Chapter Fifty-Two: The Drop of Life? The Spring of Vitality!

“Wuu wuu.”
Lapras carried Zhu Suihan to breakfast, and along the way, the Pokémon in the great lake all greeted them. It truly felt like coming home.
“Alright, alright, I’ll pay more attention next time,” Zhu Suihan mumbled, biting into a freshly made energizing berry stick.
“This time I was just inexperienced. Next time it won’t happen again.”
Next time, I’ll just roll out a sleeping mat in the lab. If things start going wrong, I’ll just pull up the covers and go straight to sleep!
“Wuu…”
Lapras shook her head helplessly, having already discerned from her trainer’s words the stubbornness that refused to change.
The day’s classes continued as usual, only the Pokémon featured in the lesson plans and videos had changed. For Zhu Suihan, however, it was all a breeze.
His perspective was entirely different—as an outsider to the Pokémon world, every bit of knowledge was fascinating to him, never dull.
Today's lesson was about making Pokéblocks, and Nurse Joy had initially planned to have Zhu Suihan share some tips on stage.
But after hearing his process, she quickly dismissed the idea.
To put it nicely: he had the flair of a master unconstrained by convention.
To put it bluntly: the very fact that he could produce Pokéblocks at all was absurd.
“So, when treating Pokémon like Sharpedo, everyone must be especially careful not to get hurt by the fine scales on their bodies.”
This was the final class of the day, covering how to protect oneself when treating dangerous Pokémon.
Sharpedo was used as an example—the Rough Skin ability is, in fact, related to its scales.
When sensing danger, Sharpedo becomes alert, and the fine, hard scales on its body stand erect.
It basically turns itself into a living morning star.
One misstep and, never mind humans—even other Pokémon could get hurt.
Given Sharpedo's notoriously savage temperament, Nurse Joy advised less experienced colleagues to have the trainer nearby during treatment.
Aside from the “Rough Skin” scales, there was another part of Sharpedo that posed a risk to doctors.
As everyone knows, in Galar, Sharpedo would chase you down relentlessly.
In Paldea, this dubious honor fell on Veluza, making trainers grind their teeth in frustration.
Veluza’s species trait is its incredible regenerative ability, almost like an extra “Shed Skin” ability.
Disgustingly, Veluza would shed its excess flesh to gain speed when hunting prey.
The Pokédex even mentions something about sharpening its mind through this act—a truly bizarre detail.
But it makes sense: once it’s shed its flesh, it becomes more vulnerable to stronger Pokémon, so it has to be even more cautious—a real Tarkov player, through and through.
A fully kitted player and one who enters the game with just a knife: barring veterans, the former is alert to danger, while the latter is more prone to anxiety.
Of course, sometimes the unarmed player isn’t even afraid of the fully armored ones.
So, here’s the question: how does Sharpedo manage to be as much of a menace as Veluza?
The answer lies in its physical structure.
Sharpedo is called the King of the Seas not because it’s a legendary, but because of its ferocity and its formidable short-range burst speed, reminiscent of a cheetah.
When pursuing prey, it expels powerful jets of water from its gills, demonstrating what it truly means to launch with jet propulsion.

If you need to touch Sharpedo’s tail during treatment, you’d better be careful, or risk getting smacked right in the face by a jet burst as strong as a hammer.
In a way, it’s not much different from being blasted in the face by a well-aimed fart.
That’s why Nurse Joy made it clear in class: when treating ferocious Pokémon like Sharpedo, a little trickery is allowed.
Moves like Hypnosis or Sing are permitted; otherwise, the procedure would be too hazardous, and the doctor could get hurt for nothing.
Zhu Suihan had no intention of getting a faceful from a Sharpedo, so he decided he’d greet such Pokémon with a sticky ball before starting any treatment.
With today’s classes over, Zhu Suihan stretched, picked up Lapras, and hurried off to the cafeteria for dinner before racing to the lab.
A day was enough for him to organize his workflow and thoughts; the rest was just a matter of production.
Even with the best of luck, he expected to fail a few times before successfully synthesizing the materials.
As long as he could confirm the material’s malleability and the shelf life of the property energy, the only thing left was to solve the charging and insulation device—then he could start making a profit.
“Upfront technology licensing fees, later profit shares… Oh ho ho, I’ve been waiting for those high-grade ultra-nutritious berries for so long.”
Lapras shook her head in her ball, speechless at her trainer's sudden outburst.
Thankfully, there was no one else around, or it would have been truly embarrassing.
The material synthesis went smoothly. Zhu Suihan manipulated various levers and buttons on the large screen, shaping the newly created material into a bottle.
It resembled the bottles used to hold fresh milk in Tom and Jerry, only shorter and stouter.
He wasted some materials and energy, as the bottle kept breaking halfway through shaping. Zhu Suihan could only adjust the input amounts gradually, edging closer to the perfect ratio.
Finally, a nearly flawless bottle appeared on the workbench, the high-density isolation boards around it withdrawn.
The bottle showed no abnormalities, meaning that under normal conditions, it wouldn’t spontaneously fracture.
“Did it work?”
Zhu Suihan gave the finished product a cursory glance, then rapidly tapped the control panel to record the manufacturing data.
If it succeeded, he could simply import this data into a new machine for industrial-scale production.
If it failed, he could analyze the data to pinpoint where the process went awry and keep improving.
“Maybe I should get a Togepi as a mascot in the future?”
The perfect duo—invincible in the world!
Zhu Suihan reconsidered, thinking it might not be wise.
Unless, like Golden Old Five, he raised one from an egg in a shady environment, only then would a Togepi hatch into a truly wicked mascot.
A spry, battle-hardened Togepi—now, wouldn’t that be intimidating?
A normal Togepi probably wouldn’t mesh with his methods.
No matter; his current success rate already inspired envy. There was no need for extra embellishments.
If nothing else, investors love people like Zhu Suihan who deliver results.
Serious research is always unpredictable—no one can say when results will come or if they’ll bring expected returns.
When costs hit a murky figure, it’s awkward—too expensive to continue, but too invested to quit.
As for the battery hub project, Zhu Suihan decided not to rush.
Once the product was out, there would be no need for him to worry about the rest.
He planned to test how long the bottle could preserve a Life Dew.
Ideally, it should last a week, and with nurturing and storage in the main machine, maybe push it to half a month.

A week per rotation would be enough to keep the cycle going.
After all, the situations the Joys face aren’t that complex—it’s not as if Arceus is sending down disasters every day.
Pokémon using Life Dew for storage and those aiding in treatment could be divided into two teams.
In other words, some Pokémon could focus on recharging the used bottles.
And if a Hoenn-scale disaster ever hit the entire League, even a flood of Life Dew might not help.
Holding the bottle, Zhu Suihan performed a few durability tests, even dropping it from the table.
“No cracks—good.”
Official tests would be much more rigorous, but at this early stage, there was no need to worry.
He left the lab, released Lapras, and placed the bottle on a bench by the road.
“Lapras, aim inside the bottle and use Life Dew.”
He added, “As long as it doesn’t affect your health, use it as many times as you can.”
“Wuu wuu.”
Lapras nodded seriously, aligned herself with the bottle’s opening, and began channeling her energy.
With her song and the surge of blue energy, drop after drop of Life Dew filled the bottle, soon forming a small pool of liquid.
“That’s enough. Thank you, thank you.”
Zhu Suihan rewarded Lapras with a few Pokéblocks, picked up the bottle, gave it a shake, and capped it.
The cap was made from the same material. Though it couldn’t preserve as well as vacuum storage, it wouldn’t leak easily.
“Now we just wait until tomorrow morning.”
He patted Lapras’s neck. “If we want to eat even better than now, it’ll depend on how this turns out.”
As for capturing a second partner on the same nutritional standard, Zhu Suihan thought he’d need to earn more money first.
“Wuu wuu?”
Zhu Suihan refused flatly, “No, if you secretly add more Life Dew, the research results will be ruined. We can’t do that.”
Lapras nodded, still confident in her trainer’s judgment—at least, when he wasn’t acting crazy.
“Let’s go. Even though it feels like a waste to leave the lab idle, there’s nothing particularly interesting to research at the moment.”
Zhu Suihan certainly didn’t plan to live off a reusable potion project forever, but this was a good start.
If nothing else, other than mental control devices, he was quite intrigued by the villains’ airships.
To achieve battleship-level ambitions, money, resources, and connections were all essential.
Why should villains be the only ones allowed to use them?
Then I’ll become a villain myself! (Not really.)
Technology is just technology; you can’t blame a weapon for being invented if it ends up hurting someone.