Chapter 76
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Test Subjects
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No matter how slaves might crawl in the dirt, how class systems were taken for granted, or how the very concept of human rights didn't even exist in the dictionary of this medieval fantasy world—
every era has its 'minimum line' that must not be crossed.
The same held true here.
A noble beating a commoner black and blue?
The guards would look the other way.
Humiliating and abusing slaves?
No one batted an eye.
Especially if they were slaves treated worse than livestock.
Torture?
Threats?
Forcing them to work their bodies to the bone?
All perfectly fine.
But even amid all that, there were a few lines everyone tiptoed around—and one of them was
human experimentation.
Modifying human bodies at will, without regard for method or means.
"Unethical."
"Invading God's domain."
"Contrary to the natural order."
The surface-level excuses always sounded so noble.
With religion holding massive sway in this medieval fantasy world, medicine amounted to little more than firing off a few spells and sprinkling holy water.
Slicing into bodies just to study their structure had nothing to do with healing—so the very idea was branded a 'taboo' from the start.
But—
honestly speaking, in a world where human rights didn't even exist to begin with, those lofty words weren't the real reason.
There was a far uglier truth.
'There was once an era when these human experiments ran rampant, and humanity was driven to the brink of extinction by the very byproducts they created—or so the tales go.'
Uncontrolled test subjects.
Rampaging modified humans.
Monsters twisted by magic and flesh, no longer knowing what they'd become.
In a world already teeming with magic, monsters, and intermingled races,
what horrors might 'intentionally engineered lifeforms' have wrought? It was hard to even imagine.
The original story glossed over it vaguely, treating it like a MacGuffin with no concrete records.
But the legends all ended the same way.
Humanity, in their hubris reaching for God's domain by freely remaking human bodies, ultimately couldn't contain their creations—and paid the price.
And so it began from that time.
Nobles, royals, madmen—no matter who, they all pretended to wash their hands of human experimentation, at least on the surface.
Of course, it never truly vanished.
They just stopped doing it so brazenly.
…Which is why
this underground laboratory I was about to fling wide open wasn't merely some sordid secret.
It was a place branded as crossing the line in this world.
"You do know that if the Papal Court catches wind of this, it's an instant death sentence, right?"
"Ugh...! Hmph! Even if they do, the entire Argent Family already knows I conduct human experiments! Besides, the Family Head himself recognized my talents and granted special permission!"
It was around the time I'd half-smashed Walter's room with my club.
The floor was littered with shattered alchemy flasks and fragments of magic beakers, while unidentified solutions from the experiments seeped between the stone tiles, filling the air with a foul stench.
Perhaps realizing the entire room was about to be demolished, Walter gritted his teeth but ultimately backed down a step.
The underground lab's very existence had already been exposed, after all.
He dispelled the concealment magic on the floor and manually opened the entrance leading below.
Without any need for guidance, he trailed right behind me, gnashing his teeth all the while.
His face plainly showed anger and anxiety, but beneath it lurked a strange confidence, as if he still had some ace up his sleeve.
"So... you're saying even if I report this to the Papal Court, you've got nothing to fear?"
"Obviously! I'm Walter Argent, one of the Argent heirs! You think the Papal Court can touch me?!"
"…Fair enough. You're probably right."
In any ordinary noble house, the moment a lab like this—with its ominous smells—popped up from the basement, every baron or viscount without exception would drop to their knees begging for secrecy.
But this was Argent.
A house where the family name trumped the law.
An Argent child dabbling in human experiments?
The Papal Court would just shake their heads and move on—it was obvious.
These two couldn't turn their backs on each other in the first place.
"Heh heh... You know those monsters the Papal Court uses to train their priests and holy knights? I was the one supplying them from the shadows."
Walter twisted his lips upward, as if revealing some grand secret.
"Know what the foundation of human experimentation is? 'Synthesis.' Mixing humans with monsters. It's the fastest, most common method."
He continued without a hint of hesitation.
"So every month, I capture a set number of monsters. But as you know, catching monsters by hand is no easy feat."
And so Walter Argent threw the slaves owned by Argent into the fray as bait whenever he needed monsters for his experiments.
To put it precisely, it was a 'massacre' that occurred on a regular monthly cycle.
Normally, even a single captured monster came with a 'life allowance' attached.
After all, it often cost human lives to procure them, so the price was steep.
But Argent was different.
A house overflowing with slaves.
There was no way 'life allowances' would apply to the monsters obtained atop the corpses of slaves used as disposable bait.
Besides, this world's church—a faith receiving massive support under the banner of 'saving humanity from monsters'—needed combat-ready foes to train priests and holy knights.
Cheap.
Steady supply.
In bulk.
In other words, no one else fulfilled those conditions but Walter Argent.
That was the origin.
Of this relationship, one where they turned blind eyes and kept things rolling.
Walter evaded the Papal Court's scrutiny in exchange for offloading monsters at rock-bottom prices, while the Papal Court gained cheap practice dummies for real combat experience without breaking the bank.
A deal where each covered the other's filth, thriving solely in the shadows.
"Grrr...!"
"Kyaaaaah—!"
"Keeek, kiik!"
After descending the seemingly endless spiral stairs, we finally reached the underground laboratory.
The moment we arrived, I instinctively halted a step.
I prided myself as a surgeon who'd witnessed countless deaths and mangled bodies, but this place far exceeded that realm.
Beneath the low ceiling, a handful of flickering, faulty magic lamps barely pushed back the darkness—and between their dim glows stretched a maze of cells barred by metal grates and reinforced glass.
And inside them...
Arm joints bent at inhuman angles.
Breathing rhythms that matched neither humans nor monsters.
Forms where flesh mingled awkwardly with scales, fur with skin.
Too altered to call human, yet bearing undeniable human traces to dismiss as mere monsters.
Bound by iron frames engraved with restraint magic and chains pulsing with mana, they ceaselessly emitted sounds—screams, perhaps, or attempts at communication.
I frowned without thinking.
'Severing, suturing, transplanting.'
Medically speaking, it was none of those.
This was closer to assembly than any form of treatment.
At that moment, an unrestrained laugh erupted from Walter trailing behind me.
"Puhahaha!"
He looked genuinely delighted.
"What, you scared?"
He sneered down at me.
"Acting all tough earlier. Well, makes sense—you're just a dirty-blooded bastard, after all."
What did that have to do with anything?
My revulsion at this spectacle and my birth.
The thread holding my reason snapped taut at those words.
My fist clenched.
I felt my nails digging into my palm with crystal clarity.
I wanted to spin around and smash his face until the bones showed.
But I endured, even as blood welled in my palm.
If I lost control now, Walter would repeat this hellish nightmare until the day he died.
"Walter."
My voice came out calmer than I'd expected.
"What... do you think life is?"
"Huh? What?"
There was no provocation or scheming in the question.
As someone who'd once stood on the side of preserving life, I truly couldn't comprehend it.
Which made his response all the more repulsive.
"Seriously? That's the best you've got?"
Walter's face twisted in sincere boredom.
"Anyone overhears, they'd think those caged trashes have lives 'equal' to ours."
"…What?"
"Different class. Class."
He jabbed a finger at his own chest.
"Even if you're only half-baked, you're still a noble, Lucas. You oughta know that much."
His following words deviated not an inch from expectation.
Chosen bloodlines.
A mindset that drew lines from birth, sorting people into categories.
The logic deeming lives outside those lines mere tools.
Classic class-society thinking.
And words that clashed head-on with my past life, where I'd valued every heartbeat and breath equally, no matter whose.
In that instant, I was certain.
This bastard wasn't some incomprehensible human.
He was one I shouldn't comprehend.
Just as a person couldn't converse with a beast, there was no point in exchanging words any longer.
"Well, didn't realize you were so interested in my test subjects."
Walter shrugged.
"It's the Family Head's orders anyway. I'll even give you one of these special."
"……"
"They're all slated for disposal next month regardless. I've used 'em plenty—got bored."
A pleased laugh.
His expression made it abundantly clear he'd relished my reaction moments ago.
But that smile froze solid at my next words.
"Cut the bullshit and open the path to the deeper underground lab."
"Wh-what...?"
"Who the hell do you think you're fooling, you little shit."
I swung the club in my hand, smashing nearby equipment once more.
Krunch!
Glass shattered, and Walter's face contorted.
"Down in the deepest level, there's that young demon girl you haven't used as a test subject yet—just extracting from her."
"H-how do you...?"
I looked straight up at him.
"You fucking bastard."
I said it without an ounce of mercy.
"If anything's happened to her—even a little—"
"I'll kill you for sure."