Chapter 8: The One Who Comprehends All
The moment Hodell confirmed the copy, a violent surge of energy flooded through his body.
There was nothing warm or gentle about it.
It felt as though molten metal had been poured directly into his veins, forced through every vessel, every nerve, every inch of flesh without mercy. The sudden pain made his body tremble, and for an instant, even his vision blurred.
Yet strangely enough, the process ended far faster than he had expected.
The violent current rose like a storm, then dissipated almost as quickly, as if his body possessed an absurd level of compatibility with this kind of modification. It was like a lock that had finally found the correct key. The pain was real, brutal even, but the resistance was far lower than it should have been.
The system prompt appeared immediately.
[You have obtained the ability: Energy Simulation.]
[Intelligence +2. Mystery +2. Charm +2.]
[You have gained the talent: Low level Energy Stabilization.]
[You have gained the talent: Low level Energy Perception.]
[Ability: Energy Simulation
Effect: Copy and manifest the energy effects of other life forms.]
[Potential Evaluation: B+]
[Low level Energy Stabilization
Talent effect: Simulating energy effects will not cause backlash upon failure.]
[Low level Energy Perception
Talent effect: Slightly increases perception of all forms of energy. You may notice details others fail to detect.]
Beside the platform, Reed was staring fixedly at the crystal panel.
Shock was no longer something he could hide. The data stream had spiked sharply, only to fall and stabilize in an almost perfect curve a moment later. His expression stiffened for a second, then twisted into an excitement so intense that it looked almost deranged.
"This… this is…"
His lips moved, but for a moment he could barely form words.
Then he looked at Hodell.
No, not at Hodell.
At the result.
At the proof.
At the treasure.
"Is this the finished form of the New Human project?" Reed murmured hoarsely. "Unbelievable…"
The light in his eyes changed. The initial shock transformed into a fervent, reverent obsession, the kind of fanaticism that belonged more to a believer kneeling before a miracle than to a researcher facing an experiment.
At that same moment, a researcher hurried over, his tone full of disbelief.
"My lord, the preliminary examination is complete. The subject's gene chain remains intact. There has been no structural damage."
Reed's breathing quickened.
A flush spread across his pale face, and he suddenly opened his arms as though he wanted to embrace the future itself.
"The Genetic Source remains intact…"
His voice trembled with exhilaration.
"That means the replication process can theoretically continue indefinitely. No destruction, no forced guidance, no collapse…"
He stared at Hodell as if seeing a holy relic.
"This has already surpassed the domain of ordinary research. This is a miracle!"
But miracles were not painless.
The moment the copying process ended, weakness crashed back into Hodell like a wave returning to shore. His body felt hollowed out from the inside, as if something fundamental had been scooped away. A deep chill spread from his marrow through his limbs, and the blackness gathering at the edge of his vision came in repeated waves.
The sensation was bizarrely familiar.
A person overworked to the point of collapse. Soreness in the lower back. Weakness in the legs. Energy drained dry.
He nearly laughed through the discomfort.
So this is what it feels like to have the body warning label of "you have been hollowed out."
Supported by two silent guards, he was almost dragged through the following examination. Only after another round of tests did they finally send him back to the same room as before.
Then time became vague.
He drifted in and out of consciousness, worn down by weakness, fatigue, and the lingering burden of having his body rewritten again.
An unknown amount of time later, perhaps a day, perhaps longer, the door opened once more.
It was Reed.
His face had already recovered its composure.
"Mr. Eli," he said, addressing him by that name openly for the first time, "Dr. Moore wishes to see you."
…
For the second time, Hodell stepped into the study filled with exotic plants.
This time, unlike before, the moment he entered, Xavier Moore's gaze settled on his pale complexion and slightly unsteady steps.
"It seems the price of choice is not a light one," Xavier said.
There was no sympathy in his tone. It was merely an observation, a conclusion spoken aloud.
"In the act of creating something from nothing, weakness is a natural growing pain. If anything, this further proves the correctness of our path. Your current body is still only a crude mold. It must be tempered and refined."
Hodell said nothing.
If it were not for the system panel, he genuinely felt Xavier might have been able to talk a corpse into agreeing with him.
The man had that kind of logic.
If his left eye twitched, that would be a sign of incoming fortune. If his right eye twitched, that would just be feudal superstition. Every outcome could be explained in whatever way best served his doctrine.
Xavier did not waste time on pleasantries.
"Eli, you successfully chose Energy Simulation, and more importantly, you completed the process while keeping the Genetic Source intact. That is excellent. Better than even my most optimistic projection."
He rose from his seat.
"That means you now qualify for a mission of much greater strategic significance."
Hodell listened in silence, but inwardly, every warning bell in his head began ringing at once.
"A sufficiently powerful individual can affect the outcome of a battle," Xavier said. "But an individual positioned precisely at the junction of power can alter the direction of an era."
He stopped, then looked straight at Hodell.
"The General Administration of Mysteries, the Empire's highest institution for handling all superhuman incidents, Esper management, and mystical research, will soon require a new helmsman."
His gaze sharpened.
"A helmsman who truly understands our ideals. One capable of pushing innovation from within."
Then, with the calm certainty of a man announcing tomorrow's weather, he said:
"And you, Eli, will be the one we place upon that throne."
Hodell's mind went still for a second.
So that was it.
That was why Moore had personally involved himself.
That was why the Erhai School had invested so much into him.
Xavier continued, leaving no room for interruption.
"Time is limited. The organization will not wait forever. Within the next six months, you must complete your initial transformation."
He began listing it as though reading from a prepared plan.
"You will raise your combat power rapidly to a level sufficient to survive your initial challenges. You will receive systematic knowledge infusion. You will be polished in etiquette, bearing, rhetoric, and all the necessary forms of presentation. You will undergo training in every skill required to establish yourself within the General Administration."
He walked up until he stood directly before Hodell.
This was not persuasion.
This was assignment.
"There is no need to look surprised, and even less reason to consider refusal. As the perfected outcome of the New Human project, this is the destiny you must bear. It is also your responsibility."
A faint smile curved his lips.
Perfect.
Elegant.
And completely cold.
"In that position, you will serve the organization's ultimate goals with far greater efficiency. At the same time, you will obtain authority, influence, and status far beyond anything you could once have imagined."
He turned slightly, as if the matter were already decided.
"Rest well. Master your new ability as quickly as possible."
His voice remained calm.
"You will have much to do."
The system chimed at once.
[The first phase of the mission has been completed.]
[You gained 25,000 EXP.]
[Mission requirements updated.]
[Second phase mission requirement: Within six months, reach a comprehensive level that satisfies the Erhai School.]
[Reward: 50,000 EXP, Erhai School Favorability +300, Xavier Favorability +5, Reed Favorability +10.]
Hodell silently read the prompt.
Then he looked at Xavier again.
Favorability.
How funny.
The same people who would skin him alive for failure were now being neatly sorted into numbers like they were ordinary quest givers.
…
"Matteo, I heard Lord Reed has been personally overseeing an experimental subject lately?"
A researcher leaned lazily against a console while asking the question.
"Mm."
Matteo did not even look up. His hands continued operating the crystal panel before him.
"It's been a long time since I saw Lord Reed handle a project so closely. Do you know where that subject came from?"
"I don't."
Matteo's tone was flat.
"And it isn't something we need to know."
Across the observation room, an experimental subject was being forced backward into a painful arch. A control device locked over its head pulsed with dull light while panicked screams spilled from its throat without pause.
Because of the soundproof barrier, the noise was faint.
That somehow made it worse.
Even through the sealed panels, the shrill sobbing still seeped through in thin, needle like threads.
The first researcher sighed.
"In a place like this, you have to learn how to talk to yourself."
He pointed toward the screaming subject.
"Otherwise, one day you'll end up just like them."
…
In the public rest area, Number Three stood silently against the wall.
His eyes were empty.
The only sound in the room was the low hum of the ventilation system and the faint electrical buzz of active equipment. Every now and then, an unconscious mutter or twitch from another subject cut through the silence and made the whole place feel even more oppressive.
Number Eleven happened to walk past while stretching.
His shoulder slammed hard into Number Three.
Number Three's vacant eyes instantly snapped into focus. A violent, hostile stare nailed itself to Number Eleven's face.
"Didn't see you there," Number Eleven said with a fake smile, his hands lifting in insincere apology.
Instead of leaving, he leaned closer and lowered his voice with malicious concern.
"I heard you caused some trouble recently. They sent you straight back for recycling, huh? What happened? Needed to come back and relearn the basics?"
Number Three let out a cold snort.
Number Eleven took half a step closer.
"Well, it's no surprise." He smiled wider. "I hear Lord Reed's attention is all on that new Number Seven now."
The instant he heard Number Seven, something changed in Number Three's eyes.
The murderous intent was still there, but now it was swallowed by something uglier.
Jealousy.
Humiliation.
Rage at being compared, replaced, and ignored.
…
"Another mission…"
Number Two let out a quiet sigh and glanced at the three half mad companions nearby.
He increasingly suspected he might be the only remotely sane person left in the group.
The organization's training methods were systematic.
Thorough.
Cruel.
First, dreamscape erosion to distort perception.
Then drugs to grind down personality.
He had once felt lucky that, long ago, a particular researcher had shown a trace of amateurish mercy toward him.
Now he felt nothing.
Only numbness remained.
Through the screen, Reed's indoctrination played once again, unchanged in tone and rhythm.
"Success is evolution. Complete this mission, and you will move one step closer to the Pure Land. There, you will know eternal peace and joy, and never again suffer pain."
At the same time, in Number Two's mind, that illusory monster called Skinner still chased him day and night without rest.
…
"Dr. Moore, do you truly trust Eli?"
Reed stood respectfully near the observation area, but doubt had returned to his eyes.
"Whether it was killing that jailer or the way he performed during the Gene Completion process, Eli has displayed a startling level of unpredictability. If we nurture him without fully controlling him, are we not simply raising a venomous snake for the future?"
Xavier brushed his fingertips over a leaf.
"Reed. You always focus too much on immediate loyalty."
He turned his head slightly.
"Tell me. What do you think power is?"
Reed hesitated.
"It is… strength? A tool of control?"
Xavier smiled faintly.
"No."
He rose and walked slowly toward the observation glass, looking down at the public rest area below.
"Power is far more subtle than that."
He paused.
"It is the sweetest poison in the world."
His voice lowered.
"We will let him taste being valued. A little recognition. A few privileges. Some resources no one else can offer him."
His eyes were calm, almost gentle.
"A Hybrid's inferiority is carved into the bones. Even amnesia cannot erase that. So when we become the first people to hand him water in the desert, he will remember it."
Reed remained silent.
Xavier continued.
"Then we let him climb."
His tone was smooth, patient, almost educational.
"He will use the status we give him, the resources we give him, to rise higher and higher. He will meet nobles, touch authority, handle secrets, and stand beneath the admiration of the masses."
Then Xavier turned around.
By the time he truly becomes capable of doing something, he thought, the cage will already be part of him.
"By then," Xavier said aloud, "he will be addicted."
A cold smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"When he finally looks back, he will realize every achievement bears our mark. Every step he took upward was built on the platform we provided. Every person around him may be one of ours."
He moved closer to Reed.
"The foundation beneath his feet will not be a throne. It will be a web."
His voice became calm again.
"At that point, it is not that he will not want to betray us."
He paused.
"It is that he will not dare."
"And he will not be able to."
His expression remained serene, but something vicious flashed in his eyes.
"Falling from a great height is ten thousand times more painful than spending one's life at the bottom of the valley."
Reed bowed deeply.
The doubt in his eyes faded once more, replaced by reverence.
…
The cold white lights of the training hall spilled down evenly from the dome above, stretching Hodell's shadow long across the metal floor.
"Begin."
The instructor's voice was calm, clipped, and mercilessly efficient.
Hodell stepped forward and drove a straight punch toward the man's midsection.
The instructor shifted half a step.
The punch skimmed past empty air.
Hodell immediately twisted at the waist and lashed his left leg upward, aiming for the man's head with a sharp whipping kick.
"Too slow."
The judgment came at the same time as the movement.
Instead of retreating, the instructor advanced. He evaded the kick with minimal motion, then shot his right hand out like lightning and caught Hodell by the wrist.
A slight redirection of force was all it took.
Hodell's balance collapsed instantly, and he lurched forward.
Yet the instructor did not throw him down.
The moment Hodell lost his footing, the man released his wrist and steadied him by the shoulder instead, as if correcting a clumsy student rather than defeating an opponent.
Hodell stumbled back two steps and barely managed to plant his feet.
"Your offensive intent is too obvious," the instructor said. "Your transitions are stiff. And your stamina management is poor."
He spoke like someone reading flaws from a list.
"Next session, focus on force convergence, feint and real strike combinations, and breaking your rhythm before the opponent breaks it for you."
Hodell rubbed his tingling wrist and inhaled deeply.
He still could not quite understand why a magical civilization insisted so heavily on close quarters combat.
Was the mainstream meta on this planet really to learn one basic Light spell and dump every remaining point into melee?
Or maybe the local build logic was even more deranged.
"I'm a mage, really. See this staff?"
Then after one second:
"Waiting online, urgent. How should a mage allocate stat points?"
The answer came instantly in his head.
"Easy. Full HP and Stamina. Then max One Handed Sword, Two Handed Sword, Block, Critical Hit, Charge, Whirlwind, Decapitate, and Armor Penetration. For spells, one Holy Light is enough."
"Thanks, brother."
The more he thought about it, the more it made a ridiculous kind of sense.
Identity was just a layer of disguise, after all.
If an assassin tried to get close and only discovered at that moment that the "mage" in front of him was actually a berserker in a robe, then was that really the mage's fault?
A priest who did not want to become a warrior was not a good mage.
Hodell felt that he was slowly beginning to understand everything.
After all, even Han Xiao in the original had carried that same bizarre flavor.
A Mechanic, yes.
But also very much a muscle based one.
The interface quietly refreshed.
[Instructor [Lv.19] is teaching you Basic Combat.]
[Current progress: 15%.]
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 10–50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[One Piece, Naruto, Bleach, Soul Land, NBA, and more — all in one place.]