I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 80 Edgar the Monkey

"I feel that Ms. Shepard is very kind," Richard chuckled.

"You actually said that the Empress was kind?" Edgar asked incredulously.

"I feel so sorry for you, thinking about your miserable life that started in summer school. Professor Shepard is already 62 years old, and you're definitely going to be her last student, only worse off than Blake Hawthorne! Accept your fate! Poor little junior!"

The term "closed-door disciple" does not exist in American academia, but there are similar traditions and concepts.

Before retiring, a senior professor will select one of his most valued students and hand over all his academic resources to that student, including his network, research projects, unpublished experimental data, and even laboratory equipment.

These students are called the last student or academic heir, and their status is basically similar to that of the last disciple of the University of Tokyo.

Those selected, whether lucky or unlucky, essentially secure a teaching position at a top university in advance, but at the cost of enduring the professor's intense training during their final years.

Working 14 hours a day is just the beginning, assuming you don't die suddenly.

Richard thought to himself with a sense of ease, "I'm not going to become your closed-door disciple."

Judging from Edgar's age and miserable condition, this unfortunate fellow might actually be Christina's chosen academic successor.

Richard calmly replied:

"I will tell my advisor what you said..."

Edgar, who was grinning foolishly, couldn't help but ask:

"Tell the tutor what?"

"Tell your mentor that Edgar said you are 62 years old, which is very old."

Edgar's expression changed drastically, and he quickly said:

"Damn it! Please don't! I'll treat you to a big meal! I'm already working 14 hours a day, I don't want to go to 16!"

"Don't you want a tenured position at Harvard? Don't you want to win the Nobel Prize?"

"I don't want to! I just want to live!" Edgar said with unwavering determination.

No matter how arrogant a young genius is, once they enter Christina's laboratory, they will be thoroughly shocked.

In that place where geniuses are everywhere and Okinawans are as insignificant as dogs, almost everyone feels that their intelligence is inferior to that of a monkey in a cage, and then experiences the huge drop from being a celebrated genius to being just another face in the roadside.

Some people didn't make it through and fell into extreme inferiority, becoming like cockroaches hiding in the shadows, afraid to show their faces.

Some people made it through, and Edgar is in this state now: I'm a monkey.

After seeing those geniuses flying in the sky, Edgar the monkey had long given up on the idea of winning the Nobel Prize. He would be quite satisfied with a tenured position at the worst university, Dartmouth.

"No, think about it carefully. Actually, what you want to take is..." Richard made the decision for Edgar, pointing ahead:

"Alright, we've arrived at the president's office. We'll talk about the Nobel Prize and the big meal later."

Edgar walked into the principal's office with a mix of nervousness and excitement. After a brief introduction, he handed over the letter of acceptance to Princeton University's summer program.

The document was originally supposed to be mailed, but Christina thought it was too slow, so Edgar the ox and horse became the human mail truck.

After reading it, Principal Smith was completely taken aback. He remained silent for a long time before finally saying with emotion:

"Richard, I've always thought you were a genius, but I never expected you to grow up so fast."

The Princeton summer school notification letter was personally signed by Princeton President Colin Ashton (Smith: Summer school? It's late autumn at MF!).

A certificate personally written by Nobel laureate Christina Shepard (Smith: Nobel Prize! Shepard! The Only One!).

This portion is far too heavy.

Smith then realized that Richard's genius far exceeded his expectations.

It's just that the teaching quality at Francis Lewis High School is so poor that they simply couldn't detect it.

He couldn't understand how Richard had done it, but the facts were right in front of him.

Richard was just a university student attending a public high school. Christina Shepard wouldn't give such a person special treatment, so there's only one reason: Richard was a top genius.

"Um... I need you to take two photos to help the school with its publicity."

"No problem," Richard said with a smile.

"My student file will remain at our school for the next two years, and I will be here for the SAT exam. I do not plan to leave Francis Lewis High School; I will enter Princeton as an in-house student upon graduation."

Smith was satisfied.

For some top-tier private high schools, getting into Princeton is nothing special.

But Francis Lewis High School is just an ordinary public school, and Richard's achievements are already worthy of publicity.

What's more, it was Christina who personally selected them!

If Richard really makes some remarkable scientific research achievements or wins some awards in the future, then Smith will have plenty to brag about.

With the proof brought by Edgar and the personal assistance of Principal Smith, Richard's paperwork went smoothly.

Students can retain their student status, apply for off-campus academic leave, and retain their grade level. This will not be considered an absence, as long as they attend the final exam.

In less than an hour, Richard and Edgar went to Princeton together, completing the formalities and taking photos.

"Summer school is still a long way off," Edgar said as he drove.

"Your advisor is just using the summer program as an excuse to get you into the lab. As a summer program student, you're not supposed to live in the residential college, but your advisor has arranged it, so you can choose whichever one you like. It's not mandatory, it's up to you, and you can also live off-campus."

Princeton University mandates that undergraduates live in residential colleges for the first two years of their undergraduate studies. These colleges provide a combination of dormitories, dining halls, study rooms, libraries, and theaters.

There are seven schools in total, each with a different style and accommodation conditions.

Of course, the amount of US dollars required will also vary.

A decent single room and board, with all meals included, costs about $2 a year.

Middle-class students struggling to afford tuition loans are unwilling to give up their money.

Richard had already chosen his target online.

"I live at Mathey College."

Mathey College is surrounded by four Gothic buildings, with its clock tower spire serving as a landmark, and its interior is decorated like a medieval castle.

This college boasts the highest proportion of single rooms, the most frequent academic tea breaks, and ranks first in graduate satisfaction.

Princeton University is an hour and a half drive from the YC apartment building.

If you need to stay in the cell laboratory for a long time, traveling back and forth every day would be a waste of time.

Of course, Richard doesn't plan to stay in the cell lab permanently. For now, he needs to focus on OCME and using corpses to gain knowledge and advance his mission is the most important thing right now.

Edgar couldn't help but glance at Richard:

"Are you sure? $2.5 a year! Don't waste money, student loans are expensive."

"Student loan? Why would I need a student loan? My parents will pay my tuition in full."

"...Does Dad need another son?"

An hour and a half later, Richard finally arrived at the cell laboratory.

Although it's called a laboratory, it's actually a 50-acre high-tech park located on the outskirts of Princeton.

The park is surrounded by high-voltage walls and infrared surveillance, and the entrance is comparable to airport security.

Edgar led Richard inside with his credentials.

The park features lawns, woods, and isolation zones, with more than a dozen buildings of varying sizes scattered among the trees. The main building complex consists of five silver-gray glass laboratory buildings, connected by fully enclosed, temperature-controlled corridors.

In one corner of the silver-gray facade is a cell-shaped logo made of stainless steel, along with a line of large red letters: Shepard Building.

The name clearly indicates whose territory this is.

Edgar swiped his card again and led Richard into the main building.

He appeared relaxed, but in reality, countless security personnel were secretly watching Richard through cameras.

The atmosphere was extremely quiet, with very few researchers coming and going, all wearing work clothes and walking in a hurry.

Everyone was busy with their own experiments and research and had no time for idle chatter.

This is a mecca for the global biomedical field, an incubator for top-tier journal articles, and a standard-setter for academic research.

Richard followed Edgar and took the elevator to the top floor. Edgar was also a researcher in a hurry. At the end of the corridor, there was a minimalist glass-partitioned office, which was the exclusive space of that academic tyrant.

The room was simply furnished, containing an encrypted workstation, several unfinished drafts, and the core research manuscripts of various researchers.

The entire room contained only one decorative photo frame, in which was a photograph of Christina receiving the Nobel Prize when she was young.

Edgar escorted Richard into his office, his eyes pleading as he left: Please don't tell the tutor.

Richard gave an OK sign.

Christina was engrossed in a report when she saw Richard. She quickly stood up and said hastily:

"Come quick! Let me show you some data!"

Richard entered.

Christina closed the door.

......

Edgar breathed a sigh of relief, but also a gloating smile appeared on his face.

He had never seen a mentor and student have a closed-door meeting. Richard was doomed!

Haha!

I'm free!

I'm finally not the youngest one anymore!

Edgar returned to his seat in a good mood.

"Edgar, who is that young man?" Senior scientist Alaric strolled over with a cup of coffee.

Edgar said with a grin:

"Richard, the gifted high school student Professor Shepard found. Shall we bet on how many hours he works in the lab each week?"

"Oh ho! A high school student!" Alaric laughed, taking out $10 and placing it on the table.

"I bet he needs to work 70 hours a week in the lab."

Only 70 hours? Edgar grinned mischievously.

You have no idea that Richard was only in 11th grade when Professor Shepard personally went to the principal's office and pressured the principal to expedite the paperwork!

What does this mean? It means he's doomed!

Edgar himself left $20:

"I bet 15 hours! Every single day!"

The crowd burst into laughter:

"105 hours a week? That's outrageous!"

"65 hours per week," a lab technician named Klin said cautiously.

"I'll bet 5 dollars."

"Haha, you're doomed." Another senior scientist, Julian, also came over:

"I'm keeping him for 20 or 50 hours. He's only in 11th grade. Are you exploiting child labor?"

"Oppressing child labor? Isn't that normal?" Edgar squinted.

"Think about Blake Hawthorne! I bet he's not going home before 23 PM tonight!"

Everyone burst into laughter.