Chapter 101: The Pasture

“Exchange opportunity?”

Yan Luo glanced over and found that the exchange section here was much like the one at the crystal station. There were technological equipments like nitrogen accelerators, biochemical items such as chitin armor, and even things like electromagnetic shields, life-restoring potions, and the option to exchange for a cloned Martian hound as a pet.

Whether weapons, armor, consumables, potions, or pets, as long as one had biological energy, it was quite easy to purchase these in the commercial district of the Dream Space.

However, biochemical modifications were a rarity.

Today, Cream Chocolate had been modified with ten legs, an exoskeleton armor, a head horn, and equipped with six nitrogen accelerators. This horse had rendered invaluable service—without its super speed, it would have been nearly impossible to support allies everywhere, storm enemy towers, and complete the mission within an hour.

Moreover, it had slain a Mercury Spider.

That was a super boss! Even if the Guan Yu persona had been struck once, it would have been smashed into a meat patty by the giant pincers.

As a reward, Yan Luo planned to apply biochemical modifications to Cream Chocolate.

“I’m going to modify you.”

Patting the horse’s head, Yan Luo looked at the steed, now restored to its original form, whose eyes still reflected a trace of bewilderment from the recent ordeal. “So, how do you feel? Happy? Surprised? Unexpected?”

The horse said nothing.

Here, biochemical modifications were not about selecting a single option directly.

Instead, one chose a template.

Templates of alien creatures.

The Martians in the Inner World all resembled Earth animals or insects. These alien creature templates were modifications based on the original form, incorporating new genes from animals or insects. Simply put, it was akin to a form of lineage, but less comprehensive and with less potential than full lineage modification.

Available templates included: Martian Mantis, Martian Octopus, Martian Worm, Martian Mole, and Martian Moth—each corresponding to one of the five alien creatures.

These biochemical templates could not be applied to humans.

Otherwise, to be honest, the Martian Octopus template would be quite fitting for a human, growing several tentacles akin to Hezi’s and capable of ejecting ink or spore bullets.

“There’s no Mercury Spider…”

Had there been such a template, the strongest neutral creature boss—the Spider Horse—could develop spider limbs and the innate ability to spin webs.

Each of the five biochemical templates had distinct traits: the Mantis grew scythe-like bio-arms and a chitin shell; the Octopus had tentacles and spore jets; the Worm could spit acid and had moisture-rich, magic-resistant skin; the Mole had a rocky shell and burrowing ability; and the Martian Moth possessed toxins and flight.

Among these, flight was undoubtedly most precious, yet Yan Luo reasoned that sprouting two thin moth wings wouldn’t possibly allow a nearly one-ton horse to take to the skies.

“The Octopus’s tentacles and spore jets are more suited for control; the Worm’s acid spit is a ranged attack; and the Mantis’s scythe arms and chitin shell suit close combat. This effectively transforms Cream Chocolate from a simple mount into a combat-capable companion.”

After biochemical modification, the creature would gain low-level intelligence.

Animals, including horses, originally functioned on instinct—running, eating, sleeping. Low-level intelligence meant that after training, they could understand simple commands.

“I’ll choose the Martian Mole.”

For Yan Luo, survival was paramount for a mount. Even a common warhorse demanded tens of thousands of biological energy, yet on the battlefield, even a stray arrow or a lasso could kill it. No matter how powerful other templates were, if the creature died, everything was lost.

The Martian Mole was undoubtedly a tank template.

Moreover, it had a displacement skill!

Its rocky shell provided strong defense against physical attacks, akin to the famed “Stone Skin” spell in the magical realms, while its burrowing resembled the “Earth Escape” technique of cultivation systems.

A mount that could endure damage and, failing that, flee, was undoubtedly invaluable.

Under Yan Luo’s choice, a beam of light shone on Cream Chocolate.

Minutes later, the modification was complete.

“The change in appearance isn’t drastic,” Yan Luo nodded. Riding it wouldn’t draw too much attention.

Had the Mantis template been chosen, the horse would likely have grown a pair of scythe-shaped arms and a chitin shell. The Octopus template would have added a dozen or so tentacles beneath the abdomen. The Moth would sprout wings on its back, and the Worm’s skin would become moist and sticky.

Now, Cream Chocolate’s coat had merely shifted from its original brown with white patches to an earthy brown. The rocky skin was hidden beneath the hair, imperceptible to the naked eye unless one touched it carefully.

Yan Luo also noticed the horse’s gaze had become significantly more lively, and its body noticeably stronger—low-level intelligence combined with Martian Mole genes had enhanced both intellect and physicality.

As for burrowing…

Low-level intelligence and physique were “genes,” the rocky skin was a passive innate talent, and burrowing was a skill. Naturally, it couldn’t tunnel through cement. Yan Luo led the horse to a patch of grass outside the convenience store to test this ability.

The horse crouched low, clawing rapidly with its front hooves in a dog-paddling motion. Within seconds, a large pit appeared. The horse then leapt in with a “plop,” disappearing into the burrow.

Residents in the nearby apartment building, witnessing this scene, could only think, “What in the world is going on? I’ve heard of dog pawing the ground, but a horse digging holes? This horse has turned into some alien war steed, and now it’s learning to dig tunnels?”

“Very good.”

Yan Luo nodded in approval at the burrowing speed. In a grand war setting, Cream Chocolate could dig trenches to evade bullets and arrows.

“But now that it’s been modified with the Martian Mole template, turning its coat entirely earthy brown, calling it Cream Chocolate doesn’t seem fitting anymore.” The name had come from its original brown coat resembling chocolate, dotted with white like cream.

“Time to abandon the name Cream Chocolate. What should I call it…”

Yan Luo pondered. “Since this horse has learned skills, how about ‘Pokémon’? With low-level intelligence, innate talents, and skills, it could qualify for the Pokédex in that world…”

But thinking further, that felt inappropriate. After all, the horse’s appearance wasn’t much different from an ordinary horse. Naming it Pokémon might alert enemies, making them wary of it being some kind of spirit creature from the Pocket Monsters world, like the ‘Heavy Mud Pull Horse.’

“Since it’s a Martian Mole template—horse plus mole—how about ‘Horse Mole’? Sounds odd, like calling it ‘Uncle Horse.’ Better to take the first character of mole and call it ‘Horse Ground.’”

The original Cream Chocolate, after a brief shining moment in its equine life, had undergone biochemical template modification, gaining rocky skin and burrowing skills, and was bestowed a new name: Horse Ground. It could be said it had won itself a new life.