Red Mist Research Institute, Laboratory 13.
Lane pushed a cart into the lab, unloading three body bags onto the long table. He let out a sigh, “Professor, the new materials have arrived!”
“Coming.”
Lawrence emerged from the back room, glancing at the ten body bags on the table. His large fish-like eyes blinked as he caught a whiff of the rotten stench permeating from the corpses. He nodded, “What about the dolphin?”
“The mother dolphin you specified is already in the tank downstairs, but it was too large to bring up. Professor, did you need the dolphin right after its death? When do you need it?”
“Not yet, you take care of her for now.”
“Yes sir. Professor, did you want to examine a live dolphin? Should I have the tank brought up here?”
“No need to move it up here.”
Not for research material, and not to bring to the lab?
Lane blinked in confusion, “Professor, did you really want to research dolphins?”
“Of course.” Lawrence calmly replied. “But remember to deliver her to my home later.”
Damn!
As an outstanding human research assistant, Lane felt his worldview shaken – the rumors of blue scaled fishmen favoring dolphins were true!
“Let’s unpack the boxes.” Lawrence said. “You’re lucky. When I was an intern, we didn’t have nearly as many research materials. Watch closely and learn.”
“Yes sir!”
Lawrence opened the first body bag. “Human male, obese youth, non-sorcerer, Level 1 ordinary material. You can practice on this one.”
“Beastman male, muscular youth, non-sorcerer, Level 3 ordinary material. This one’s for your practice too.”
“Human female, average youth, non-sorcerer, Level 3 ordinary material. Practice on this.”
“Elf male, muscular middle-aged, non-sorcerer, Level 7 rare material. This one’s mine.”
“What’s the hospital doing…nevermind. Dog, male, muscular adult, non-sorcerer, Level 2 ordinary material. You can practice on this one.”
After opening the last bag, Lawrence shook his head. “8 ordinary, 2 rare, and not a single sorcerer corpse. Our luck isn’t the greatest this time.”
“Professor, this is already really good!” Lane quickly added. “Usually the hospital only sends the institute around 20 corpses a day, mostly Level 1 ordinary ones that died from illness or old age. And that small amount still has to be divided amongst the whole institute. When I was learning from Professor Oslan, sometimes we didn’t have new materials for a whole week.”
“It’s only been plentiful recently. There’s even too much for us to use up before the ‘death aura dissipates after 7 days’ deadline. We’ve been working overtime nonstop.”
“I see, I see.” Lawrence’s mood was decent, even adding some fishman bubble sounds as he spoke. “We really must thank those foreign sorcerers. They should come to Caimon City every year…no, every month.”
“Professor!” Lane was shocked. “Watch your words! The Archon will be upset!”
“Relax, we’re the sacred bloodline favored by the Archon. He won’t withdraw his grace over some careless words.”
“But still, what if someone else hears and reports to-”
“Alright, alright. So you think I said wrong?”
“Of course you were. Every month would be too damaging to the economy, Caimon City can’t handle such frequent devastation.” Lane seriously replied. “It’d be more reasonable if they went to Feimeng City every month instead. A third of the new materials from Caimon already get sent to their research institute.”
Lawrence looked at his new student – as expected of a former human, much more devious than a fishman.
A light screen suddenly popped up, notifying Lawrence his appointment time had arrived. He told his student, “Lane, get started on pre-processing the materials. I need to step out for a bit.”
“Yes Professor.”
After taking off his lab coat and spraying on some perfume to mask the corpse stench, Lawrence briskly left the lab.
Passing by the downstairs tank, he ogled at the dolphin’s graceful figure and alluring eyes, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth before stepping into the blood moonlight campus.
Despite returning to the institute only a few days ago, they had swiftly allocated him a lab.
Although Lawrence felt he was weak and useless, his source bloodline was still top 5 in the entire institute. Thus, even though he had offended the ‘prospective big shots’ across the four major institutes, institute still allocate resources to him.
Lane was also a research assistant assigned to him by the institute. Although Lawrence was unwilling, it was mandatory for young researchers to take on students, plus there were many miscellaneous tasks in experimental research that required an assistant’s help.
Lawrence had also been someone’s student before – this was a necessary step before undergoing the ‘blood transformation’. It was akin to a ‘trial period’ or ‘internship’ before changing races.
Although prospective blood heirs had passed the research assistant exams and had the qualifications, many of the institute’s projects conflicted with mainstream values. The institute needed to ensure the newcomers could integrate into their group of ‘smart people’, not ‘model citizens’ brainwashed by propaganda.
Of course, the ‘trial period’ was ostensibly for research assistants to quickly advance their faction boundaries to Silver-rank by gaining early exposure. But if the new recruit couldn’t blend into the institute ‘family’, their fate generally wasn’t pleasant – there was a joke in the institute, ‘today you’re my student, tomorrow you’re my material’.
The institute wouldn’t intentionally break laws, but the law couldn’t touch the institute either.
Incidentally, the Red Mist Institute’s main research was on the ‘Blood’ and ‘Necromancy’ factions, both requiring copious corpses as research materials. Lawrence specialized in Necromancy, and thanks to abundant materials, his experiments had progressed rapidly in recent days. He had even summoned a new spirit, nudging his Necromancy faction close to breaking through the Silver boundary limit.
If he was still stubbornly grinding his source blood in prison, he wouldn’t have caught such a great timing. As the saying goes, fate really does work in mysterious ways.
Arriving at the bar, Lawrence greeted the snake owner, who laughed, “You are here again? Got some good new blood recently, want to try a ‘Song of the Elves’?”
“You have elven blood? What’s the ratio?”
“60%!” The owner looked around before lowering his voice. “Hiss, other than the Elf Song, I also have ‘Wolf’s Kiss’ for sale.”
Lawrence’s fish eyes bulged wide. “I didn’t hear the Church was attacked!”
“A Moon Priest happened to be outside the city then, and ran into the main force of the attackers. May the Archon have mercy on that unlucky soul…want to try it? 10% ratio!”
“One Elf Song, one Wolf’s Kiss!”
“You really know how to drink.”
Lawrence sat at his previous spot, quietly awaiting the start of the Blood Moon Tribunal. For some reason, after watching it once, he had suddenly grown fond of this show, when he couldn’t even be bothered to glance at it back in prison.
Perhaps it was because he had been kicked out of prison.
Perhaps it was because he knew he would be trampled underfoot by [222] for life, while the other party wouldn’t even notice his existence.
Perhaps it was because he had accepted his own ordinariness.
During his schooling, internship, and ritual days in prison, Lawrence kept his fighting spirit blazing, satisfying himself on willpower alone without needing entertainment for spiritual enrichment.
But now he had revived his previously dismissed carnal desires, drinking every night at the bar, even enjoying the Blood Moon Tribunal…the reason being, he could no longer derive happiness from ‘struggling’.
To Lawrence, studying, researching, cultivating, and exploring the virtual world had all become reluctantly-done ‘work’.
Because he saw his own ceiling, and knew his efforts were futile.
Facing the insurmountable wall, he only wanted to lie down and drift through life.
Ironically, when he first joined the institute, Lawrence often looked down on those who slacked, seeing them no different from corpses in a coffin, determined not to become one of them.
‘Perhaps I was already dead that night I was tossed into Shattered Lake.’ Lawrence calmly reflected. ‘Without ambition, all I have left is an unbeating heart.’
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the bar. Someone dashed in yelling excitedly, “Something happened at Shattered Lake Prison! Death row inmates escaped!”
“For real? How’d they get out? What about the guards?”
“The guards seem to have been locked up. The condemned took over today’s transport ship and escaped when it arrived. The port only realized something was wrong when the ship never returned, and after layers of reporting, discovered the prison incident!”
“Shattered Lake’s going to become a national disgrace this time. Is this the first ever death row escape?”
“Wait, doesn’t the prison have medics? Could they have also been…”
“Hahahaha, I’m laughing out loud! Come, a toast to the escapees, may they bring some fun to the Blood Mad Hunters!”
“Cheers!”
Someone else shouted, “A toast to the increased materials these past days! We’ve gotten more in the past few days than the last few months combined!”
“Cheers!”
“To the foreign sorcerers…”
“Whoa whoa, we better not casually toast to that.”
“Then a toast to the deceased!”
“Cheers! ”
Lawrence also happily raised his glass, downing the Song of the Elves in one go.
Although it didn’t concern him, Medic [222] was still at Shattered Lake Prison right now. For this jailbreak, the medical team bore undeniable responsibility, arguably even more than the guards – the guards were openly attacked, while the medics operated in the shadows like bats.
Lawrence even felt lucky to have been kicked out early – as an esteemed sacred bloodline sorcerer, he couldn’t have borne the shame of being controlled by death row inmates.
“So there won’t be a Blood Moon Tribunal to watch tonight? Boring.”
“Boss, how about starting a betting pool on the escapees? Guessing when they’ll be caught, if they’ll be killed while on the run, I’ve got a friend in the Heresy Court who can send news right away!”
The snake boss mused, “Let me think about it…”
Just then, eight light screens suddenly materialized in the center of the bar!
Everyone froze, looking to the boss, but he seemed unperturbed. “I have it set to automatically open the screens for the 8pm Tribunal. But since the show’s cancelled tonight-”
“Cut it open with a blade when the wounds are deep enough, to relieve yesterday’s curse…”
There was even opening music!?
Under the baffled, astonished, expectant gazes, a prison guard appeared on the screens, holding the Register of Sinners which obscured his mouth, leaving only cold, indifferent eyes visible.
“Greetings everyone, I’m your host for tonight’s Blood Moon Tribunal, Ashe Heath.”
Ashe Heath?
Ashe Heath!
No one could forget that name after just a few days, especially since many had been eagerly anticipating his return to the Tribunal stage!
“Since this Tribunal could end at any time, let’s get right to it and introduce tonight’s sinners up for redemption.”
The scene switched to show the lake outside the prison. Eight slender crimson pillars emerged from Shattered Lake, each with a stone seat atop holding a prisoner.
“This is Edmund Meunken, former Tax Bureau executive secretary.”
“This is Bernard Laidor, former project head of the Government Affairs Department.”
“This is Ernest Andrei, former congressman.”
When the camera focused on the last contestant, everyone watching the Tribunal in bars, institutes, churches, orphanages, and the Heresy Court jumped up in shock.
“This is Alandor Fernand Snow,” Ashe announced, “incumbent mayor of Caimon City.”
Red Mist Research Institute, Laboratory 13.
Lane pushed a cart into the lab, unloading three body bags onto the long table. He let out a sigh, “Professor, the new materials have arrived!”
“Coming.”
Lawrence emerged from the back room, glancing at the ten body bags on the table. His large fish-like eyes blinked as he caught a whiff of the rotten stench permeating from the corpses. He nodded, “What about the dolphin?”
“The mother dolphin you specified is already in the tank downstairs, but it was too large to bring up. Professor, did you need the dolphin right after its death? When do you need it?”
“Not yet, you take care of her for now.”
“Yes sir. Professor, did you want to examine a live dolphin? Should I have the tank brought up here?”
“No need to move it up here.”
Not for research material, and not to bring to the lab?
Lane blinked in confusion, “Professor, did you really want to research dolphins?”
“Of course.” Lawrence calmly replied. “But remember to deliver her to my home later.”
Damn!
As an outstanding human research assistant, Lane felt his worldview shaken – the rumors of blue scaled fishmen favoring dolphins were true!
“Let’s unpack the boxes.” Lawrence said. “You’re lucky. When I was an intern, we didn’t have nearly as many research materials. Watch closely and learn.”
“Yes sir!”
Lawrence opened the first body bag. “Human male, obese youth, non-sorcerer, Level 1 ordinary material. You can practice on this one.”
“Beastman male, muscular youth, non-sorcerer, Level 3 ordinary material. This one’s for your practice too.”
“Human female, average youth, non-sorcerer, Level 3 ordinary material. Practice on this.”
“Elf male, muscular middle-aged, non-sorcerer, Level 7 rare material. This one’s mine.”
“What’s the hospital doing…nevermind. Dog, male, muscular adult, non-sorcerer, Level 2 ordinary material. You can practice on this one.”
After opening the last bag, Lawrence shook his head. “8 ordinary, 2 rare, and not a single sorcerer corpse. Our luck isn’t the greatest this time.”
“Professor, this is already really good!” Lane quickly added. “Usually the hospital only sends the institute around 20 corpses a day, mostly Level 1 ordinary ones that died from illness or old age. And that small amount still has to be divided amongst the whole institute. When I was learning from Professor Oslan, sometimes we didn’t have new materials for a whole week.”
“It’s only been plentiful recently. There’s even too much for us to use up before the ‘death aura dissipates after 7 days’ deadline. We’ve been working overtime nonstop.”
“I see, I see.” Lawrence’s mood was decent, even adding some fishman bubble sounds as he spoke. “We really must thank those foreign sorcerers. They should come to Caimon City every year…no, every month.”
“Professor!” Lane was shocked. “Watch your words! The Archon will be upset!”
“Relax, we’re the sacred bloodline favored by the Archon. He won’t withdraw his grace over some careless words.”
“But still, what if someone else hears and reports to-”
“Alright, alright. So you think I said wrong?”
“Of course you were. Every month would be too damaging to the economy, Caimon City can’t handle such frequent devastation.” Lane seriously replied. “It’d be more reasonable if they went to Feimeng City every month instead. A third of the new materials from Caimon already get sent to their research institute.”
Lawrence looked at his new student – as expected of a former human, much more devious than a fishman.
A light screen suddenly popped up, notifying Lawrence his appointment time had arrived. He told his student, “Lane, get started on pre-processing the materials. I need to step out for a bit.”
“Yes Professor.”
After taking off his lab coat and spraying on some perfume to mask the corpse stench, Lawrence briskly left the lab.
Passing by the downstairs tank, he ogled at the dolphin’s graceful figure and alluring eyes, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth before stepping into the blood moonlight campus.
Despite returning to the institute only a few days ago, they had swiftly allocated him a lab.
Although Lawrence felt he was weak and useless, his source bloodline was still top 5 in the entire institute. Thus, even though he had offended the ‘prospective big shots’ across the four major institutes, institute still allocate resources to him.
Lane was also a research assistant assigned to him by the institute. Although Lawrence was unwilling, it was mandatory for young researchers to take on students, plus there were many miscellaneous tasks in experimental research that required an assistant’s help.
Lawrence had also been someone’s student before – this was a necessary step before undergoing the ‘blood transformation’. It was akin to a ‘trial period’ or ‘internship’ before changing races.
Although prospective blood heirs had passed the research assistant exams and had the qualifications, many of the institute’s projects conflicted with mainstream values. The institute needed to ensure the newcomers could integrate into their group of ‘smart people’, not ‘model citizens’ brainwashed by propaganda.
Of course, the ‘trial period’ was ostensibly for research assistants to quickly advance their faction boundaries to Silver-rank by gaining early exposure. But if the new recruit couldn’t blend into the institute ‘family’, their fate generally wasn’t pleasant – there was a joke in the institute, ‘today you’re my student, tomorrow you’re my material’.
The institute wouldn’t intentionally break laws, but the law couldn’t touch the institute either.
Incidentally, the Red Mist Institute’s main research was on the ‘Blood’ and ‘Necromancy’ factions, both requiring copious corpses as research materials. Lawrence specialized in Necromancy, and thanks to abundant materials, his experiments had progressed rapidly in recent days. He had even summoned a new spirit, nudging his Necromancy faction close to breaking through the Silver boundary limit.
If he was still stubbornly grinding his source blood in prison, he wouldn’t have caught such a great timing. As the saying goes, fate really does work in mysterious ways.
Arriving at the bar, Lawrence greeted the snake owner, who laughed, “You are here again? Got some good new blood recently, want to try a ‘Song of the Elves’?”
“You have elven blood? What’s the ratio?”
“60%!” The owner looked around before lowering his voice. “Hiss, other than the Elf Song, I also have ‘Wolf’s Kiss’ for sale.”
Lawrence’s fish eyes bulged wide. “I didn’t hear the Church was attacked!”
“A Moon Priest happened to be outside the city then, and ran into the main force of the attackers. May the Archon have mercy on that unlucky soul…want to try it? 10% ratio!”
“One Elf Song, one Wolf’s Kiss!”
“You really know how to drink.”
Lawrence sat at his previous spot, quietly awaiting the start of the Blood Moon Tribunal. For some reason, after watching it once, he had suddenly grown fond of this show, when he couldn’t even be bothered to glance at it back in prison.
Perhaps it was because he had been kicked out of prison.
Perhaps it was because he knew he would be trampled underfoot by [222] for life, while the other party wouldn’t even notice his existence.
Perhaps it was because he had accepted his own ordinariness.
During his schooling, internship, and ritual days in prison, Lawrence kept his fighting spirit blazing, satisfying himself on willpower alone without needing entertainment for spiritual enrichment.
But now he had revived his previously dismissed carnal desires, drinking every night at the bar, even enjoying the Blood Moon Tribunal…the reason being, he could no longer derive happiness from ‘struggling’.
To Lawrence, studying, researching, cultivating, and exploring the virtual world had all become reluctantly-done ‘work’.
Because he saw his own ceiling, and knew his efforts were futile.
Facing the insurmountable wall, he only wanted to lie down and drift through life.
Ironically, when he first joined the institute, Lawrence often looked down on those who slacked, seeing them no different from corpses in a coffin, determined not to become one of them.
‘Perhaps I was already dead that night I was tossed into Shattered Lake.’ Lawrence calmly reflected. ‘Without ambition, all I have left is an unbeating heart.’
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the bar. Someone dashed in yelling excitedly, “Something happened at Shattered Lake Prison! Death row inmates escaped!”
“For real? How’d they get out? What about the guards?”
“The guards seem to have been locked up. The condemned took over today’s transport ship and escaped when it arrived. The port only realized something was wrong when the ship never returned, and after layers of reporting, discovered the prison incident!”
“Shattered Lake’s going to become a national disgrace this time. Is this the first ever death row escape?”
“Wait, doesn’t the prison have medics? Could they have also been…”
“Hahahaha, I’m laughing out loud! Come, a toast to the escapees, may they bring some fun to the Blood Mad Hunters!”
“Cheers!”
Someone else shouted, “A toast to the increased materials these past days! We’ve gotten more in the past few days than the last few months combined!”
“Cheers!”
“To the foreign sorcerers…”
“Whoa whoa, we better not casually toast to that.”
“Then a toast to the deceased!”
“Cheers! ”
Lawrence also happily raised his glass, downing the Song of the Elves in one go.
Although it didn’t concern him, Medic [222] was still at Shattered Lake Prison right now. For this jailbreak, the medical team bore undeniable responsibility, arguably even more than the guards – the guards were openly attacked, while the medics operated in the shadows like bats.
Lawrence even felt lucky to have been kicked out early – as an esteemed sacred bloodline sorcerer, he couldn’t have borne the shame of being controlled by death row inmates.
“So there won’t be a Blood Moon Tribunal to watch tonight? Boring.”
“Boss, how about starting a betting pool on the escapees? Guessing when they’ll be caught, if they’ll be killed while on the run, I’ve got a friend in the Heresy Court who can send news right away!”
The snake boss mused, “Let me think about it…”
Just then, eight light screens suddenly materialized in the center of the bar!
Everyone froze, looking to the boss, but he seemed unperturbed. “I have it set to automatically open the screens for the 8pm Tribunal. But since the show’s cancelled tonight-”
“Cut it open with a blade when the wounds are deep enough, to relieve yesterday’s curse…”
There was even opening music!?
Under the baffled, astonished, expectant gazes, a prison guard appeared on the screens, holding the Register of Sinners which obscured his mouth, leaving only cold, indifferent eyes visible.
“Greetings everyone, I’m your host for tonight’s Blood Moon Tribunal, Ashe Heath.”
Ashe Heath?
Ashe Heath!
No one could forget that name after just a few days, especially since many had been eagerly anticipating his return to the Tribunal stage!
“Since this Tribunal could end at any time, let’s get right to it and introduce tonight’s sinners up for redemption.”
The scene switched to show the lake outside the prison. Eight slender crimson pillars emerged from Shattered Lake, each with a stone seat atop holding a prisoner.
“This is Edmund Meunken, former Tax Bureau executive secretary.”
“This is Bernard Laidor, former project head of the Government Affairs Department.”
“This is Ernest Andrei, former congressman.”
When the camera focused on the last contestant, everyone watching the Tribunal in bars, institutes, churches, orphanages, and the Heresy Court jumped up in shock.
“This is Alandor Fernand Snow,” Ashe announced, “incumbent mayor of Caimon City.”
