The senior researcher of the Republic of Majark allowed a smug smirk to spread across his face.
The competing Synthetic Magic Beast Project had collapsed under its own weight, leaving the Artificial Majin Project as the sole authority in the field.
While the former had sought to transcend human limits by splicing in magic beasts, the Artificial Majin Project focused on attaining otherworldly power through the use of Red Corn.
Refined from the magic stones of Red Demons—monsters found within the dungeons—Red Corn’s primary appeal was the ease with which it could be multiplied. By using enemy soldiers and other subjects as "Logs," the Red Corn could be grown many times over. Once harvested and properly processed, it would then be used to enhance the Republic’s own soldiers.
Of course, for use on allies, proper sealing treatments would be required for safety... or so the theory went. That particular detail was still under investigation.
"I must keep expanding the Red Corn supply for my research! I shall carve my name into Majark’s history as its greatest scientist!"
Things were proceeding perfectly. At least, they were until that moment.
The assistants returned to the room.
"You there! Did you feed the Logs? Did they still have enough life in them to eat?"
"......"
The assistant gave a stiff, mechanical nod. His movements were awkward, as if he were suddenly coming down with an illness.
"Heh heh heh, I see. A new record for survival time. But look at you! Are you two coming down with a cold? Pathetic. You lack spirit! Drive! The sheer joy of contributing to my research should be enough to burn any illness away! Go get yourselves cured this instant—and don’t you dare pass it to me!"
He snapped at the slovenly assistants and set his pen to paper to continue drafting the operational plan for the Red Corn.
Colds... medicine... That’s it! What if I powdered the horns and used them as a drug? If suppressed with the Holy Element to counteract the demonic nature, it could function as a temporary Enhancement Potion.
Since Red Corn could be produced in infinite quantities, it didn't matter if they were used as mere consumables.
"I’ll need to determine the safe dosage for human consumption, as well as the lethal limit. Humans are far more refined and delicate than those savage beasts; I must be precise. I suspect the lethal dose is..."
Ah, how wonderful. Research was delightful. Ideas welled up endlessly. And to perform these experiments, the Red Corn simply had to be mass-produced.
"Yes, let’s turn two or three more into Logs to increase the yield simultaneously. There was that lively, cheeky one... hm?"
He realized the two assistants were standing directly behind him, peering over his shoulder at his private notes.
"Hey! Are you trying to steal my work? I told you to keep your mouths shut and do exactly as you're told!"
"..."
"Say something, you idiots! Honestly, when I was young, I took the initiative and—"
Just as the researcher raised his voice to lecture them, one of the assistants lunged forward, pinning the man down with a crushing grip.
"Wh-What are you doing? Let go of me! Get this man off me!"
"The Red Corn. How do you remove it?"
"You... That voice—you aren't my assistant! Are you a spy who came to steal my brilliant research?"
Curse them. Which lab, or rather, which country were they from? He frantically listed candidates in his head, convinced they were spies, only to realize that his situation remained dire regardless of their origin.
"Answer me. What is the method for removing a Red Corn?"
"Hah! Did you think I would just tell you that?"
He squirmed, trying to reach for the emergency alarm button under the desk, but his entire body went stiff when he felt the cold bite of steel against his neck. Were they insane? Did they really intend to kill a genius of his caliber? If they were enemy spies, his death would be a gain for their nation—the realization made him break into a cold sweat. He had to handle this carefully, or he would truly be murdered.
That’s right—if they were asking for a removal method, he could use that as leverage.
"...Surgery. It’s the only way. But it requires a highly specific procedure that only I can perform. Don't bother searching the documents; it's all in my head."
"Explain the procedure."
"Fine, fine! But it’s too complicated to explain verbally. Let me go so I can show you."
The moment they let go even a little, he would hit the button and flee. That was the plan.
"Explain it verbally first."
"If I do, will you guarantee my life?"
"At the very least, if you don't answer, I definitely can't."
A sudden, sharp pain lanced through his leg. He had been stabbed.
"Gwaaaah! What are you doing? It hurts, it hurts!"
"You only need your hands to perform surgery or explain, don't you? Talk. Your attitude is starting to remind me of an old boss, and it’s pissing me off."
"I-I get it! I’ll talk! First, you apply the powder of a Unicorn Horn, and, uh, that’s right... you must not let the subject drink the Activator. Ah, it hurts...!"
He desperately tried to squeeze out a plausible-sounding explanation, but his mind was fogged by the agony.
"No, that's not it—you apply the Activator to the surrounding area. Yes. With a brush. A brush made of Boar Hair would be best."
"Hey. Is that the honest truth, or are you just making things up as you go?"
"N-No, of course not..."
Had he been found out? Was it obvious? The truth was that no such method existed.
The research into Red Corn was still in its infancy; they hadn't even established a way to safely remove a small implant. If it was in a limb, the only "cure" was to amputate the arm or leg before the erosion reached the torso. The more he tried to hide that fact, the more his eyes darted around the room.
"As a start, you're going to remove the horn from the beastman girl in the cell. If she survives, I'll let you live."
"I can't... It’s impossible!"
"What?"
"That's impossible! She’s a Log! She was used specifically to grow the Red Corn! The horns have taken root throughout her entire body! Even for me, removing them is out of the question! Don't be ridiculous!"
"Hah??"
Did these intruders not even understand basic logic? The researcher’s anger flared, momentarily surpassing his pain.
"Logs are disposable, obviously! The Red Corn has been transplanted and integrated into her entire system; she'll obviously die if you try to cut it out! Besides, she’s already at the end of her lifespan! You might as well try to turn a boiled egg back into a raw one!"
"So, amputation is the only 'real' removal method."
"Tch... yes."
"Then you're of no more use to me. Miti-chan, you can eat him."
The researcher stared. The second figure shed the protective suit, and a mass of transparent, quivering mucus exploded outward.
A slime? From the other project?
"Hi—!? Stop! What do you mean eat? Me? Don't be ridic—"
"Mogu mogu!!"
The sentient mucus lunged at the researcher's face. Immediately following the wet, chilly sensation, he felt a crushing pressure and the searing heat of acid. There was a flash of agony, and then—
Squelch.