Chapter 58
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Restraint Devices Are Equal for Everyone (1)
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After running auto-hunt in a few rift zones all day long, I'd made progress across the board in every area.
First off, I'd successfully absorbed Instructor Cheon Da-eun's freezing skills and mana skills without issue. Separately from that, I'd managed to strengthen all my sex-related skills as well.
So, just how much stronger had I gotten?
'Honestly, I have no idea.'
Since skills had varying rarities, it was tough to gauge a hunter's level based solely on skill levels.
Well, if we took standard skills as the benchmark, a level 14 freezing magic skill was right in line with what a D-rank hunter like me should have.
But calling myself D-rank now felt off the mark.
Not only did I have nearly twice as many skills as the average hunter, but I also possessed a bunch of high-grade ones.
'Combat-wise, I'm D-rank, but if we go by sex skills, that's C-rank territory. Combined? Probably C+ at least.'
And if this new doll-making clone operated smoothly, I could accelerate my growth by two or three times.
The unique part was how the skills from the elixirs had merged into my Incubus Virility. But that was inevitable once I acquired Incubus Magic—incubi were demonic beasts infamous for their stamina, after all, right up there with the other two.
Plus, I wasn't the only one who'd profited from this schedule.
Even high-level Da-eun unnie had racked up enough experience to level up significantly.
'And that's not even counting all the naughty skills piling up out of my sight...'
All those had transferred straight to Cheon Da-eun herself, too.
Either way, I was reaping the full benefits of establishing this routine lately.
"So, what's the deal this time? I gave you a direct line to me, but if you're just ringing the doorbell for no reason, that's a problem."
"As if. I came to let you know the project is complete."
"Huh? Already?"
Marsha Leosika took a swig of cola, her eyes widening in surprise. The burger in her hand nearly tumbled to the floor.
"Wasn't it just one or two weeks ago that you, a mere kid, told me you were going to make that ungrateful brat's clone? And you're saying it's done in that short time? You're not messing with me, right?"
"My Clone Creation skill works a bit differently from standard crafting skills. It's more like assembling a model figure."
"Heh... handy skill you've got there."
She grumbled, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Fine, show me then. Let's see how much that badass skill of yours made your ungrateful little disciple look like her."
"Yes, ma'am."
I nodded and reached into the air, summoning Aira Petrovna's clone.
With a faint pzzt of sparks, the very doll I'd finished in the workshop moments ago materialized before Marsha Leosika's eyes.
"Hmm..."
Slim mechanical arms extended from her Matryoshka, meticulously examining the expressionless Aira clone from head to toe.
Like a precision inspection, the arms checked joint mobility, skin texture, and not even a single strand of hair escaped scrutiny.
"Well... you nailed the look, at least. If it was just appearance, I'd buy that it's that insolent girl."
After scrutinizing the clone for a good while, Marsha Leosika muttered that. Her expression was oddly complex—hard to pin as simple satisfaction or dissatisfaction; it was a subtle mix of emotions.
'Is she sad? Makes sense—her disciple turned criminal...'
But contrary to my guess, Marsha Leosika suddenly shot up from her seat and shed layers of her Matryoshka.
"Die!"
Without warning, she swiftly swept her tiny foot into the Aira clone's leg, toppling it.
Thud!
The clone hit the floor with a dull thump and rolled limply. Marsha looked down at it smugly, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.
"Ah, fuck, that feels good. Just seeing that bitch's face made my blood pressure skyrocket, but knocking her down like this cleared all the pent-up stress."
"......"
She beamed with relief. I could only stare blankly at the scene.
She'd just been purely pissed. Really pissed.
"Ahem!"
I coughed awkwardly, trying to ignore the situation and get to the point.
"Elder, you remember the conditions we agreed on before, right?"
"Conditions?"
"Don't play dumb..."
My first condition had been for her to craft a special tool or restraint to effectively limit or control Aira Petrovna's abilities—just in case the criminal clone went berserk or out of control.
The second was that, in exchange for helping with the Aira clone, Marsha Leosika could ask me for a few favors going forward.
The partnership lasted two years, with one request every three months.
A sort of long-term alliance contract.
The third was to keep my Clone Creation skill top secret and never leak it—which, at this point, was basically a dead clause since I'd already exposed part of it by accepting Seraphina's scout offer.
Couldn't be helped.
So today, I needed firm confirmation on the first and second conditions from Marsha Leosika.
"The restraint to control Aira's abilities—is it ready? And for your first request, don't you think it's about time you told me what you need help with?"
I asked politely but firmly.
Marsha Leosika pondered, chin in hand, then snapped her fingers.
"Oh, right, right. How could I forget with you being so nitpicky?"
She grinned slyly and rummaged inside her Matryoshka. Moments later, she magicked a small object onto her palm and showed it to me.
"Here—this fulfills your first condition. The 'restraint device' to seal that brat Aira's powers."
"...Pardon?"
It was unmistakably a cheap plastic toy gun, the kind sold in a kids' toy aisle—painted in garish green and blue.
"Did you make this, Instructor?"
"As if I'd make something this shoddy. It was made back when that girl escaped. The creator croaked before it could even be tested, so no more like this will ever exist. Lost technology, you see."
"...You can just give me something that valuable?"
Marsha snorted at my question.
"Pfft, valuable my ass. It breaks after a few shots. Performance ain't bad, though. Simple terms: hit with this, and the target turns half-braindead. Think of it as hypnotic suggestion. They'll obey any order meekly, and obviously can't use skills. Perfect restraint device, right?"
She flashed a cheeky grin.
"Doubt it? Test it on me. Give me any order."
I hesitated.
It looked like a toy, but her confidence suggested it worked.
I cautiously took the toy gun, aimed at her, and pulled the trigger lightly.
A pew sound rang out as light gathered at the barrel.
Some of my mana and essence flowed in, then a beam fired, striking Marsha Leosika's forehead.
'Ugh. It uses my essence too?'
A hefty chunk of mana and essence drained.
Oof—maybe only twice a day max.
Made sense; it wasn't battery-powered...
Then her eyes glazed over blankly, staring vacantly into space.
"...Elder Marsha?"
What the—?
No reaction even waving my hand in front of her face.
Pranking me?
Or actually hypnotized?
I scanned her with Mana Detection.
Surprisingly, the mana beam from the gun had scattered into glittering particles, but the essence-laced beams had pierced her head cleanly.
'It worked?'
Because my essence counted as mana?
Caught her off guard?
My heart pounded.
Half-doubting, I gave a mild hypnotic order—just in case she was faking.
"Uh... then, think of me not as a stranger, but as the super close, comfy next-door little bro you've known since he was tiny...?"
As soon as I finished, a faint light flickered in her vacant eyes. Then, as if nothing happened, she perked up with a bright smile.
Incredibly naturally, she slung an arm around my shoulder and winked playfully.
"See? Little bro? Totally fine."
"Y-yeah..."
Her tone and manner were unchanged—still sly and mischievous.
But...
'No way she's not hypnotized.'
The suggestion was just 'treat me like a close little bro,' so she acted normal.
Calling me 'little bro' confirmed it.
'Does this work on anyone else...?'
Marsha added,
"It's tuned specially for Aira Petrovna, so unless someone's super susceptible to hypnosis, it won't do much. Not getting weird ideas, are you?"
"N-no way. You're too much, sis."
"Heh, you never know. By the way, your shot used one up—five left now. Breaks after five for sure."
"Pardon?"
Five shots?
Breaks for sure?
I yelped in shock.
"You told me to shoot it knowing that?!"
"So what?"
"So what?! "
"Tch, touchy much? Tell me when it's out. I'll whip up a knockoff if you nag."
She wrapped her slim arm around my neck, laughing.
"You know me, little bro? If you need help, I'll hook you up big time!"
Ugh.
She loves messing with people...
'Five shots is too few to waste.'
Especially since even she couldn't repair it.
Ruined my mood.
Marsha giggled at my reaction, then sobered up.
"As for the second condition? Too complicated to explain—follow me."
She rolled her Matryoshka toward a massive steel door at the back of the lab. Looked like it led to the Maker Sect's secret warehouse.
Creeeak—thunk.
The heavy door swung open, and I followed her into the dark, damp warehouse.
It was far larger than expected, filled wall-to-wall with artificial doll wreckage. Like a war zone—limbs snapped, torsos split, scattered everywhere.
Eerily grotesque, like cursed ancient statues from a tomb.
"This place...?"
"As you see: the grave of failures."
Marsha casually kicked a doll head rolling across the floor.
It tumbled right to my feet, empty eyes staring up, sending chills down my spine.
"We experimented long ago with dolls to preserve people's skills. Like you. Noble research to pass skilled hunters' abilities to the next generation even after death."
"Ah... I see."
"'I see' my ass, you idiot. Unlike your convenient, safe method, ours was direct and risky."
Her voice turned icy.
"Your degraded crafting skill has low costs, but not ours. We used body parts from top hunters as materials."
"Body parts...?"
"Arms, legs—infused into doll cores to boost completion."
"Y-you kept these? Those hunters wouldn't sit still for that."
Marsha huffed.
"Pfft, I know what you're thinking—not that primitive. We partnered with top healing hunters' super regen skills. Limbs regrew instantly; no visible issues. I'll grant it was inhumane, though."
She said it casually, like someone else's tale.
"Academy bigwigs and famous clans all backed it—huge expectations. But that damn Aira brat stole most results and bolted to Black Sun. Total backstab."
Got it.
So Marsha's request to me—or rather, Aira's clone—was...
"Restore the project. Fix these up to usability."
I pondered.
The results were probably all in Aira Petrovna's—that genius criminal girl's—head.
She'd hogged all tech and data before fleeing.
But Marsha wouldn't expect full knowledge in my half-baked clone.
So she wanted...
'Aira Petrovna's skills.'
What even were they?
Seeing was believing.
I resummoned the Aira clone. The black-haired girl with blank face appeared again.
"...So, what skill should I have Aira use?"
"Hmm, try the Manipulation skill."
At Marsha's word, I ordered the clone.
"Aira, use Manipulation."
Without hesitation, the clone slowly raised both hands.
From her ten fingertips, thin, transparent threads slithered out.
Silk-thin like spider silk, but pulsing with fine mana. Too precise for mere 'mana strings'—'mana threads' fit better.
Dozens wriggled like living things, swimming freely in the air.
Like a master puppeteer at work. Far more delicate and tricky than expected.
I pointed at a nearby, less-damaged doll.
"Repair that one."
The clone nodded silently, deftly wielding her mana threads toward the broken parts.
Like a veteran surgeon operating, the threads reattached snapped arms precisely and stitched cracked torsos delicately. Breathtaking.
After meticulous work, she withdrew her hands.
The scrap heap now looked decent.
Human-like, not unlike my Aira clone...
Marsha stared silently, then clucked her tongue.
"As expected... can't fully restore the skill inside. Figures."
"Really? Looks fine to me."
"Looks don't matter. The core's dead—no reaction."
She kicked the repaired doll's belly.
"Even when that damn project got scrapped, this part never succeeded. Hoped, but no dice."
"...I see."
Despite her disappointed words, her face wasn't grim.
Reading me, she smirked.
"Little bro, these dolls are near-perfect likenesses of real hunters—their clones, essentially. Failures or not, leaving them wrecked is disrespectful to those hunters and clans."
"Ah, so restoring them is..."
"Yeah. Might earn forgiveness from the clans who backed us that day."
She clenched her fist, gazing at the strewn dolls.
"That damn Aira cleverly rigged it so only she could restore them, then split. Couldn't touch 'em till now. I'm hopeless at doll-making. Without your help, they'd rot here forever."
I nodded seriously outside, but inside, my thoughts raced elsewhere.
'These dolls' data...'
If truly made from elite hunters' body parts, they might hold not just looks, but skill data, combat experience, even mana patterns—faintly.
Full restoration might be impossible without Aira's stolen core tech.
But...
'That's 'cause my clone's under 50% fidelity, right?'
At full power, maybe proper restore?
Or repurpose as my clones?
Every Clone Creation level-up netted quality combat units!