Breeding Results! You Call This Entry-Level?

The day of the research report meeting. Luo Yu tidied himself up in front of the mirror, agonizing over one question: should he wear the short-sleeved shirt and shorts printed with an orca, or the white research coat? Nobody had told him what one wore to a meeting... "How about this: short sleeves and shorts underneath, with the research coat over the top..." It was his first research report meeting, and as a rank newcomer, Luo Yu didn't dare be late. He was more or less the first proper attendee to reach the meeting room... since there were also people present with nothing to do with the proceedings. "You're here? Up as early as a high schooler—do all you top students run on the same schedule?" Yuwan sat on the meeting room sofa with her legs crossed, sorting through the documents in her lap, and said to Luo Yu, "Your seat is number six. There's a while yet before the meeting starts, so just wait." "Teacher, will you be here too?" Luo Yu took his seat and set his backpack gently down beside it. There was an octopus inside—if it got jolted unconscious, no one would cooperate with him later. "I'm in charge of taking notes and pouring tea for you all," Yuwan said with a shrug. "It's your first time attending—don't be nervous. Listen more, talk less. This past month, our exploration of the Ancient Grotto seems to have made some new progress." "Got it." Luo Yu nodded. After a wait, a middle-aged researcher with hedgehog-spiky hair pushed open the door and came in carrying nothing but a thermos. "Researcher Chen Zhuo," Yuwan said, looking at the man. He was Chen Bo's father. "Morning." Chen Zhuo nodded, sat down in his own seat, then turned his eyes on Luo Yu. After a few glances, he said, "Xiao Yu, it's been a while. Chen Bo was just talking about you last night." "Uncle Chen, it's been a while," Luo Yu greeted him. "I've been swamped these past months and never got over to see you. Your father and I are old friends. From now on, if you run into any difficulty, come to me anytime. If you can't find me, go to Chen Bo—you two are the same age; you should keep in touch." "All right." Luo Yu smiled faintly and didn't say much more. Aside from being short on money, he didn't seem to have any difficulties—maybe he'd have to borrow from Chen Bo more often in the future. Time passed bit by bit, and the heads of Jingyue Island's other research institutes arrived at the meeting room one after another. Seeing Luo Yu, they each exchanged a brief greeting with him. Then at last, Yu Lei, Director of the Beast Management Bureau, entered the research institute. On Jingyue Island, the directorship of the Beast Management Bureau was a non-combat post, usually held by a Beast Master who had stepped down from ship duty, someone who spent his days bent over a desk reviewing dossiers—one of the core high-level figures of Jingyue Island, in other words. Together with the Fleet Captain who commanded Jingyue's armed fleet, he was one of the island lord's two right hands—one civil, one military. "Looks like everyone's here." Once he had taken his seat, he paid Luo Yu no particular attention. He took out a pipe, lit it, drew on it once, and got straight to the point. "For the past month, all of you have been exploring the Ancient Grotto and doing your research inside it. Your institutes' own topics were all suspended, so I imagine there's been no progress on those." "In that case, never mind them. Let's go straight to your reports on this past month's exploration of the Ancient Grotto." Luo Yu could clearly see the fatigue on Director Yu Lei's face—it looked as if he hadn't rested properly in a long time. "Hm... Luo Yu is here too, isn't he?" Director Yu Lei had suddenly remembered something, and he looked over at the newcomer in the room—Luo Yu. Among the heads of the several research institutes, Luo Yu was the only one who, because his level was too low, had not yet entered the Ancient Grotto to carry out exploratory research. Theoretically speaking, Luo Yu was the only one who had kept working on his institute's original topic all along. "Xiao Yu, if I remember right, you're continuing your parents' research on the inkfish, yes?" "Any progress on your end? If not, we'll have Researcher Chen Zhuo and the others report on the Ancient Grotto research..." "You can listen carefully and take notes—it might be of some help with raising your Ground Penguin..." "There is." Luo Yu agreed, then added right away, "There's been a small bit of interim progress on my end." Several senior researchers who were sorting their experimental data looked over at Luo Yu, a little surprised, but they thought nothing of it. By the rules, interim research results, big or small, could all be reported. Generally, when a result was truly too unremarkable, the institutes couldn't be bothered to report it, so as not to waste everyone's time. But Luo Yu was a newcomer who had only just taken over the institute—no doubt he felt a bit embarrassed at having no progress whatsoever, so he'd bring up whatever little he had. Everyone recalled the director's earlier instructions... be tolerant with newcomers; give them plenty of recognition. "Mm, go ahead." Director Yu Lei nodded and watched Luo Yu with a calm expression. Yuwan tilted her head slightly as well. This kid... hadn't she told him to speak less and listen more? "While researching the inkfish, I discovered a special individual. Its ink has mutated to carry a certain healing effect." Luo Yu opened his backpack and took out a container holding a Mercy inkfish. "A healing effect?" The researchers present looked over. Inkfish ink could treat injuries? "Let me demonstrate for everyone." He stretched out an arm, and only then did everyone notice the white bandage wrapped around it. As Luo Yu unwound the bandage, a bright red wound, like a knife cut, was revealed. Right after, Luo Yu reached in and took out the inkfish, giving it a squeeze. The inkfish instantly sprayed a jet of ink that landed squarely on Luo Yu's wound. Under this baptism of ink, Luo Yu's wound visibly squirmed. A few people exchanged glances, and a moment later they found that the wound really had begun, slowly, to heal. "Interesting—an inkfish can actually have a medical talent?" A mature female researcher with a head of big waves showed a look of interest. "Though, kid, you're certainly ruthless enough with yourself, using your own body as the test subject. Hold on—why does your arm have so many needle marks?" said the pale-faced virology researcher. "This healing ink—the effect only works within a few seconds of it being sprayed, yes?" an elderly female researcher spoke up, her gaze sharp and unforgiving, picking out the crux at a glance. "That's right." Luo Yu nodded. He had already tested it: the ink healed only if it touched a wound within a few seconds of being sprayed, and it could not be stored for later use. Presumably that was why Luo Yu's parents had never discovered that this inkfish had a medical talent. Under conditions this demanding, without a Data Eye, finding a mutant with medical ability like this was extremely difficult. At Luo Yu's discovery, the many researchers nodded, feeling he'd had rather good luck—but that was all it was. Within a species, a tiny handful of individuals mutating and gaining abilities their fellows lacked was not a rare thing. A medical inkfish... The discovery certainly had value. It proved a possibility—that inkfish could potentially possess a medical talent—but it wasn't of much use. Because the offspring of such a mutant, under normal circumstances, would find it very hard to inherit the mutated talent. Even if both parents had the talent, it remained extremely difficult for the young to inherit it. Just as the child of two highly educated, high-IQ people still regresses to an average level of intelligence. So finding one medical mutant was nothing. Being able to pass such a mutated talent down stably, generation after generation—or finding a way to teach other inkfish healing skills as well—those would be earth-shattering results. Up to this point, everyone had assumed Luo Yu's report was finished. Recalling the old director's words, they were just about to show the newcomer some recognition—when what Luo Yu said next left every person in the room stunned. "After I found an inkfish with a medical talent, I began breeding it." "This inkfish here is itself bred offspring." "At present, Luo Yu Research Institute has bred 'nine' inkfish with healing ability, and we are confident we can go on to breed more medical individuals." "This is the Luo Yu Research Institute: Research Report on the Breeding of Medical Mutant Inkfish Individuals..." Luo Yu rose and handed the director the first copy of the report he had prepared. Inkfish... medical mutants... a breeding research report? What was this kid saying? He had really taken the talent of one chance mutation and, through breeding, passed it down stably to a whole batch of offspring? How was that possible! Normally, it really was extremely difficult. But then, Luo Yu had also found a Breeding Exemplar individual... That turned the unstable into the stable. It created a breeding miracle. When others bred with a Mercy inkfish, it might take a hundred eggs to produce a single medical individual that inherited its talent. But Luo Yu, with the power of the Breeding Exemplar, had magnified those odds without limit. "I brought a few of them... but since they were too heavy, a few more are still at the research institute," Luo Yu added. With that, he bent down, brought out several more containers holding inkfish, and lined them up neatly on the table. Inside the containers, the inkfish crawled back and forth, trying to stage a prison break. "......" "...?" The director's first thought on seeing the research report was that it was absurd—was Luo Yu bragging? Still, this was a thing that a single test would settle; faking it was pointless. Which meant... it was true? The gazes of the several researchers, and Yuwan's, kept jumping between Luo Yu, the director, and the inkfish. Nobody said a word, still absorbing it. "......" Yuwan stared at the inkfish in silence, half dazed. She actually knew what her uncle had been so anxious about lately. The Tide Zombie Cataclysm was imminent. All year, Jingyue Island had been buying treatment supplies from other islands, but even so, at the island's scale, Jingyue Hospital would absolutely be pushed past its limits when the time came. The reason was simple: Jingyue Island had no dedicated breeding channel for medical pet beasts, and the island had far too few of them. There were no local breeds, and the medical pet beasts brought in from outside were lackluster, their breeding wildly unreliable. In the face of important battles, medical resources were always in short supply. If this research report was true—if a stable breeding channel for medical inkfish really could exist—it would be an enormous thing for Jingyue Island's medical field. "You all... why isn't anyone saying anything?" Luo Yu asked. Not one of the researchers spoke. They all looked in unison at Director Yu Lei, who was reading through the breeding report with a grave expression... Director, didn't you say a newcomer's interim research results might be a little entry-level, and that we should show them more recognition and tolerance? So finding the stable breeding method for the medical pet beasts Jingyue Island so desperately lacks—that's "entry-level"? Right out of the gate, he solved the medical-resource problem that has plagued Jingyue Island. If that's "entry-level," then what does that make their own research?!