Chapter 952: Cao Chong Weighs an Elephant, Garrett Weighs a Bison |
Garrett was flying forward on a flying carpet.
Garrett was flying forward on a flying carpet tied to the horns of a bison.
Garrett was flying forward on a flying carpet nearly stretched tight between the horns of two charging bison.
Earlier, when the two magic bison were shedding tears, Garrett's chest surged with emotion, and he agreed in an instant to take a look. He regretted it immediately after agreeing:
Why did I act so impulsively?
I had decided not to go!
"Garrett... you really should keep that hairnet over your face..."
Behind him, Cirilla sighed quietly.
So, when the two magic bison lowered their heads and cried, they had already, silently and without notice, used a mental skill...
Either way, once a promise is made, it must be kept. Thus, Garrett boarded the flying carpet and rushed off. He was surrounded by a streamlined force field shield, sat on a floating disc, and held another floating disc in his hands.
On the floating disc in his hands, there were twenty or thirty Petri dishes scattered around, each covered by a force field shield for wind, cold, and heat protection:
Some were shrouded in darkness, others were not, creating a black and white chessboard-like scene...
The reason for this complexity was that Garrett needed the bison to lead him to the Bison King, while also making use of the time to conduct experiments and set up a stable experimental platform.
As for cultivating bacteria, what medium, pH level, temperature, humidity, and whether light was needed?
Sorry, Garrett knew nothing about it. He was previously in clinical practice, not research. He had never cultured bacteria before and had no experience.
Even if he had, facing completely unknown bacteria would still require gradual exploration.
With the various media set up, the bacteria strains dotted and streaked, temperature cautiously adjusted, and the lids sealed, he then began the miracle work:
Grow·th·Spell!
“How’s it going?”
Cirilla leaned over his shoulder to look. Garrett closed his eyes, focused on sensing, and pointed to the Petri dish on the right:
“This side isn’t growing well...”
This round of testing was to determine which antibiotic the pathogenic bacteria were sensitive to. Garrett only had two types of antibiotics on hand and threw them all in: Penicillin on the left, Streptomycin on the right.
In the front-left Petri dish, a small amount of Penicillin solution was added, while the back-left Petri dish had pathogenic bacteria and Penicillium co-cultured; in the front-right Petri dish, Streptomycin was added, and in the back-right, pathogenic bacteria and Streptomycin co-cultured.
Perhaps a professional bacteriologist could do better, but Garrett had already done his best...
“How can you tell the difference?”
Cirilla poked around the Petri dishes, lifting each lid to look. It was obvious that the pathogenic bacteria with Penicillin added grew vigorously, while those with Streptomycin added grew weakly and feebly;
As for those directly added with Penicillium and Streptomyces, under the effect of the powerful Growth Spell, both grew robustly.
Excellent, very vigorous!
Garrett: “...Look, the Penicillium and pathogenic bacteria are growing together, crowding each other, indicating they are competing for space; but over here with the Streptomyces, there's a clear empty space beside it, right? The pathogenic bacteria aren't growing towards it...”
“Ah! So, this pathogenic bacteria fear Streptomycin but not Penicillin!” Cirilla's eyes sparkled:
“So, we just need to inject each bison with Streptomycin to cure them!”
“It’s not that simple...”
Garrett smiled wryly. He had brought 5000 doses of Streptomycin to the New World—5000 doses calculated for human use. Considering the weight difference, these 5000 doses might only treat 500 bison at most?
Of course, he also brought a Streptomycin production line. But even considering the production capacity of the Streptomycin production line, just obtaining enough syringes to inject each bison individually...
Just thinking about it made Garrett feel dizzy.
The flying carpet zoomed, and the bison hooves thundered. Garrett conducted five rounds of experiments before collapsing onto the flying carpet with a long sigh, raising his voice:
“Hey, you two Golden Eagle Warriors!”
“Here!”
Golden wings flapped, a pair of radiant wings retracted, and the Golden Eagle Warrior on the left carefully flew closer, lightly perching on the corner of the flying carpet. This time, Garrett had two Golden Eagle Warriors accompanying him to the bison: they added to his prestige and could also relay messages.
As for the Snake Woman Nierka, she could no longer use her power and was left in the care of the Red Hawk Chief...
After the previous conflict and Cirilla’s little demonstration—playing "Catch the Chicken" with an eagle—not quite, more like an elf catching an eagle, the two Golden Eagle Warriors, if not completely obedient, at least showed proper respect.
Now, when Garrett called, one immediately flew over, ready to follow orders.
“Sit, sit.” Garrett gestured. The Golden Eagle Warrior hesitated to sit and only did so on the third prompt, sitting cross-legged on the floating disc Garrett pushed over, bowing:
“Son of the Thunder God, what are your orders?”
“Nothing, just want to chat.” Garrett smiled slightly:
“The bison... I mean the herd where the Bison King resides, how many bison are there? From the Red Hawk Tribe to the territory occupied by the Plague Maiden, how many bison are there approximately? How many days will it take to get there?”
“This...” The Golden Eagle Warrior hesitated. Below, the two magic bison pulling the flying carpet bellowed long and loud.
Garrett: You stop yelling! It’s no use! I can't understand you!
Your bellows are clearly beyond the scope of the "Comprehend Languages" spell!
“If we flew at full speed, it would take about a day.” The Golden Eagle Warrior thought hard and answered:
“As for these two magic bison, they are slower than us and would take at least two days. And how many bison there are... hmm...”
He frowned again. Below, the magic bison bellowed again, and the Golden Eagle Warrior's eyes lit up, pointing ahead:
“Look! Over there is a large herd of bison! The Bison King's herd is probably a hundred times that size!”
Garrett looked in the direction he pointed. First sitting, then standing, and finally pushing the floating disc in his arms to Cirilla, he flew up to see:
My goodness, that was not just a herd of bison, but a black, shimmering river. Rising and falling, merging and separating, flowing forward slowly. Those massive heads, hump-like shoulders, fluffy and shimmering long fur...
Garrett quickly counted... One, two, three, four—no, counting this way was too inefficient. With the bison running around, it would take all day to finish counting.
He waved his hand, drawing lines with the Silent Phantom, dividing the bison herd below into a 9-square grid, then into a 10x10 grid, and then into a 20x20 grid...
The calculus method of Han Xin counting soldiers!
Go!
A quick count revealed that this herd alone had at least a thousand bison. If the Bison King's herd was a hundred times larger, it would have ten thousand bison; and adding those under its protection but not directly ruled...
Garrett touched the space equipment containing only 5000 doses of Streptomycin and deeply worried about his reserves.
The Golden Eagle Warriors had underestimated. Their two-day estimate referred to running by day and resting at night; but the two magic bison, concerned for their herd, ran day and night without stopping.
Not eating grass, occasionally drinking water, and not sleeping, they reached the Bison King's territory in just one day and night. From far away, Garrett was drawn to a sight:
What a big mountain!
A black, shining hill. Compared to the regular bison seen along the way, its shoulder height was at least twice as high, its body length twice as long, standing in the bison herd, towering over the others by at least a third.
The pair of white, curved horns on its head reflected the sunlight, making Garrett squint.
“Moo—”
“Moo—”
From far, far away, the two magic bison dragging the flying carpet began to roar loudly, as if signaling the herd. The deep, bass bellows resonated in Garrett’s ears and heart.
Covering his ears didn’t help; setting up a force field wall didn’t help; finally, he fiercely surrounded the flying carpet with a soundwave barrier, firmly wrapping it up, and finally breathed a long sigh of relief:
“Phew... much better...”
“But now you can’t hear what they’re saying!”
Cirilla playfully poked him. Garrett spread his hands:
“Why do I need to hear? When it's time to communicate, they'll come to me, right?”
Indeed, the communication target arrived. Ahead, on the gentle slope, the bison parted, creating a wide path. The Bison King “White Horn” walked down slowly.
With each step, the earth shook; with the second step, ice and snow cracked; with the third step, wild grass grew vigorously...
This black, mountain-like beast came before Garrett and the others, lowered its head, and bowed its
horns. Even with such a low posture, its gaze was still level with Garrett sitting on the flying carpet, its breath huffing out in large clouds:
“Honored Son of the Thunder God, Plague Lord, thank you for coming to our herd. My children are suffering from the Plague Maiden's attack. Could you seize her power and drive her back to her original territory?”
Garrett: “...” That’s not how I operate! There’s a misunderstanding! Wait, let me explain!
He hesitated between “jumping off the flying carpet to communicate more solemnly” and “just talking while sitting on the flying carpet.” Finally, he chose practicality and raised a test tube:
“Honored King White Horn, I brought a medicine that might help your kin... Could you take me to see your sick comrades?”
“Of course.” King White Horn bellowed loudly. The ropes tied to the flying carpet snapped, and two bison beside him, shaking their horns, each took up a rope:
“Please follow me!”
The bison charged, and the flying carpet floated forward. In less than ten minutes, Garrett saw large groups of bison lying on the ground, half-dead. He hesitantly touched the test tube:
Logically, the injection dose should be calculated as milligrams per kilogram of body weight. So now, who’s going to tell me how much these bison weigh?
Cao Chong weighing an elephant—am I going to weigh bison today?
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