At present, this laboratory is mainly responsible for research on the scale-like leaves harvested from the Emerald Cypress.
Previously, a comprehensive healing potion had already been successfully developed and long since put into production.
After Guy personally demonstrated its effects, the military placed massive orders, bringing Ron a huge influx of gold, becoming yet another cash cow alongside Ron's Wonderful Flower Shop.
Beyond that, the lab was also working on single-effect healing potions.
The idea was to isolate specific effects from the scale leaves' various healing properties, enhance them individually, and produce specialized potions.
This line of research was still in the exploratory phase, with no clear breakthroughs yet.
Ron wasn't worried at all.
The comprehensive potion alone was already making him more money than he could reasonably spend in the short term.
And it wasn't a one-time gain—it was a steady stream of income.
With such overflowing funds, Ron could afford to:
Fuel the aggressive expansion of hot pot restaurants
Purchase and renovate venues nationwide for the Magic Duel tournament
Any business scaled across the entire Human Empire required exponentially increasing capital.
Without income sources like:
the flower shop
meditation potions
healing potions
None of this rapid expansion would have been possible.
Even the system wouldn't have been enough.
"Your Highness."
Dunlop, the lab director, approached and bowed respectfully.
Instead of immediately bringing up recruitment, Ron first asked:
"What about the two researchers who changed their faith? Have they reverted?"
Back in February, Ron had brought scale leaves grown from the fusion of the Mother Tree of the City of Chaos and the parasitic Emerald Cypress.
Out of the three researchers directly involved:
Two followers of the God of Healing had converted to the Goddess of Harvest — Hervesta
The third, already a believer of Hervesta, remained unaffected
After learning this, Ron immediately halted the experiment and instructed Dunlop to monitor them closely.
"They haven't reverted," Dunlop replied with a helpless expression.
"They still attend Hervesta's church weekly and draw the sheaf-of-grain symbol during prayers…"
"…That effect is seriously strong," Ron muttered.
It had been nearly two months, and still no signs of them returning to their original faith.
Could the conversion effect of the scale leaves really be permanent?
That was… unsettling.
Fortunately, Ron had already warned the convent near the Mother Tree:
These leaves could only be sold or gifted to devout believers, and not used for other purposes.
So far, aside from Ron and Dunlop, no one seemed aware of this effect.
Even if someone of another faith used the leaves and later converted, others would simply assume:
"They were healed by Hervesta's divine tree, so they chose to convert."
No one would suspect a single leaf.
Because honestly—
That would sound ridiculous.
"Continue observing them. Report again later."
After that, Dunlop briefed him on recent developments.
To support the research into specialized potions, the lab had recruited a large number of new researchers.
These included:
Outstanding fresh graduates from the Royal Capital Magic Academy
Teaching assistants from other labs
All drawn by:
High salaries
The lab's proven success (the comprehensive potion)
Abundant resources provided by Ron
Ron could supply:
Nether Orchid flowers
scale leaves
and virtually unlimited magical materials
Under such conditions, attracting top talent was inevitable.
He also allowed academy students to visit the lab.
In fact, he had instructed Dunlop to treat them well and leave a strong impression.
This lab—
It was the perfect recruitment funnel for Ron's real goal.
"Your private experimental zone?"
When Dunlop heard about the massive private facility Ron had built outside the City of Chaos—and learned about its scale and equipment—his eyes lit up.
Especially the Mana–Element Reaction Zone.
For a research mage, that was practically a dream facility.
But after a moment, he calmed down.
Realistically, he wasn't likely to leave the Royal Capital.
Ron still needed him to manage this lab
He himself had deep ties to the academy
His relationships and career were rooted here
Moving to the City of Chaos wasn't a necessary choice for him.
At that point, Ron finally revealed his real intention:
"Do we have any researchers who aren't local? Or younger graduates willing to travel and build a career elsewhere?"
"My private experimental zone needs a lot of foundational researchers."
"If there are any, keep an eye out for me."
Dunlop immediately understood.
"No problem. I'll take care of it."
The reality was:
Even though the Royal Capital Magic Academy was a sacred place for mages, its resources were limited.
Many mages stayed there simply to:
build seniority
gain access to better labs
Alternatives weren't appealing:
Noble-funded labs → restrictive, average treatment
Regional academies → underfunded, outdated equipment
Even the prestigious Chaos City Magic Academy had similar issues.
But Ron's private lab?
It had:
cutting-edge facilities
abundant funding
freedom
For many overlooked talents, it was a golden opportunity.
Dunlop himself didn't need it.
But helping younger mages who were held back by seniority?
That was easy—and worthwhile.
Before leaving, Ron casually added:
"If you ever want to use the Reaction Zone, just apply to me."
He had noticed the change in Dunlop's eyes when that facility was mentioned.
A small incentive.
Dunlop was valuable—not just as a researcher, but as a manager.
Someone like him would definitely be worth recruiting in the future.
But not yet.
For now, Ron needed him to act as a bridge—
A steady pipeline of talent from the Royal Capital Magic Academy to his private lab.
After all—
You could say he was just helping the academy…
"ease its burden."