A desperate gamble—latching onto a pterosaur—had worked!

  Of course, he was now in free fall...

  The survival mission wasn’t over yet!

  He stretched out his limbs. The membranes tied to his hands and feet—made of pterosaur hide—unfolded wide.

  That pterosaur skin was a trophy.

  Just earlier, he’d pulled a small knife from his boot and sliced it from the first pterosaur corpse.

  If he hadn’t thrown those rocks to disrupt the intruder’s attack, the fight would’ve ended much sooner.

  And then the creatures might never have flown back home—they would’ve just rested on the spot.

  "Which means I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to cut off that pterosaur membrane. No way out."

  Besides, once startled, the one clutching him instinctively flew home—and their home happened to lie in the same direction.

  Otherwise, even if he’d landed safely from the tower, being in the heart of a savage land meant certain death!

  At first, the small boy glided like a flying squirrel, easing his descent.

  Then the membrane puffed up like bubblegum—becoming a parachute.

  He’d also brought the pterosaur egg, wrapped securely across his shoulders and waist.

  At last, he touched down safely—"Mission complete, touchdown secure!"

  And the egg?

  Looked like it had survived just fine.

  Calculations—locked in, execution—go.

  "In honor of the first pterosaur’s sacrifice... I’ll do my best to raise your egg."

  After all, befriending its offspring had always been part of the plan.

  Strangely enough, he felt it deep in his bones: Bringing back a few pterosaur eggs—that’s my calling.

  Speaking of which... why was there a metal knife hidden in his boot, and with a serrated edge no less?

  Sure, the serrations made it easier to slice through pterosaur wing membranes—but come on, this was clearly an anachronism!

  The blade even had a matte finish! That kind of craftsmanship came from the era when Sir Arthur was born!

  Humans had never retrieved eggs from these giant pterosaurs before—much less tamed one.

  But that was only true until today.

  ☆☆☆

  Tears-of-blood level challenge: confirmed and cleared.

  Empirical evaluation pending.

  ☆☆☆

  The story originally went like this...

  In the primordial ages, the world teemed with colossal reptiles, dinosaurs, and other ancient behemoths.

  Legend spoke of a “Skyrealm Hero” born in those prehistoric times.

  That hero succeeded in retrieving a pterosaur egg—and raised it, taming the beast.

  This singular act catapulted humanity’s aviation history thousands of years ahead, leaping from the Stone Age straight into the Air Age!

  Tribes passed down tales of his feats across generations.

  His legend spread far beyond the migratory paths their ancestors once carved by land or sea.

  As if, even in ancient days, humans had already soared through the skies—crossing towering mountains and vast oceans!

  The way these legends aligned with reality only deepened later generations' belief: this hero must have truly existed.

  ☆☆☆

  Looking down now: a futuristic indoor space, centered around a round table.

  Seated around it—one man, one woman, and a robot.

  “No surprise—it’s him.” The man wore a retro top hat and a violet-gray suit jacket.

  “He did pull it off...” The woman wore a yellow pleated dress, long gloves, and a wide-ribbon hat.

  “Exactly.”

  “But what was with throwing rocks to mess up the fight? That wasn’t in the script.”

  “The main structure of the scenario was his doing too. All we ever got from him was the method.”

  “Method? He nearly blew up the whole script!”

  “Which only proves his wit—and his creativity, his innovation. Ha!”

  “What it reminds me of is one of those directors who go off-script and change things on set.”

  “Adjusting to reality is perfectly reasonable,” the man said, palms up.

  “Adjusting? More like sabotage!”

  “Construction, maintenance—real-world operations are rarely clean-cut. The ones who can adapt on the fly? They’re the true experts.”

  “So you’re saying he assessed the situation and made the call right then and there?”

  “That’s exactly why I admire him so much.”

  Quick thinking under pressure.

  Pioneering creativity.

  Keen observational depth.

  Logic that leaps from clue to conclusion.

  “And you just keep hyping him up!” The woman threw both arms up in a V.

  “He deserves it!”

  “And that I.Q. 180 ‘elite-tier genius’ rating? That’s your doing too,” she added with deliberate sarcasm.

  “Ultra-high intelligence is only one part of his skill set.”

  “That’s exactly why you keep hyping him up!”

  “Come on, we’ve all seen how capable he is in execution. He’s no armchair strategist, spouting theories without action! It’s like how Sir Arthur created Sherlock Holmes—yet could solve real cases himself. And this mission? Pretty much a detective gig.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure. What do you think, Mr. Robot?”

  Bzzt, bzzzt—the robot, roughly box-shaped with rounded edges...

  Responded in its mechanical tone: “Subjectively and objectively analyzed, this specimen demonstrates superior abilities across multiple domains—”

  Strategic planning.

  Tactical execution.

  Solo combat capability.

  Man: “Exactly. And don’t forget his quick adaptation and creativity.”

  Bot: “Additionally, he exhibited meticulous thinking—employing a two-step method to verify the pterosaur’s death.”

  Woman: “So basically, a smart brawler.”

  Man: “Anyone who can fight is just a brawler to you?”

  Woman: “Didn’t you use the word ‘fight’? Congratulations, you’ve proven my point.”

  The man seized on that, raising his brows and widening his eyes—“Twisting my words!”

  “Pfft.” She tugged down her lower eyelid and stuck out her tongue.

  Bot: “Combat is often unavoidable. Recruiting a highly capable combatant—especially one of superior intellect—is statistically sound.”

  Woman: “Well, in a way, the mission was set in the wilderness.”

  Man: “Exactly. And he proved himself—ace-level performance in a savage-world trial.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Bot: “It would appear... no—undoubtedly—this unit concurs: there is no one better suited.”

  Man: “And don’t forget his sheer will to survive! That wasn’t even part of his original profile.”

  Bot: “Affirmative. This round of data confirms: the subject is not only highly capable, but also exceptionally resilient.”

  Woman: “This time, we cannot afford failure!”

  Man: “He’s clearly the closest we’ve come to success.”

  Woman: “Just remember—once deployment is finalized, tracking the subject becomes way harder.”

  She pointed upward, tracing a line through the air—

  A gesture familiar in these parts: like a starship leaving the system, or a kite with its string cut—beyond recovery from the ground.

  “……” The robot’s signal lights blinked red-gold at her choice of phrase: deployment finalized.

  Man, teasing: “Finalized? What are you now, an assembly line OP? EE? PE?” He frowned theatrically, mocking her jargon.

  Woman: “I’m hungry, alright? Can’t I just deploy a dumpling? Or does it have to be wontons or goldfish-shaped dumplings?”

  “That works too.” The man shot a glance at the robot.

  “Mechanical units don’t get hungry. I wouldn’t know.” It shook its head—or rather, swayed it in a sideways figure-eight motion.

  Woman: “He wasn’t asking if you’re hungry.”

  Man: “It’s doing it on purpose, clearly!” He threw up his hands.

  Bot: “So, is the decision final? Failure is not an option.”

  Man raised a clenched fist: “Exactly because we can’t fail again—we need to bring in this near-IQ-180 specimen!”

  Woman: “One-eighty—yeah, but don’t forget that once someone enters the field, cognitive function takes a hit.”

  Bot: “It may drop to 130, 115… or even lower.”

  Man: “Which is why we need someone who starts at 180!”

  Woman: “But he did unnecessary things, didn’t he…”

  Bot: “Affirmative. Data shows he clearly intended to threaten the pterosaur with the egg, and threw rocks to disrupt the fight.”

  Woman: “Exactly! Risky and irregular moves like that—he’s adding variables and danger!”

  Man: “What else could he have done in that situation?”

  Woman: “It shows he’s unpredictable! Behavioral deviation is high risk!”

  Bot: “If we’re being honest… he does exhibit signs of a chuuni-phase personality. Seems he even cracks jokes to himself.”

  Woman: “What?! He’s joking with himself in a life-or-death wildland crisis?! Amusing himself?!”

  Man: “Ahem—those traits can all be explained. They even come with advantages—”

  Woman: “Oh? What advantages? Go ahead, enlighten me.”

  Man: “When the situation turned, he quickly picked up on it and improvised a new strategy. That kind of reflex—you’ve got to admire his instincts.”

  Bot: “Indeed. In the end, he successfully retrieved the pterosaur egg. Objective achieved.”

  Woman: “And the chuuni stuff?”

  Man: “Feigning chuuni—self-mocking humor—is also a method of introspective relief. A coping mechanism.”

  Woman: “Now you’re really reaching.”

  Man: “Look at how he stayed light-hearted, even playful—even in a life-or-death moment. That proves he’s not the type to spiral into obsession. Meanwhile you’re still busy—cracking the dragon egg open to pick at flaws.”

  Woman: “Dragon egg, huh…”

  Robot: “HA! HA! HA!”

  “…” Both turned to glance at each other, visibly puzzled by the unnervingly stiff, synthetic laugh.

  Humans, of course, often fake robotic laughter—‘ha ha ha’ in a deliberately mechanical tone.

  But now, hearing an actual robot perform the robotic laugh…

  One couldn’t help but wonder if it was mimicking humans mimicking machines. The uncanny effect was… difficult to describe.

  Bot: “Speaking of the dragon egg—he not only secured it for transport, he even partitioned the packaging.”

  Woman: “Well, duh. Same as supermarket eggs—you don’t separate them, see how that goes.”

  Man: “Exactly. Shows he’s detail-oriented. The more you nitpick, the more you’re proving he’s too good.”

  Bot: “Correction—what I mean is, he considered the risk of crushing the egg. Unlike you humans with dumplings—you know the wrappers stick together, freeze into a block, tear when reheated, stuffing spills during transport—yet you still won’t separate them or coat them with a bit of sesame oil to keep them from sticking. Even a robot understands that much.”

  “…” That roast left both of them momentarily speechless.

  Woman: “Hold up! You just said you don’t get hungry—how do you know all this about dumpling logistics?”

  Robot: “Heh heh. This unit appreciates humor too. Ha—ha—ha—ha.”

  Man raised both hands in surrender: “Alright, I give up. Ha—ha—ha.”

  Woman: “And don’t forget, he even thought of bubblegum.”

  Man: “Right. Back during the Q&A test, he was chewing gum the whole time.”

  Bot: “Memory resurfacing is a sign of lucid dreaming. The awareness of dreaming is an advanced cognitive trait—key to resisting intelligence suppression!”

  Man: “Or maybe it just came to him.”

  Woman: “Technically, he shouldn’t remember anything.”

  Man: “That’s why I said—it was coincidence.”

  The woman slammed both palms on the table and stood. “So what now? You turning on the guy you kept praising?”

  The man shrugged with a wry smile. “Says the pot to the kettle.”

  “Peace!” The robot stepped in between. “In any case—this calls for another test, yes?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “A rare moment of agreement between you two.”

  “As long as the mission succeeds, trivial ego? This lady doesn’t carry even a speck of it.”

  “The stakes are critical. This time, failure is absolutely not an option!”

  “This unparalleled intelligence unit concurs: revalidation is warranted.”

  “Unparalleled…?” the two muttered under their breath.

  “Despite extremely limited resources and time, one more trial is essential.”

  “Luckily, time flows differently inside and out. Otherwise, we wouldn’t still be joking around here.”

  “Like how just a few minutes in reality can stretch into days—or longer—in a dream.”

  Woman: “Oh yeah, and when everything’s gone to hell… that’s the perfect time to joke around.”

  “……”

  “In any case, the test won’t go to waste. Might even benefit the subject in some way.”

  “Then let’s get to it…”

  Next test—

  “This time, it’s his full-power form. So keep your eyes wide open… and watch him go all out!”