The old elves use a homemade product called the dreammaker, which is used to make the attached creature dream. On the one hand, it can determine whether the creature has an independent consciousness, and on the other hand, the dream can actually extract more real information, although most dreams are bizarre.
As soon as the nerve is contacted, the jellyfish's tentacles begin to flutter, and the tiny segmented claws move forward, expand, rotate, and twist until the entire incision is filled.
When dream makers create dreams, they will copy the host's brain pattern and store it in their core.
Thoughts, memories, and dreams will be downloaded into the core spiritual bone pieces for easy transmission. This is a more elegant way than simply analyzing brain matter, and this way will not waste materials.
But suddenly, the dreammaker thrust suddenly, and then a light green liquid began to flow along its tentacles. The old elves could see that it was corroded and collapsed inside it with the naked eye.
"It's interesting to actually activate the self-destruct mechanism in this situation."
Although the dream maker is expensive, the old elves care more about the material. He quickly picked up a few needles and stuck them in the gap between the brainworm beetles, and took out several black needles to stab it behind its head.
Soon, the green corrosive liquid was no longer secreted, but the dream maker almost turned into a pool of mud. Fortunately, the material was held, otherwise it would corrode itself.
"It seems that starting from the genetic level will be more secure."
"Master, Master Biltram of the Black Descendants Association came to visit and said there was something important."
When a voice passed through the gate, the old elves straightened up, and although his expression was impatient, he knew that the other party would not come to him if he had nothing to do.
"I know, let him wait."
After saying that, the old elves walked out of the operating table and came to the corridor outside.
Compared with the clean and tidy operating room here, it is a completely different world. The strange shapes wandering around and the occasional strange creatures that appear and appear in the darkness, their shouts echoed in the cave-like corridors, fighting for a large pile of garbage and metal fragments. Many upside-down, visually unconscious predators bit the swaying hands and feet that stretch out from the cracks of the rocks, and in the glowing fungus lighting, they reveal the crazy, short and cruel life of darkness.
In addition to those deformed artificial life, the guards here are also very strange. They have human torso, and their legs are replaced by wheels or track moving devices. They are equipped with multiple metal arms, and on the tip are syringes, blades, saws or other surgical and segmentation devices. The biological part has lost its color, and blisters are produced due to disease, and the wheels are covered with old blood.
They keep patrolling and occasionally clearing out those dying or dead creatures.
But without exception, all life or non-life crawled on the ground like maggots when they saw the old elves.
The old elves walked in the hell of blood and blood, like an old man walking with his hands on his back, even though the surrounding environment was enough to drive ordinary people crazy - the walls made of meat pulsating blood vessels and underdeveloped organs, and the blocked passages were more like the intestines of some kind of giant beast than corridors.
After walking through this area, he came to a relatively less crazy place where pale-skinned slaves were everywhere, most of them were spiritual races and humans. Although there was a regular and regular supply of fresh slaves, most of the slaves were actually the product of self-reproduction.
They breed like mice in the darkness in this demon cave, living a life that is short-lived and cruel, often interrupted by sudden violence.
The old elves didn't care about them, they only needed some labor and the occasional raw materials provided.
Soon, he arrived at the place where he met the guests, a warm little tea room.
The furnishings here are very simple, a huge chair that allows him to lie down, a small coffee table, a few chairs, and a few crazy paintings on the walls that ordinary people cannot understand. The floor and walls are made of spiritual bones, emitting a soft warm light.
The vice president of the Black Descendants had been standing here for a long time. After seeing the old man pushing the door and entering, he bowed his head respectfully.
"Master Lakater, disturbed."
The arrogance and independence of the blood actors are outstanding even in Comoros. Being able to give an ordinary blood actor a good face is already the highest courtesy of a consul. To make a blood actor bow down, it is something that all the dark spirits dare not think of.
However, there is such a person, when all the blood actors see him, they respectfully call him Grandmaster.
He is Urien Lacat, the Lord of the Blood Actress, and the first Blood Actress in Comoros. In a sense, he is also the pioneer of the current Blood Actress skills.
If anyone in Comoros can afford the four words "respective" then only Urien Lakat, even Comoros overlord Victor can only be a humble junior in front of him.
Urian Lakater's prestige not only comes from his strength as the first blood actor, but more importantly, as a witness to the late and great fall of the Spiritual Empire, Urian's past is so ancient that it is unsatisfactory. In a sense, he is very likely to be the oldest existing spiritual race.
From the lowest slave in the city of Darkness to the supreme overlord, everyone knows the name of Urien Lacat. For some, he is just a horror monster in bed story, while for others, they would rather the monster under the bed than want Urien Lacat to be a real existence. No matter how weird the ancestor's temper was, the entire Comoros upper class did not deny that this ancient blood actor was an outstanding painful artist.
Urien Lacat was also bound to the Comoros conspiracy system and enjoyed a high position, but he had no desire for power. His thoughts had completely transcended the struggle for power and prestige, and he threw away trivial political quarrels. He even chose to live in seclusion most of the time in order to avoid those power struggles being involved in him. Only his trusted disciples and a few consuls knew where he was.
But this does not mean that the master of the blood actor will escape the world. Anyone who knows him knows that Urien Lacat is synonymous with the nature of darkness, so that some people regard him as a demigod representing suffering. Any idiot who harms the interests of the Grandmaster is like being destined to the future by a truly vicious god of revenge. The ending is extremely cruel, and Urien Lacat's character is really unstable, and it is difficult to find the reason for any killing.
Therefore, although the other party acted very harmless at this time, the vice president of the Black Descendants did not dare to take it lightly. He had studied under the command of the Grand Master for thousands of years. At that time, more than 20 apprentices were with him, and in the end he was the only one who walked out of this demon cave alive.
No one knows the other person's horror better than him.
"Biltram, long time no see."
The Grand Master of Blood Actress had a warm smile on his face, and his tone was as friendly as taking care of his juniors. Then he came to the huge chair and sat forward.
Then a man walked in with two tea cups in his hand.
"Stop standing, sit."
"yes."
Sitting carefully in the chair, but Biltram did not drink tea, just waiting for Urien Lakat to speak.