After returning to his hotel room, Merin talks with his family, cleans himself, and walks to the balcony.
He sits cross-legged in the night breeze, closes his eyes, and begins to meditate.
He steadies his breath, calming the noise within his mind.
Then, slowly, he opens his eyes.
He recalls every detail of the 27 Bloom Lotus Breathing Technique—each step, each rhythm, each transformation.
He begins breathing according to its flow.
As the technique unfolds, his true energy begins to recede, drawing inward into his dantian.
There, the energy gathers and condenses, forming a transparent lotus bud.
It begins to beat softly, then firmly—in sync with his heart.
The lotus blooms.
Three petals unfurl like clockwork, shimmering faintly.
From within the lotus, a seed forms—tiny and pure.
The lotus begins to fade, slowly disappearing as the seed grows into its own bud.
That bud blooms again—another three-petal lotus, continuing the cycle.
He repeats the process.
Each time a seed is born, each seed becomes a lotus, each lotus more refined than the last.
The lotuses remain colourless until the fourth cycle.
This time, Merin feeds the blooming lotus with the first level of his Ice and Fire knowledge.
The fourth lotus blooms with four petals—two orange, two white.
He continues.
The fifth cycle begins.
This time, he infuses it with the second level of his Ice and Fire knowledge.
When the lotus blooms again, it has five petals—one petal gleaming with both orange and white, fused and radiant.
He continues, feeding it the third level of his Ice and Fire knowledge.
The lotus blooms once more, this time with six petals—three orange, three white.
Then he must stop.
The true energy bursts gently from the lotus and spreads, and the lotus fades into a phantom echo within his dantian.
Now his energy flows—both fire and ice, fused and yet distinct—spreading through his meridians.
A sharp stinging sensation crawls across his inner channels.
Tiny cuts appear as the opposing forces slice along his meridians.
Then, in the very next moment, that same energy heals what it damages.
Pain and recovery dance with every breath he takes.
The process repeats, again and again, as his meridians undergo destruction and repair.
The sharp pain dulls over time.
Eventually, only a faint ache remains.
He lets go of the discomfort, his mind free now to focus on the changes within.
He can feel it—his meridians slowly refining.
Each breath strengthens them.
Each cycle reshapes them.
He stops at the sixth bloom.
His current fire knowledge isn't enough to form another seed.
But he understands now.
Once he reaches the fourth level of fire mastery, the lotus will bloom again.
And when it does, he will break through to the upper Unification Realm.
To increase his knowledge of the fire element, he begins by reviewing the first two upper-level fire-element fighting techniques he selected.
The first, Fire Sword, requires a weapon—useless to him now without one.
The second, Molten Punch, draws his full attention.
The technique is divided into ten levels, capable of being cultivated up to the upper King Kong Realm.
The first level is meant for the lower Unification Realm, the second for the upper, and the rest lie far beyond his current need.
If he can fully master the first level and begin to grasp the fire principles behind the second, his elemental understanding will reach the fourth tier.
He closes his eyes and recalls the detailed instructions from the technique, line by line.
Then he begins.
Fire true energy emerges from his core and surrounds his fist like a thick boxing glove.
He observes the structure of the energy as it shifts—its particles twisting, condensing, stabilising.
The orange hue glows brighter, denser.
Soon, it looks like magma, a molten glove wrapped around his knuckles, pulsing with controlled fury.
He spends hours refining, adjusting, and perfecting each detail.
By the time the clock reaches 12:30 a.m., he stops.
He needs to rest.
He has to be sharp—fully recovered—for work at 9:00 a.m.
He leaves the hotel at 7:30 a.m. and reaches the research centre by taxi at 8:00 a.m.
Since he's early, he strolls around the institute grounds, searching for a place to eat.
He finds a restaurant tucked into one of the quiet wings and steps inside.
After placing his order, he looks out the wide windows at the greenery swaying gently beyond the paths.
The outskirts of Nova Super City are quieter, more spacious, and the noise of the inner city is replaced by open air and silence.
In a few days, he'll be assigned a small house—one of the perks of working here.
It'll be a one-room unit, modest but private, fitting for someone at the assistant level.
He's satisfied with that for now.
His ambition is to become a Fellow within three years—a reasonable goal, neither rushed nor slow.
To achieve that, he'll need 1000 merit points, five research papers rated no lower than B, and three independently completed research tasks.
Merit points can be earned by fulfilling daily assignments under senior researchers, like his current placement in Lab No. 18.
Submitting papers will add more.
Completing tasks assigned by the federation or private companies will add even more, depending on the complexity.
It's a long path—but Merin is ready to walk it.
As the time reaches 8:40 a.m., he rises from his seat, leaves the restaurant, and heads toward Lab No. 18.
Five minutes before the clock strikes nine, he knocks on the lab door.
A woman in a white coat opens it, glancing at him with a raised brow.
"Who are you? What do you need?"
"I'm Adam Taylor," he replies. "Reporting for work."
She nods and steps aside. "Yes, come in."
As Merin enters, she closes the door behind him.
He finds himself in a small chamber with lockers lining the wall, a wooden door to the right, and a reinforced security door ahead.
The woman gestures at the lockers. "I'm Cynthia Miller. Locker Seven is yours—there's a lab coat inside. Wear it, and put your phone in the locker. Then follow me."
Merin nods and obeys without question.
Once he's ready, Cynthia helps him scan his ID at the lock, and the security door clicks open.
Merin steps through—and stops.
He's inside what looks like a greenhouse.
Plants of all sizes fill the room, growing from soil beds, stone pots, and hanging vials, the air warm and fragrant with earth and chemicals.
A smooth stone path winds deeper through the jungle of flora.
Merin glances around, then says, "How's the potion development progressing?"
Cynthia walks ahead, speaking over her shoulder. "We already have working prototypes. We're in the final testing phase."
Merin frowns slightly. "Then why was I assigned here if the research is nearly complete?"
Cynthia answers without turning, "You're the physical tester."
Merin pauses mid-step, then continues walking. "What?"
"You're both a martial artist and knowledgeable about Karst energy," she says. "That makes you the ideal subject to test the prototypes and help finalise the potion."
So I'm a guinea pig, Merin thinks—but he keeps the words to himself.
He doesn't object.
He knows better.
Voicing a complaint now could easily get him thrown out of the research centre.
And if he's honest, this is likely the reason he was accepted at all—to serve as the final testing variable.
He follows Cynthia through the greenhouse corridor until they reach a central section where four people are gathered around a cluster of high-tech equipment.
Three men and one woman, each wearing lab coats and immersed in data or measurements.
Cynthia calls out, "Everyone, come and meet Adam."
The four turn toward them, and Cynthia quickly introduces them one by one.
"Carl, Madison, Jarl, and Tony," she says, pointing to each in turn.
"All of us here are assistants. Professor Sierra is the research head, but Knox, one of the institute's fellows, is the one running this lab."
Merin nods silently, observing each face, reading their reactions.
Since Knox isn't present, he won't be taking any of the prototype potions today.
So, instead, he starts reading and asking questions to understand them.
There are four potions in development—each radically different from the others.
Red Blood is made using vampire bat blood as its primary base, blended with several herbs. It targets the user's blood first, gradually modifying the rest of the body from there.
Black Bone is crafted from a rare metallic extract and herbal agents. Its effect begins with the bones, aiming to strengthen and restructure the skeletal system.
Green Spring is distilled from water containing 70% Karst energy and infused with body-adapting herbs. Unlike the others, it acts on the entire body at once—an aggressive approach, but potentially powerful.
Pure Heart uses a parasitic organism known as a Heartworm, combined with precise materials, to reshape the user's body starting from the heart outward.
Merin listens, processes, and prepares.
A few minutes later, Knox enters the greenhouse lab.
Introductions are brief—Knox has the air of someone who values results over pleasantries.
He sets down four reinforced vials on the table, each containing one of the prototype potions.
All eyes turn to Merin.
Without hesitation, he picks up the vial marked Red Blood, uncorks it, and drinks it down in one smooth motion.
The liquid slides down his throat—thick, metallic, tinged with heat—and settles in his stomach.
Almost immediately, he feels a surge of energy blooming outward from his gut, threading through his bloodstream.
He closes his eyes, tracking the movement, analysing its effect.
As he expected, it's barely anything.
He is a Unification Realm martial artist.
This potion is meant for ordinary humans—his body is far beyond its threshold.
But testing it on him serves a different purpose.
Before it's distributed to civilians, the federation must confirm that the potion won't kill on contact.
Ordinary people may be ants in the grand structure of the federation, but they are still productive ants.
Resources.
Expendable, yes, but never without reason.
Wasting them haphazardly is inefficient.
Merin opens his eyes as the last traces of energy dissipate.
Everyone is watching him, waiting for his verdict.
"The potion stimulates blood transformation," he says calmly. "But if an ordinary person takes it, they'll die. Their heart won't be able to handle the pressure—it'll burst."
A hush follows his words.
But Merin isn't done.
"That doesn't mean it's a failure. For martial artists in the Body Forging Realm, it could be useful. It enhances blood strength and helps in refining the body."
Cynthia leans forward. "What if we reduce the dosage? Would that make it safe for civilians?"
Merin nods slowly. "In theory, yes—but it won't be a passive transformation. Their bodies will be flooded with energy, and they'll need to physically exert themselves to control it. If they don't—or if they have any heart condition—they'll die anyway."
Knox scribbles a few notes on his pad.
Merin finishes, "Conclusion: Red Blood isn't a general transformation potion. It's a martial arts aid. With controlled dosage, it could help ordinary people train faster—maybe even break into the Body Forging Realm."
The room falls into thoughtful silence.
The experiment was not a failure.
Just… a redirection.
The Black Bone potion is a complete failure.
It strengthens the bones, yes—but the transformation causes rigidity so extreme that subjects become statues, locked in place and unable to move.
Green Spring works as intended, gradually improving physical resilience by infusing the body with karst energy, but it's far too slow to be viable for rapid enhancement.
Merin suggests it would serve better as a healing potion, not a transformation agent.
Then comes Pure Heart.
Merin can feel it the moment it touches his system—this one holds promise.
But it's volatile.
Taking a full dose offers a fifty per cent chance: either the body transforms successfully, or the heart fails catastrophically.
Death or breakthrough.
No in-between.
Merin proposes a solution—to divide the dosage into stages, allowing the transformation to unfold gradually and safely.
Each step would prepare the body for the next, improving the odds from a fatal gamble to controlled evolution.
The team agrees.
It's not a perfect outcome, but it's real progress.
After wrapping up the day's work, Merin removes his lab coat, places it neatly in his locker, and steps out of Lab No. 18.