The journey back to Mo City was a long, paranoid nightmare. Every rustle of leaves in the dense Jamaican foliage was a potential ambush. Every shadow was a thief waiting to pounce. He was no longer just a kid in the wilderness; he was a walking treasure chest, carrying a stolen, ticking time bomb of an egg and a pouch full of priceless crystals. He stuck to the rugged, less-traveled paths, every sense screaming, the heavy, lopsided weight of the pack a constant, uncomfortable reminder of his prize.
After a grueling, sleepless night of travel under a canopy of unfamiliar stars, the colossal, familiar form of Mo City Gate Alpha finally rose on the horizon. The sight of that shimmering energy shield, a symbol of order and safety, had never looked so beautiful. He passed through the checkpoint, receiving a simple nod from the Guild officers, who had no idea he was smuggling a dormant god and a geological fortune right under their noses.
He didn't go to the Guild. He didn't go anywhere. He went straight home.
The moment he stepped into the quiet sanctuary of his new house and the heavy door clicked shut behind him, it felt like he was finally exhaling a breath he'd been holding for forty-eight agonizing hours. He slid the heavy pack from his shoulders, and the exhaustion he'd been holding at bay with sheer willpower washed over him like a tidal wave, making his knees weak.
The Rock Vole, equally spent, hopped down from his shoulder, stumbled to its bed, curled up, and was instantly gone, lost to a deep, well-deserved sleep.
Lin Ke, however, couldn't rest. He was running on pure, obsessive energy. He went straight to his basement laboratory. The cool, sterile air and the low, steady hum of the equipment was the only thing that could calm his frayed nerves. This was his true home.
With the meticulous care of a surgeon, he unpacked his haul. First, the pulsating, mottled purple egg went into the most secure, lead-lined incubation chamber. A steady, chaotic hum of dormant energy appeared on its monitor. Stable. For now. Next, he placed the Earthheart Crystals on a cleanroom tray. Their gentle, amber glow filled the lab with a warm, soothing light, a stark, beautiful contrast to the volatile darkness of the egg.
He stood there for a long moment, looking at the two containers. On one side, a potential god, born of stars and shadow. On the other, the key to raising a titan from the earth itself. The twin pillars of his future.
The question was, which one first?
He looked at the corrupted egg. The "Corruption Inversion Catalyst" protocol was a long-term, insanely dangerous project. It meant hunting more, and stronger, corrupted creatures. He wasn't ready for that. Not by a long shot.
Then he looked at the glowing amber crystals, and his gaze softened, drifting over to where his Rock Vole was sleeping soundly. The path to its evolution was clear, the risks manageable. This was his partner, his primary fighter, his most trusted friend. The one who had just gone through hell and back for him without a moment of hesitation. The decision wasn't just logical; it was a matter of loyalty. The egg is the future, he thought. But this little guy… he's the now. I owe it to him. I make him stronger first.
He pulled up the evolution requirements for the 'Terran Titan Vole' on his terminal, his mind ticking off the list. Required Catalyst: Earthheart Crystal, High-Purity Geode, Active Cell Culture Medium. He had one of the crystals, a prize from a near-death experience in the guts of a mountain. He had a full stock of the culture medium in the lab's climate-controlled storage. That just left…
"A High-Purity Geode," he murmured. A valuable, but not impossible, material. You could find it on the open market. If you had the cash.
He checked his bank account. And for the first time since he'd received it, he truly appreciated the weight and power of his championship prize money. Yes. The thought was a sharp, clean click of a lock falling into place. I can afford that.
The realization hit him like a jolt of lightning. The exhaustion, the paranoia, the bone-deep weariness of the last two days—it all vanished, burned away by the familiar, sharp excitement of a researcher about to begin a groundbreaking experiment. He had everything he needed. He could do this. Right now.
He was already grabbing his jacket, the weariness forgotten, his mind a million miles away, already at the material supply district. He glanced one last time at his sleeping pet, a faint flicker of concern tempering his excitement. The little guy was exhausted, still recovering. Pushing it into a major evolution so soon was a risk. But it was a calculated one.
The evolution of his first, most loyal partner was about to begin.