Filling the soil was a rather labor-intensive task.
Once the wind died down a little, Su Cha went out again to buy a flower stand. His dorm had a small balcony, which was perfect for growing flowers. Skipping the soaking process, he first planted the rose seeds.
The whole planting process was simple and rough: scatter three or four seeds into each pot, use demon power to improve the soil, then water them.
As the sky gradually darkened, Su Cha washed up and went to bed.
A torrential rain poured down in the middle of the night. It was no longer as stuffy as the past two days. He finally had a good night’s sleep. The next morning, he was woken by the sound of a drone tapping on the window.
Su Cha opened the balcony door, and the drone flew in. Spray-painted on the side were two characters: “Litong.”
Litong was the app he’d placed an order with yesterday. He hadn’t expected it to be this fast. Sure enough, when he logged in, there was a delivery notification.
Upon unboxing, he saw that the roots were relatively intact—clearly, the person who took the job had done it with care. Su Cha sent over a thank-you emoji.
80YearOldBringingIllnessToTheBattlefield: [Please confirm receipt ASAP. I only get paid once it’s confirmed.]
ChaChaChaChaCha: [Okay.]
Just as he was about to exit the app, another message popped up.
[Are you really Su Cha?]
Su Cha replied, “Of course.”
80YearOldBringingIllnessToTheBattlefield kindly reminded him: [The Overlord Flower is toxic, but it’s pretty much useless in the tournament.]
ChaChaChaChaCha: [Wait for good news from me.]
80YearOldBringingIllnessToTheBattlefield: […Respect. Best of luck.]
Besides the Overlord Flower, Su Cha also purchased several plant specimens on the platform, all of them toxic species, which he planned to use as supplemental food for the Overlord Flower later on.
After carefully transplanting them into pots, a new problem arose.
According to his earlier plan, he could use demon power to further enhance the plants’ toxicity. But as soon as he infused it, the leaves visibly drooped. When he placed his fingertip on them, he confirmed that the plant’s vitality was weakening.
“It’s rejecting this power.”
Su Cha frowned and stared at the flowerpot for a long while, then tried using spiritual power instead. The Overlord Flower withered less quickly, and its toxins briefly flared up—but then it wilted immediately after.
“…”
His money!
Grieving over his money going down the drain, Su Cha clutched his chest and sat down on a stool to recover.
“How could this be?”
It had always worked before.
After agonizing for over an hour, Su Cha could only think of one possibility: the system had retained some of his demon power, but he had indeed changed bodies. The soul of a flower demon gave him a natural affinity with plants, but compared to before, it was like a river compared to an ocean.
Not to mention, his soul was still wounded.
Once the sun came out, the coolness left behind by the heavy rain was instantly evaporated. Without air conditioning, the dorm grew stifling. Su Cha decided to go out for a walk.
Just as he passed the combat room, someone came out.
A new student who had just lost three matches in a row was heading to the cafeteria to get water, drenched in sweat. When he saw Su Cha strolling about fresh and clean, his expression turned sour.
His entrance exam scores were only average. Thinking about how he might be forcibly matched with someone this unmotivated in a future team left him even more frustrated.
Ignoring the unfriendly look, Su Cha continued walking under the shade of the trees, his raincoat looking increasingly out of place in the summer heat.
There had been no shortage of media coverage about him. Rumor had it that the raincoat was used to stabilize his fragile spiritual power. Students on campus had long grown used to it.
As he followed the edge of the path, at some point he realized there was no one else around. Su Cha stopped by the lakeside, looked up, and let out a soft sigh.
So young and already looking burdened by life, hands clasped behind his back, his melancholy expression drew a question—
“At your age, full of vitality—what could you possibly have to worry about?”
Su Cha turned toward the voice and saw someone standing by the lakeside ahead.
The white hair at his temples and faint crow’s feet gave him a stern look. There was an old scar below his throat that slightly affected his voice. Su Cha was stunned: “Principal?”
The Principal’s fingers moved now and then. Only when Su Cha got closer did he realize the man was fishing.
It was a truly bizarre form of fishing: the angler stood upright, with no rod and no bait, yet fish kept taking the hook.
Su Cha greeted him, then answered the Principal’s earlier question.
“A small issue came up.” If it were another new student, they’d probably back away timidly—fear of teachers during student years is quite common, let alone fear of the principal, whose natural authority as an elder could be quite intimidating.
But Su Cha had no such hesitation. It was a rare opportunity—of course he had to ask for guidance.
The principal didn’t ask what the problem was, so Su Cha took the initiative to explain: “I accidentally discovered that I seem to have a knack for planting things. It feels like anything I plant just thrives.”
He didn’t hide this part. When faced with things he couldn’t explain, he just blamed the experiments.
Yes, it was all a side effect of the experiments.
Then, he blurred the core of the issue a bit: “I want to develop in the field of pharmaceuticals. But if I wanted to poison a strange beast to death, the dosage required is just… unimaginable.”
Past competitions were mainly about hunting strange beasts. The preliminary rounds might simulate small skirmishes between students, but it was unlikely to be full-on battles. Most of the points would still come from killing beasts. These beasts were often over ten meters tall, with reddish-brown, bumpy skin, sharp fangs completely exposed, ridiculously short torsos, and long legs—which meant they were extremely fast.
To poison such a huge creature to death, the amount of toxin needed was far beyond reasonable limits.
And beasts weren’t stupid. They wouldn’t just stand there waiting to be poisoned. With Su Cha’s current strength, he’d probably get impaled by one of those scythe-like legs before he even got close.
He had originally planned to use his demon power to enhance the Overlord Flower’s toxic scent and spread it through the air. But that clearly wasn’t going to work anymore.
The principal told him to look at the lake.
Lotuses bloomed on the lake’s surface, butterflies fluttered above, and a few swans glided nearby—two of them were even fighting. The surface wasn’t calm, but the ripples from the disturbances didn’t seem to affect the fish at all. They continued swimming straight toward the spot where the principal was standing—and got caught.
A string of droplets splashed in midair. The principal curled his fingers, and a carp landed in the bucket.
He picked up the bucket and left, without saying a word.
Su Cha stared at the lake, trying to figure out what exactly the principal wanted him to see.
He stood there for several hours. By the time the sun was at its hottest, he returned to his dorm still full of questions. For lunch, he just downed a bottle of nutrient solution. On Galan Star, people’s sense of taste had seriously degenerated, and the cafeteria’s food honestly tasted terrible.
The images from the lake kept replaying in Su Cha’s mind. When he couldn’t figure it out, he aimlessly searched the web for information—sometimes about plants, sometimes about strange beasts’ anatomy.
After 7 p.m., even though the sun had set, the heat lingered. Su Cha’s clothes clung to his body, drenched in sweat. He felt like an oxygen-deprived fish trapped in a sealed aquarium.
The dorm room faced a bad direction and had poor ventilation. After sitting focused for a few hours, he stood up abruptly and nearly fainted. He quickly pulled a straw mat from under his bed and took his rechargeable desk lamp out into the hallway.
The moment he stepped outside, it felt way better.
The dim, gloomy corridor was practically a summer paradise.
…
There were plenty of people working hard in the summer.
The most crowded place on campus wasn’t the study room—it was the combat room, especially in recent days.
Ji Tianjin had come back to change clothes. As he passed the third floor, he keenly picked up the sound of muttering. He stopped and glanced down the corridor—Su Cha was sitting cross-legged on his straw mat, taking notes and cross-referencing something.
“White crow vine, highly toxic… Since it’s white, drying and grinding it could make a good hidden weapon.”
“Wood licorice—it can balance out bitterness.”
“This one… mediocre toxicity.” He looked at the herb and shook his head. “I feel sorry for you—being so average in toxicity, you might as well grow more thorns on your stem.”
Ji Tianjin chuckled and shook his head, watching for a while before heading upstairs again.
Maybe it was the weather, but Su Cha yawned. His drowsy eyes scanned the page, and his head bobbed occasionally. Fighting off sleep, he straightened his neck with both hands and took a deep breath to continue.
Another three hours passed. He blinked a little longer than usual—and drifted off into a short nap.
…I’ll be waiting for you on the interstellar battlefield.
Yise’s voice rang in his ears like a devil’s whisper. The little flower demon, who only wanted a peaceful retirement, jolted awake in terror.
“Study well,” Su Cha wiped the sweat from his forehead, “and stick to the sciences.”
He’d shine in the field of herbal medicine and devote himself to research in the future.
His hand itched a little. Looking down, he saw a small welt on the back of it. According to folk belief, a large swollen bump meant it had been a female mosquito—those were the ones with the strongest toxins.
“Tch…” It itched and stung when touched.
He’d really let himself go lately, letting a mosquito get close without noticing.
Suddenly, a thought struck Su Cha. His eyes lit up. He quickly pulled up his communicator and searched strange beast data again to confirm he wasn’t misremembering. Then, he contacted the same person he’d used to buy things before.
ChaChaChaChaCha: [You there?]
The other party had notifications on and replied quickly.
80YearOldBringingIllnessToTheBattlefield: [?]
ChaChaChaChaCha: [Same job—still taking orders? But this time I want seeds. I also need tiger pelt grass—seeds too.]
80YearOldBringingIllnessToTheBattlefield: “No discounts this time.”
It was just Desolate Star No. 7. For people with flying vehicles, it was an easy round trip.
They struck a deal. In a good mood, Su Cha rolled up his mat and returned to the dorm.
In the following days, the temperature kept rising. It was unbearable to stay in the dorms during the day, and that’s when the benefits of being on a high floor became obvious. The higher up, the better the facilities. Someone like Ji Tianjin probably lived in a full suite.
Just before heading out, Su Cha’s communicator buzzed.
It was a message from Shen Ningze, asking how he was doing at school.
It hadn’t even been a week since leaving the hospital, but with everything going on, Su Cha had almost forgotten about Shen Ningze. He replied briefly: [It’s okay.]
Shen Ningze: [When I was just rescued, my condition fluctuated a lot. You should also be careful and get regular checkups.]
Su Cha politely replied with a “Sure.”
But in truth, he knew his own body well. It wasn’t necessary.
After a few more messages, Su Cha was about to enter the elevator and ended the conversation himself.
Unlike the stifling dorms, the hospital was cool and shady—a stark contrast to summer outside.
Shen Ningze still held his communicator. A moment later, he contacted someone else: “Station some people around the hospital. If Su Cha ever comes in for a checkup—that’s our chance to strike.”
The person on the other end replied: “Understood.”
Leaning against the headboard, Shen Ningze’s pale face curled into a sneer.
The information database couldn’t find any record of him, so the Investigation Department naturally assumed he was like most experimental subjects—an orphan. But in reality, Shen Ningze was the illegitimate child of the Xilin Group’s CEO, born with a genetic defect.
A shameful background. A useless body. His fate should’ve been miserable.
But Shen Ningze was born clever—and born ruthless. When he accidentally learned about Xilin Group’s experiments from his mother, he volunteered to be a test subject, hoping the drugs would change his fate.
Claiming to restore the Galan people’s sense of smell was just a cover. What Xilin really wanted was to create the ultimate genetically enhanced warrior.
Thinking back, Shen Ningze suddenly chuckled.
“Oh, Father, Father… if only you’d been just a little kinder to me…”
Back then, as his body deteriorated rapidly and he was about to be discarded, Shen Ningze made the first move and leaked classified intel. That was how the Empire’s military came to raid them. Funny—Xilin Group still had no idea who betrayed them.
The Empire and the public would always sympathize with a victim. That status gave him tremendous value.
Now, even his once-powerful father and those who remained from the old guard had no choice but to acknowledge his existence.
“This is only the beginning…” Shen Ningze smiled coldly, eyes devoid of warmth.
He would take back the power—step by step. Restart the experiment. Change everything.
