Dark Moon

I stepped into the operating room and looked around, tension coiling through me.

It was nothing like a normal operating room. None of the equipment you'd typically associate with surgery was present. No scalpel, either.

"No need to be nervous. We call it an operating room, but… this isn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the kind of surgery where we slice flesh open with a scalpel and dig around in someone's guts."

"…How do you restore mana roads? I'm not asking you to teach me the secret art. I just want a general idea of the method."

"A mage's mana roads aren't physical organs or nerves. Dark mages possess a special organ called a Dark Hole, but ordinary mages don't. Centered on the Astral — an extension of the mind — they construct mana roads, which function as a kind of virtual nervous system. You already know this better than I do."

"Some people claim mana roads are mental nerves."

"That's not entirely wrong. Mana roads themselves are intimately tied to the mind."

Opening the Astral, utilizing mana roads — all of it came down to will. Calling them mental nerves wasn't strange at all.

"If you can restore broken mana roads… doesn't that mean you can create them as well?"

"Different. Your mana roads are broken, not gone. What I do is restoration. I'm not creating something from nothing — I'm using the traces of the original mana roads as a blueprint to rebuild the pathways. Think of a building: the foundation is already there."

"I get the idea. So restoring mana roads means… you're going to mess with my mind?"

"Not the mind itself. More ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like working on the smaller branches that grow out from it. Why the sudden fear? If you don't want to do this, you can walk away."

I was uneasy — that much was true.

In the original game, the whole process finished in a single flash. But this wasn't a game.

Even so, I needed my mana roads restored if I was going to grow any stronger than I already was.

"I'll do it."

"Lie down on the table."

I lay down. The ceiling lights stared back at me.

A familiar, gut-churning dread crept up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my spine. Memories of receiving Mana Essence injections flooded back. My fists clenched without me realizing it.

Lana Gomez operated the machines beside the table. They hummed to life quietly. She attached two electrodes to my forehead and temple.

"What are you doing?"

"A machine that stabilizes the mind. In simple terms, anesthesia. If your will interferes with the mana roads during restoration, the process becomes much harder. Get some sleep. By the time you wake up, all sixteen of your mana roads will be fully restored."

"……."

I closed my eyes. But it didn't feel like anesthesia was taking hold.

"Your mind is far too tense. I already know your mental barriers are exceptional, so relax. Open those barriers and accept the wavelength. Then sleep. You came straight here after finishing your work — you must be exhausted."

I let the tension drain from my body.

I decided to put myself at ease. Eyes gently shut, I prepared to accept whatever mental wavelength she was talking about.

Then I felt something trying to enter my head through the electrodes. This was the mental wavelength she'd mentioned.

Now I can feel it. Is the wavelength just weak? Can something like this even put someone under?

The question nagged at me. Wouldn't chemical anesthesia be more reliable?

"This is a headache. Most people are out cold in ten seconds…. Stop overthinking. Slowly. Focus on your breathing. Accept the mental wavelength."

Lana Gomez's flat, even voice began to sound soothing. Drowsiness settled over me. This was probably how it was supposed to work. Following her instructions, I focused on my breathing and sank into sleep.

My consciousness drifted downward, like sinking into water. Still water, perfectly temperate — as comfortable as floating in a swimming pool. But being submerged didn't mean I was completely cut off from the outside. Voices filtered through faintly.

"You're here. Late. Hurry…."

"Mom. This is… real…."

"…Trust me. …Look…."

"Mages… Cavalia…."

"Begin…."

Scattered words, half-heard.

One of them snagged on my nerves.

Cavalia.

Cavalia Industries.

The damned corporation that treated human experimentation like a daily meal. One of the last companies in this world I ever wanted to get involved with.

…Why is Cavalia's name coming up?

I felt my submerged consciousness rising. I didn't open my eyes. As awareness sharpened, I remembered I was mid-restoration of my mana roads. If I fully woke up now, the process might fail.

Instead, I strained to listen to the voices outside. Their words came through more clearly than before.

"Ah, shit. Sixteen mana roads completely wrecked? This is such a pain in the ass!"

"Mila. Focus on assisting."

"Does it even matter? Looking at this guy, his mana roads got trashed from overload… customers like this are a dime a dozen for you, Mom."

"This is no ordinary customer. I've run this shop for decades and I've never seen a mage like this. His mana affinity potential is at least 9th Class or higher, and his mana sensitivity is 8th Class or above."

"What? That's just flattery, right? There's no way a monster with that kind of talent actually exists."

"He's right in front of you. I've already contacted Cavalia. We're selling this one to them and heading to the Freesel Kingdom."

"You know, right? I sold off my entire career to follow you, Mom. You better keep your promise."

"I'm not the one who needs to keep the promise — Cavalia is. And they will. From their perspective, ten billion credits and a noble title in the Freesel Kingdom are nothing."

"This guy's pretty pathetic, though. Of all the people to run into, it had to be someone like Mom…. Is this the tragedy of a magical genius? Mom just killed a future archmage."

"Stop talking nonsense and focus on the work. We need every mana road fully restored if we want to get full price for him."

"Fine, fine. Enough with the nagging. The Blue Distortion gas injected into mana road number eight has stabilized."

"Number eight just needs fine-tuning, then. You can handle that much, can't you?"

"I may have taken a break from this work, but I spent over a decade assisting under you. This is nothing."

"How's his mental state?"

"Why? Scared he'll wake up?"

"His mental strength is far beyond that of ordinary mages. It took him over two minutes to fall asleep under the mental wavelength."

"Heh. So his mental talent is as exceptional as his magical talent? His mind is stable. I've already maxed out the wavelength output — what are you so worried about?"

"We prepare for every contingency. Beginning restoration of mana road number ten."

I barely managed to hold back the rage boiling up inside me.

From the context of their conversation, I understood exactly what this mother-daughter pair was planning.

They were going to sell me to Cavalia Industries.

Fuck. This is absolute bullshit.

I had trusted Lana Gomez.

I had trusted a woman who'd built her reputation in this place over decades of work.

No — the truth is, I trusted the game NPC named Lana Gomez. She'd never betrayed a player even once. I had no idea she was connected to those Cavalia bastards.

Using game knowledge to snatch advantage after advantage, I'd started to believe I knew everything. That was arrogance.

I shouldn't have done that.

What I knew was only a tiny fraction of this world.

I want to kill these bitches right now, but….

They were restoring my mana roads so they could sell me for full price.

…I wait until every last mana road is restored.

Fortunately, these women had no idea I was half-awake.

I can feel the wavelength, but I could shake it off whenever I want. This is the maximum output of a mental wavelength? Mental wavelengths aren't much after all.

I waited quietly for the restoration to finish. It demanded considerable patience.

The only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that my shattered mana roads were being repaired one by one.

"That finished faster than I expected?"

"His high mana affinity and sensitivity made the restoration go smoothly. I never expected the rejection reaction to fail to trigger even once."

"That surprised me too. Normally restoring a single mana road causes about five rejection reactions…."

"Mila. Stay here and watch him. Cavalia's people are scheduled to arrive in three hours, so…."

I quietly sat up. Lana Gomez had her back turned, peeling off her gloves, while Mila Gomez — blue-dyed hair — stared at me with wide eyes and stumbled backward.

"Uh, Mom…!"

My original thirty-four mana roads plus the sixteen newly restored ones. Fifty mana roads in total roared to life. Magic constructed and activated in an instant.

"Mila?"

Lana Gomez turned to look at her daughter. Mila opened her mouth as if to speak — then her body swelled and burst with a wet pop.

A heavy splat.

Blood and organs sprayed in every direction. Mila's small intestine struck Lana Gomez's shoulder and slid off. Lana's pupils trembled as her daughter's blood and entrails painted her from head to toe.

"You— you— you son of a bitch!!"

Lana Gomez screamed at me. She yanked something from her pants pocket and aimed it in my direction. At the same moment, both of her arms exploded.

"AAAAAAGH!"

I looked at the object that had fallen to the floor along with her hands. A golden rod, runes etched across its surface.

"An artifact loaded with Blaze magic? Compression-and-fire type. Would've been fairly threatening if she'd managed to activate it."

"Y-you ungrateful little shit!"

"Ungrateful? Don't give me that crap. This was a fair transaction. You told me to trust you, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and I did. What I got in return was a spectacular stab in the back. Selling me to Cavalia? You fucking bitch. I almost got dragged back into that hellish lab-rat existence all over again. Lana Gomez. You're not dying clean."

"You knew everything…?"

I walked toward her. Lana Gomez clenched her teeth. She bolted for the door, slammed it open with her shoulder, and screamed as she stumbled outside.

"Security! Emergency! Kill this bastard right n— AAAARGH!"

Lana Gomez's right foot exploded. Her body listed sideways. I detonated her left arm as well, then lifted her into the air with telekinesis.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it…!"

I took a moment to appreciate the twisted agony on Lana Gomez's face — and then security appeared from both the upper and lower floors. The moment they saw me, they opened fire. Magic bullets poured down. None of them pierced my barrier. I'd poured everything into crafting it with all fifty mana roads. Low-grade magic rounds weren't going to crack something like that.

"Everyone in this building dies today."

I lifted my right foot slightly, then stomped it back down. A magic circle flared beneath my foot and vanished.

Instantly, current surged outward from my feet in every direction. The electricity raced through the floors, walls, and ceilings, spreading through the entire building. The men who'd been emptying their guns at me seized up and collapsed one after another.

"Stop…! I was wrong! I admit it! I tried to sell you to Cavalia! I'll apologize properly. Let's end this here. What you want is money, right? I'll give you everything I've saved. About three billion credits. You need money too, don't you?!"

"I can make that kind of money whenever I want. Right now, settling this fucking mood comes first."

"You killed my precious daughter! You killed the security here too! You goddamn slaughterer! End it here! Let's stop! I'm saying this for your own good!"

"Just beg me to spare you, you piece of shit."

"……Will you let me live?"

"No."

I hung Lana Gomez from the second floor of the building. Every time the wind blew, her armless torso swayed limply. A rope around her neck, her face contorted in pure agony.

I walked openly through the crowd of onlookers. They muttered among themselves as they watched me. Lana Gomez's customers whispered about killing me. I ignored every last one of them. Word of this incident would spread eventually.

I'd love to kill those Cavalia bastards who were coming to buy me too… but there's no way they'd show up after a mess like this.

Feeling considerably better, I walked on. No one blocked my path. The full story of what happened here would trickle out, and eventually Lana Gomez would be the one people cursed — Lana Gomez, the woman who sold out her own customers.

I left Aira Street behind.

Five police cars, lights flashing, blocked my way. Armed officers — the London Guard — surrounded me in a threatening ring.

"Hands up and get on your knees, you murdering bastard."

A large man brandished a sword in one hand as he spoke.

I lifted the bag I was carrying. It was a little larger than a guitar case. The officers flinched.

"Fuck. What the hell are you doing? You looking to die right here?"

"Step aside. I have something I need to deliver to Countess Freewood."

"…What?"

"I said get lost, pigs."

"You fucking little—"

"It's something extremely important to Countess Freewood."

"……."

He ground his teeth and looked around. His fellow officers all shook their heads.

"Fuck…."

He stepped aside.

I walked past him without hesitation.

This was the power of nobility.

I'd merely mentioned a name, and the London Guard — the force charged with protecting Neo London's public order — could do nothing. They didn't even consider subduing me and confiscating what I carried.

Remarkable.

The power held by this city's rulers.

Authority.

It was a power I truly coveted.