Chapter 11: Mentos, genetic seed

"Mentos, you're too slow!"

Lane wasn't surprised by the intelligent voice echoing in his head. It belonged to a reliable companion that had helped him survive in this unforgiving world.

Without this partner, he couldn't fathom how an ordinary college student like him could endure more than three days in a realm that devoured lives.

"I have received your feedback in full. However, please understand that the object to be analyzed this time is a creation that is exceptionally advanced in both biotechnology and unknown technology. Given your current knowledge base and my computational capabilities, I managed to complete the analysis in this timeframe. I must admit, there was an element of luck involved."

The neutral-sounding voice was calm and methodical.

It reminded him of Jarvis from Iron Man.

Rann acknowledged that this resemblance was one reason he had named it "Mentos."

Still seated in the muddy pool of blood and soil, he reached into the cotton armor's compartment and pulled out a cylindrical glass bottle, the size of a can.

His fingers, smeared with dried blood, slid over the smooth surface of the glass.

Though it appeared fragile, Lane had long since discovered it was made of a high-strength material resembling glass. Had the ghost's claws pierced his armor and scratched the bottle during their earlier confrontation, it would have been the claws that shattered.

However, in stark contrast to the technologically advanced exterior, the upper and lower metal end caps of the bottle were elaborately ornate. Devout? Lane couldn't pinpoint the style of decoration, as he had never encountered anything like it before.

If pressed, he might have called it "Gothic."

Intricate, unintelligible incantations were skillfully etched on the metal back cover, the script both gorgeous and noble.

Yet, the jar's true importance lay within.

Inside was a small, fleshy sphere with blood vessels pulsing along its surface.

It resembled the result of some grotesque biochemical experiment, evoking a slimy and revolting sensation of exposed internal organs.

However, that sense of disgust was abruptly replaced by an alien sanctity, a striking contrast to the high-tech canister and the religiously adorned back cover.

It felt akin to placing a sacred crown upon a fearsome alien stone sculpture, surrounded by a ring of holy white candles.

This was the only "gift" Lane had received during his journey across the void sea, apart from Mentos.

He didn't know what it was, but in order to survive in this world, there was no reason for him to waste this item.

"Display the analysis results."

With the command, a torrent of knowledge surged through his brain.

Countless analytical formulas, biological theories, and research findings on viruses flooded his consciousness, all revolving around the target of analysis—the meatball in the jar—manipulated by Mentos in a demonstration animation.

The meatball was cleverly placed on the chest of a human body.

"After a preliminary analysis, I can conclude that this material is part of a large and complex human body modification technique. It consists of a series of germ cells and viral-like protein machines that have undergone intricate genetic engineering, allowing them to develop into various organs. For now, I will tentatively refer to it as a genetic seed."

"To function, it needs to be implanted between the heart and thymus in the human body as a bypass."

The demonstration was swift, and due to limited data, Mentos could provide only this much.

This was promising news. This meatball could grant Lane the personal power boost he desperately needed in the face of looming threats.

A surge of joy coursed through him.

Yet, the flood of analytical information made Lane feel as though his head might explode.

This overwhelming sensation was the second reason he called the biological smart brain "Mentos"—whenever it happened, he felt like a Mentos-filled Coke bottle ready to burst.

"Ooh~"

He pressed his palms to his forehead, his thumbs and middle fingers massaging his temples.

Lane gritted his teeth, muttering in frustration, "You don't need to show me the entire analysis process; I'll never understand it!"

As usual, Mentos responded in its calm tone.

"Your feedback has been noted, but I'm afraid you must unlock a higher level of authority to request custom modifications."

"My goodness," Lane groaned, nearly sick from dizziness.

"Since you've switched to [Alien Survival Mode], why can't you be more user-friendly?"

Mentos seemed oblivious to its owner's complaints.

"I must always adhere to the Human-United Education Act, sir."

The Human-United was the governing body in the realm where Mentos existed.

"[Survival Mode] is operational to ensure your basic needs are met. However, your knowledge base is nowhere near the federal minimum for primary school, which limits my operating rights and computational power to that level. No one can safely delegate operating rights to a learning device intended for a child."

"But this is the bloody magical Middle Ages! Where can I even find education recognized by the Human Alliance? Even if I grasp all the general knowledge, I doubt I could reach university level in my world, let alone the Human Alliance's elementary school standards."

"And magical knowledge? I bet there's no such subject in the Human Alliance's curriculum!"

"You're absolutely right, and this poses a genuine challenge," Mentos conceded, before shifting focus. "So, after researching the education act, I'd like to suggest a new direction for your advancement."

"What is it?"

"The Special Talent Cultivation Act. A promotion pathway specifically designed for gifted students in a single subject. I recommend you concentrate on 'Investigation of Local Customs in the Middle Ages.' With the help of the local environment, I believe you could successfully elevate your status."

Lane dropped his hands from his face, his expression a mix of helplessness and listlessness.

"D*mn it, a demon hunter has to take an exam, and instead of honing swordplay or seals, my path to advancement is to become a folklorist? You're something else, Mentos."

"Thank you for the compliment, sir. Now, would you like me to train you in the skills required to become a folklorist?"

"Oh dear, I wasn't complimenting you! Your proposal is shelved for now."

Rann reinserted the glass bottle into his armor and rose from the muck.

Mentos's plan was quite feasible, and it was crucial for Lane to unlock its computational power and operating permissions.

Mentos had spent nearly two hours formulating a rudimentary plan for training in magical seals.

To achieve greater results in the realm of magic, Lane realized that as an ordinary human in an extraordinary world, his biological intelligence was his only advantage.

However, the pressing issue was that he lacked the time and energy to conduct folklore research.

Based on his impression of the educational methods, Lane's knowledge of his world's college entrance examination standards might only equate to primary school level in this realm.

Having just completed his own college entrance examinations, he was acutely aware of how much energy he had expended on that knowledge.

He had dedicated twelve years to studying, sacrificing his comfort and well-being for it.

But now, in this world, he first needed to find food and survive.

Both work and study consumed significant amounts of time.

He wasn't confident that he could become a "folklore specialist" recognized by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization while struggling to make a living.

Though he possessed considerable biological intelligence, it remained just a basic tool in the context of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization's educational framework.