When the cold iron hoop got stuck around my neck, I realized that something serious was going on.
Five minutes ago, I was staring at the electrophoresis machine in the laboratory in a daze. The results of gene sequencing showed that the molecular structure of the target of the telomerase activator was deviated. I was thinking about whether to redesign the primers. Then there was a sudden spin, like someone was being pushed into a centrifuge. My stomach was churning, and my eyes were filled with colorful garbled characters.
When I opened my eyes again, I was kneeling in the mud.
The official road made of rammed loess is crooked. There are some withered crops growing in the fields on both sides. A dusty city wall can be seen in the distance. The air smelled like a barn, mixed with plant ash and earthy smell, which made me cough.
"Magician!"
