Chapter 131
Chapter 131
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Fatigue (3)
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The late dawn, completely shrouded in darkness, was the hour when the entire world slumbered.
Even Randa, the kingdom's largest city, was no exception to this rule.
When darkness fell over Randa, most people drifted off to sleep.
The only difference was the existence of certain districts that defied the norm.
For instance, District J, which provided rest and entertainment to gentlemen who toiled late into the night.
Or the factory districts that operated day and night to meet production schedules.
One couldn't overlook Districts D, E, and F, packed with headquarters of companies where overtime was routine, along with research facilities.
Especially in District F, where research facilities were concentrated, pulling all-nighters to produce daily results was the baseline.
Thus, researchers there relied on coffee, black tea, chocolate, and even pills to stay awake, and the Martel Life Research Institute was no exception to this fate.
That was why even researchers of considerable rank lingered in the break room at this late hour, chatting idly.
"Ugh, ugh... I'm dying here."
A blond researcher with a sturdy build slumped into a break room chair, whining dramatically.
For reference, two other researchers who appeared to be his colleagues were also there. These three went beyond mere coworkers; they were true comrades in the same project, holding the same line.
Ones who could make a name for themselves in the School of Life.
The blond researcher gulped down his coffee and face-planted onto the table.
"Man, I'm dying."
"The healthiest one among us is complaining... I feel like I'm gonna drop dead too."
The red-haired researcher replied.
Unlike the blond, who was a lead researcher, he wasn't, but they were from the same cohort, and their abilities were on par.
That was why the blond didn't mind the casual rudeness.
In fact, he even chuckled tiredly amid the exhaustion.
"Ah... Chugging coffee like water while working late into the night. I thought graduating top of the Magic Tower meant a golden future ahead."
"The world's not that easy."
"Argh, damn it. Those barbaris probably think we live cushy lives without lifting a finger."
"Let 'em. It's not like this is new from those guys. Who cares what they say."
"It's annoying, though."
"More importantly, how'd that go?"
The bald man, who had been silently reviewing documents, spoke up.
Compared to his two friends from the same cohort, the blond and redhead, he gave off a more serious vibe.
"What do you mean?"
"Securing the test sample. Any progress?"
At those words, life returned to the blond researcher's eyes as he pulled a small hand-mirror-like item from his pocket.
Not a real mirror, but a magic item called a 'Talk Mirror,' which allowed real-time text communication with another party.
Limited to one-on-one and with range restrictions, it was still quite convenient for exchanging limited info within the city.
"Hang on... No real updates yet. He's holed up at home and staying put."
"Knew it... Wasn't the plan too optimistic from the start? Why would a black mage come to the rescue? For some kid doing menial chores with zero upside. This is gonna fail, isn't it?"
"Why're you snapping at me? You guys agreed it was a good idea. Got a better one?"
The redhead and bald researchers shut their mouths at the blond's retort.
"Ah... We should've just kidnapped him back then like I said."
"What's the point of rehashing that now?"
As the redhead and blond bickered, the quiet bald researcher flicked his finger toward the crystal orb on the ceiling.
He had connected to Martel's 'Root Net Territorial,' causing numerous holographic images to appear in the air in response to his mana.
The footage showed fixers being hunted by chimeras, their faces twisted in bewilderment and terror.
It was a natural reaction, given the newly developed bio-weapon chimeras were far more cunning than previous models.
The plan was to offer up District V residents and greedy fixers chasing bounties as sacrifices to gather urban combat data before the police investigation kicked in, but unexpectedly, the experiment ended quickly and anticlimactically.
Pabababa—! Tick!
The footage paused on a single frame.
A man in his twenties, presumably. His name was Dave, a fixer from District T.
"What kind of trick did he pull?"
The bald man asked sincerely.
This batch of chimeras had been engineered not to panic even under heavy bombardment, designed for unflinching slaughter without fear.
Yet it panicked at the sight of some young fixer.
And it had slipped into uncontrollable mode, beyond even remote override.
This was no small matter. Martel's carefully designed genetic tweaks had been undone by a single fixer.
The blond researcher examined the footage closely before speaking.
"Who knows... His expression suggests even he doesn't know."
That much was true. Dave in the footage looked just as clueless about the chimera's behavior.
Which only made it more intriguing.
"Maybe some glitch? Chimeras occasionally suffer mental breakdowns or physical collapse."
"The issue is why it happened right then, after all that testing. Doesn't look like coincidence."
The three Magic Tower alumni fell silent at the inexplicable phenomenon.
No wonder they were periodically observing this fixer named Dave.
They each pulled out notebooks and reviewed data.
Magic Tower-affiliated labs always sourced info on fixers through back channels to obtain promising research samples for observation.
And Dave was a standout high-grade subject.
Officially debuting just six months ago, he'd resolved major incidents, skyrocketing his skills, and was even revealed as a rare case.
Rare cases were tricky to study due to their scarcity.
The moment Martel learned Dave was one, they sprang into action.
They'd had their eye on him for a while, and leaving him be risked losing him to rivals.
But securing him wasn't easy.
In the blink of an eye, he'd gained fame as a fixer, drawing too many eyes for a simple snatch-and-grab.
A slim chance of failure could mean losses without gains—a dangerous gamble.
Especially now, with pressure from the School of Life higher-ups to push the Grand Master's grandson, any slip-up could turn a passable project into total failure.
That's why the blond researcher had devised the plan.
To lure Dave by kidnapping someone close to him and bringing them to the lab.
But as a method to bait a black mage, it was laughably simplistic and low-odds.
"Ah, whatever. We had to try something. And originally, we needed a solid test subject for our main experiment anyway, right? What was his name again?"
"Rossburn."
"Right, Rossburn. Even as an actual subject rather than bait, he's a decent sample. Orphan who worked under a tavern madam but taught himself to read. A barbaris at that—an orphan barbaris, no less. Impressive. Inferior stock, but with effort factors. Samples like that aren't easy to come by."
The bald and redhead nodded in agreement.
Their 'Reincarnation Project' demanded countless subjects, but suitable ones were hard to procure.
From brain info transfer to body remodeling.
Too much work. That's why they couldn't clock out.
"Ugh... Let's not fixate on rare cases. Our job is the Reincarnation Project. Solving just one of the stuck issues stabilizes the Sword faction's position, and we'll benefit too."
"True, but having a rare case helps."
"Yeah, sure—"
-Beep!!
-Beep!!
-Beep!!
-Beep!!
-Beep!!
A low, quiet, but unmistakable alert tone.
No ordinary signal.
The three chatting researchers immediately rummaged through their pockets.
In their inner pockets were alarm devices issued only to Reincarnation Project participants and a select few veteran guards.
Activation meant an intruder in the secret underground lab known only to a handful of Martel staff.
The three exchanged glances.
***
"Tch."
Oliver let out a short, exasperated sound.
He'd thought scouring the World Tree had revealed all of Martel's lab security systems, but apparently not.
Most were mana-based detection, which he'd bypassed with extracted mana to sow confusion, but he'd tripped a basic pressure-plate alarm.
Not listed in Martel's defenses, so likely external security.
'Whatever. Gotta hurry.'
Oliver calmed himself and thought.
It was a Magic Tower lab, but no need to panic.
Ironically, their hyper-focus on vital, secretive research meant they couldn't fully staff guards here.
With everyone clocked out, he could grab Rossburn and slip away before they arrived—might resolve easily.
'Probably.'
Oliver darkened his Black Suit to cloak himself fully in black mist and bolted.
Focusing his eyes, he spotted two emotions rushing down a distant corridor.
Martel staff, likely.
"Over here!"
A man in a white coat, looking like Martel staff, shouted and unleashed mana bolts from his fingertips.
High density, fast casting.
'Around the level of those mages who raided Murphy's Magic Bullet factory?'
With that thought, Oliver amped black magic output to his legs and dodged everything.
Mimicking Jo, he nailed it just enough to narrowly evade the mana shots.
After dodging, Oliver fired a shockwave.
To avoid murder charges, he throttled output to non-lethal levels.
The Martel staff flew back, collapsing in heaps.
Tang—!
In sync, Oliver kicked off the floor, closed in instantly, and lightly smacked them with his quarterstaff.
Crack—!! Their eyes rolled back as they passed out, and Oliver resumed running.
'Hm...'
Oliver focused his eyes to scan the entire lab and groaned.
Everyone in the secret lab was scrambling—likely alerted by that alarm.
Ah... He'd hoped for a peaceful resolution.
Oliver sharpened his vision further to locate Rossburn's emotion.
Remembering it, plus World Tree intel on subject storage, made it straightforward.
"...There."
Oliver veered into an all-white corridor.
'Find Rossburn, Black Suit up, and bolt. Good, good.'
What to do with rescued Rossburn, how to handle fallout—none of it was fine, but Oliver shoved it aside, muttering it'd be okay.
Otherwise, his nagging rationality would give him a headache. He needed this denial to cope.
He questioned his own impulses.
'...Annoying.'
Then it happened. Oliver halted abruptly, pivoting like Jo on one foot to dodge sideways.
A blue ice bolt streaked past, embedding right beside him.
Pachink—! Craaaack...!
White shards shattered, blanketing the area in ice.
Nearly caught his feet too.
Oliver boosted leg output, lunged forward, and swung his quarterstaff into empty air.
Crack—!
Hand felt impact through the staff.
Light refracted, revealing a cloaked, gun-toting man.
Sound echoed in the empty hall.
"Dispel invisibility! Intruder's onto us. Switch from stealth takedown to firepower suppression."
Light bent in multiple spots, materializing over a dozen people.
Cloaks, mana-infused guns, protective gear—like the ones he'd just downed.
Martel secret lab guards, evidently.
Before Oliver could move, they formed ranks, deploying shields via auxiliaries and aiming guns beyond.
Ice magic again.
'Not aiming to kill. Planning capture.'
Assessing, Oliver kicked the floor before ice shots fired, closing distance in a flash.
"...Tch!"
Then, channeling leg-gathered black magic to shoulder, arm, and quarterstaff, he swung with full force.
He hated escalating, preferred no deaths, but dragging it out was worse—so he trusted the guards' toughness.
Boom—————!!!
A massive roar as auxiliary shields shattered, crumbling the dozen-man formation in one hit.
Frontline defenders slammed into walls or flew back, gaping holes in their lines.
Oliver re-cloaked in Black Suit, slipped through gaps, and precisely struck vitals, knocking them all out.
Fortunately, no fatalities.
"Ugh..."
After finishing off a half-conscious guard, Oliver pressed on.
The corridor shifted to iron walls, floor, ceiling. Widening into hall-like proportions.
Oliver stopped before a massive iron door.
'Like a bank vault.'
Reminded him of the absurd vault from his one anonymous withdrawal.
He tapped it like knocking. High density—immovable under normal means.
Normally, that is.
"That aside..."
Oliver looked up.
A circular crystal in the ceiling rapidly gathered mana.
Intense blue-white light plummeted, flash-freezing everything atop him.
Paaaaang————!
The grating screech ceased, leaving a white-ice block spewing mist where the light struck.
Oliver, silent inside.
Footsteps crunched closer: blond, redhead, bald researchers appeared.
"Heh... We actually caught him?"
"Yeah. Who'da thought this crappy plan would work... Lucky."
"Not luck. We analyzed his path, predicted this spot, and countered accordingly."
"How'd you predict the path?"
"With the nerve-crystals installed throughout the lab... Huh?"
They realized too late. Oliver shattered the ice, charged, and swung his quarterstaff.
Crack—!
Crack—!!
Clang—!!!
Different sensations per strike.
Passing the researchers, Oliver glanced back.
Blond researcher, arm already regenerating from the break.
Redhead, body ice-armored against the blow.
Bald, turned fully to steel, staring at Oliver.
The blond shook his healed arm and spoke.
"That hurt, you barbaris bastard."