Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

After Vera finished speaking, she immediately turned to the side and walked towards the kitchen.

Upon hearing Vera's words, Gordon couldn't help but think of a more fundamental question.

Strive, hunt, compete for source material, and risk enormous dangers...

Why?

"From the perspective of a Source Hunter," he followed her, "why do you chase Source?"

"The method to become a god. The hunter school said so," Vera said bluntly.

"If these four words were printed on the admission brochure, the line of people waiting to enroll would be longer than the Blackwater River," Gao Deng said.

"Or rather, hunting for the source is the process of transforming the human body into a divine body," Vera said.

Gordon recalled that when he first refined the Unbroken String, he did receive numerous notifications of physical enhancement.

So this was a transformation of the human body, in preparation for the creation of a divine body!

"You're saying Arthur Grey has more than three Source materials?" Gordon asked.

"Definitely more. And I have three too," Vera said. "But the high-value source materials must be fused together; good compatibility is needed to create something stronger. If the compatibility is poor, they will clash and become like idiots."

She ate the last piece of smoked meat from Gordon, but still felt it wasn't enough.

  

Gordon watched her chew and finally pieced together the symptoms.

So this is the source of her endless hunger, madness, sensitivity, and neurosis.

It has nothing to do with a good appetite; it's a terminal illness. Incompatible elemental molecules are vying for the same body within her.

"If I can successfully fuse with more than six sufficiently powerful source substances... I can become a reclusive demigod..." Vera looked at her body. "After that, no one will talk about it publicly."

"Demigods," Gordon pondered the word. "Do such things really exist?"

"I believe that the Source will make people less and less human," she said. "Whether what's left in the end can be considered God, I don't know."

Gordon understood.

"Therefore, we must pursue the source quality," Gordon said.

"If there's an opportunity with source material, seize it." Vera stared at Gordon.

"clear."

"...Well then, go to sleep. Dreams can suppress pain and anxiety, and the Source won't come on its own." Vera left the kitchen, leaving Gordon with a completely empty pantry.

……

The last day of March.

Lundnium rarely sees a glimmer of sunshine.

Gordon no longer needs to close his eyes and meditate; his abilities have become a part of his daily life.

He can avoid the crowded stairs in advance, catch the plates that slip in the cafeteria, and predict that a piece of chalk will break into several pieces when it falls to the ground.

Early in the morning, he went to the biomedical building first.

The observation of the silverfish box has continued for many days.

Logically, Peter should have recorded the weight, temperature, amount of exudation, and spiritual responses daily.

But Gordon himself was not at ease.

If the previous guesses were correct, something is brewing inside it, and it's nearing its end.

Back in the dissection room.

The air inside is too dry; that's not normal.

The silver fish box was placed in a sealed container.

Gordon habitually opened the outer seal, and just as he was about to test it, he suddenly stopped.

Where's the water?

He had deliberately placed it in a sealed box and soaked it in warm amniotic fluid, giving it a comfortable birthing environment.

But now, the inner walls of the sealed box are dry, the padding is dry, and there are no watermarks on the surface of the box.

It no longer even sheds tears.

Compared to the box in his memory, Gordon felt it was quieter.

It remains exquisite, with lifelike fish reliefs swirling along its shell, each fish's eyes hollow, as if worshipping some long-gone sacred place. The only difference is that it no longer breathes, nor does it drip water.

[The silver fish box. It has burned itself out.]

Gordon was particularly curious.

If this is considered an experimental accident, then he can't afford to pay for it.

Even if he is extraordinary, he cannot explain it.

Unless... this means the gestation period is over?

Gordon did not open the box immediately.

He tentatively touched the box, activated his ability, and silently felt the response beneath his fingertips.

Its outer shell is made of metal and glass, while the inside is a dry, hollow cavity.

After a scan, he found nothing that resembled gears, interlayers, or mechanisms.

At the same time, there were no living creatures crawling or resting inside.

But he did sense the outline of a small thing.

Like a seashell left on the beach after the tide has gone out.

Gordon was determined to open the box. He picked up the scalpel and plunged the tip into the almost invisible slit.

Apply pressure slowly...

The lid is tilted up.

There wasn't even any mist or water droplets inside.

It was completely dry, as if something had absorbed all the water.

Gordon saw only a small, palm-sized cavity, with a decaying ancient lining at the bottom of the box, like an empty nest, and nothing more.

And in the middle of this nest, there lay something about the size of a thumb.

It is brown, with a shriveled and wrinkled appearance, and is very ugly.

It looks like dried fruit pulp, or a small fossil.

It was like something dirty had somehow fallen in there.

If Winslow saw this, he would only tell Gordon to throw it away immediately.

"Hiss..." But in Gordon's eyes, it was a rare treasure.

First, my tongue tasted the salty flavor of the seawater in a strange way.

Then he saw blue, silver-gray, pale gold... a variety of colors swirling together, sometimes coalescing into an eye staring at him, sometimes scattering into countless points of light swimming like a school of fish!

The water that once seeped out of the box, all the extraordinary activity provided by the amniotic fluid in the warm bed, is now concentrated into a single essence.

It is neither a fruit pit nor a fossil; it is absolutely beautiful and flawless. Its magnificent radiance rises and falls quietly beneath its dry outer skin, like an ocean within a fruit pit.

[The pristine new essence - "A new life yet to choose its shape." Before its first cry, it awaits its birth.]

A completely new source substance! Gordon felt like his head was about to explode.

A stream of blood rushed from the soles of his feet straight up to his head, scalding him and giving him a pleasant, stimulating sensation.

This thing is worth far more than a hundred or a thousand pounds...

This is a brand new source material with an infinite future!

Without thinking twice, Gordon quickly used tweezers to remove it.

I must save this now.

He carefully placed the source material into a brown glass bottle and sealed it properly with sealing wax.

Then he tucked the bottle into his chest, feeling as if he were holding a miniature sun in his arms.

Then, Gordon’s gaze returned to the silverfish box.

The nature of the problem has now changed.

The key question is how to explain to others that the silverfish box has stopped functioning.

……

Peter arrived at the dissection room carrying a stack of notebooks and saw Gordon standing solemnly beside the silverfish box.

"Good morning," Peter said lazily.

"My old senior, you're in big trouble." Gordon turned around, his expression grave.

Peter stopped in his tracks.

His expression had been gloomy all along, and now he looked even more troubled.

"I haven't made any mistakes today," Peter said cautiously. "At least not mistakes that you would have noticed."

"The water is gone."

"What kind of water?"

"The water in the box, the extract from the silverfish box, there was still some last night, I saw you recorded it, 750 milliliters."

"Huh?" Peter quickly approached.

He looked at the box, then at the padding, and then at the completely dry silverfish box.

"Impossible," Peter tried to deny reality.

"You need to give an explanation. You're in charge of this," Gordon said sternly.

Peter looked at him and suddenly remembered that Gordon had moved out.

"Ah..." Peter reluctantly admitted, "I am now the day-to-day caretaker of the anatomy lab."

"Congratulations, you've got the point right," Gordon said.

"Someone came to steal in the middle of the night?" Peter's expression immediately turned grim.

"Theft at least means there's a thief, while disappearing into thin air is a procedural issue," Gordon said. "The former just requires arresting someone, while the latter requires finding someone to take the blame."

Peter remained silent.

He was clearly starting to imagine a report being handed to Gordon, seen by Professor Winslow, then transferred from the college office to the equipment management office, and finally falling back on his head.

"Don't escalate this," Peter said in a low voice.

"That's what I meant too," Gordon said.

"How about... we hide it?" Peter said instinctively.

"Good strategy, but I'd like to make a slight modification," Gordon said. "Let's define it as the end of a complete reaction cycle. The disappearance of the precipitate means the box activity has stopped, the spiritual reaction has ceased, and the disturbance is over. We can ask the professor to take a look."

"Okay, okay, you've got a good idea." Peter thought it made sense. "But you just said I was in big trouble."

"So that you will listen to me carefully."

"You'll get beaten to death sooner or later." Peter took a deep breath.

"So I hired Vera to protect me."

……

Professor Winslow arrived quickly.

The dissection room suddenly became very formal.

Peter laid out the ruler, precipitate salt, fluorescent lamp, separation solution, sealing wax, and source reaction paper in that order.

On the dissection table, the silver fish box lay quietly.

"Professor," Gordon greeted Winslow.

Before looking at the silverfish box, Winslow thought of the cultists.

Because Gordon had recently donated a guy with a beard on his chin.

"What's your impression of the Blackwater River cultists?" Winslow asked.

"Very mysterious."

"Yes. Nameless. No matter how you search, you can't find any records of them," Winslow said.

"Upon closer reflection, they are actually quite fortunate; they don't have to worry about renting a place or buying bread," Gordon said.

Peter glanced at him.

"That's one perspective," Winslow calmly accepted the answer. "Besides, there's a long-standing hypothesis in the academy that the Deepclaws, commonly known as 'water monkeys,' might be one of the most human-like Otherworldly beings. There might even be some kind of transformation relationship between the two."

Gordon felt a chill run down his spine as he recalled those hunched, slippery Deepclaw demons.

“So,” Winslow continued, “it’s not without reason that some Blackwater Cultists consider the Deepclaws to be their brothers and sisters. And if the Silverfish Box can simultaneously summon both the Deepclaws and those Cultists, its extracts will affect the same… spiritual imprint.”

In Winslow's view, the Silverfish Box connects the Deepclaw demons, cultists, and the spiritual remnants of the Blackwater River.

This may be the key to understanding the abnormal ecology of the entire Blackwater River.

"Also," Winslow said, "you reported that something unusual happened to this box today."

"Yes," Peter sighed.

"The water has disappeared," Gordon said. "When I came in this morning, I found it was no longer bubbling, and when I opened it, everything had evaporated."

"If it's a volatile diffusion, we can't stay in this room." Winslow looked around.

"Maybe we can give it one last full check-up," Gordon said.

Winslow nodded.

"You can open it and take a look," Winslow observed, "but be careful and take good notes."

Peter, holding his notebook, stood nearby and consciously moved to a safe distance.

Gordon picked up the scalpel again and pried open the box lid.

The dried interior, exposed to fluorescent light, emitted a unique, spiritual glow characteristic of this strange object.

Winslow leaned forward slightly.

"It's empty," Peter said.

“It wasn’t there to begin with,” Gordon said. “The Earl of Montfort said that when he bought the box, it was empty.”

"Indeed," Winslow said. "The truly good things aren't left to schools."

"But Professor, this shape doesn't resemble a typical collectible box," Gordon said, pointing to the groove inside the box.

Winslow’s attention immediately turned to the cavity itself.

He picked up the ruler and measured along the edge of the groove.

“This large recess…” Winslow said, “I’ve seen similar caskets in Lumin’s museum, which usually contain something even greater… such as large or even extra-large source matter.”

"I also believe that the casket once contained a source material." Gordon nodded.

Moreover, the power it left behind is so great that it has given birth to a child with limitless potential today.

"Then, the conclusions that are truly valuable for research are already very clear." Winslow gestured for Peter to take notes.

"March 30, 3E355. Sample container 1 continuously precipitated a liquid that could directionally induce Deepclaws. The precipitation activity ceased last night and this morning. The container is well-sealed, approximately 750 ml of precipitate has disappeared, and there is no significant loss of mass in the container..."

Peter quickly put pen to paper.

"...No intact source material was found upon opening the box. The recesses inside the box indicate that it was once used to hold specific items..."

Gordon looked at the empty nest.

The truly important thing was in a small brown bottle deep in his pocket.