"CP 1765, December 28. 154 days have passed since landing. Local time: AD 2017, January 6."
"Money — what comes to mind most when you hear that word? Even if it is not the scenes of people frenzied over it, it must be a close second. I have ample evidence to believe the concept of money is universal across civilisations and species, wherever capital needs to circulate. I really shouldn't presume to judge this, but at least right now, it seems I'm working for money once again."
"Anyway, Ye Min says he is the one
to handle the patent application, which probably means he is going to find an expert to deal with the legal side of things. I just need to provide the technology. Ironically, though, I'm currently more concerned about the chance to travel than about applying for a technology patent. I wasn't always this kind of person. How profoundly our environment shapes us."
"Even more ironic is that I've grown somewhat unaccustomed to not having those folks in the central barking orders at me all day..."
"Ye Min seems intent on taking me back to his lab again tonight. I'm intrigued to see what his next move will be. Frankly, judging by previous sessions, it'll likely involve blood draws. Not that I doubt their sterilization techniques, but I have to admit I'm a bit scared. Then again, considering I haven't died from diarrhoea yet, maybe I shouldn't complain too much..."
"I think I can figure out Ye Min's current state of mind. Put simply, he's eager to touch my head, but the agreement is holding him back — plus that fox is serving as a distraction. I doubt he can hold out much longer. It's obvious he's been craving it more and more lately. It's hard to understand why he's so obsessed with touching my head. This clearly goes beyond cultural aesthetics. Could it be that they're just naturally drawn to fox-like skulls?"
"Weather-wise, yesterday's rain is still falling. I feel like it's already damp enough here, but I hear this isn't even the wettest part of the country. At least they don't have the hassle of their fur getting completely soaked... on that note, I've prepared some homemade evaporators using alcohol."
***
"Is this the invention you're planning to present?" Min's voice suddenly emerges from behind him.
Xi P nearly jumps out of his skin. Perhaps he's too absorbed in writing, but he completely didn't hear Min's arrival. He glances back with a hint of irritation. Min is indeed standing there, leaning forward slightly, but his gaze passes over Xi P's shoulder and fixes on the screen.
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Noticing Xi P is merely staring back without a word, Min repeats himself.
"It's a kind of... uh... membrane for medical use." Xi P strains to find the right words.
Min has to resist the urge to ruffle his head, as he says soothingly: "Take your time explaining."
Xi P then spends the next ten minutes attempting to explain the thing he's showing to Min. The concept itself is fairly straightforward. It's essentially a three-in-one product combining an antibacterial spray, artificial skin, and a band-aid. The liquid sprayed from the nozzle solidifies on wounds at an incredible speed, forming a tough, impermeable film. The edges of this film adhere tightly to the surrounding skin, effectively stopping low-pressure bleeding. It's genuinely a remarkable concept. However, just for some reason, Min's first thought is of its potential use on the battlefield...
If Xi P's memory serves him correctly, this kind of spray has been around in Lierus for over thirty years, a well-established piece of technology that has become an indispensable part of every household's first aid kit. It has nearly phased out small fabric bandages like Band-Aids, marking a considerable medical revolution. There are drawbacks, though: first, the film's adhesion to skin is often disrupted by the fur, though this shouldn't be an issue for humans. Second, it proves ineffective on severe bleeding wounds, where its performance might even fall short of Band-Aids. Yet its superiority on most injuries is undeniable...
As he talks, Xi P searches his computer and pulls up an image which he shows to Min. It depicts a tuefue lying face-down on a hospital bed. Scratch-like wounds are visible across her body, each covered by a layer of dark yellow membrane. The fur around her wounds has been shaved off, lending her an utterly grotesque appearance.
Xi P points at the image, the implication clear.
Min, however, notices something else. There's a distinct gash on her right ear, freshly bandaged. He points to her ear and asks: "What happened to him?"
"It's her." Xi P thinks.
Xi P replies, "She did this — " and pulls his own right ear towards his mouth, mimicking a bite.
Surprise flashes across Min's face.
Xi P doesn't seem interested in elaborating further. He only adds, "Because she had an issue there," and gestures towards his own head.
"I can see that." Min thinks to himself. Then he asks: "How viable do you think this spray is for humans?"
"Extreme viable," replies Xi P without hesitation, "It doesn't rely on blood reactions, but on air and the keratin layer of the skin surface."
"Are you really sure?" Min is still sceptical.
"Then, wait me a moment.”
With that, Xi P turns and leaves the room. He returns about a minute later, holding two objects. The cylinder in his left hand looks like a spray can, its contents obvious. But the object in his right hand... is a kitchen cleaver.
This startles Min. He shrieks in alarm: "What are you doing?! I believe you, all right?!"
