Chapter Forty-Three: Bonus Questions and Free Points

A simple little clue: the intermittent bursts of smoke, and the fact that the amount varies each time. The smoke venting from the Coal Turtle’s back is a racial trait—the healthier its body, the fiercer the smoke. The model’s smoke design was essentially broadcasting the fact that the “furnace” inside the Coal Turtle had malfunctioned.

The current smoke was like a child who’d never tended a clay stove, trying to blow on the fire—just lucky not to end up covered head to toe in ash. Typically, the Coal Turtle’s smoke comes from holes on its back and nostrils. During the earlier examination, the nasal cavity showed no issues, and the smoke output was stable. The problem, then, lay in the back.

“Checking tools seem to be standard issue.” In short, everything was provided, so there was no room for clever deductions by reverse-engineering the case from the tools. After shifting the model to have the Coal Turtle’s rear facing him, Zhu Suihan adjusted the height of the lab bench and shone a flashlight into the opening.

“Ah, as expected, that’s the issue.” Inside the hole, scattered coal residues were clogging it, much like sediment in a pipe. Some areas were discolored, likely from scraping and wear.

Now, the question arose—how does the Coal Turtle stoke its own fire? It can produce high-quality coal itself, but it can’t conjure elements from thin air like a mage, so it must supplement with “ingredients.” These “ingredients” probably wouldn’t align with human notions—does it eat them, or are they stuffed directly into the hole? Either way, encountering such a case in real life would likely mean the trainer had been careless—not paying enough attention to their partner.

If Zhu Suihan’s guess was correct, the shape of the Coal Turtle’s holes was a bit similar across the species, with details varying slightly. So, when selecting necessary fuel, like coal, it required careful refinement, at least matching the partner’s physical condition. Just as some people can swallow four pills at once, others take them one at a time, wondering how the former’s throat is constructed.

If not careful, the following occurs: coarse coal residue, after burning, can’t be expelled through smoke and accumulates at the opening, eventually causing harm to the Coal Turtle’s body. Of course, there’s also the possibility of simply being cheated by poor-quality coal—such vendors deserve to be sentenced to mine in volcanoes until their last breath.

The problem identified, it was time to consider the treatment plan. The coal residue needed to be cleaned out with brushes and such, taking care not to disturb the scraped and worn areas. Given the Coal Turtle’s nostrils weren’t large, a tube would need to be inserted into the hole to help vent smoke and ensure internal circulation.

Remove the residue, insert the tube, then apply appropriate medical resources to the scraped spots. The tube would both aid the Coal Turtle’s health and ensure that medicine and wounds weren’t contaminated by expelled smoke. Zhu Suihan wrote out the treatment plan and, after some thought, added a note about increasing nutritional intake—healing required energy, and the Coal Turtle wasn’t in a state where it couldn’t eat.

“Fortunately, nothing too hellish this time.” After finishing, Zhu Suihan set the treatment recommendations aside and began reviewing other cases.

The largest model belonged to the Slash Mongoose—simply put, a broken claw, likely thanks to the Snake Spoon’s antics. “Air freshener instead of smoke—if it’s poisoning, how would you represent that? Just scribble purple marker lines?”

Reviewing others’ cases was entertaining—Zhu Suihan had already solved his own, and it felt like surveying the room after finishing an exam, with a hint of pride, though it could earn a warning from the proctor. As for treating the model directly, Zhu Suihan had tried, but it seemed pointless; the coal residue appeared to have been placed there during manufacturing. Otherwise, after every use, the models would need replenishing, and with the number of case models, even doubling the Joy Academy’s support staff wouldn’t be enough.

The first exam question was unexpectedly simple.

“You’ve already solved it?” The Joy instructor approached. “May I see your answer?”

“Of course.” Zhu Suihan handed over his treatment plan. After reading it carefully, Joy smiled. “Not bad, you’ve got some foundation.”

There was nothing particularly outstanding in Zhu Suihan’s plan—normal, given the Coal Turtle case wasn’t special. The benefit of the intelligent system was that as soon as a case model appeared on a student’s bench, the reference answer appeared on the teacher’s device, ensuring timely, reasonable guidance.

“Well then, on to the second question.”

Zhu Suihan: What?

“Teacher, isn’t it one question per class?”

Joy smiled. “Bonus question. Extra credit if right, no penalty if wrong. The Dean wants to see what you can do.”

Zhu Suihan: “Bring it on.”

At worst, he’d cheat on the spot!

The Coal Turtle bade farewell, and the second “mahjong tile” appeared on the bench. Steely gaze, angular stone body, two arms—the rock etched muscle contours. Geodude, the macho Pokémon, also notorious for its fierce temper.

Honestly, most people only provoke Geodude by accidentally stepping on it, mistaking it for a rock. Anyone would go into rage mode in that situation.

Angular features—clearly a young specimen, and its ailments were glaring. A savage scar marked its forearm, suggesting youthful recklessness in battle, resulting in a serious injury.

“That crack is pretty severe.”

Maintaining the original position of Geodude’s arm, Zhu Suihan gently weighed it and immediately got a sense of the problem. It wasn’t difficult—just visually alarming.

“By analogy, this would be a severe bone fracture, bordering on a break?”

But does Geodude’s arm even have bones, muscles, tendons? Shining a light inside—no difference. Since it’s a case model, it had to ensure the highest realism, but Zhu Suihan saw no distinct coloring at the crack, so there was no need for finer distinctions.

So, the problem was easily solved. Grind hard stone into fine powder, combine it with other mineral resources, and finally unify it with healing ointment into a paste to fill the crack. Once Geodude showed no adverse reactions and the crack was fully filled, it was time for the next step.

Cut a metal plate matching the length of the crack and lay it over, then pin it in place with steel nails to prevent re-injury. Like prepping a child for an injection, you need something to fix the hand.

Steel nails and plates? Rest assured—even with the most advanced Hextech technology, as long as the material is metal and has been sterilized, it’s a feast for Geodude. The species can digest metal and stone, not necessarily by mouth, but through slow absorption by the body. Though their overall intake isn’t as great as Tyranitar, the mountainswallowing king.

Thus, steel nails and plates are essentially no different from surgical sutures. If you have enough money, medical resources can be swapped for more expensive options—treatment and strengthening in one go, service maxed out.

“All done.”

Zhu Suihan handed the treatment plan to Joy, whose gaze grew more approving. From a teacher’s perspective, a student’s good grades were the result of their own hard work. If you only teach and they don’t learn, even the best teacher is useless. If this was a freshman, it was even more interesting—it meant the child was gifted and, barring mishaps, would become a skilled Joy in the future.

“Excellent, you’ve passed the exam. You can now prepare for the second test—next class is in the adjacent room.”

Zhu Suihan nodded, thanked the teacher, and entered the empty classroom next door, opened a bottle of soda, and waved it in front of the Beiming Ball.

“Here, take a sip first.”

No sooner had he spoken, Zhu Suihan downed the soda himself—a move oddly reminiscent of the “first bite for the camera” trend.

“Uwu!” Lapras promptly emerged, pressing her head against Zhu Suihan’s shoulder in a show of force.

She wanted a drink, too!

Zhu Suihan patted Lapras. “I shouldn’t have brought you—there’s a big lake for you to play in for hours.”

Lapras opened her mouth silently.

First the soda, then give me some fries!

“Heh, you really can eat.”

Zhu Suihan opened the cap and slowly poured soda into Lapras’s mouth. She tipped her head back and swallowed, still glaring at Zhu Suihan.

I can eat? You’re the biggest eater I’ve ever seen!

“The second exam—hah, way too easy.”

Zhu Suihan relaxed for a simple reason: upon entering the exam room, he was greeted by nothing but energy cube makers. Row upon row, it looked like a giant laundromat.

Not so much easy as “could ace it with eyes closed.”

“Looks like I overthought it.”

Zhu Suihan exhaled. He’d treated the Joy Academy entrance exam like the old “single-log bridge” mock tests—brutally difficult, teachers telling you the practice was harder so that the real exam would seem easier and you’d relax. No, he couldn’t keep thinking that way—the pressure was mounting.

“Class is starting soon—come back now.”

Zhu Suihan recalled Lapras, found a corner, opened the window. He had to admit, the standard anime protagonist seat was quite nice—refreshingly cool.

Another troop of “monkey-watchers” arrived, just like zombies coveting Dave’s brains in the backyard. A wave of “one more look, just one more look” glances swept Zhu Suihan up and down.

When the instructor handed out the recipe for this class and distributed three sets of ingredients, Zhu Suihan finished lightning-fast and handed in his work early. Only then did those stares fade.

The teacher hadn’t even finished explaining the key points and common mistakes when Zhu Suihan “submitted” his work, making Joy blink in surprise, not quite processing it.

High-quality aroma wafted through the room, awakening the students and redirecting their focus to the lesson.

They had to stop staring—if a freshman could swiftly produce a high-grade energy cube, and they kept gawking, the teacher’s death glare would soon be fixed on them instead!