Ruan Mei’s research on the Herta Space Station had always been a secret.
Even the laboratory itself was hidden deep, deep within.
Only a few senior researchers, who had followed her on her interstellar travels to conduct life science research from the very beginning, were qualified to enter.
As for why Dr.
Veritas Ratio was also here…
It was because this scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild was simply too perceptive.
He had detected Ruan Mei’s secret research and, unable to restrain his curiosity, had simply walked in.
In the face of his trespass, Ruan Mei had shown her usual cold indifference.
She neither welcomed him nor rejected him.
And so, Dr.
Ratio had naturally become a regular visitor to this secret laboratory, tirelessly observing and documenting Ruan Mei’s research.
The “creations of Ruan Mei” he spoke of were some interesting artificial life forms.
Their appearances were based on traditional pastries from the planet Azure-Blue, as well as cats and dogs.
The cat-type creations resembled felines curled up inside pastries, the pastry itself serving as their shell, similar to a mooncake or mung bean cake.
The dog-type creations looked like shumai dumplings that had sprouted a pair of canine ears and always wore an arrogant expression.
Originally, after Ruan Mei had created them, she had simply…
“abandoned” them.
Yes, abandoned.
The word was harsh, but Ratio appreciated precision that hit its mark, and that included his descriptions.
He would not alter his judgment until Ruan Mei’s behavior changed.
But now, it seemed that judgment could be slightly retracted.
Because Ruan Mei had taken the initiative to visit them.
This busy creator of life had, quite rarely, spent her time after an experiment concluded on these simple creations, which were, in truth, of little value.
What exactly Ruan Mei had done, what kind of interactions she’d had with them, Dr.
Ratio did not know.
What surprised and intrigued him was simply Ruan Mei’s motive.
That was why the blue-haired man had asked his question.
“I was merely recording experimental data.” “Really?” Ruan Mei had no interest in answering this second, equally foolish question.
She walked away with graceful, elegant steps.
Dr.
Ratio, however, revealed a cryptic smile and muttered to himself.
“In truth, you shouldn’t have even answered the first foolish question.” Because by answering, she had shown that her heart was wavering.
And the lie in her words had collapsed on its own.
How curious.
Even that astonishing child had failed to make Ruan Mei pause in her tracks.
Yet these little pastry-like cats and dogs had managed to earn her favor?
This was why Dr.
Ratio had always believed that geniuses were more difficult to decipher than the universe itself.
He held the elbow of one arm with the other hand, stroking his chin as he walked in the opposite direction from Ruan Mei.
But just then, the sound of the elevator starting up again made Dr.
Ratio pause.
At this time?
Who could be coming here?
Herta?
The image of a brown-haired, purple-eyed girl “spinning in circles” on a stage like a music box doll immediately flashed through the man’s mind.
Dr.
Ratio considered this possibility to be not just extremely low, but nonexistent.
As the person with the highest IQ on the entire planet of Azure-Blue, Herta had her own unique eccentricities befitting a genius.
She only did what interested her, and the moment she lost interest, she would leave.
The Herta Space Station, which she had founded but now left entirely to others to manage, was the best example of this.
Ruan Mei’s research was a million miles away from her fields of interest.
So if it wasn’t Herta, who could it be?
Intrigued, Dr.
Ratio stepped back to the exact spot where he had been speaking with Ruan Mei, not off by a single millimeter.
He silently counted down the seconds it would take for the elevator to descend.
Three, two, one.
The doors opened, and the mystery was revealed.
But what left Dr.
Ratio momentarily stunned was that the elevator was completely empty.
No, that wasn’t right.
Something was there.
But it was also right, because it certainly couldn’t be called a person.
Quickly realizing what was happening, Dr.
Ratio lowered his gaze, just in time to meet the eyes of a ball of white, cat-like pastry.
“…” “Meow…” One man, one creation, stared at each other, eye to eye.
The small, innocent creature let out a timid sound at Dr.
Ratio.
Even when he used the Synesthesia Beacon’s translation function, the result was still an identical “Meow.” The white Cat Cake had a pair of clear, pale green eyes, just like Ruan Mei’s.
Other than that, there was nothing particularly surprising…
wait, perhaps there was.
For instance.
Just like that white-haired, green-eyed child from before, it had risked everything to sneak away from the warm nest of experimental creations.
All to follow after Ruan Mei, the one who had made it.
It wanted—to be by its “mother’s” side.
Upon closer inspection, the Cat Cake before him really did resemble that child.
Of course, it wasn’t the inheritor of anyone’s emotions.
It was simply a newly born life that had chosen the same path as the boy.
Could it be that the reason Ruan Mei had gone to visit those creations was because of this little one, born by accident?
For a moment, Dr.
Ratio found the idea absurd.
But he had to admit, under an emotional analysis, it was indeed the most likely answer.
However, “emotional” was not a word that suited Ruan Mei.
At least, not the Ruan Mei of today.
Taking advantage of the tall, book-holding man’s moment of contemplation, the white, green-eyed Cat Cake waddled forward, carefully trying not to make a sound as it attempted to slip past him.
It moved just as it had earlier in the deep, dark corridors, when it had snuck past those terrifying True Sting Bugs.
But how could a foolish True Sting Bug possibly compare to Dr.
Veritas Ratio?
Before the Cat Cake could even take half a step, Dr.
Ratio bent down, snatched it up, and held it level before his face.
“Meow, meow!!” No matter how much the Cat Cake struggled, he did not loosen his grip.
“I cannot allow you to repeat the same mistake.” “Believe me, you will not find the answer you seek.” “Not until that person has a full awakening, a full reckoning of her regrets.” The telepathic effect of the Synesthesia Beacon allowed the Cat Cake to understand Dr.
Ratio’s words.
So, in the Cat Cake’s eyes at this moment…
This tall human was standing before it, “meowing” incessantly in a language it could understand!
Hiss…
why is that suddenly kind of cute?
But that thought must absolutely not be revealed in front of Dr.
Ratio.
Otherwise, it would never pass his pop quizzes again!
Zeroes!
All zeroes!
And so, Dr.
Ratio tentatively took in the runaway white Cat Cake.
He thought carefully about the relationship between himself and the Cat Cake.
First, they were not peers.
Second, he was not its teacher.
Nor did Dr.
Ratio consider the Cat Cake a pet, so they were not master and pet.
The only thing left was…
Dr.
Ratio pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed in resignation.
—”Why have I become the adoptive father to a ball of cat-shaped cake!?” —o—