Bai Luan could finally pick up the topic he and Ruan Mei had meant to discuss from the start—creating life that could evolve.
Honestly, after that pastry fiasco, he'd almost forgotten what he'd originally planned to do.
If Ruan Mei hadn't sought him out to continue the conversation, Bai Luan would have assumed the whole evolution gimmick was just an excuse she'd cooked up with Herta to lure him back.
But now it seemed she and Herta really had conspired to set him up—and she had actually cracked the tech needed to engineer an evolving organism.
Pretty amusing when you think about it: Ruan Mei and Herta had schemed against him, while he and the Little Black Room version of Herta had schemed against the real one—call it a few rounds of mutual retaliation.
『New anime is coming:
A Battle of Wits Among Geniuses in Love』
...
*Ahem*, getting sidetracked—back to Ruan Mei's project.
Previously, Ruan Mei had Stelle 'bonk' an Emanator of The Propagation, confirming that her replica couldn't persist for long.
Later, while chatting with Bai Luan, she latched onto his off-hand mention of Pokémon and decided to graft an evolution mechanism onto The Swarm.
Using Swarm data harvested from the simulated universe, she ran iterative simulation experiments inside it.
After countless cycles, she finally engineered a Swarm prototype with evolutionary potential—and spawned an initial version of variants.
In other words, if Stelle re-entered the simulated universe for testing now, she might run into Swarm forms never before seen—each stranger than the last.
That would certainly spice up her test runs (though given Stelle's temperament, she'd probably still pick the easiest route).
Well… at least Ruan Mei hadn't considered splicing The Swarm with other life-forms—yet.
SU-data of Lightning lords and the Glamoth Iron Cavalry: "Why do I suddenly feel itchy, like I'm about to sprout a elytra…?"
Still, success in the simulated universe doesn't guarantee success in reality.
No matter how lifelike, the simulation is only an imitation; it is not reality itself.
Too many hidden variables in the real world could derail Ruan Mei's project—factors the simulation can't replicate.
Isn't that right, equilibrium?
So the simulation only proves the theory viable; it's permission to attempt a real-world copy.
Whether it actually works…
…is up to whoever dares try.
The simulated universe only to test if the theory holds;
real-world testing have far more things to juggle.
Yet the mere fact Ruan Mei had engineered a biological evolution mechanism struck Bai Luan as borderline absurd.
That had been the single toughest hurdle to materializing Pokémon—and she'd just cleared it.
Genius indeed.
True, the evolution protocol tailored for The Swarm couldn't be used as-is; it would need tweaking to fit whatever Pokémon he wanted to create.
But that was no issue—he'd be back in the Little Black Room, as if he hadn't been there countless times before.
Before appropriating Ruan Mei's tech for Pokémon, however, Bai Luan had to craft her an evolving Swarm specimen first.
Deliver the goods, then collect the fee—his rule.
With that thought, Bai Luan dove into research on how to birth this unique Swarm creature.
Ruan Mei's view on whether a simulated Swarm could be realized in reality aligned almost perfectly with Bai Luan's.
Creating such a Swarm was anything but easy, which was why she'd actively sought Bai Luan's help.
With Bai Luan involved, any project's success rate skyrocketed—almost like a law of causality.
It sounded mystical, yet Ruan Mei's conviction rested on anything but mysticism.
She believed it because she had mountains of hard data to back the claim.
Using reams of experimental evidence to prop up an apparently metaphysical notion might sound absurd, yet the facts spoke for themselves.
Perhaps science, at its limit, becomes theology.
Still, this project was far tougher than any before; it would inevitably take much longer.
Ruan Mei had braced herself for a protracted war of attrition.
Yet three days later, Bai Luan announced, "It's done."
Ruan Mei: ?
She assumed he was joking—until he produced the actual specimen.
Even seeing it, she remained skeptical; the creature looked indistinguishable from an ordinary Swarm member, its exterior offering no hint of difference.
Had to be a prank.
Payback, she figured, for her collusion with Herta to set him up.
With that mindset, she subjected the specimen to every test, only for the data to confirm: this was exactly The Swarm she'd wanted.
She looked at Bai Luan; he was still rattling off the creature's special features.
"To prevent this lab specimen from escaping and triggering a second Swarm Disaster across the cosmos, I've implanted an auto-destruct mechanism. If it ever slips your control, just let me know and I'll terminate it."
Bai Luan had already had Ark tag the creature; no matter where it fled, Ark could remotely annihilate it.
Every fail-safe was locked in place.
He respected life—but when one life-form's very existence threatened another, he'd send it off with dignity.
If the contradiction proved irreconcilable, hesitation was pointless.
Don't preach "Swarm lives matter" until a Swarm devours your own mother—then you'll see.
What? That was your biological mom?
Damned vile Swarm, masquerading as a human—damn it, Magnetic Field Rotation, one-million-horsepower Sea-Tiger Blast Fist…
Bai Luan shook his head, scattering the wild thoughts.
He'd holed up in the Little Black Room so long working on this Swarm that his mind hovered at the razor edge between hyper-clarity and outright lunacy.
Perfectly normal.
Who does science without teetering on madness?
He'd been here before; he knew exactly how to disarm the condition.
Just pull some stunt and blow off steam.
Fighting the spiral, he pressed on, briefing Ruan Mei on The Swarm's precautions.
"Why so quick to destroy a specimen? Couldn't we track and retrieve it instead?"
Bai Luan scratched his head.
"No need. Scrap this one and I'll whip up another for you."
Ruan Mei stared at him, lost for words, and finally just nodded.
Soon everything had been covered.
"That's about it, Miss Ruan Mei. Any questions?"
Regarding The Swarm itself, she had none.
Every foreseeable—and unforeseeable—detail had been handled.
As always, he proved an exceptionally reliable assistant.
But she did have a question—one entirely unrelated to The Swarm.
You only took three days.
Three days to leap from theory to reality, delivering results I'd assumed would take months of grueling work.
Yet why does the you standing here now sound as though every last spark of energy has burned to ash, your voice still smoldering like dying embers?
Are you okay?