Chapter 29. Doctor Chrombell (1)
Episode 29. Doctor Crombell (1)
Upon returning to the mansion, I opened the safe in my room. Reaching inside, I grasped the [Breath of the Ice Dragon]. A chilling cold seeped through the glass bottle.
Beside it, a black egg caught my eye. Just what is this? I reached out and touched the egg.
Its surface was smooth and hard, like polished diamond.
At that moment.
Ooooooh—
Flame Realm mana flowed from my core and holy wheel, seeping into the egg. The egg devoured the mana ravenously, as if starved for days.
'......Hmm.'
It didn't do this before. Why now? Did consuming the Breath of the Fire Dragon make it accept me?
Though curious, I couldn't keep feeding it mana indefinitely, so I soon withdrew my hand.
Gulp—
The egg gave one last shudder, as if regretfully licking its lips.
'I really need to figure out what this thing is.'
After securing the Breath of the Ice Dragon, I stepped outside. As expected, Sylvia was waiting.
"Sylvia."
"Sion! I've been waiting! Where's the S-rank elixir?"
"......"
I studied her briefly. She's already strong—how much stronger will she become after taking this? The thought was both slightly terrifying and exciting.
"Here. You need to prepare carefully before consuming it."
I handed her the Breath of the Ice Dragon, which she accepted. Feeling the cold mana radiating from the bottle, Sylvia's hands trembled.
"......Wow. It's real."
Her heightened senses recognized the dormant power within the elixir. Sylvia's eyes sparkled—literally, as if light might burst from them.
"Honestly, when you said you'd just give me an S-rank elixir, I was skeptical......"
"It's not for free. You'll have to pledge loyalty to the Special Investigation Headquarters."
Even with Father and the Inspection Bureau Director's approval, establishing the Special Investigation Headquarters wouldn't happen overnight.
First, the necessary laws had to be enacted, and knight-level personnel transfers within the Inspection Bureau were inevitable.
Once everything was settled, Ego would need to assemble strong knight-level agents and establish a system. Doing that alone, with my reputation as a parachute appointment, would be difficult.
But if Sylvia—already well-regarded within the Inspection Bureau—joined me?
'Things would go much smoother.'
Sylvia carefully tucked the Breath of the Ice Dragon into her coat. Then, with a suddenly serious expression, she spoke.
"I would've done it even without this. Sion. I can't just accept something so precious. At least let me pay you back."
"......Pay?"
"Yeah. The 50 billion Jeni I've saved up. I'll give it to you."
"No need. Save it for buying meteorite later."
"......Seriously?"
Sylvia raised both fists, adopting a fighting stance.
"You're not Sion. Who are you? Give me back my friend!"
"......Stop messing around. Just go."
It's true I'll need funds to prevent the North's destruction, but that's a separate matter.
Sylvia is a valuable asset to the North. There's no reason to take her money.
She's not the type to waste it carelessly—she'll undoubtedly invest it in strengthening herself.
That will do more to prevent the apocalypse than me taking her money.
"Really? I can just take it?"
"Yeah. Go. Please."
Only then did Sylvia break into a radiant smile.
"Thank you."
With that, she spun on her heel and left. Somehow, I felt a little tired. Still, my mood wasn't bad.
Southwestern region of the North [Travis].
There, an underground research facility called [Post 24] abducted territory citizens outside the law's reach, conducting horrific experiments.
Their goal was clear: develop a mana engine that could be implanted in humans.
To surpass knights and mages—humanity's pinnacle.
But.
After kidnapping countless people, grinding them up, and experimenting in unimaginable ways...
Almost no test subjects could fully integrate the mana engine or withstand its strain.
Most went insane or died before field application.
That's why escapees like Jefren were so valuable to them.
They had mana engines implanted yet remained functional—even forming organizations for revenge.
Research Director Ivan sat fuming in his dimly lit office within the facility.
'Jefren. If only we'd captured him. Our dream would be within reach.'
His crimson eyes fell on the newspaper atop his desk.
『Sion Carsen.
Subdues the Red Awl, captures leader Jefren.
......(omitted)
During an interview, Sion Carsen stated:
"The Inspection Bureau will not forgive those who abduct innocent people and conduct horrific experiments—beasts worse than dogs. Jefren will suffer in the North's deepest prison until death, and every mastermind behind this will not escape the Bureau's sight."
The masterminds he referenced have been identified as research facility Post 24......
-Daily_Charles.』
BANG!
Ivan slammed the desk, which collapsed weakly.
"Damn it. That ignorant fool. Trash who doesn't even recognize a historic turning point."
He wasn't worried about being pursued by the Inspection Bureau. This was fury over losing a precious test subject.
Post 24, headquartered in the Central Imperial Palace, had expanded through subsidiaries, layering the name [E5 Francis] over [Post 24].
Meaning, one name being exposed posed no real danger.
Moreover, E5 Francis had long funded [Travis] nobility heavily.
Over time, those monetary connections transformed into immense political power.
"Jackal."
At his call, a shadow slithered from between bookshelves.
It coalesced into a man in a black tuxedo.
"Yes, Director."
"Any progress retrieving Jefren from prison?"
"......We've bribed judges, wardens, guards—every avenue. But the case is too high-profile now, and with Sion Carsen publicly vowing no leniency... peaceful extraction seems unlikely."
"Not enough bribe money?"
"They claim the Inspection Bureau Director issued stern warnings—even life-threatening sums won't sway them this time."
Ivan felt his insides twisting. The same people who'd gladly taken his money now clammed up.
"If peaceful methods fail, we'll resort to force."
"......I'll contact the thief guilds."
"Do it. Also—any leads on killing Sion Carsen?"
The man called Jackal hesitated before answering.
"That's...... no one's accepting contracts yet."
Post 24—E5 Francis—had sponsored not just nobles but thief guilds, brotherhoods, mercenaries, and crime syndicates alike.
Yet even they were backing off.
Two reasons.
First, Sion Carsen won the Golden Star Tournament—meaning he's at least Intermediate Knight level.
Few possess the skill to kill such a fighter, and more critically, targeting a Carsen risks annihilating entire guilds if caught.
"Useless scum. Wasted all that money. What about our private forces?"
"Still too risky. Beyond Sion Carsen's abilities, if the Carsen family knights mobilize......"
Jackal trailed off, but the implication was clear. No matter how large their company, facing the Carsen's elite knights meant certain defeat.
Ivan massaged his temples with his right index finger.
"So we'll have to accept their proposal after all."
"They're too dangerous."
"What if we don't take direct action? Just connect him with those who hold grudges against Sion Carsen."
"That might work."
"Knights or nobles he humiliated would be ideal. That way, we keep our hands clean."
Humiliated knights included Louis Dykken, spearman Shien, and Sylvia Meyer. Among nobles, the Daikah family—specifically Guseto Ul Daikah.
"I'll reach out to them."
"Do it. Don't reveal information hastily. Dangle bait and reel them in slowly."
"Yes, understood."
As Jackal departed, Ivan gazed toward the laboratories and muttered.
"All those years spreading wealth and influence... yet the Carsen name still carries such weight."
Frustration.
Pure frustration.
But not for long.
Once the mana engine succeeds, everyone will grovel at Post 24's feet.
Days later.
In a reception room with plush sofas, fragrant tea and sweet biscuits adorned the table.
Doctor Crombell lounged comfortably while I sat opposite, sipping tea.
"How was the Golden Star Tournament?"
"Clearly, you're no half-wit failure as rumors claimed."
"Thank you for the kind words."
"Still as smug as ever."
"......Pardon?"
Crombell waved dismissively and continued.
"You're one of two things: a man with grand ambitions or a con artist."
"Which do I seem?"
"Annoyingly, the former. Hence your provocative letter. Correct?"
Hearing his deduction, I smiled smoothly.
"Only a genius recognizes genius."
"......Must you always sound so insufferable?"
"It's congenital."
"Fine. Let's proceed with that."
His expression added: 'Given your father, I shouldn't be surprised.'
"What did you discuss with my father?"
"He asked my purpose for visiting. Then offered lab facilities and research funding if I joined the Carsen family."
"......"
That surprised me. Father offered support? Had his perspective shifted?
Unclear.
But regardless, his backing benefits me—saving substantial research costs.
Doctor Crombell straightened from the sofa, picking up a biscuit.
"A generous offer, but insufficient."
"What's lacking?"
"A greater purpose."
"......!"
"Whether you're a vessel capable of housing a scientist like me—that's my question. If not, there's no reason to collaborate."
His words gave me pause. A greater purpose? Why would this old fox reveal his hand now?
This suggested he'd nearly opened his heart entirely.
But.
This easily?
"Something wrong? Did I broach too heavy a topic?"
"No. Just..."
I reconsidered. Had my regression memories biased me unfairly?
Perhaps this was always his nature—a man searching for someone to share his grand vision.
The tragedies he endured, and the worn-out man I'd met in the resistance, might have been later developments.
'Right... See him as he is now. Be honest.'
"Seems it's time to reveal my true reason for seeking you out."
Crombell bit into his biscuit.
"Which is?"
"I want to commission a black magic tracking device."
Clatter.
The chocolate-studded biscuit fell from Crombell's hand.
"......D-do you comprehend what you're saying?"
"The traitors who sold humanity to demons—I want to track their black magic."
Crombell's face paled beyond shock.
"You—you b-believe that? A high noble like you?"
"Absolutely."
"Why?"
"To prevent humanity's extinction."
As my words sank in, Crombell's hands trembled violently—I knew why.
'A tragic past.'
Once, he'd been a genius magical engineer researching for the Central Empire.
Until one day.
He began publishing about black magic, insisting humanity's betrayers must be purged.
The Empire dismissed him as a mad scientist or eccentric.
Still, he searched endlessly for someone who'd believe him.
No one did. Eventually, he vanished into seclusion.
When we met in the resistance, he'd become the distrustful mad scientist I remembered.
But now, he seemed at an earlier stage—prompting my firm declaration.
Not to the eccentric, but to the man who'd become resistance leadership—my comrade.
"We can't ignore them any longer, Doctor."