Harvest and Dying of Old Age

Inside Mentor Clark's laboratory, Benjamin was hunched over, processing a set of complex energy-flow data.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viola sighing over a pile of rune-structure diagrams. Her pretty face, usually carrying a hint of teasing or languid amusement, was now wrinkled like a bitter melon.

"Senior, what's wrong this time? The war is over, isn't it?" Benjamin couldn't help pausing his work to ask curiously.

Viola abruptly raised her head and glared at him viciously, as if she had found an outlet for her emotions. "Over? Yes, it's over! But what did I get out of this trip?! Not a damn thing!"

The more she spoke, the angrier she became. She jabbed her finger hard at the data on the virtual screen, as though it were her sworn enemy. "Aside from wasting several years in that godforsaken place, living in fear, and then being forced into recuperation! To shorten that damn recuperation period, I even sunk a huge amount of Advanced Military Merit into it! And what did I get? Resources? Knowledge? The pitiful scraps I brought back aren't even enough to fill the gaps between my teeth! The most infuriating part is that I was already buried under debt to begin with!

"This is just perfect—adding frost to snow, and sending me completely bankrupt!"

The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. By the end, she was practically roaring, having completely lost her usual elegance and composure.

Nearby, Mentor Clark was carefully adding some stardust-flashing powder into a miniature reaction core.

Hearing this, he did not even raise his head. He merely interjected flatly, "An unstable foundation, and a rush for quick results. I told you long ago to accumulate more knowledge before taking action. If you had accumulated enough, how could