Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: Crown Hall Hypnosis App Bust Operation - 3
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We started with a precise analysis.
If it had just been me and Pingvales, things might have gotten a bit messy. We'd have had to borrow a lab from the Academy or the Violet Magic Tower, or raid a nearby artifact shop and buy out their stock of magic stones.
But we had a Magic Tower Master right here. I stretched out my hand like a surgeon calling for a scalpel and said,
"Magic Tower Master?"
"Yeah, here."
Clink. The Violet Magic Tower Master held out her hand.
A Magic Tower Master is like a walking mana generator. That's not why I grew up drinking her yawns, but still. I interlaced our fingers tightly.
I received an unimaginable amount of mana and, right there in my seat, constructed an artificial brain. A holographic image popped up in the air, like a mannequin head detached from its body.
I transferred the illusion magic implanted in the boy's mind into the artificial brain and played it back. Based on the flow of mana and the feedback from the artificial brain, I began to grasp the spell's specific effects.
This was an illusion magic that targeted the subconscious.
1) It prevented the victim from realizing they'd been ensnared. 2) It compelled obedience to commands. 3) It forced suicide if discovered by others.
Having heard my explanation, the Violet Magic Tower Master spoke up as if something had just occurred to her.
"...Hypnosis app?"
I was utterly shocked. How do you even know that?
"What kind of comics have you been reading?"
"No, I just... happened to see it somewhere...!!"
I might need to censor the modern map I left at the tower. I'd crammed in everything from my past life knowledge, and now the ever-curious Magic Tower Master had seen things she shouldn't have.
So far, the analysis pointed to a standard hypnosis app.
Any decent mage could figure this much out with enough time and effort, but... there was something slyly twisted into the spell. A hidden function?
What triggered it? Visual image? No. Sound? Nope. I'd checked all five senses... Time? There was a reaction to the passage of time. I accelerated the artificial brain's perceived time flow by hundreds of times.
Flip flip flip. The artificial brain's subjective time passed about a week.
Like a tightly closed flower bud blooming with time, the tangled part unraveled, activating the hidden fourth function. The artificial brain slipped into a hypnotic trance and began praying to someone.
And it mumbled out information in an encrypted, compressed state. Let me summarize.
"...So, basically, anyone hit by this hypnosis app spits out information somewhere on a weekly basis."
"........."
It was magic that turned people into CCTVs. The overall quality was high, and the hidden parts were so subtle that even I might not have noticed without close scrutiny. Who the hell made this?
Pingvales, who'd been listening beside me, hardened her expression.
"An illusion spell like that exists, huh. Can anyone from the Violet Magic Tower cast something like this?"
"No, most couldn't. Even I would've needed about six months from scratch to complete something this polished... A talented illusion mage must've spent at least a year on it."
Pingvales pressed like an interrogator, and I gave my honest assessment. This was serious business.
We didn't know how many people were affected yet, but if they could plant it in a random pickpocket kid... it might be more widespread than we thought.
In other words, the imperial capital was crawling with unidentified spies. Ones who didn't even know they were spies.
Pingvales pushed up her glasses.
"This doesn't seem like something I can just omit from my report. I'll inform my superiors and pay a visit to the Violet Magic Tower for an inspection."
"Oh, that's... exactly what I'd hope for. I don't want any unnecessary suspicions... thrown my way..."
The Violet Magic Tower Master nodded readily. Then added,
"B-but it's not from inside the tower. I... definitely wiped everything clean. None of the current research in the tower... matches this."
Her stammering voice carried trust in the Violet Magic Tower members. Not rock-solid belief, but a fragile hope that it please wasn't them.
It hurt my heart, but I had to dent that optimism.
"But, Magic Tower Master. Doesn't this feel familiar?"
"Yeah...?"
"Like Face-Scar Senior's magic."
"...L-Lorey's magic?"
The Violet Magic Tower Master widened her eyes in surprise. Pingvales flipped open her notebook, jotted it down, and confirmed,
"You mean 'Puppetmaster' Lorey?"
"If that's the Face-Scar Senior I call her, then yeah, Lorey... Why do you think that?!"
"The basic framework is identical. I've read her thesis. But I'm not saying she's the culprit. The frame matches, but the final product seems mixed with other stuff."
"M-move aside. Let me check."
The Violet Magic Tower Master set the artificial brain on the floor and delivered a low kick. Crack! The illusion magic shattered. Light particles scattered, and broken mana fragments rolled across the ground.
Feeling the familiar framework in the remnants, she crouched down with a gloomy expression.
"This... is really Lorey's..."
"Let's dig deeper. If our research data leaked externally... the tower should step up too."
"Y-yeah. If it leaked... we have to erase it all."
"........."
I closed my eyes quietly. The Violet Magic Tower. Where I'd spent half my life. I might not remember names, but the memories with them were crystal clear.
Suspecting long-time colleagues wasn't pleasant. Uncomfortable, even.
It must be worse for the Magic Tower Master. I patted her shoulder in quiet comfort, but she gently brushed my hand away.
"I'm fine."
Shake.
With those words, something ominous flickered vaguely beyond her eyes. Rage? Sorrow? Some form of resolve. Like she'd harvest the sin herself if it had bloomed.
That sight—like a massive meteor drifting through space finally plummeting down, immense power moving with intent—gave me chills.
We needed to find the caster first.
For now, I named the spell Big Brother.
Big Brother was a spell. It had a caster, it was cast, and it was planted. And we had a victim in our hands who'd been hit by it. If they remembered the caster's appearance, this would be straightforward.
Extracting an image from someone's mind and rendering it in 3D is easier than eating. Even a fleeting glimpse leaves a fragment somewhere in the brain that I can pull out.
But the world doesn't make things that easy, does it?
"I-I really... don't remember anything like that."
"I'm Agent Yuri Lanster from the Imperial Defense Bureau, holding unlimited kill authorization for investigating Class 2+ threats. Think carefully and answer again. Nothing at all?"
"........."
The kid froze pale at her menacing "If you're lying, you're really in for it." I waved her off to stop pressing him.
"No need to squeeze him more. He really doesn't know."
"Confirmed."
"Instead, take us to where you live. We'll check your routine. Obey nicely, and no one around you gets hurt."
"...Y-yes, sir."
I led the boy into the alley.
No memory of it, huh.
Two possibilities: either a veteran who could erase memories too, or he got hit without knowing it was hypnosis magic.
I leaned toward the latter.
Because naturally manipulating someone else's memories is insanely hard. Even for a genius like me. So it'd be the same for others.
Human minds and memories interact complexly. Erase a trivial one, and their personality might flip. Easy for those around to notice.
If it were me, I'd go for cost-effective disguise over tricky memory wipes to cover tracks.
"Why not develop and sell spells like this? No research funding worries then."
"If it were that easy, we'd have partnered with the Defense Bureau ages ago."
If they had, this might be a cyberpunk city.
Mages puppeteering minds, agents guarding the shadows, skinny emperor... Perfect session fodder.
But when session material hits reality, my head spun. Suspecting acquaintances sucked, and I worried about the Defense Bureau's full audit of the Violet Magic Tower.
We had plenty of research data that'd be awkward to show outsiders.
"Uh, Pingvales. Could you handle inspecting my room?"
"What, got human trafficking records or something?"
She gave me a "No way" look. Her expression screamed "How much do I need to cover for you?" so I hurried to explain. Not that kind of trouble.
"No, but... you know, stuff you inevitably dive into as a spirited teen."
"Now I'm intrigued."
Scary imagining another agent judging me. Luckily, Pingvales took interest. No need for a "Shame Suppression" spell.
Even the glorious imperial capital had its shadows.
Dirty, dark alleys hidden behind bright, bustling streets. Places ordinary citizens never entered. I scanned the surroundings.
Not that disordered or dire. No bodies in streets, no drugged zombies dying standing. Seemed managed, somewhat.
Relatively affluent too. Even as a slum, it was the capital's underbelly. Folks looked well-nourished.
Pairs of eyes gleamed in the dark. Peeking from window cracks and door gaps, wary of outsiders. Checking us out.
Communities always have their order, but places like this lean more wild than societal.
What happens in the wild when another pack invades territory?
"Hey, this ain't a place for outsiders to poke around."
"Hm, classic."
"...Don't go starting trouble. Scram."
A bald thug stepped up threateningly. No club, and his words were almost polite despite his looks. Probably cautious because of our group's vibe.
The Violet Magic Tower Master fidgeted her fingers nervously.
"Sh-should I clear him...?"
"I'll handle persuading him, Magic Tower Master."
In the wild, establish hierarchy clear. Show I'm way above, and they won't bare teeth.
I could intimidate with "From the tower" or "This busty-suited beauty's Defense Bureau," but proving it gets messy.
Here, universal power works everywhere.
I flicked a gold coin.
"...With that puny thing."
I flicked a gem.
"Dunno where you're from, but..."
I flicked a fat ruby.
"Milord nobility. Just give the order, I'll guide you anywhere."
Enough money proves status itself. I'm no true noble, but our Magic Tower Master is legit aristocracy, so not wrong.
He bowed low, ultimate submission. I switched to arrogant noble mode, lazily waving him off. Pingvales caught on quick and played along.
"Our young master's mage fled, and we're tracking him, but..."
"Don't hinder me, scum. I won't ask your help, I'll investigate and leave myself. If something breaks, double pay. Tell your gang to shut up."
The bald guy bowed deep and vanished into shadows. Should be quiet for a while... I patted the boy's back as he fretted about "not recognizing nobility."
"Lead on. Do your normal routine. Where you sleep, morning routes, meals, all that. Exactly."
"Y-yes, sir..."
The boy stumbled through back alleys. Pickpocket kid dens, tribute spots, usual paths. Even the bathroom.
Nothing special after checking. Maybe blast mana for wide scan? Or call Niore from the Academy?
As I pondered, Pingvales grilled the boy verbally.
"Nothing else unusual? Think. Somewhere you visit regularly, somehow."
"W-well... uh, every week there's a prayer meeting."
"You should've said that first!"
Always the key info after full tours!
They say shadow powers shift like seasons. Last time Red Viper Gang ruled alleys, before that a rich merchant dabbled in underworld, flashed influence, then poof.
For bottom-rung pickpocket kids, such power struggles were distant tales. Boss fights above didn't change their lives.
Just who collected tribute changed occasionally.
If some new crew enters the den saying "Tribute to us now," they nod and comply.
But the group that took over the alleys about a year ago was different. Slightly religious tint.
They held weekly prayer meetings in their central square. A statue of unknown figure in the middle; pray to it, anything goes.
Boy described it as genderless, face crumbled creepily.
Not a goddess statue—those have clear breasts.
Anyway.
Miss tribute? Clubbing. Skip prayer? Strict punishment. Verbal warnings too.
Friend skipped with flu, vanished mysteriously.
Hearing this, I quietly prepped magic. Preconception maybe, but reeked of black mage. Pingvales felt it too, loosening up.
Combat vibe incoming.
Sure enough, entering central square per boy's lead: tons of folks ready to "welcome" us. Eyes rolled back in eagerness.
Number... about 70.
To drive out intruders? Or just pick a fight?
Watching their move, a slicked-back middle-aged guy gripped a spear, aiming at us.
"You've been too nosy."
Latter. What a friendly neighborhood.
Spotted the bald gem-taker mid-crowd. Reclaim after fight.
Alone, I'd run. Black mage ambush risk deadly.
But we had Magic Tower Master. Ultimate nuke if needed. Solid.
Pingvales, melee master, guarded front.
So, secure tank and insurance—what's a mage do? Simple.
I pulled three reagent vials from robe pocket, splashed floor while chanting. Red, blue, green mixed chaotically, spreading along ground.
Magic infested space, confining it. Doors appeared on surfaces. Wood to iron bars—all imaginable doors. Chant complete.
Almost everything.