Chapter 73: The Laboratory Requisition

Chapter 73: Chapter 73: The Laboratory Requisition

The morning sun cast long, golden shafts of light through the high arched lancet windows of Research Building 1.

Having concluded another deeply productive night of cycling the Seven Star Mana Circulation Manual, Eric felt remarkably invigorated down to his marrow. His refined mana was steadily pooling in his Mana Heart, brimming with dense, starlight-blue purity that hummed with quiet, explosive volatility.

Stepping into the bustling ground-floor rotunda of RB-1, Eric approached the departmental directory counter where a clerk was rhythmically stamping parchment requisition slips.

"Excuse me," Eric said, leaning in with a polite nod. "Where might I locate Professor Sonia Wane?"

The clerk didn’t lift her gaze from the stack of administrative files, her brass-nibbed quill scratching briskly. "She’s almost certainly holed up in her private research suite. Seventh floor, Room 701. Take the lift on the west wing."

"Thank you."

Eric rode the humming brass lift straight to the 7th floor.

Unlike the echoing lecture halls and bustling administrative foyers below, the seventh floor was wrapped in dead silence, save for the low, vibrating hum of magnetic containment fields and the sharp, chemical tang of ozone, distilled sulfur, and vaporized herbs lingering in the air.

He walked down the dimly lit stone corridor until he arrived before a heavy, reinforced steel door adorned with a polished plaque: *701: S. WANE — ADVANCED BIOLOGICAL EVOLUTION & BLOODLINE LAB*.

Eric raised a knuckle and knocked firmly.

Silence.

Not a single footstep or voice answered from within the sealed chamber.

Eric waited ten seconds, frowned slightly, and knocked a second time, putting a fraction more kinetic weight behind his knuckles.

*THUD! CRASH!*

A sharp metallic clang followed immediately by the violent shatter of heavy laboratory glassware echoed through the reinforced steel plating.

Eric recoiled half a step, blinking at the door in mild surprise. *What on earth was that...?*

A muffled, venomous groan drifted through the seams, followed by the heavy scuff of dragging boots and the violent unlatching of three distinct mechanical deadbolts.

The door was yanked open with an irritable, shuddering jerk.

"Who the hell is interrupting me?!"

Standing in the doorway was Professor Sonia Wane. The composed, sharp-eyed scholar from yesterday’s class had vanished entirely.

In her place stood an exhausted researcher who looked like she had barely survived a war. Her auburn hair stuck out in a chaotic, tangled bird’s nest, deep dark circles hung beneath her bloodshot hazel eyes, and her crumpled ivory lab coat was heavily singed at the cuffs and smeared with streaks of bright-violet alchemical soot.

Eric swallowed the dry knot in his throat, keeping his expression level. "Professor... It’s me, Eric. From the freshman evolution batch."

Sonia squinted through her bleary haze, her pupils slowly bringing his features into focus.

"Ah. The theoretical top scorer from the borderlands. What do you want? I’ve been awake for forty-eight hours straight without a wink of sleep, so cut straight to the point before I collapse on the tiles."

"Understood," Eric said without missing a beat. "I need an independent research laboratory so I can begin active developmental trials."

Professor Wane stared at him, her bloodshot eyes traveling down to his clean uniform, lingering on his posture, and traveling back up to his unblinking face.

Without uttering a single syllable, she pulled the heavy steel door shut with a solid bang.

Eric stood frozen in the quiet hallway, scratching his nose in pure bewilderment. *Did she seriously just slam the door in my face?*

Before he could turn around, the latch clicked again. The door swung wide.

Sonia thrust a thick, heavy stack of dense documents directly against his chest.

"Take it. Fill out this requisition dossier and I’ll authorize the departmental sign-off," she muttered in a raspy, sandpaper voice, rubbing her temples with soot-stained fingers.

Eric caught the heavy paperwork, blinking in genuine shock. "Just like that? No formal board interview? No preliminary screening panel?"

"Kid, I am entirely too sleep-deprived to participate in administrative song-and-dance routines right now," Sonia scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "You managed a clean hundred on the national theoretical exam, which means your structural fundamentals aren’t complete garbage. Just make sure you don’t crack the containment glass or blow the facility sky-high. I don’t need campus safety auditing my departmental budget."

"Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah. Save the gratitude. Get lost now, I’m busy. Drop the completed dossier back here before five this evening."

*SLAM.*

The door rattled heavily in its steel frame as the deadbolts snapped shut once more.

Eric stared at the reinforced barrier for a moment, letting out an amused chuckle. "Well... that was shockingly straightforward."

Looking down at the packet in his hands, however, his smirk faltered.

It wasn’t a standard application form, it was a twenty-page technical manifesto. The pages demanded exhaustive project proposals, theoretical risk mitigation protocols, anticipated reagent volatility models, hazardous waste neutralization strategies, and emergency containment redundancies. Filling this out would require hours of precise, academic formulation.

"First, food," Eric decided, tucking the dense dossier beneath his arm.

He rode the lift down, unlatched an institutional scooter, and rode back to the central dining pavilion. He ordered a hot, hearty breakfast of spiced eggs, grilled sausage links, and fresh sourdough bread. Taking a quiet corner booth by the stained-glass window, Eric pulled out his pen, writing steadily between bites.

Drawing upon the vast structural taxonomy of the *Myriad Beast Encyclopedia* alongside the foundational terminology he had absorbed from yesterday’s lecture, Eric drafted a comprehensive biological project focusing on low-tier avian bone-density adaptation and elemental catalyst absorption thresholds. The technical equations and biological models flowed with crisp, clinical precision.

By late afternoon, the final page was stamped with his silver student seal.

Eric returned to the seventh floor of Research Building 1 and knocked once on Room 701.

This time, Professor Wane had washed her face and tied her auburn hair into a neat, functional bun, though the dark exhaustion rings remained beneath her eyes. She took the dense packet, her sharp hazel eyes rapidly scanning the dense lines of technical formulas, catalyst equations, and containment diagrams.

Her eyebrows arched slightly in genuine, grudging surprise.

"Hmph. Impeccable methodology," Sonia admitted, closing the leather binder with a firm snap. "You’ll receive an official clearance dispatch on your smartband within forty-eight hours. Your assigned laboratory will be prepped and sanitized by then."

Her expression turned cold, razor-sharp, and intensely serious.

"Listen to me carefully, Eric. Central Research is not a playground. Because you hold top-tier theoretical status, the institution will fully subsidize your experimental burn rate. Every tool, crucible, alchemical apparatus, and raw catalyst you requisition through your dedicated research portal will be billed directly to the department’s institutional grant."

She leaned against the doorframe, fixing him with a piercing, unblinking glare.

"However... that grace comes with iron teeth. You are expected to produce verifiable, peer-reviewed results within designated review cycles. If the departmental audit finds that you squandered thousands of merit points of premium institutional reagents on baseless vanity projects, you won’t just lose your lab, you’ll be formally expelled and blacklisted across the kingdom for defrauding the academy."

Eric met her gaze squarely, his chin held high without a shred of hesitation.

"I accept the terms completely, Professor."

A faint, sharp smirk pulled at the corner of Sonia’s lips. She offered a brief, approving nod.

"Good. Then make it count, kid. Let’s see what you can actually do."