He really didn’t know. Mushrooms in the Abyss were just as dangerous as the animals in the Abyss. They were either highly toxic or filled with an illusory fog that could make animals go mad. It was already a miracle to produce such a small and harmless mushroom in the jungle of poisonous mushrooms. He even had his own sense of independence.

Polly told him, “All the members of the institute have different variations. If you like, I can do some research on you in a way that won’t hurt you.”

An Zhe agreed. He had no reason not to promise.

Then Polly Jean asked him some questions. He didn’t ask any further about the mutation process. Rather, he asked An Zhe how it had been in the wild, did he suffer, was he afraid of any animals and if there were any new habits after the genetic changes. He seemed to just be an elder who purely cared for An Zhe. However, after recognizing his non-human identity, An Zhe was still afraid of human researchers. He didn’t dare to be close to Polly as he answered the questions one by one.

He also had a preliminary understanding of the institute’s status. The first floor of the institute was the hall, laboratory and instrument room. The second floor was inhabited by humans with animal variations and the third floor was for the plant variations. Mr Polly recorded the experimental data while some people maintained the equipment, some grew potatoes in the back land and others were responsible for hunting. Those responsible for hunting were the ones infected with extremely fierce monsters such as Tang Lan. As they hunted, they would lay down road signs everywhere. No one could understand the road signs apart from humans. The directions indicated by the road signs were for heterogeneous species returning home and weren’t limited to the Abyss.

Tang Lan said this place was related to the fusion faction but the people here weren’t the product of deliberate fusion. Rather, they were killed in the wild and fortunately retained some human consciousness, following the road signs to the institute. The doctor said this was a 1 in 10,000 chance.

The addition of a new member was something to be celebrated. The institute specifically prepared a welcome part for An Zhe. The main food was potato bacon soup made by a small tree heterogeneous.

“Do you like to drink potatoes?” The man scooped the soup into a bowl and handed it to An Zhe. His voice was slightly hoarse, like rough bark rubbing together.

An Zhe reached for the bowl of hot soup. He blew it and the warm white mist covered his face.

“I like it. Thank you,” he said.

“Then I’ll make it tomorrow.” The man looked at him. “How old are you?”

“19 years old.”

“Then call me Uncle. You are around the same age as my son. He lives in District 7. Where do you live?”

“District 6.”