Stock

The senior researcher of the Majark Republic was wearing a smug grin.

The competing Synthetic Magical Beast Project had conveniently collapsed on its own, making the Artificial Demon Project the leading candidate.

While the Synthetic Magical Beast Project aimed to surpass human limitations by combining magical beasts, the Artificial Demon Project used "Red Horns" to grant inhuman power.

Red Horns were created by refining the magic stones of a dungeon monster called the Red Demon. Their defining feature was how easily they could be multiplied.

By using enemy soldiers and such as "stock", the Red Horns could multiply several times over. The multiplied Red Horns would then be properly processed and used to enhance allied soldiers.

When using them on allies, proper sealing procedures would allow for safe usage… in theory. That part was still under research.

"We must keep multiplying the Red Horns for further research! I shall carve my name into Majark's history as a great researcher!!"

The project was progressing smoothly.

It had been progressing smoothly. Until that moment.

The assistants returned to the room.

"Hey, assistants. Did you properly feed the stock? Did they still have enough vitality to eat?"

"… …"

The assistant gave a jerky nod.

Their movements were stiff. As if they were feeling ill.

"Kukuku, is that so, is that so. A new survival record then. But hey. Do you lot have a cold? How pathetic. You lack spirit! The joy of being involved in my research should drive away any illness! Get over it instantly! And don't pass it to me!"

Chiding his listless assistants, he put pen to paper to work out the Red Horn deployment plan.

Cold… medicine… That's it! What about pulverizing them and using them as medicine? If we suppress them with the holy attribute that repels demons, they should function as a temporary enhancement drug.

Since Red Horns can be multiplied indefinitely, there's no problem using them as consumables.

"We must properly verify the safe dosage for humans, as well as the lethal dose. Humans are more refined and delicate than those savage beasts, so careful calibration is needed. The lethal dose would probably be…"

Ahh, this is fun. Research is fun. Ideas just keep flowing endlessly.

And to conduct experiments, we must indeed mass-produce the Red Horns.

"Yes, let's use two or three more as stock to grow them simultaneously. There was a spirited, insolent one… Hm?"

Before he knew it, both assistants were standing behind him, peering at his notes.

"Hey! Are you trying to steal my research!? I told you to just do what I say and nothing more!"

"… …"

"Hey, say something, you dullard! Honestly, when I was young, I took initiative and…"

As the researcher raised his voice to lecture them, one of the assistants firmly grabbed hold of him.

"Wh-what are you doing!? Hey! Get this one off me!"

"How do you remove the Red Horn?"

"You!? That voice—you're not my assistant, are you!? A spy come to steal my brilliant, genius research!?"

Damn it, which research lab—no, which country? Must be a spy, he thought, listing candidates in his head, then realized it didn't matter either way.

"Answer me. How do you remove the Red Horn?"

"Ha. Did you think I would answer that honestly?"

He tried to shift toward the emergency alarm button hidden under his desk, but felt cold metal pressed against his neck and his body stiffened. Are you insane? You'd throw away this genius intellect? No, wait—if they're spies from an enemy nation, that would only benefit them—he realized.

An opponent for whom killing him would be a clear benefit. He had to handle this carefully or he'd really be killed.

Right, they're asking about removal methods. He could use that.

"… It can only be removed through surgery. Urgh, a-and it requires special procedures that only I can perform. And don't bother searching the documents. Only I know them."

"Tell me those procedures."

"Yes, I'll explain. But it's difficult to convey verbally, so let me go."

The moment they loosened their grip even slightly, he'd hit the button and flee. That was his plan.

"Explain verbally first."

"… If I answer, will you guarantee my life?"

"At least if you don't answer, I can't guarantee it."

Stab. Pain shot through him. His leg. They stabbed his leg!

"Gyaaah!? Wh-what are you, you bastard! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!"

"Whether you perform surgery or explain, hands are all you need, right? Answer quickly. Your attitude reminds me of a former boss and it's pissing me off."

"F-fine, I'll talk, I'll talk… F-first, you apply powdered unicorn horn, um, and then… you must not make them drink the activator. Ahh, it hurts, it hurts…!"

He tried to cobble together a plausible explanation, but the pain kept his mind from working.

"No wait, you apply the activator around it. Yes. With a brush—a brush made from boa hair works best."

"Hey, is this actually true? You're not just making stuff up, are you?"

"Th-that's, that's, that's not true at all…"

Found out? Did they figure it out? That no such method exists in the first place.

The Red Horn, still in the research phase, hadn't yet established a safe removal method even for small implants. If implanted in an arm, the only option was to cut off the arm before it was fully consumed.

The more the researcher tried to hide this, the more his eyes darted around.

"First, demonstrate by removing the horn from that beastkin with the red horn in the cell. If her life is saved, I'll spare you too."

"… That's impossible."

"Huh?"

"Th-that's impossible! That thing is stock! Stock for multiplying the Red Horns—there's no way even I could do anything about it! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Huh??"

Don't these intruders understand basic logic!! The researcher's pain gave way to anger.

"Of course stock is disposable! It has Red Horns implanted throughout its entire body to let them take root—cutting them off would obviously kill it! Besides, it's already reached the end of its lifespan! Turning a boiled egg back into a raw egg would be easier!"

"Cutting off the implanted areas—that's the correct removal method, then."

"…! Th-"

"… Then you're useless now. Miiti-chan, you can eat him."

No way. Before he could say it, the researcher saw.

The other one—not the one holding him down—stripped off their hazmat suit, and whoosh, spread out transparent slime.

That's… a Slime? Could it be… from the Synthetic Magical Beast Project?

"Eek!? N-no, eating, what!? M-me!? Don't be ridicu—"

"NOM NOMS!!"

The sentient slime descended onto the researcher's face. A wet splat, a brief chill, then pressure and heat from acid, a single instant of pain, and then—

Squelch.