Chapter 902: Chapter 896: Confusion
In the laboratory, Inomata Naoki stretched, moving his arms and neck, stiff from maintaining the sa posture for too long. He tidied up the scattered items on the desk and then finally stood up from his seat.
Scientific research had always been an exceedingly dull and tedious endeavor, especially in the field of biodicine. Many tis, it involved conducting an enormous number of repetitive experints, continuously accumulating experintal data and samples, comparing different results, and extracting the desired findings from the process.
Such a process was often extrely lengthy. It might take tens of thousands of identical experints to produce just a dozen or even one or two valuable experintal results. Sotis, tens of thousands of experints might not even yield the desired results.
Doing research often felt like buying lottery tickets—persistently hoping that one day, a big prize would co your way.
But in reality, the odds of hitting the jackpot in scientific research were far slimr than buying a lottery ticket. With a lottery, as long as you invest enough money and buy enough numbers, your chances of winning increntally increase since the combinations of ticket numbers are finite.
However, scientific research had no such limits.
It was about searching for the sole correct answer among countless possibilities. If you were going in the wrong direction, you might spend years—or even decades—without obtaining it.
Even if you found the correct path, uncovering the answer required prolonged exploration and a vast amount of tedious, repetitive experints to finally bring it to light.
The ti and energy consud in this process, along with the enormous research funding burned through, were unimaginable to ordinary people.
It was like back when Chen Yu and Inomata Naoki were still at the University of Tokyo, working on broad-spectrum anti-cancer drugs. Even though Chen Yu had the correct formula in hand, it was only after conducting nurous experints that they finally determined the right chemical composition and dosage.
During that ti, setting aside the effort and dedication they poured into the research, just the dozens of lab mice consud in each experint represented a significant expense.
When their research funds ran dry, Chen Yu and Inomata Naoki even had to scrimp on their own als to buy lab mice for experints.
If not for Kohinata Kaori occasionally helping them out and Professor Kube constantly applying for additional funding, it was uncertain whether the research project could have been completed at all.
But that was all in the past. For Inomata Naoki now, since Chen Yu had successfully developed the broad-spectrum anti-cancer drug, the laboratory was enjoying essentially unlimited research funding. Every condition was t, and everything was provided at the highest standards.
Money? There was money. Personnel? They had personnel. You could say that as long as Chen Yu’s research required it, whether it was the Eastern University Affiliated Hospital or the Japanese Governnt, they would offer their fullest support.
Thus, the only thing Inomata Naoki needed to worry about was the progress of the research.
It was precisely because of this favorable setup that during the week after returning from Kyoto, he practically hadn’t stepped outside the laboratory, eating and sleeping there, just to complete his current experints as quickly as possible.
Though, admittedly, part of it was also an attempt to use work to forget the lingering impact of the dream he experienced in Kyoto.
He had to admit—work was indeed the best way to forget one’s troubles. Imrsed in work for an entire week, Inomata Naoki found himself with neither the ti nor energy to dwell on the strange sensations left by that dream. For seven straight days, his undivided attention stayed on the experints before him.
But the mont Inomata Naoki stopped working to take a break, the emotions he’d suppressed all week would resurface from deep within him, unavoidably bringing Minami to mind.
Initially, Inomata Naoki thought he could quickly forget the odd feelings evoked by that dream, but it was clear he hadn’t. On the contrary, the week’s work seed to intensify those emotions.
This feeling left Inomata Naoki vexed. He couldn’t recall exactly what he had experienced in that dream, yet the sensation rising from his heart seed to suggest that he had once loved with deep, unforgettable passion. But now, he had forgotten the person, the emotions, and the experiences he was supposed to rember—leaving behind only an inexplicable hollowness and a stirring emotion, reminding him that sothing had slipped from his grasp.
The emptiness and vague sense of loss in his heart stirred in him an impulse to smoke, though he didn’t even have the habit of smoking.
This feeling of wanting to ease his gloom but having no outlet made Inomata Naoki increasingly dejected. The urge to vent but with no avenue to do so left him deeply uncomfortable.
Taking out his phone, Inomata Naoki originally intended to call his girlfriend to relieve so of his frustration. But at that mont, he suddenly rembered the strong feelings he experienced whenever he saw Minami. This hesitation caused him to falter.
After so thought, Inomata Naoki put his phone away, said a quick goodbye to a research colleague nearby, and left the laboratory. Exiting the hospital, he made his way to Minami’s little shop.
By the ti Inomata Naoki arrived at Minami’s shop, it was already evening and the city lights were lit. The shop had begun its business for the day, with warm yellow light seeping out from its entrance, creating a cozy atmosphere.
Even though it was only his second visit, for so reason, standing at the shop’s entrance gave Inomata Naoki a nostalgic feeling, as though he’d been here countless tis before. The shop evoked a sense of mories and familiarity.
Inomata Naoki knew this was just an illusion, brought on by the experiences he’d had in the dream, causing this sense of familiarity.
This realization left Inomata Naoki inwardly annoyed, quietly blaming Chen Yu for creating this situation that left him trapped in a confusion of dream and reality.
But regardless, Inomata Naoki still pushed open the shop’s door and stepped inside.
“Welco!” Minami, dressed in a neat, dark blue outfit, was jotting down custors’ orders in a small notebook. Hearing the door open, she instinctively greeted the newcor. But as she raised her head and saw Inomata Naoki, her greeting shifted unexpectedly into: “Long ti no see! The usual?”
Despite it being only his second visit, Minami’s casual “the usual”—a phrase one might use for a regular—ca out naturally. What should have been odd felt completely normal between the two. Without giving it a second thought, Inomata Naoki nodded and replied, “The usual. Another cup of…”
“I know, oolong tea.” Minami smiled, turning to the kitchen.
Watching Minami’s figure as she disappeared into the kitchen, Inomata Naoki sat down at a seat. For reasons unknown, the agitation in his heart had vanished entirely, leaving only a sense of peace.
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