Chapter 85 — Soil That Changes
S.C. 1510 — Late December
Foosha Forest — Underground Lab
Ren stood in front of a neat row of clay pots, each filled with different types of soil he'd gathered:
Foosha's ordinary brown topsoil
reddish clay
black mineral-rich soil from Zemo's "secret treasure spot"
the normal field soil villagers used
Zemo poked each pot with his nose, judging them like a strict gardening critic.
Ren raised a tiny glass vial—diluted Compound X.
A safe version.
The kind that wouldn't turn a plant into a screaming vine monster (hopefully).
"Alright," Ren whispered.
"Let's see what you do when you're not trying to kill me."
Zemo sat down dramatically, as if preparing to witness a disaster.
Ren dipped a wooden dropper inside the vial.
"One drop each. Nothing crazy."
He dropped the first bit onto pot number one.
Zemo leaned in closer.
Ren leaned back slightly.
Pot number one did not explode.
Great start.
---
Pot #1 — Ordinary Soil: The Good Student
The drop disappeared instantly.
The sprout inside gave a tiny, polite shake—like it had just woken up from a nap.
Ren squinted.
"…Did you just stand straighter?"
He compared it to the control sprout on the shelf.
Yep. The leaf perked up.
Not thrilling. Not dangerous. Just quietly productive.
Ren scribbled:
> Ordinary soil → mild vitality boost
No danger. No drama. Acceptable.
Zemo yawned.
Clearly unimpressed.
---
Pot #2 — Clay Soil: The Overachieving Middle Child
Ren dropped the second bit onto the clay soil.
This one absorbed slower.
The sprout turned slightly greener.
Just a hint.
Zemo sniffed and shrugged.
Ren wrote:
> Clay soil → slightly increased chlorophyll
Possibly useful for farming.
Boring, but practical.
He moved to the third pot.
Zemo immediately stepped back.
Oh.
That was a red flag.
---
Pot #3 — Black Mineral Soil: The Problem Child
Ren held the vial over the pot.
Zemo growled softly.
Ren blinked.
"…Is this your 'don't touch that' growl or your 'I want chicken' growl?"
Zemo growled louder.
Ah.
Definitely the warning kind.
Ren added the drop anyway.
SHIMMER.
The soil shimmered for a moment—like starlight trapped in dirt.
Ren's heart skipped a beat.
"Oh… that's not normal."
The sprout inside twitched.
Then vibrated.
A steady buzz, like it was holding onto a tiny earthquake.
Zemo backed up until his butt hit the lab wall.
Ren crouched carefully.
The plant's leaves darkened slightly.
Its tips sharpened.
The stem thickened a fraction.
Small changes.
But unnatural changes.
He touched the soil lightly with a stick.
It was warm.
Warm soil was never a good sign.
Ren wrote quickly:
> Mineral soil + Compound X = unusual reaction
Sprout vibrates
Soil temperature increases
Leaf surface darkens
Zemo dislikes → instinctive warning
Potential… energy exchange?
Ren stared longer.
The sprout vibrated like it had its own heartbeat.
Zemo hid his face behind his tail.
Ren whispered:
"…Okay. You're officially weird."
---
Pot #4 — Normal Field Soil: The Lazy One
He dropped one last bit into the field soil.
Nothing happened.
Not even a polite wiggle.
Ren sighed dramatically.
"You're either normal… or just lazy."
He wrote:
> Field soil → no response.
Not compatible.
Zemo nodded in deep approval of this normality.
---
A Puzzle Comes Together
Ren walked back to the third pot—the vibrating sprout.
This wasn't random.
There was a pattern forming:
the ore had strange mineral veins
the soil from the ore nest reacted strongest
the predator's body had plant-like characteristics
Compound X came from a fast-growing forest grass
Everything pointed to one truth:
The deeper forest wasn't random.
It was connected.
Evolutionary pressure?
Unique ecosystem?
Something else entirely?
Ren felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck.
"…This forest has secrets we don't understand yet."
Zemo nudged him, protective.
Ren gently placed covers over the pots and moved the vibrating sprout to a separate table—the "Do-Not-Explode-Please" corner.
He dusted off his hands.
"Tomorrow we expand this lab again. I need more room… and sturdier walls."
Zemo huffed in agreement.
Ren extinguished the lantern.
For a moment, in the dim flicker of the dying flame, the sprout's leaves caught the light and shimmered—
not threatening
not monstrous
—just different.
A quiet reminder that the forest was watching.
And changing.
---
End of Chapter 85