Dr. Vegus's research facility was not what I expected.
I'd pictured this state-of-the-art place with fancy equipment and clean white walls. What I got was a cluttered warehouse full of old machines, specimen jars everywhere, and a smell I couldn't quite identify but definitely didn't like.
"Welcome to my humble workspace," Vegus said, looking amused at my expression. "Not what you imagined?"
"It's... lived in."
He laughed. "That's a polite way of saying it's a mess. But everything here works, I promise. Now, before we start, ground rules."
I nodded, trying not to stare at a jar that had something with way too many tentacles floating in it.
"Rule one: Touch nothing without asking. Some of this equipment is delicate, some is dangerous. Rule two: If I tell you to stop doing something, you stop immediately. No arguments. Rule three: Everything you see and learn here stays here. No running off to tell your friends about cool experiments."
"I don't really have friends."
He blinked. "That's... sad. But also makes rule three easier. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Good. Let's start with basics." He led me to a workbench that was slightly less cluttered than the others. "Tell me what you know about cells."
I launched into an explanation about cellular structure, organelles, how cells divide. Kept it appropriate for what a three-year-old genius might know from reading books.
Vegus listened, nodding occasionally. When I finished, he looked impressed.
"Not bad. You've got the theoretical knowledge down. But theory and practice are very different." He pulled out a microscope—an actual microscope, not some mental simulation. "Let's see if you can identify what you're looking at."
He placed a slide under it and gestured for me to look.
I did. It took a second to adjust, but then I could see them. Cells. Fish cells, probably, based on the structure.
"Those are from a grouper," I said. "You can tell by the pigment distribution in the cell walls."
"Lucky guess?"
"No. I read about it in one of the marine biology books. Different fish species have different cellular markers."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he pulled out another slide. "What about this one?"
I looked. These cells were different. Larger, with more complex internal structures.
"Fishman cells?"
"Yes. Can you tell what type?"
I studied them closer. The shape was elongated, and there were these specialized structures I recognized from my genetic research. "Shark type. Probably hammerhead based on the electroreceptor cell density."
Vegus stared at me. "How in the depths do you know about electroreceptor cells?"
Oops. That wasn't something that would've been in basic biology books.
"I... extrapolated? From what I read about how sharks hunt?"
He didn't look convinced, but let it go. "Well, you're correct. This is from Torr, one of your father's guards. He volunteered a sample for research."
I filed that away. Torr's cells. If I could get access to more samples like this, I could refine my formulas even more.
"Can I look at more?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.
"Eventually. First, you need to learn proper lab procedures. Sterilization, sample preparation, documentation." He pulled out a thick binder. "This is my lab notebook. Every experiment, every observation, every result—it's all recorded here. In science, if you don't document it, it didn't happen."
I flipped through it. His handwriting was terrible, but the information was solid. Years of research on fishman biology, genetics, disease resistance, mutation studies.
It was a gold mine.
"I want you to start your own notebook," Vegus said. "Nothing fancy, just observations. Look at samples, write down what you see, hypothesize about what it means. Think you can handle that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because that's your assignment for the next month. Observe, record, learn. No experiments yet. Just observation."
I wanted to argue, but remembered what he said about impatience ruining science. And honestly, having access to real samples and equipment was already more than I'd hoped for.
"Okay."
He smiled. "You're more reasonable than I expected. Most geniuses at your age would be throwing a tantrum about wanting to do the fun stuff immediately."
"I'm patient when I need to be."
"We'll see about that."
The rest of the session was him showing me around, explaining what each piece of equipment did, demonstrating proper safety procedures. It was basic stuff, but I paid attention. Better to know the official way of doing things.
When he finally took me back to the palace, my head was buzzing with ideas.
Real samples. Real equipment. I could actually start testing things properly now, not just in mental simulations.
But I had to be careful. Couldn't let Vegus know about the evolution research. Not yet. He'd either think I was crazy or try to stop me for safety reasons.
So I'd play the role of eager student. Learn what he taught. Build trust. And meanwhile, continue my own research on the side.
Otohime was waiting when I got back. "How was it?"
"Good. He's letting me use the microscope."
"Just the microscope?" She sounded relieved.
"For now. He wants me to learn proper procedures first."
"That sounds reasonable." She hugged me. "I'm glad you're getting to learn what you want. Just promise me you'll be careful. Science can be dangerous if you're not cautious."
"I promise."
She didn't know how true that was. The kind of science I was planning could change everything. For better or worse.
That night, I started my official lab notebook like Vegus asked. Documented the cells I'd observed, sketched what I'd seen, wrote down questions.
But in my head, I was already planning. How to get samples without raising suspicion. How to test formulas in real life instead of just simulations. How to move from theory to practice without anyone noticing.
The mental simulation was great for groundwork. But eventually, I'd need real results.
[Milestone Progress: 58%]
[New Resources Available: Physical Lab Access]
[Estimated Timeline Adjustment: -6 months]
Six months faster. That was significant.
But it also meant six months less time to make sure everything was perfect.
I pushed the worry aside and kept writing in the notebook. One step at a time. That's how science worked.
Even if every instinct screamed at me to rush.
Fukaboshi knocked and came in without waiting for an answer. "Hey. How was the science place?"
"Interesting."
"You gonna go there a lot now?"
"Probably. A few times a week."
He looked kind of sad. "So you won't have time to play anymore?"
I hadn't thought about that. "I'll still have time."
"Promise?"
"Yeah. Promise."
He brightened up. "Good. Because Ryuboshi wants to explore the coral forests tomorrow and he needs someone responsible to come along."
"And I'm the responsible one?"
"You're the oldest. That makes you responsible by default."
Can't argue with that logic.
"Fine. Tomorrow. After breakfast."
He grinned and left, and I went back to my notebook.
But part of me felt guilty. Here I was, planning to change the world, and I was potentially neglecting my siblings in the process.
Balance. That's what I needed. Time for research, time for family, time for being a normal kid occasionally.
Easier said than done.
[Personal Note: Remember why you're doing this. Not just for abstract goals, but for the people right in front of you.]
The system was getting weirdly philosophical lately.
But it wasn't wrong.