“If I could fully understand what’s inside the Ambrosial Arbor… could I achieve… immortality?”
A tempting thought flashed through his mind, but he suppressed it immediately.
Immortality?
The price probably wasn’t one he could afford.
He hesitated again.
The Ambrosial Arbor—the forbidden thing the Xianzhou Alliance spoke of with fear, said to attract plunderers called the Denizens of Abundance and the dreaded Mara-struck.
If this was truly an Arbor seed, would he…
“No,” Ryan shook his head, forcing himself to analyze calmly.
“If this were truly that uncontrollable forbidden Arbor, the energy would be far more violent and corrupting. But the energy inside this seed, while vast, is stable.”
He thought of Ruan Mei’s identity—Genius Society #81, a top-tier existence focused on life sciences.
“I get it now!”
Ryan’s eyes lit up.
“This probably isn’t a purebred Arbor. It’s more like… something Ruan Mei engineered by taking certain life factors from the Arbor and hybridizing them with other biological sequences. An artificial product.”
“Right—it’s a hybrid.”
This realization opened everything up.
The one on the Xianzhou was the original, pure version—a gift from an Aeon’s blessing, impossible to control.
But what Ruan Mei had given him was a laboratory version from a genius scientist.
Still dangerous, but at least…
theoretically controllable?
Otherwise, Ruan Mei wouldn’t casually hand it to someone she’d just met…
right?
With that thought, Ryan’s excitement once again overrode his concerns.
No pain, no gain.
Ruan Mei gave this to him to research, didn’t she?
If he held back out of fear, wouldn’t that betray her trust?
And kill the joy of scientific exploration!
“Let’s do this!”
Ryan slapped his thigh, deciding to follow his researcher’s instincts.
He scanned the botanical garden for a suitable planting spot.
Eventually, he settled on a prime location under a soft energy lamp—open space, no other plants nearby, perfect for observation experiments.
He found a small cultivation dish and carefully placed the seed into specialized spirit-nourishing soil, covering it gently.
Then he picked up a nearby watering can and made a show of sprinkling some water, muttering like he was coaxing a child:
“Grow up quickly. Let me see what you’ll become…”
Satisfied, he dusted off his hands and turned toward the workbench, ready to document the first planting.
He’d just picked up a data pad when a rustling sound came from behind him.
He slowly turned his head.
And saw something that nearly made his jaw hit the floor.
Right where he’d just left the cultivation dish, a tender green sprout had already broken through the soil—and was growing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Its stem stretched upward as if pulled by invisible hands, rapidly thickening and rising.
Young leaves unfurled, growing from fingernail-sized to palm-sized in an instant, their color transitioning from tender green to deep emerald at an alarming rate…
Before Ryan’s stunned eyes, within a dozen or so seconds, a small tree about half a person’s height—lush with foliage—now stood abruptly in the cultivation dish.
Its growth rate defied any known biological law, as if years—even decades—of growth had been compressed into mere moments.
Ryan’s notebook slipped from his hand and hit the ground.
He didn’t even notice.
“I… what the hell…”
His mouth hung open.
It took him a while to find his voice.
“What I poured wasn’t water—it was damn growth serum! Or is this spirit soil laced with miracle-gro?!”
It grew way too fast!
Unreasonably fast!
He’d thought that even if the seed was special, germination would take at least a few days, and growth would be measured in months.
He’d prepared for long-term observation.
But this?
Turn your head, and boom—half a tree.
Ruan Mei’s “hybrid” was…
ferocious.
No wonder it’s a hybrid.
Truly “wild.”
Ryan circled the instantly-grown tree twice, amazed and annoyed.
Well, the specimen had moved to the next stage before he’d even started his planting log.
“Little one, what trouble are you causing now?”
A voice tinged with exasperation sounded.
Ryan turned to see a small Herta doll pushing aside a noticeably thickened vine that hung before her face.
She looked up at the suddenly-appeared tree, then at the dramatically changed environment, her purple eyes full of confusion.
“I just… planted a seed.” Ryan explained sheepishly.
“The one from Madam Ruan Mei.”
“The seed from Madam Ruan Mei?” The doll tilted her head, apparently retrieving data.
“Records indicate it was merely a life-symbol carrier awaiting observation… not this… enthusiastic variety.”
She watched a huge banana leaf sweep past overhead, her tone odd. This story is hosted at g.com.
“It’s growing a bit fast.” Ryan laughed awkwardly.
“I can see that.” The doll brushed dew from her skirt.
“Should I report this… ecological change to Madam Herta?”
“Wait! Not yet!” Ryan quickly stopped her.
“Let’s observe a bit more. Maybe it’ll stop at this size?”
He clung to hope.
The doll looked at the tree—still growing taller and thicker at a slow but steady pace—and at the increasingly dense vegetation around them.
She said nothing, but her expression clearly read: “Do you believe that yourself?”
And then—
BOOM!!!
A muffled explosion echoed from another corner of the garden, shaking the entire botanical area.
Leaves rained down.
Ryan and the doll both jumped, turning toward the sound.
There, the isolated black plant—the one with the perpetually closed bud—had exploded.
The blast had shattered its own containment chamber, scattering fragments everywhere.
“Another chain reaction you caused?” The little Herta doll immediately turned to Ryan, her tone accusatory.
“This one really isn’t my fault!” Ryan protested.
“That black thing blew up on its own! It must have been stimulated by the surge of life energy over here.”
He felt his deduction was quite reasonable.
As he spoke, a pale blue energy barrier lit up at the garden’s edge, preventing contamination from spreading.
Ryan looked at the chaotic scene—the small tree in the center still radiating vigorous vitality, the black plant on the other side emitting ominous smoke after its explosion, the entire garden turning into a jungle—and facepalmed.
He just wanted to quietly plant something.
How did it turn into this?
What kind of divine artifacts had Ruan Mei given him?
“Um… need any help?” Ryan asked the busy doll tentatively, thinking his electromagnetic fields might help stabilize the chaotic energy.
The little Herta doll turned and fixed him with a look that said “the best help you can offer is staying far away”: “Your job is to watch that overly lively tree of yours. Don’t let it cause more trouble. The mess here will be handled when Madam Herta returns.”
With that, she scurried off on her short legs to direct the engineering dolls.
Ryan watched her go, then looked at the small tree swaying beside him as if pleased with itself, and sighed.
This research life was getting more “colorful” by the day.
He felt less like a scientist and more like a player in a hardcore survival sim titled “Surviving in a Genius Society Member’s Laboratory.”
Wonder what expression Herta would have when she returned to find this rainforest and the explosion site…
Here’s hoping she doesn’t throw him in with the black plant as punishment.