Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Synapse Hall

“Hurry up, our location isn’t close to the central zone. Try to get there before midnight,” Ji Cheng said, stepping over a patch of shifting sand.

“We’re moving as fast as we can. Turn left ahead,” Zhang Lingfei’s voice sounded from behind.

They were indeed fast.

Ji Cheng led at the front, scanning the area and occasionally pressing his earpiece to mutter a few words.

“Ji Cheng, why are you contacting those people from Anxi City?” Behind him, Zhang Jing’e, with her shoulder-length hair and quiet demeanor like a high school student, spoke up.

“Maybe he wants to defect to them,” came the voice of Zhang Lingfei, who was checking her wrist map and giving directions.

Luo Rao, on the other hand, was nestled comfortably in Ji Cheng’s arm; as a regular gene prototype injector, she couldn’t keep up with the three empowered companions.

“There’s strength in numbers,” Ji Cheng replied without turning his head.

The four continued down the passage, threading through many ruined and chaotic laboratories. The surrounding rocks grew denser, and decaying bones began to litter the floor.

“Ji Cheng, we’re now in Corridor A13. Up ahead is the Cultivation Chamber. Opposite it is Corridor A09.”

“So we need to take A09? I think there’s a biometric checkpoint over there…” Ji Cheng glanced at his wrist computer.

“We’re headed for A09, but we won’t go all the way through. We’ll cut into Test Site One midway, and exit on the other side into Corridor A28. After two hundred meters, we’ll turn west toward a place called the Synapse Hall. That’s where Area A borders the central region.”

“And after that?”

“We’ll take the left passage to the Waste Disposal Room, then sneak into the central zone’s small honeycomb via a sewage duct. This route isn’t monitored, but there may be patrolling mechanical guards.”

Fifty minutes later.

Accompanied by the patter of footsteps, they entered a vast hall where stone clusters jutted out and a thin layer of sand covered the floor.

“Let’s stop here.” Ji Cheng set Luo Rao down and raised his hand to signal a halt.

“This is the Synapse Hall?”

The expansive hall before them was shrouded in hot, smoky dust, bearing no trace of advancement, technology, or precision.

Besides the scattered rubble, the area within sight was densely packed with thousands of ankle-high energy crystal ores, their bases buried in sand.

Some clusters were unremarkable—just rough, misshapen crystals—while others were smooth and regular, resembling obelisks or gems.

Those at the center of the energy crystal forest formed crystal ramparts, spires, and ring-shaped arrays—strange and dazzling.

“Yes, this is the Synapse Hall,” Zhang Lingfei replied weakly, exhausted from her role as guide.

“There’s already a large amount of energy crystal here. The degree of mineralization is quite high.” Ji Cheng pointed out.

Unlike most mines, the energy crystal clusters in the Synapse Hall weren’t chaotic but seemed to follow a certain pattern.

“A very high-grade mineralization site, probably formed over the last two years,” Ji Cheng judged.

Upon closer inspection, however, many crystals had already fractured—a normal phenomenon.

As they moved further in, they noticed that the originally metal walls were now grotesquely covered with thick, vein-like vines, giving off a sheen of bluish-black, brown, and ochre, as if painted with oil.

Only in the crevices near the ceiling, where the wires for data transmission remained, did any sign of the room’s original purpose survive.

Ji Cheng tried to pry off a piece of vine with his steel dagger, but failed.

These stubborn plants had completely fused with the metal, leaving no gaps; even the sharp blade left only a sprinkling of fine powder when scraped against the vines.

“Sis, give me a vial of nitric acid from your bag.”

When heading to the mines, most common chemicals were packed just in case.

Luo Rao handed him a brown test tube. Ji Cheng uncorked it and, under the curious eyes of the others, dripped some acid onto the vein-like vine.

Sizzle.

The vine twitched, bubbling furiously where the acid made contact, a gray oxide film quickly forming over the spot before it ceased moving.

“It’s definitely a plant, but with metallic properties—very similar to aberrant animals. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

Could these be called aberrant plants? He vaguely recalled that there was no mention of them in the “Comprehensive Guide to Energy Crystal Mining.”

“Never seen them,” the Zhang sisters shook their heads in unison.

Luo Rao, however, mused, “I remember hearing in class that a few aberrant plants had been discovered in some places, but since they’re harmless, have no research value, and are extremely rare, no one paid much attention.”

Ji Cheng was struck by this, searching his wrist computer’s local database and finding an entry, though it was pitifully brief.

So his earlier assumption was wrong; since aberrant plants exist, their origin must not lie with those animals.

Then what caused it?

Could it be related to the previous cases?

Ji Cheng’s thoughts scattered in an instant.

“What’s the point of studying these plants? We’d be better off digging up some of the energy crystals from the ground,” Zhang Lingfei said lazily, leaning on a rock slab. “I checked—quite a few clusters here are at least intermediate grade, and the price isn’t low.”

Except for two encounters with patrolling mechanical guards, their journey had been uneventful, and she was starting to relax.

“They’re not just intermediate. There used to be high-grade crystals here,” Ji Cheng smiled, his gaze settling on a crystal cluster’s fractured end.

“Used to be? Don’t tell me energy crystals can downgrade themselves. That’s ridiculous.”

“I mean someone’s been here before.”

Ji Cheng’s words made the sisters uneasy.

He walked to the smooth fracture, squatted down, and said, “Look at these surfaces—there are at least five or six of them: cleaved ore, garnet, cesium-rich crystals… all high-grade energy crystal ores.”

“So someone passed by, saw the high-grade crystals, and couldn’t resist taking a few?” Luo Rao bit her lip, smiling sweetly.

“Couldn’t it have happened naturally?” Zhang Lingfei pointed at the numerous broken clusters. “At least a third of the crystals here are fractured to some degree. A few high-grade breaks prove nothing.”

“That’s not called a break,” Ji Cheng shook his head. “That’s called cleavage.”

“What do you mean?”

“A break is random, but cleavage happens along the crystal’s weakest molecular planes,” Ji Cheng explained casually.

“And then?”

“Come take a look,” Ji Cheng said, pulling Zhang Lingfei down beside him.

He pointed at the crystal’s fractured surface. “This isn’t unique to energy crystals. Mica, fluorite, topaz, diamond—most crystals have cleavage planes. Think of them as structural weak points. If you cut precisely along the cleavage, you get a perfectly smooth surface.”

This was an obscure fact—not even most licensed veteran prospectors knew it, let alone the likes of the Zhang sisters.

Zhang Lingfei didn’t pull her hand away, instead peering at the crystals in surprise. “It really is smooth—different from the usual fractures.”

Her eyes darted as she frowned. “But what does that prove?”

“It means it was done intentionally,” Ji Cheng chuckled.

Zhang Lingfei tilted her head, while Zhang Jing’e’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Normally, you’d use special methods to collect energy crystals to prevent energy leaks,” Ji Cheng continued. “For instance, garnet must be harvested with the six-point penetration method, or it’ll explode violently. Cleaved ore needs the stripping method.”

“You probably know all this.”

The three women exchanged glances.

“No idea…” Zhang Lingfei admitted, hiding her face in her wavy hair.

With so many types of energy crystals, even the names of rare ones were unfamiliar—she usually had to look them up on her computer.

“Well, you all need a crash course in energy crystals,” Ji Cheng sighed. “Cleavage cutting is a quick emergency extraction method. It won’t keep the crystal intact, but most of the energy stays inside.”

“It’s a difficult technique—any mistake leads to energy loss. It can’t happen naturally.”

The conclusion was obvious.

Someone had passed through, and in a hurry, quickly harvested some high-grade crystals with cleavage cutting before leaving.

“So that’s why you were sure someone had been here,” Zhang Jing’e’s eyes shone ever brighter.

She hadn’t expected Ji Cheng, with his high assimilation rate, to also be so knowledgeable. She’d heard he was skilled at mechanical modification, too.

“You’re a monster,” Zhang Lingfei had to admit his insight.

They’d watched Ji Cheng’s mining exam on TV and knew he was a bit more knowledgeable, but cleavage cutting was a detail hidden in some obscure corner of the “Comprehensive Guide.” To notice such subtle differences at a glance was astonishing.

“Too kind, too kind. The city-state deserves the credit.”

Luo Rao simply focused on the two of them, her delicate face bright with delight.

Ji Cheng shot her a look and released Zhang Lingfei’s hand.

He thought, I just forgot for a moment—could you not look so smitten?

He pushed himself up and asked casually, “Lingfei, Jing’e, do you know which teams are in Area A this time?”

“Just our team,” Zhang Jing’e replied softly but confidently. “Area A is the smallest—just a corner. No way they’d send two teams.”

“Then it can only be one of our other three teammates,” Ji Cheng mused, intrigued.

Which one could it be?

He stroked the crystal’s smooth surface, pondering. Cleavage cutting these crystals would take at least an hour, and he and his companions had set out for the central zone immediately. Could the person ahead have headed straight for the central area before he even sent his report?

And this person was in such a hurry that even for the priceless high-grade crystals, they only took the time for a quick cleavage cut. What, or who, had they discovered?

“It’s Pang Weiwei,” Zhang Lingfei said, pulling a long, black hair from a crevice.

That earless woman, Ji Cheng thought.

Zhang Lingfei held up the hair. “This must be hers. I never expected her, always so discreet, to know about cleavage cutting. I’d been suspecting that sly Zuo Hao.”