint blue light into a cryogenic storage container.

"This is a high-concentration cellular activity maintenance fluid, typically used for emergency treatment of critically injured patients."

She said without turning her head, picking up a modified, chainsaw-like miniature cutter:

"But now, I'm going to use it to preserve a few crab shells."

Beside her, rows of special 'surgical instruments' were undergoing final adjustments:

high-frequency vibration scalpels—

Used to cut through the chitinous alloy armor without damaging the internal fungal structure;

liquid nitrogen freezing spray—

Used to instantly freeze wounds, preventing the target from secreting corrosive acid during dismemberment;

And several thick anesthetic gun barrels, loaded not with ordinary anesthetics, but with neurotoxin potent enough to knock out a mutated whale.

"The line between doctor and repairman is getting blurrier."

Jiang Ran was inspecting the mounting points on his mech arm.

He removed the original grenade launcher, replacing it with a massive hydraulic capture clamp.

"This is no ordinary surgery."

Su Qingyu adjusted the cutter's frequency; the piercing whine made one's teeth ache:

"We're facing a group of living creatures clad in tank armor.

To extract viable fungal colonies,

we must peel off that 'skin' while they're alive, even at their peak metabolic activity."

She turned around, pushing a heavy silver metal case towards Jiang Ran.

"This is the sample collection case. It has an independent life-support system."

Remember, I want the shell 'alive'.

If the crab dies, the fungal colony will sense the host's death and immediately go dormant or even self-dissolve. Then what we bring back will just be a pile of scrap metal.

Jiang Ran took the case and hung it on the back of the mech's waist.

Its hefty weight reminded him that this was no longer a simple hunt.

It was a 'field biology expedition' performed while dancing on the edge of a blade.

Surrounded by hundreds, even thousands, of steel monsters wielding hydraulic shears.

Not only must he survive, but he must also pin down the strongest one among them and perform a delicate 'skin-peeling surgery' on it.

This level of madness truly matched the black iron's current style.

'Don't worry.'

The faceplate closed, hiding Jiang Ran's utterly placid eyes, leaving only the electronic voice echoing in the air:

'I'll bring you back the freshest sample, guaranteed with the parasitic fungus on it still breathing.'

'What about the best route map into the Shipwreck?'

Jiang Ran stood at the airlock door. Over his black heavy-duty exoskeleton, he had mounted a set of deep-dive propulsion units.

He looked back at Old Chen, who was still lounging in the command chair, and calmly demanded the intel.

'Don't ask me.'

Old Chen didn't even bother to lift an eyelid.

Shaking the bottle of 95% medical-grade alcohol he had just swiped from the infirmary, he mixed it with half a cup of cold boiled water and drank with relish:

'I'm a nuclear physicist, not an underwater surveyor.'

'I've only seen that place roughly through a telescope.'

'As for which path inside leads to the crab nest and which leads to a dead end, that's something you soldiers should worry about.'

He put on a rascally 'none-of-my-business' attitude.

Clearly still holding a grudge over the confiscated stainless steel rice bowl from earlier.

'Since you're not providing intel, then go back to the brig.'

Su Qingyu frowned, signaling the guards to drag the old man away.

'Wait!'

Old Chen suddenly sat up straight, slamming his alcohol bottle heavily on the table:

'I'm not providing intel, but I demand to exercise my rights as a 'technical advisor'.'

He pointed at a pitch-black area on the main screen, his face twisting into a malicious and expectant smile:

'Patch that kid's helmet feed over here.'

'I want to watch the whole thing.'

'You need real-time monitoring data to guide the sampling?' Su Qingyu was somewhat surprised, thinking the old man had finally found his conscience.

'Guide? Guide my ass.'

Old Chen let out a grating, strange laugh. Pointing at the screen with his crippled hand, his eyes held a chilling glint of schadenfreude:

'I want to see how you all die.'

He acted like a perverse viewer waiting for a horror movie, even propping his feet up on the console and adjusting into a comfortable position.

'That's thousands of starving Iron-Eating Crabs. Their pincers can cut through two-centimeter-thick steel plate like paper.'

'I want to see with my own eyes how many minutes this so-called 'Tyrant' mech can last in that meat grinder before being torn apart.'

'Tsk tsk, that scene must be spectacular. It's rare entertainment in this wasteland.'

The atmosphere in the cockpit instantly froze.

Several crew members clenched their fists in anger, wishing they could throw the old bastard into the water to feed the fish right now.

However, Jiang Ran's utterly placid voice came through the comm channel.

'Grant it.'

'But, boss...'

'Let him watch.'

Jiang Ran's voice was cold as steel: 'Since he wants to watch the show, let him keep his eyes wide open.'

'After all, when I come back with the goods, he'll still have to work for me.'

'Letting him see the boss's capabilities now might help correct his work attitude later.'

*Bzzzt—*

With a light electric crackle, a first-person tactical view popped up on the main screen.

The image was slightly shaky, with data streams at the edges, showing Jiang Ran stepping into the diving lock chamber.

'Hah, quite the big talker.'

Old Chen watched the screen, tilting his head back to take a swig of the throat-burning alcohol, a sinister gleam flashing in his eyes:

'Fine, then I'll wait to collect your corpse.'

'Remember, if your guts get snipped, scream nice and loud. It'll go well with my drink.'

As the airlock finished flooding, a suffocating sense of claustrophobia instantly enveloped him.

'Dive.'

Jiang Ran pushed the control stick.

The thrusters on his back switched to low-power silent mode, pushing the heavy mech into the turbid, blood-red river water.

The beam of the powerful searchlight, like a lightsaber, barely pierced the surrounding darkness, thick as broth.

As depth increased, the surroundings gradually became bizarre and fantastical.

It was the wreckage of the old era.

Huge shipping containers lay scattered on the riverbed like building blocks, covered in silt and red fungal mats.

Occasionally, one or two mutated Long-Jawed Fish, startled by the light, would thrash their deformed bodies against the mech's hull with a dull thud.

'Sonar contact, three hundred meters. That's a big one.'

zero's alert had just sounded when a massive, mountain-like black shadow began to take shape in the murky water.

It was a Giant Roll-on/Roll-off Car Carrier with a displacement of over fifty thousand tons.

It lay capsized in a deep trench on the riverbed, its huge hull torn open by a terrifying gash from impact and explosion.

Like a whale with its belly sliced open.

Countless brand-new cars, undelivered, had spilled out, scattering across the riverbed for hundreds of meters.

It was a veritable underwater 'car city'.

However, this city had now become a monster's nest.

Those once-gleaming cars were now riddled with holes from being gnawed.

Car doors, hoods, chassis—everywhere showed gaps torn open by brute force.

Piled together, they formed an intricate metal maze.

'Listen to that sound. Truly music to the ears.'

Old Chen's gleeful voice came through the comm channel. He had obviously also heard the audio feedback from the sonar.

It wasn't the sound of ordinary underwater creatures.

*Crunch... squeak... clang...* That was the sound of countless pieces of metal grinding, colliding, and scraping against each other.

Like thousands of rusty knives frantically cutting on the same plate, or like countless tiny gears meshing and turning.

On the radar screen, the green topographic map representing inanimate objects suddenly erupted with dense clusters of red dots.

Those dots clung to every wrecked car carcass, densely packed, numbering in the thousands.

As Jiang Ran approached, this silent 'car city' seemed to suddenly come alive.

Countless pairs of small eyes, gleaming with a cold blue light.

Lit up within the broken car windows and hood gaps, staring fixedly at this huge metallic intruder invading their territory.

'Welcome to the buffet, soldier.'

Old Chen took a swig of alcohol, his voice trembling with a hint of anticipation for the spectacle, 'Now, you're the only tough dish on the menu.'

Jiang Ran didn't speak. He simply silently drew the 'scalpel' modified by Su Qingyu, powerful enough to cut open a bank vault door.

Facing this overwhelming cacophony of metallic gnashing, he only replied with one word.

'Dinner is served.'