Chapter 292: Sudden Downturn
Chapter 292: Sudden Downturn
Luo En turned to the associate professor and gave a slight bow:
"Indeed, considerable ambition is required to drive such a project, though I'd prefer to call it 'vision.'"
"Vision, ambition—this is just semantics."
Chester shook his head lightly:
"What matters is, where did you draw inspiration for this conceptualization? This concept sounds...familiar."
Luo En keenly noticed a subtle shift in the other man's tone.
"Actually, part of this conceptualization's inspiration comes from some ancient literature I've recently studied."
He answered candidly:
"Especially the experimental notes of Lance Alchemist, whose theoretical framework on 'Consciousness Archiving' greatly inspired me."
Luo En observed that when "Lance" was mentioned, several reviewers' expressions subtly transformed.
"Combined with some foundational theories about Spirit Network Construction obtained from his collaboration with the Phantom King..."
Before he could finish, the atmosphere in the conference room suddenly shifted.
Chester straightened his posture abruptly, eyes sharpening with alertness: "Wait—did you say 'Phantom King'?"
"Yes." Luo En nodded, already sensing something. "Lance's notes mentioned their joint research on similar topics."
The room's mood turned instantly heavy.
The reviewers exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from initial astonishment to caution.
"Assistant Professor Luo", Minerva's tone turned unusually formal:
"You seem remarkably familiar with these historical records. May we ask where you obtained this information?
As far as I recall, Lance's experimental records are strictly guarded by the Truth Pavilion and not publicly accessible."
Luo En immediately realized he'd inadvertently touched a sensitive area.
"During the Lance Memorial Day Celebration, I was fortunate to receive a replica of Lance's Experimental Notes."
He answered carefully: "It was one of the rewards for the Rainbow Ring competition."
"Oh, there was something like that recently", Laff's expression eased slightly:
"That notebook was a specially curated public version, mainly recording foundational theories and safe experimental records."
"So, concepts like 'consciousness uploading' and 'spirit network'—you learned those from this notebook?"
Chester pressed, his voice thick with skepticism.
"Yes, though those were just vague conceptual frameworks."
Luo En maintained his composure. "My conceptualization mainly stems from my own research and extensions of existing technologies."
Silence fell again. The reviewers exchanged meaningful glances, their nonverbal communication palpable.
Finally, Minerva inhaled deeply, her smile returning—but noticeably stiffer:
"Assistant Professor Luo, your conceptualization is indeed remarkably innovative and forward-looking.
However, as the School Alliance's review committee, we must consider practical feasibility and resource allocation."
Her gaze sharpened: "Could you specify the resource requirements for the first phase of implementing this conceptualization?"
Luo En immediately sensed the conversation's direction had shifted.
What had seemed like a potential enthusiastic discussion now turned into a detached technical evaluation.
"The first phase mainly involves improving the Mobile Simulation Combat Device's core functions."
He refocused on pragmatic discussion:
"Required resources include high-quality mana-guiding materials, spiritual energy stabilization devices, and access to experimental sites."
For the next hour, the discussion turned intensely technical, focusing exclusively on his already-proposed Mobile Simulation Combat Device.
The grand conceptualization he'd introduced earlier was tacitly avoided by all present.
As the meeting concluded, Minerva and the others exchanged silent communications before delivering their verdict:
"Based on our evaluation of your research, the School Alliance has allocated 50 Mana Stones for funding, along with a foundational simulation object database for your device testing."
Fifty Mana Stones—a figure far below Luo En's expectations.
At Crystal Spire, even a mid-sized research project typically received at least 100 Mana Stones as startup capital.
"This funding is strictly limited to materials and knowledge acquisition directly related to the Mobile Simulation Combat Device."
Minerva added:
"Additionally, we expect monthly progress reports detailing research outcomes and fund utilization."
Luo En nodded, his expression betraying no disappointment:
"Thank you for the committee's support. I'll ensure optimal utilization of these funds."
"One final point", Chester suddenly interjected from his corner seat:
"Regarding that grand conceptualization you mentioned—we advise temporarily shelving it.
Projects of that scale involve complex issues that exceed your current capabilities..."
Minerva coughed pointedly, casting a reprimanding glance. Chester hastily amended:
"Ah, more accurately—you should conduct more rigorous risk evaluation."
Luo En met Minerva's gaze, recognizing the warning in her eyes.
"I understand", he replied evenly. "Thank you for the advice. Every step of research indeed deserves careful groundwork."
The meeting concluded. Luo En shook hands with each reviewer, departing.
As he clasped Chester's hand, the older man leaned in, whispering through mana communication:
"Young man, some theories are best left untouched—especially those tied to the great ones."
Luo En's expression barely flickered, though his voice remained calm: "Thank you for your advice, Professor Chester."
Stepping into the blinding sunlight outside the review hall, Luo En's mood darkened.
Fifty Mana Stones—barely enough for an advanced guidance system, let alone funding his grand conceptualization's preliminary experiments.
Walking home, his mind replayed the review session.
He scrutinized his statements, seeking what triggered their sudden wariness.
"It was when I mentioned 'Phantom King' and the consciousness-sharing network concept", he deduced.
"Was the concept itself ethically problematic, or is anything related to Phantom King considered taboo?"
Recalling Lance's vague notes on "Consciousness Archiving", he remembered the alchemist himself calling the idea overly bold.
"Perhaps this idea isn't merely 'bold'—but touches forbidden boundaries in our world."
Understanding dawned: "Or perhaps there's buried history behind this that I don't yet grasp."
The funding limit and Chester's warning made one thing clear:
His grand conceptualization would receive no support from the School Alliance currently.
"On the bright side, this might not be entirely negative", Luo En reassured himself.
"Proceeding recklessly without understanding the risks would be unwise."
Thankfully, refining the Mobile Simulation Combat Device remained feasible.
Though funds were limited, he could supplement research through teaching income and other channels.
Additionally, the simulation database provided by the School Alliance would significantly aid functional testing.
"Focus on immediate priorities first—then consider grander plans."
Luo En cautioned himself, even as curiosity about the mysterious Phantom King and her realm of Fairyland grew.
"Fairyland...are these fairies similar to what I imagine?" A renewed research fervor stirred within.
Plus, Lance's notes mentioned entrusting his Phantom Husk remnants to this friend for safekeeping...
Setting aside these elusive objectives, he must proceed more cautiously for now.
Central Lands' academic sphere proved far more complex than appearances suggested—careless steps could cross dangerous boundaries.
Shaking his head to clear these thoughts, he noticed a crystal ornament shop.
Suddenly recalling his need to contact Reynolds.
Though his grand consciousness network plan stalled, cultivating his "Autophagic Slime Mold" project remained viable.
Luo En retrieved a small Communication Crystal from his Storage Bag, infused it with mana, and selected Reynolds' communication sigil.
The crystal immediately emitted a faint blue glow, indicating it was attempting to connect.
Moments later, Reynolds' voice crackled through.
Accompanied by subtle static and echoes, it seemed like the other party was in an area with unstable mana fields.
"Luo En! Long time no see—I didn't expect you to contact me first."
Reynolds' voice carried fatigue: "Heard you made quite the splash at the Lance Festival?"
"Nothing special. Just a competition."
Luo En brushed it off casually, steering the conversation directly to business:
"I've got a small project requiring Abyss materials. I heard the Observatory's quarterly supply exchange is coming up?"
"Oh! That event!" Reynolds' tone brightened:
"Correct. It starts in three days and lasts a week. A rare opportunity—many explorers bring back samples, and prices are much cheaper than regular channels."
"What specific materials will be available? Do you have a detailed list?" Luo En pressed.
"Of course. I can request a reference list from the staff, but..." Reynolds' voice dropped conspiratorially:
"If you tell me what you need, I might secure better prices. I've got connections here."
Luo En paused, then decided to be candid. Reynolds' insider status at the Abyss Observatory truly offered advantages.
"I need foundational materials for cultivating 'autophagic slime mold'—specifically 'Void Slime' and 'Mutation Catalyst'."
He listed his requirements:
"Also, high-mana-content Abyss Crystals or similar items interest me."
A silence stretched through the Communication Crystal before Reynolds inhaled sharply:
"You're self-cultivating a specialized autophagic slime mold? You're serious? That's usually territory for formulation masters!"
His voice shifted from astonishment to excitement:
"Still makes sense. Considering your Rainbow Ring performance, you've earned the right to try this path. I'll keep an eye out. 'Void Slime' sells well recently—many exploration teams specifically collected samples."
"Exact figures?" Luo En asked.
"Normal channels run 200-300 Mana Shard Fragments per standard unit, but through my contacts, I can negotiate 150-160." Reynolds calculated:
"Other materials drop 30-40% cheaper. High-purity Abyss Crystals are trickier—they're always hot commodities."
This price was significantly better than the Crystal Spire's faculty channels. Networking power truly shined.
Luo En quickly calculated in his mind.
Cultivating a specialized autophagic slime mold required 3-4 complete Mana Stones. Adding other materials and test costs, total expenditure would be around five Mana Stones—saving nearly 600 Mana Shard Fragments compared to official channels.
"Acceptable pricing", he assessed his finances:
"My potion orders increased recently, plus Rainbow Ring bonuses. I should have enough funds for this project."
"Great!" Reynolds' voice brimmed with anticipation:
"Come to the Dawnport Observatory outpost directly. I'll handle everything."
A shout erupted from the other end as Reynolds hurriedly concluded:
"Sorry, urgent work calls. See you in three days—I'll send the detailed list."
After ending the call, Luo En stored the crystal away, shifting focus to his finances.
His potion clientele had expanded significantly over weeks—from a few apprentices to dozens of regular orders, including several mage clan members.
Eliot's introductions greatly helped. Weekly income now averaged two complete Mana Stones. Combined with the Rainbow Ring's 20 Mana Stone prize and his monthly assistant professor salary of two Mana Stones...
After setting aside emergency funds, he had about 30 active Mana Stones.
"Enough", he calculated:
"Five Mana Stones for the slime mold cultivation, plus high-energy Abyss materials. Remaining stones cover daily expenses and experiments."
Back in his workshop, he pulled out a leather-bound notebook, meticulously recording his financial plan and material list.
The list detailed required materials: foundational 'Void Slime,' 'Mutation Catalyst,' and auxiliary items like 'Stabilizer,' 'Mana Conduit,' etc.
Midway through writing, his pen froze.
He'd asked Reynolds to prioritize Abyss Crystals specifically for advancing the 'Puppet Substitute' project.
Once Puppet Charging reached 100%, it would unlock the 'Incarnation Stance' function—allowing independent combat and exploration away from the user.
If this theory held, he could implement a bold plan:
Keeping his original body in relatively safe zones while deploying the Puppet Substitute into more dangerous Abyss depths.
"This way, the original body avoids deep risks while securing more valuable Abyss materials and experience."
Luo En quickly recorded the idea:
"Combining the Abyss Crystal acquired from 69th Town with the upcoming high-mana materials should provide sufficient energy to push Puppet Substitute charging to 100%."
He noted potential material combinations with their pros, cons, and risk factors.
"The plan works", he mused, "but requires caution. Energy fluctuations during charging might cause unpredictable results—must conduct in a quarantine environment."
Finishing his tea, he immediately resumed other tasks.
One project involved refining the Simulation Combat Device. Though funding fell short of expectations, core functions still progressed as planned.
Another priority was preparing Abyss material procurement and potion formulations.
Over the next few days, Luo En balanced teaching, potion formulation, and research.
He spent several hours daily fulfilling apprentice potion orders—most came from apprentices or their acquaintances.
...
In the laboratory, Luo En manipulated a silver liquid, shaping it into intricate forms.
"Mentor, your technique is breathtaking", Lise admired:
"Ordinary Potion Masters might take 3-4 days to complete this process, yet you finished it in hours."
Luo En shook his head:
"Just practice. Skills aren't born—they develop through countless attempts and experiments."
His fingers twisted, solidifying the potion into a crystalline silver sphere radiating gentle light.
"This is the final batch. Please notify recipients to collect tomorrow."
He carefully placed the potion into a specialized Crystal Bottle, handing it to Lise:
"I'll be stepping out for a few days. Contact me via Communication Crystal for emergencies."
Lise nodded, accepting the bottle cautiously:
"Are you going to procure materials? I noticed your supply reserves seemed low recently."
Luo En raised an eyebrow at her observation, simply replying:
"Correct. Procuring materials is necessary for research."
"I wish one day I could freely access research institutions and rare materials like you", Lise sighed wistfully:
"But at my current level, I can't even reach the threshold."
"Everyone progresses at their own pace", Luo En suddenly thought of the knowledge-hungry girl in Black Mist Jungle:
"What matters is maintaining the right direction, not comparing speeds."
After finalizing preparations, he reviewed his material list and finances.
Everything stood ready—awaiting only his meeting with Reynolds.
(End of Chapter)
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