【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

I could feel those gazes, but I ignored them. I squatted on the ground, like a thief doing something shady, quickly burying the soybeans in the soil of the flowerpot and carefully pouring more soil on top, afraid to disturb the seedling on the table.

I could still faintly hear the teacher's voice, but my attention was completely focused on the soybeans in my hand. There was no way around it; this situation was making me more nervous than the exam itself. Even though I knew the lesson was important, I couldn't focus. What if this seedling somehow wiped out my seeds again? That would be a complete social disaster.

"Don't move, don't move..." I prayed silently as I fiddled with the seeds. Every time I planted a seed, I would quickly glance up at the seedling on the table, afraid that it would suddenly make some unexpected movement.

After finally finishing planting the seeds, I squatted on the ground and breathed a sigh of relief, but I was still worried. Although I was temporarily out of the seedling's "sphere of influence", who knew if it had any other strange tricks?

After planting the seeds, the long wait always seems tedious and boring, especially when you know there's little hope of those seeds germinating successfully.

Before they were brought to me, the seeds in my hand were scanned with a specialized agricultural life detector to ensure they possessed viable potential. Even so, I remained pessimistic about their fate. After all, under the shadow of that green seedling, any plant would become vulnerable. The shriveled soybean seed just now was proof of this.

Declaring the experiment a failure wasn't complicated; all it took was another scan with the life detector. If it showed no signs of life, it was confirmed the seeds had completely lost their vitality. Determining a successful experiment was even simpler and more direct—a single seedling was enough to prove it all.

I looked down at the soybean seeds I had just planted, and gently fiddled with the soil in the pot, trying to adjust the environment for them to grow in. But I couldn't help but feel a surge of worry.

The green seedling on the table remained calm and composed, its appearance as if nothing had happened. Yet, its unique presence constantly weighed on me. It was like a master standing over its territory, observing the struggles of the other plants with a cold eye, as if everything was under its control.

I sighed, set the flowerpot aside, and tried to distance myself from the seedling. This feeling was so strange. I was clearly raising a plant, but why did it feel like I was caring for a monster that could cause trouble at any moment?

My eyes fell on the seedling on the table again. Its green color looked bright and vibrant under the lights of the classroom, and my soybean seeds seemed so insignificant compared to it.

Looking at the cyan seedling on the table, I couldn't help but squint. Although it still looked motionless, its cyan seemed brighter, and the fine lines along the edges of its leaves radiated a hint of life. Clearly, its condition had recovered, evidently absorbing vitality from somewhere.

And that “somewhere”…

I looked down at the flowerpot on the ground, and a sudden feeling of irritation washed over me. Shortly after planting the soybean seeds, it felt as if a force was being pulled away from them—a unique feeling of vitality, imperceptible to the naked eye but clearly etched in my intuition.

I sneered inwardly. Sure enough, this creature would not let go of any "nutrients". No matter how carefully I planted the soybean seeds in a flowerpot far above the ground, I could not escape its "clutches".

It's more than just territorial; it's downright predatory.

I reached out and poked at the soil in the pot, trying to confirm the condition of the seeds. But the more I fiddled, the more I felt a vague sense of emptiness, as if the life force that should have emanated from the soybean seeds had been sucked dry, leaving only empty shells.

Looking up at the seedling again, each of its leaves seemed to be silently expressing its satisfaction, and even its standing posture was more upright than before.

I gritted my teeth, feeling helpless and angry - it simply didn't bother to hide its true nature.

"Why don't you suck other seeds?" I stared at the green seedling and whispered with gritted teeth. I almost wanted to reach out and pinch its slender stem and shake it hard.

Of course, it didn't respond, still standing there quietly, as if nothing had happened. But the green tinge on its leaves was like a silent provocation, clearly showing the vitality it had plundered from my soybean seeds.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Its indifference felt even more like a mockery—it had clearly absorbed its "nutrients," yet acted as if it was a matter of course, without even a hint of guilt or scruples, as if this was the way the world operated, and I was merely an intruder in its domain.

"There are so many flower pots and so many seeds, why do you choose mine?" I lowered my voice, but my eyes were fixed on it, as if it could really understand what I said.

Its silence left me feeling absurd and powerless. Ultimately, I could only look away, a simmering anger within me. It was clearly telling me in some way that it only chose what it wanted, and I happened to be the one it had its eye on.

My eyes fell on the seedlings on the table, and a thought suddenly flashed through my mind. Since it can devour the vitality of soybean seeds, why can't I use plant seeds as "feed" to feed it?

I used to be obsessed with the fact that it was sucking nutrients from me, and even felt angry and helpless about it, but now I think, maybe this seedling is not picky about food. It can suck nutrients from me and seeds, so why not try using seeds instead?

Although its current behavior suggests it's more inclined to plunder more "fresh" energy, seeds are, after all, a source of vitality. With the right approach, perhaps I can keep feeding it seeds to grow, rather than having me become its "mobile energy bank."

I looked down at the flowerpot on the ground. The drained soybean seeds looked like shrunken remains, a horrible sight, but they were the best result of my experiment. I looked up at the seedling. It was still safe and sound, its green leaves gleaming slightly, as if it was completely unconcerned with my temptations and plans.

"Maybe I can give it a try," I muttered to myself, already having a preliminary plan in mind. If it works, this might be a key step in escaping the plundering of it.

Instead of letting it constantly absorb nutrients from me, I might as well feed it with seeds. This will not only allow it to grow, but also allow me to temporarily escape from this silent war of attrition.