Chapter Sixty-Two: The Sky-Flying Mantis: Ah, Life

"Be good and don’t move, it’ll be over soon."

This treatment plan wasn’t particularly difficult—in fact, the main challenge was whether the patient would cooperate. Though this Oddish seemed a bit goofy, it could at least understand human speech and grasp what it meant to be brought to human territory.

“Oddish?”
Am I hurt? Why can’t I feel anything?

“It’s a good thing you don’t feel it. Just relax.”

If Oddish could feel pain, it would probably be wailing and fussing like certain classmates when faced with their exam papers. This was not only a test for the Human Academy; even a Chansey would be put to the test—at the very least, it would need to be highly skilled in its signature singing technique.

Zhuyuehan took a piece of candy from the medical kit and handed it to Oddish. As expected, this irresistible treat for children made Oddish obediently sit on the platform, happily savoring its sweetness.

“Excellent. Nothing in these portable medical kits is wasted.”

As for the fallen leaf, one of the victims—the Scyther—had brought it over, but its main use was just to be recycled by the Joy Institute as raw material. The only part worth saving was the badly cracked leaf above.

Zhuyuehan gently rubbed Oddish’s little belly with a fingertip, soothing its mood further. Then, he pulled out a small air bladder, less powerful than a handheld fan—its strongest breeze could barely blow dust off computer components.

He carefully blew away the dust clinging to Oddish’s body and leaves. Once that was done, Zhuyuehan took out a reusable healing potion from the kit.

Indeed, as both owner and one of the manufacturers, the Joy Institute had begun to equip these reusable potions. Unfortunately, the name Zhuyuehan proposed for the potion wasn’t approved; it was simply called a healing vial.

Drops of Life Water trickled down, and with a brush made from Bug Silk, he gently swept away the sticky dust that the air bladder couldn’t dislodge.

“Oddish~”

Oddish squinted contentedly, its little legs twitching unconsciously, much like a dog’s when it’s being scratched in just the right spot.

The effect of the Life Water was more than enough, and this was, after all, a goofy little fellow who, even with a cut leaf, only felt a slight itch.

To Oddish, Zhuyuehan’s treatment probably felt more like playful tickling than anything else.

“Impressive.”

Nourished by the Life Water, Oddish’s leaves turned glossy and vibrant. With the treatment at this stage, all that was left was to let Oddish soak up some moonlight outside—within a few days, the leaf would grow back.

As a side note, Oddish was afraid of sunlight; it loved to bask in the moonlight. One could even liken it to a spirit that absorbs lunar essence beneath the moon.

Zhuyuehan began mixing a medicinal paste and, with a small spoon, spread it evenly over the cracks in the leaf. Finally, he wrapped it with gauze made from Bug Silk. After tying a knot and adding a few more drops of Life Water, the gauze would naturally fall off as the leaf healed and Oddish moved its head.

As for the severed part of the leaf, all that was needed was a quick spray of healing mist—thanks to Scyther’s decade-long dedication, the cut was perfectly smooth.

The final step, a little gesture of kindness on Zhuyuehan’s part, was to open a bottle of Moomoo Milk to supplement Oddish’s nutrition.

There was no special reason—he simply found Oddish’s body delightfully soft and pleasant to the touch.

“Oddish!”

Seeing the milk, Oddish was just about to burst into a cheer but was stopped by Zhuyuehan’s hand on its forehead.

“Sit still, or there’ll be no milk.”

“Oddish.”

Oddish immediately behaved, its wide eyes fixed longingly on the bottle, embodying the very essence of yearning.

“That’s better. Good job.”

Zhuyuehan nodded in approval, patiently feeding Oddish with a small spoon, occasionally scraping the milk from the corners of its mouth.

“Oddish~”

When finished, Oddish was still unsatisfied. It swung out a vine, dipped it into the bottle, and sucked the last drops, smacking its lips with delight.

Not a single morsel was wasted—especially when it was such a rare treat!

“Teacher.”

Zhuyuehan raised his hand, signaling that his treatment was complete.

“Excellent work. That’s enough.”

The teacher nodded encouragingly; he remembered Zhuyuehan—or, more precisely, his grades. Thanks to technology leagues ahead of modern civilization and a manageable student body, the management here was much more detailed than in Zhuyuehan’s previous life.

The Joy Institute kept comprehensive records of each student’s performance, which would later serve as reference material when choosing specialties, with real-time updates on evaluations.

During the cocoon-stitching exam, the supervising teacher had noted that Zhuyuehan’s technical details needed refinement. Judging by Oddish’s treatment, he’d clearly worked hard to improve.

The handling of the Bug Silk gauze was flawless—no faults could be found.

“That Scyther is still waiting outside. Take Oddish to it; Scyther will take the little one home.”

Zhuyuehan nodded, letting Oddish stand in his palm as he strolled outside the teaching building. Oddish weighed even less than his incense burner.

Speaking of which, Zhuyuehan’s expression grew a bit odd. If things kept progressing, his incense burner would end up with more and more functions—would it eventually become like a mobile base from a strategy game? He could just deploy it, and in ten minutes, have a fully equipped laboratory complete with all sorts of ecological facilities.

In the wild, while others huddled around campfires and sleeping bags, Zhuyuehan could simply toss his incense burner down, and ten minutes later, be sipping coffee, listening to music, and soaking in a bath.

Well, there was yet another reason to make money.

Zhuyuehan stood outside the teaching building, falling silent as he surveyed the grounds.

Where was Scyther?

Wasn’t it supposed to be waiting? Or had the teacher been mistaken?

“Scy!”

Zhuyuehan: ?

The white-haired youth turned toward the trees nearby, from where the sound had come.

He saw the tree first, then finally spotted Scyther. Its gaze was complicated.

Watching Oddish chirp and bounce in Zhuyuehan’s hand, Scyther felt as though it were facing karmic debts from a previous life.

Who could understand this feeling?

Zhuyuehan rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Even he hadn’t spotted Scyther’s location at first—its ability to blend with nature was uncanny.

“Oddish is fine—or rather, it looked fine even before treatment.”

Scyther nodded; he thought so too. What kind of patient, en route to the doctor, would pepper you with questions about your diet and whether you liked basking in the moonlight?

“I’ll leave the rest to you.”

Zhuyuehan placed Oddish on Scyther’s shoulder but couldn’t resist asking, “By the way, is your ability innate or did you train for it?”

“Scy!”

“Trained, huh? Then it’s the fruit of your hard work.”

Zhuyuehan’s mouth twitched. For the first time, he considered arming himself with a thermal detector—one of the highly sensitive models.

After all, even a ninja couldn’t suppress their body heat below detectable levels.

If the machine were strong enough, even martial artists faking death with breath-holding techniques couldn’t escape detection!

Missing Scyther wasn’t his fault—Scyther might as well have been invisible.

“Just curious, do you live in the academy, or did you just stop by because the environment’s nice?”

Scyther shook his head and pointed to the back mountain.

“Ah, a local Pokémon. Good.”

Zhuyuehan nodded. “Interested in working as a night security guard? Our security team could use someone of your talent.”

Probably only espers could spot Scyther, and even then, they’d need strong abilities. A night security guard like this would be a phantom presence on campus.

“Scy?”

Scyther didn’t know what a night guard was.

“In short, you’d patrol the grounds and use your keen senses to spot anyone up to no good.”

With the Joy Institute’s hopeless gender ratio and the students’ relentless competitiveness, there wasn’t even a chance for couples to sneak off and make out in the woods.

“It’s a paid job. You can accept or decline—but there’ll be plenty of good food.”

“Oddish!”

The word “food” made no impression on Scyther, but Oddish was instantly excited.

Delicious, delicious!

Zhuyuehan’s eyebrows rose. “Let’s put it this way—if you don’t have any dietary preferences, but you become a night guard, you’ll gain access to tougher materials.”

“Your blades will become even sharper.”

Play to their desires—if it’s strength they want, so be it!

“Scy!”

Scyther was clearly interested, promising to seriously consider it after taking Oddish home.

Zhuyuehan waved after the two unfortunates, then paused.

Strictly speaking, the only unfortunate one should be Scyther. Oddish, oblivious to its own injury, was happily munching on candy and milk, enjoying a short trip on Scyther’s shoulder.

It was truly a world where only Scyther suffered.

“I’ll have to be more cautious around those who lack presence.”

A lack of presence might be self-deprecating in social situations, but in battle, it was the mark of a master assassin.

As he walked, Zhuyuehan whistled at a Pidgey resting on a branch, receiving a flap of its wings in response.

“Good thing you’re not a Bewear.”

If Bewear had made that motion with its arms, Zhuyuehan would have considered making a run for it.

That gesture meant, “I’m about to smash you.”

He might have the guts to face an ordinary Bewear, but if it were the one and only Tapu Bewear from Alola, well, there’d still be a way.

He’d just whip out an energy cube made from ten-year-old berries, toss it to Bewear, and let the bear enjoy the treat.

Just like appeasing the chieftain in the Hisui era—the energy cube would serve as the “sacred treasure” to quell the leader’s wrath.