Chapter 245 Distillation and Drying

A Leman Rust tank was driving on the dilapidated highway, its tracks squeaking as they rolled over the gravel.

The armor on the front of the vehicle was slightly deformed, and all the guns had varying degrees of damage. There were either marks or dents on the body and turret, and the lumberjack on the turret hatch was also drooping.

This is a badly damaged tank.

"Chi——"

Brakes squeaked and the tank stopped.

The armored vehicle being towed behind him was pushed forward by inertia, and the hook made a noise as it pushed against the vehicle.

The side hatch opened, and the Space Marines and three Minions in protective suits walked out one after another.

Fu Qinghai lowered his head and glanced at Chen Xinlu.

Through the transparent mask of the protective suit, Chen Xinlu's face did not look good. Salt grains formed by dried sweat were stuck on her face. A few strands of messy black hair stuck to her temples, and her lips were a little cracked.

"Dehydrated?"

Fu Qinghai asked.

Chen Xinlu nodded:

"Maybe a little."

If they could choose to end this reincarnation mission called "Survival" at this moment, Fu Qinghai would agree without hesitation, because they had earned enough assimilation points, which were at least worth the price of assimilating tanks and armored vehicles.

Except for the main gun shell that was only used once, the heavy and ordinary bombs were all used up, and the promethium reserves were also very low.

The result was that all the zombie monsters attracted by the vibration and noise of the tanks turned into nutrients in the swamp.

Fu Qinghai squatted beside a puddle of water on the side of the road. He reached out and scooped up a handful of clear water. The water flowed down through the gaps in his gauntlet, reflecting a sparkling luster in the sunlight.

It turns out that the water purification tablets distributed in the Imperial Guard CPR are completely ineffective against polluted water bodies. Not only can they not adjust the pH value, but it is also questionable whether they can purify the various viruses remaining in it.

The entire My Little Pony crew is now faced with another problem: there is no water to drink.

Fu Qinghai turned to Jiang Yixia and said,

"Bring all the empty bottles and cans here."

Since the water purification tablets were useless, Fu Qinghai had to resort to another ancient method.

Jiang Yixia brought over a pile of bottles and jars, and a sensitive robotic arm stretched out from behind Fu Qinghai. After a little cutting, processing and splicing, a complete set of simple solar distillation equipment made of transparent plastic and transparent glass was formed.

The condenser tubes for distillation are made from discarded bullet shells. The condensed distilled water may have a smell of iron slag and propellant, but it is better than drinking the virus water directly.

Fu Qinghai filled the bottle with water, stood up and said to the three women:

"Go back to the shade of the carriage."

After saying that, Fu Qinghai walked towards the mangroves in the swamp, looking for some tidal flat plants with relatively sturdy branches. These plants that have adapted to the acid rain swamps have shiny leaves and twisted and thick trunks.

Even without considering mutations, there are many known viruses that can infect plants, including the Progenitor virus, T-Veronica virus and Ouroboros virus. Fu Qinghai certainly didn't want to eat the leaves. He pulled out the Blue Fang Chainsaw Sword, quickly cut down a large pile of wood, and moved it back to the tank.

Fu Qinghai turned an abandoned oil drum that had once contained promethium upside down on the ground and stuffed it with fresh wood cores. He sealed the oil drum with a welding torch, leaving only the opening of the condenser. A condenser was buried underground. He asked Li Xingxian to use the remaining spell materials to cast a fire wall spell. As the flames continued to smolder the oil drum, tar (heavy oil) and resin (light oil) gradually dripped out of the condenser.

And a lot of charcoal leftovers.

There was no dry firewood in the swamp, so the fire wall technique was needed as the source of fire for the first round of burning. After that, charcoal could be used as fuel. By repeating this operation, Fu Qinghai soon obtained a large bucket full of clear and turbid mixed wood oil.

A simple sunshade made of waterproof felt was set up in front of the tank. Three women hid under the shed, drinking distilled water in small sips. They were a little surprised to see Fu Qinghai get a large barrel of fuel after all the hard work.

If "distillation" is still within the scope of their understanding, "dry distillation" is a bit far away from the lives of most people.

"A simple dry distillation process, junior high school chemistry."

Fu Qinghai poured a full bucket of wooden oil into the tank's fuel tank and said.

Multi-fuel engines are said to be able to burn anything, but we also have to consider the issue of calorific value, that is, the quality of the fuel. Of course, the corpses of zombies can also be burned.

However, the calorific value of protein is not high. The calorific value of one gram of protein is only 20 joules, while the calorific value of one gram of alcohol is 30 kilojoules. Only fat in a normal animal's body is worth burning, but it is impossible to really stuff a corpse into the engine. The heat generated by the burning corpse is not enough to keep up with the power consumed by transporting the corpse. Those non-combustible residues, such as ashes, will also block the operation of the engine.

Note that water has no calorific value.

Leman Rustam wasn't yet so good at running away even when he was peeing.

The only vehicle that can actually run even when peeing is the UNSC's Warthog transport in the Halo universe.

The Warthog series of vehicles do not boil water directly. The core technology - the Graf/Hauptmann solar/salt water engine, is based on the principle of using solar energy and catalysts to decompose water into hydrogen and oxygen, and then the engine burns the hydrogen. The fundamental source of energy is the sun. In other words, if it is on a planet without a star, the Warthog troop carrier cannot run by just peeing.

"While I don't know what the magical solution is, I know what the scientific solution is."

Fu Qinghai clapped his hands:

"Get in the car."

Li Xingxian pulled the corner of his mouth:

"Heh, look at how he pretends. In the beginning, he still had to rely on my Fire Wall Technique. Don't you think so, Axia?"

After Li Xingxian finished speaking, he expected agreement from his teammates, but when he turned around, he saw Jiang Yixia's eyes were bright, and he seemed to agree with Fu Qinghai's words.

Li Xingxian thought: Okay, just pretend I didn't say anything.

…

Finally, the tank, dragging the armored vehicle, creaked to the entrance of the valley.

"Why don't you just come to Shelter 79 to get supplies?"

Jiang Yixia turned his head and asked.

"Because I have a bad feeling about this place."

Fu Qinghai looked at the rusty iron plate on the side of the road, his eyes serious and he spoke in a deep voice.

The feeling of warning from the Force is always intermittent, and Fu Qinghai has trouble explaining it.

"You guys stay in the car, I'll go find out what's going on."

After saying this, Fu Qinghai walked out of the car, checked his equipment, and walked into the valley.

Behind him, the flying backpack flew into the sky with a whoosh, dragging a tail flame, and turned on the automatic circling cruise mode, quietly disappearing above the clouds.

The valley is surrounded by lush vegetation and a pleasant climate.

Fu Qinghai walked in and felt that this place was completely different from the cruel and harsh biochemical swamp and city ruins outside.

It's like a paradise in a biochemical apocalypse.

"Something's wrong."

Fu Qinghai muttered to himself.

He had only seen one shelter so far, Shelter 109, which was a nuclear bunker buried deep underground. But it made sense when he thought about it, as a shelter like that would meet the functional requirements of a doomsday wasteland.

It's fine that this Shelter No. 79 is built on the surface, but why is there no defensive facilities such as walls, trenches and bunkers around it?

This place is not far from the swamp. If so many zombies and monsters attack here at the same time, how can the shelter resist them?

Fu Qinghai was thinking.

"Boom, boom, boom."

The vibration of stepping on the earth came.

A huge bipedal walking mecha nearly five meters long came from the other side of the valley. The man in the baseball cap sitting in the semi-open driver's seat turned around and saw Fu Qinghai, his expression was stunned:

"Hey, new here?"

Fu Qinghai was also stunned:

"Huh, SCV?"

The man nodded and laughed,

"Yes, the classic T-280."

He gripped the joystick, raised the utility clamp in his hand, which held an I-beam, waved it twice as a greeting, and said,

"Interesting, there haven't been any new reincarnations here for a long time. Come with me, newcomer, I know you have a lot of questions in your mind."

After saying that, he took a big step forward and turned to walk inside.

SCV, the full name of which is "Space Construction Vehicle", is the basic construction unit of the human camp in StarCraft. It is an engineering vehicle with much stronger melee capabilities than Marines.

After a moment of thought, Fu Qinghai decided to follow the SCV and walk deeper into the valley.

Along the way, he saw many people building and working, fences for livestock and leveled land. Everything seemed in order.

People were not like Fu Qinghai, wrapped in airtight power armor. They were not even wearing protective clothing, just ordinary clothes and cloth. When they saw Fu Qinghai walking in with the SCV, they all cast curious glances at him.

Fu Qinghai looked around.

He felt that this place seemed a little... too peaceful.

Unlike Shelter No. 109, where the reincarnations were cautious and wary of each other, and would become hostile if they disagreed, there seemed to be a strange order here, and everyone, regardless of gender, age or status, obeyed this order.

This may be a state that would make people with obsessive-compulsive disorder feel very comfortable, just like controlling player units in a real-time strategy game.

But Fu Qinghai always felt something was wrong.

He had a feeling of being watched.

But he couldn't find the source of the gaze.

This is not easy for a man who is both a Space Marine and a Jedi Knight.

Fu Qinghai closed his eyes and mobilized his Force perception, and the feeling suddenly disappeared.

It was as if every blade of grass and every tree around was staring at Fu Qinghai, looking at him intently.

It seemed like it was just his illusion.

Fu Qinghai followed the SCV to a huge egg-shaped half-buried building. The driver in the baseball cap pointed at the open door and said:

"Here, the answer you want is in there."

A tall figure walked out from inside. Fu Qinghai was wearing a very familiar power armor, the MK4 Thor's hammer power armor, with the iconic golden mask and the same dark green paint as the Master Chief.

Another reincarnation.

The Spartan warrior took off his helmet, revealing a bearded face, and opened his arms towards Fu Qinghai, appearing very friendly:

"Ahaha, welcome, welcome to the Black God's Garden of Eden, the utopia of the wasteland, the legendary... Space Marines."

Black God?

Fu Qinghai caught an unfamiliar word.

He nodded. "Hello."

The Spartan warrior made a welcoming gesture:

"Please come in. Madam has been waiting for you for a long time."

Have you been waiting for me for a long time?

Fu Qinghai raised his eyes slightly and glanced at the sky.

There are only white clouds and blue sky.

"Flying backpack, signal transmission is stable."

Qingming projects a line of characters onto the retina screen.

Fu Qinghai strode into the building and said:

"grateful."

…

The simple and bright hall, the staggered potted plants, the modern decoration, the cleanliness, spaciousness and comfort, it is hard to imagine that someone could recreate these things in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

The egg-shaped space consists of a steel frame and a glass curtain wall, with all its lighting coming from the sun above. In the middle is a long metal table, behind which sits a woman in a light mint suit, resting her chin on her hand and looking at Fu Qinghai with interest.

Fu Qinghai came in front of her, and the woman stretched out her hand to signal:

"Please take a seat. Don't worry, this stool can bear the weight of an Astartes."

Fu Qinghai was not polite. He pulled out a stool and sat down, also looking at the woman in front of him.

This is a very elegant middle-aged white woman.

To be honest, this was the first time Fu Qinghai saw such a beautiful middle-aged woman face to face rather than in a movie. She was tall and slender, with light blonde hair simply tied up, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on her straight and narrow nose. Time had left some fine wrinkles on her face, but she had not lost too much collagen, and she was just the right thinness.

She has a strong bookish and intellectual air, and the smile on her face is gentle and calm. Fu Qinghai inexplicably feels that perhaps this is what Chen Xinlu will look like when she gets old.

Cate Blanchett? Charlize Theron?

Quite similar.

"Do you know me?"

The other party naturally exuded the aura of a person in a high position, which made Fu Qinghai unconsciously use honorifics when he spoke.

"certainly."

The woman smiled.

"I've read your profile, but I didn't expect to meet you here. Should I call you, Mr. Quentin? Mr. Jack?"

"Or... Qingshan Nayanhan?"

Oh, this is...

Fu Qinghai raised his eyebrows and leaned forward slowly:

"Any title is fine, ma'am."

"You are on guard, you feel slightly uneasy, you are a typical thinking person."

The woman stared at Fu Qinghai's visor and said with a smile, as if she wanted to see Fu Qinghai's face through the cold breathing valve and goggles.

"laugh..."

Fu Qinghai sneered:

"I have a fucking personality type. Enneagram, MBTI, DISC, blah blah blah, no one really believes this, right?"

"Psychology and sociology are directly related, and it makes sense."

The woman was not annoyed at all and continued:

"I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Moira Robinson. 'Mrs.' is what they call me. I used to be a professor of microbiology at Empire State University. You can call me Professor Robinson or Ms. Robinson. It's all fine."

"Okay, Professor Robinson, I think..."

Before Fu Qinghai finished speaking, he noticed from the corner of his eye that a woman walked into the hall carrying a tray.

It was the thin dark woman that he met outside the valley at the beginning. She was now wearing clean and simple clothes. She walked over slowly, placed a bowl and a cup on the tray in front of Fu Qinghai, and said softly:

"Please enjoy your meal."

After saying that, he retreated.

Moira Robinson made a "please" gesture:

"You must be very tired after traveling through the zombie swamp. There is no food or water there. Maybe you are hungry now? This bowl of mashed potatoes is a natural product of the land in the shelter. And this cup of water comes from the mountain stream. You are welcome."

Fu Qinghai looked down at the mashed potatoes in the bowl and the water in the cup and said,

"I won't eat these, Professor."

You didn't even give me a spoon, and you asked me to eat with my hands?

"As expected."

Moira Robinson nodded as expected.

"I know you won't taste the food in the shelter. What I want to discuss with you is actually another issue, about the bowl of potatoes in front of you."

"Do you know why potatoes haven't become the staple food of mankind, Qingshan?"

Although he didn't want to follow the rhythm of other people's conversation, Fu Qinghai still maintained a certain degree of patience:

"I've heard that it seems to be caused by a potato virus?"

"That's right." Moira nodded.

"Potatoes can't be saved for replanting like rice and wheat. In the long run, they are very likely to be infected with various potato diseases, resulting in a large reduction in potato production. This is almost an inevitable process. Ireland once starved to death due to the potato famine. Modern potato cultivation also requires the continuous cultivation of virus-free seeds to avoid variety degeneration."

Moira changed the subject and said,

"Here, in this doomsday wasteland recognized by the reincarnators, we have solved this problem. We have improved the genes of potatoes through a fungus, so that they will no longer be infected by various viruses and bacteria. This has greatly increased the yield of potatoes, making it possible for potatoes to become the staple food of mankind."

Moira continued:

"Potatoes have higher yields, better weather resistance, and better storage durability than your country's most advanced hybrid rice. You should know what this means - a small change can save hundreds of millions of people from hunger."

Moira's eyes moved, hinting:

"Potatoes are just a trivial example. Qingshan, we may not be as evil as you think, and viruses and fungi are not as terrible as you think."

Hearing this, Fu Qinghai asked tentatively:

"The fungus you're talking about, could it be..."

"Yes, you are very sharp and clever."

Moira nodded generously in acknowledgment. She extended her hand to Fu Qinghai and said solemnly:

"Introduce yourself again."

"Moira Robinson, head of the Fungus and Parasitology Division of Perfect Humanity, and the agent of the Fungus Master in the mortal world. Nice to meet you, Mr. Qingshan."

......

　Thanks to Compassionate Listening, Lin Bao, book friend 20190624024333883, Arctic Monster, and Catnip Tsundere Mouse for their rewards.

(End of this chapter)