Bio-engineered Dinosaur in the immortal world

Elder Fan Ming's expression twisted into something unrecognizable—his usually smug, composed face now an ugly mix of fear, frustration, and sheer panic.

His breath hitched.

His fingers trembled.

His mind raced, searching desperately for a solution, an excuse, anything that would shift the blame away from himself.

"No—no, this can't be happening—this wasn't supposed to happen—"

His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the horrified faces of the breeder disciples, scanning the stunned expressions of the elders, scanning the writhing, convulsing form of Angola, who was barely clinging to life.

The murmurs began.

Soft at first.

Barely whispers.

But then—

The voices grew.

"Did… Did Elder Fan Ming mess up?"

"No way… He's an expert, right? He wouldn't make a mistake like this…"

"Then why is Angola like that?!"

"Wait, what if the recipe was wrong in the first place? What if Zou Fang messed up?"

"But Zou Fang didn't make the feed! Elder Fan Ming guided Elder Fu! How could it be Zou Fang's fault?!"

"Then—who's responsible?!"

The whispers swirled into a storm of accusations.

The pressure mounted.

Elder Fan Ming felt his heart pounding, his chest tightening, his vision narrowing.

He needed to act.

He needed to act now.

And so—

He did.

His hand shot out, his trembling finger pointing directly at Zou Fang.

"YOU!" Elder Fan Ming roared, his voice laced with barely concealed desperation.

"This is your fault!"

Zou Fang, who had been watching with narrowed eyes, froze.

For a moment, he simply blinked.

Then—

"Huh?"

Elder Fan Ming's face twisted further, his panic morphing into a forced, defensive rage.

"I only followed your recipe! This disaster is because of you!"

The room fell silent.

Zou Fang's eyes widened—then sharpened.

The audacity.

The shamelessness.

The sheer, unparalleled nerve of this old man.

He felt something in his chest ignite—a burning, all-consuming mix of fury and disbelief.

And then—

He laughed.

It wasn't a friendly laugh.

It wasn't even an amused laugh.

It was cold.

Mocking.

Sharp enough to cut through bone.

"What?" Zou Fang tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Did you just say you followed my recipe?"

His voice was slow.

Deliberate.

Dangerous.

Elder Fan Ming flinched.

But Zou Fang wasn't done.

"Are you telling me… That the feed pill you created, the one that's currently killing Angola… Was made using my recipe?"

He took a step forward.

Elder Fan Ming instinctively took a step back.

Zou Fang's eyes glowed with an unmistakable sharpness—like a beast that had just spotted prey.

"Then tell me, old man—"

His voice dropped into something deadly.

"When, exactly, did I hand you my recipe?"

Elder Fan Ming paled.

He opened his mouth—

Then shut it.

His lips parted again—

No words came out.

The room watched.

The disciples, the elders, everyone—watching.

Waiting.

For him to explain.

For him to justify himself.

For him to prove that he wasn't lying through his teeth.

Seconds stretched.

And then—

A scream.

A gut-wrenching, soul-shaking, blood-curdling scream—

From Angola.

The massive beast thrashed.

Its body arched.

Its muscles bulged unnaturally.

Its veins pulsed beneath its fur, glowing a sickly, unnatural gold.

The sound was horrific.

Raw.

Unfiltered pain.

It reverberated through the chamber, shaking the very air, digging into the bones of everyone present.

Some disciples stumbled back.

Others covered their ears.

Even Elder Fu's expression darkened.

It was the kind of sound that could haunt a person's nightmares.

Zou Fang's breath hitched.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

"Elder Fu!" One of the disciples shouted. "What's happening to Angola?!"

Elder Fu stepped forward, his face grim.

He placed a hand on Angola's massive side, his spiritual energy sinking into the beast's body.

His brows furrowed.

His frown deepened.

Then—

His eyes widened.

And his voice came out cold.

"Angola… could die anytime now."

The words sent a chill through the room.

The murmurs stopped.

The fear amplified.

Some disciples gasped.

Some froze in horror.

Zou Fang, however—

He gritted his teeth.

Then, without hesitation—

He stepped forward.

His voice was firm.

Steady.

Unyielding.

"Alright."

He exhaled.

"Let me fix him."

Elder Fan Ming's face twisted with frustration and growing desperation as he snapped, "How can you fix this when I used your recipe?!"

His voice carried an air of forced confidence, as if he could convince everyone that Zou Fang had no right to intervene—that Zou Fang was responsible for this disaster. But deep down, he knew the truth.

Zou Fang's eyes narrowed. His expression turned sharp, his stance unshaken, as if Elder Fan Ming's accusations were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. He took a slow step forward, tilting his head slightly as he exhaled.

Then, he spoke.

"You think you used my recipe?" His voice was calm, dangerously calm.

Elder Fan Ming flinched, but before he could respond, Zou Fang continued.

"No, old man. What you did… was use your version of my recipe. And that—" he gestured toward Angola's writhing, agonized body, "—is exactly why it's failing."

Elder Fan Ming's mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

Zou Fang took another step forward.

"Let me guess—" he began, voice laced with mock curiosity, "you thought, 'Oh, Zou Fang must've made a mistake somewhere. There's no way a mere disciple could create something this effective.'"

His smirk deepened.

"So instead of following it exactly, you—a so-called expert—decided to tweak it, correct it, 'improve' it."

Elder Fan Ming stiffened.

Zou Fang let out a soft chuckle—one that dripped with ridicule.

"What was it?" He tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Did you change the sequence of the ingredients? Maybe remove something you thought was unnecessary? Or did you think adding a few of your own 'superior' enhancements would make it better?"

Elder Fan Ming's fingers twitched. His expression darkened.

"Let me tell you exactly what you did wrong." Zou Fang's eyes flashed as he pointed directly at him.

"You replaced the core catalyst with a substitute that you assumed had the same properties—but it didn't."

"You altered the stabilizing agent without understanding why I used it in the first place."

"You ignored the energy refinement sequence because you thought it was redundant—but that sequence is the reason the pill integrates with a beast's meridians instead of fighting against them!"

His words were like arrows, each one piercing through Elder Fan Ming's dwindling composure.

"And most of all…" Zou Fang's voice dropped, his gaze turning razor-sharp, "you underestimated the complexity of the cultivation recipe I completed."

Elder Fan Ming's face went pale.

The disciples watching the confrontation were silent.

Some looked at Zou Fang in shock.

Some stole uneasy glances at Elder Fan Ming.

But before anyone could react—

Angola screamed.

It was unlike the cries before.

This was horrific.

The beast convulsed violently, its entire body spasming as its energy spiraled out of control.

Its eyes bulged.

Its muscles pulsed unnaturally.

Its bones cracked from the sheer force of the backlash.

The entire room shook from the beast's uncontrolled aura.

The sound itself was unbearable—so loud, so raw, that it made the walls tremble.

Some disciples covered their ears, their faces contorted in horror.

Some instinctively stepped back, feeling their own bodies tremble at the overwhelming pressure.

A few even collapsed to their knees, unable to handle the sheer intensity of what was happening.

Elder Fu, despite his years of experience, grimaced.

"Angola is on the verge of death," Elder Fu muttered, his voice unusually heavy.

The words sent another wave of fear through the room.

The disciples' expressions turned from shock to outright panic.

"It's that serious?!" one of them gasped.

"No way… But it was just a feed pill, right?!"

"How could a single mistake lead to this?!"

Zou Fang, however, had no time for their reactions.

His eyes locked onto Angola.

"Hurry up."

His voice cut through the panic like a blade.

And then—

He moved.

His hands blurred as he began pulling out materials at an inhuman speed.

"Elder Fu!" Zou Fang barked. "Get ready!"

Elder Fu's brows furrowed.

"For what?"

Zou Fang's gaze didn't waver.

"We're saving this beast. Right now."

Elder Fu hesitated for only a second before nodding.

"Tell me what to do."

Zou Fang didn't hesitate.

He launched into instructions—fast, precise, unrelenting.

"First, suppress Angola's meridians with a double-layered Qi containment technique. If you don't, the spiritual backlash will rupture his core in less than sixty breaths!"

"What?! That's too crude—"

"Do it! If you hesitate, he's dead!"

Elder Fu gritted his teeth and immediately acted. His hands moved in a blur as he formed complex seals, surrounding Angola with layers of suppressive energy.

Zou Fang continued.

"Second, force Angola's meridians into a half-hibernation state! Use the Frost Meridian Seal—no, wait! Adjust it to 40% intensity! Any higher and his heart will stop!"

The disciples watching were stunned.

Some gawked.

Some whispered in disbelief.

"He's giving orders to an Elder?!"

"And the Elder is actually listening?!"

Elder Fu's expression was tense, but he followed Zou Fang's instructions without question. His hands moved swiftly, expertly modifying the Frost Meridian Seal on the fly.

But Zou Fang wasn't finished.

"Third, Elder Fu—grab the last batch of Deep Earth Vitality Powder from your storage ring. Mix it with a condensed Qi solution. No more than a single drop! Any more, and Angola's system won't handle the surge!"

Elder Fu's hands froze.

His eyes widened.

"How did you—"

"NO TIME! JUST DO IT!"

Elder Fu moved.

His hands expertly retrieved the rare powder, mixing it at exactly the ratio Zou Fang demanded.

The disciples watching nearly collapsed from shock.

"How in the world does Zou Fang know all this?!"

"He's treating a dying beast faster than the Elders?!"

Even Elder Fan Ming, still frozen in place, could do nothing but watch in stunned silence.

Zou Fang's focus didn't waver.

"Final step—force-feed him the solution! Elder Fu, now!"

Elder Fu didn't hesitate. He pressed the concoction against Angola's lips, channeling his energy to force the liquid down the beast's throat.

Angola convulsed—

Its aura fluctuated dangerously—

Then—

Its body jerked one final time.

The tension in the room peaked.

Every single person held their breath.

And then—

Silence.

For a moment, no one moved.

No one spoke.

Then Zou Fang exhaled.

He took a step back.

His hands finally stilled.

Then, at last—

He spoke.

"Alright. It's done."