C60 — Call to Adventure

A/N: Leo might get his hands on the Divine Filaments earlier than expected.

The human body is a living ecosystem, teeming with trillions of bacteria. Some beneficial, some not. I usually prefer not to dwell on it. It’s unsettling enough knowing they’re there, but ever since I could see them with microscopic clarity, it’s enough to turn even my stomach. Quite the feat, given my obsession with horror in general.

Needless to say, to find myself suddenly thrust into a world of microscopic organisms, forced to witness the minuscule creatures, as integral to my being as my own blood—crawling about on my face…

Writhing like the fucking pit I found the remnants of Zouken in…

It is a profoundly unpleasant experience.

But, there has to be a reason I’m here.

Nothing ever happens in Nasuverse without one.

“Well, I’m here!” Spreading my arms, I call out, dodging to the side as a white blood cell whirls past me. “What do you want?”

A pulsing dread pulls me towards the Cursed Heart, its presence a throbbing echo in my very blood. Triss’s Mystic Code barely holds the insidious influence at bay, while I watch in horror as particles of True Ether, rare as they are, are drawn towards the Heart, devoured by its insatiable hunger.

I know not what consequences this will have on me, but I know one thing: I can’t let this continue.

Unfortunately, my attempts to control or influence the True Ether are met with what feels like an impenetrable wall of resistance, while I am little more than a helpless observer to the Cursed Heart’s ravenous feast.

The numerical values of the barrier containing it is fixed, for the ‘Heart’ of the Enchantment is the knife into which Triss Merigold poured her Magic. It is is finite—absolute… Angra Mainyu is not.

If the Cursed Heart continues to devour and grow, the barrier won’t hold.

Gawking in horror as its power bleeds outward, amplified and strengthened by the stolen True Ether, I clutch at my chest, where the Curses manifest in twisting, black patterns—slithering like worms across my skin. It is difficult to truly capture the sensation in words.

The best comparison I can muster is being pricked by needles, stabbed by blades, and having poison smeared over the open wound afterward.

The pressure in my chest intensifies, the physical ache of the heart-shaped Curses pulsing in sync with a terrifying echo from my Astral Form.

My muscles spasm as millions, if not billions of tiny hands grow and pull me deeper into the bottomless darkness where whispers of primal fear and agony echo in unison.

I thrash, ripping and tearing at the limbs, but for every one I tear away, more sprout in its place, squeezing the air from my lungs.

Just as the darkness rises to my neck, I awake with a gasp, clutching at my chest.

“Shit…”  The squiggly lines of the Curses burn dark against my skin. I try to will them away, but the change is more than superficial. They cling to my melanin, now as much a part of me as any other organ.

Ironically, they don’t seem to impact my abilities or influence [Sin] in any way, except the tiny line of tattoo branching from the Heart to my eye-socket.

They’re just… There… Detailed and disturbing patterns that, wen closely examined, form the optical illusion of the ‘Circles of Hell’.

Unlike Dante’s ‘Divine Comedy’, these layers descend infinitely, becoming so small; so complex that even my eyes can no longer see them.

I scan the room, hoping to spot Gil first, but no such luck. Instead, I notice a homunculus in the corner. While someone else might be sipping tea, watching the news, or reading a book, she just stares at me like a hawk with her piercing ruby-red eyes. “Sir Hangman, you’re awake.”

“Why are still you here?"

“I assisted in the surgery to remove the contamination agent from your bloodstreams and was deemed suitable to care for you by Lady Barthomeloi and Her Majesty Monroe.”

Who the heck is Monroe?

“The blonde, sir? She claimed she’s dear to you.”

“Oh…” She meant Gil… Which is strange. Given her personality, I half-expected her to jump at the opportunity to yell her name loudly, declaring the whole Earth—the Tower included, hers. “That’s disappointing.”

“Disappointing? I thought men enjoyed seeing a beautiful woman after a near-death experience.” The homunculus shifts in her seat, raising her arms in a way that makes her ‘Soul’ move and bounce hypnotically. With a curious tilt of her head, she asks, “Is my appearance not to your liking? I can request for a new Model to—”

“I wasn’t talking about you. Where am I?”

“A secret facility East of London, sir. It is under the ownership of Lady Barthomeloi.”

“Where are they?” I demand, jumping off the bed as naked as a newborn. Facing the homunculus, I notice her swallow a lump before averting her eyes to the floor. “And where are my clothes?”

“They’re… In the drawer, sir.” She says with a hiccup. “Apologies, it seems your Sorcery Trait is affecting me as well.”

“Apology accepted.”

I rush to the drawer and find an outfit neatly folded, thankfully less flashy than what Gil provided earlier.

After getting into my underwear and pants, I glance back at the homunculus. “You’re still here?”

“I was instructed by Lord Einzbern to shadow you 24/7 in case of any adverse reactions with your new Mystic Code. It’s a two-week ordeal, sir.”

“… Just step out so I can get dressed. If you can get me a coffee while you’re at it, that’d be wonderful.”

“Understood, sir. My brain seems to be short-circuiting today.” The homunculus shuffles her feet and turns to me. “Would you like a brown, a cappuccino, or…”

“Black. Just a black coffee, no sugar, no milk. I want it as dark as oil and as bitter as traditional Eastern medicines.”

“Would you like breakfast with that?”

“That’d be nice. Thanks… Uhm, what’s your name?”

“Stella, sir. I’ll be right back with you.”

After a refreshing bath and breakfast, I pick up my phone to find a flood of messages, both from Eri, my financial advisor, and missed calls from John.

“Milord says he’s encountering issues at the production line.”

“Issues?” I reply.

“We need more samples to model the machines for our production line, sir. I’d suggest acquiring designs from various countries.”

“That’s what I’ve been forgetting!” I realize. During my operation on Cyberpunk Earth, I forgot to gather the designs for the production line. If a chip for Iphone requires extreme precision, imagine the sheer complexity needed to create a functional cybernetic. It’s no wonder they didn’t keep

“We can then compile the data to create the most efficient production line.” Eri suggests.

“Yeah… about that.” I respond, scratching the back of my head. 

Going back to the Witcher-verse is too much of a hassle right now, and I can’t just keep plucking people from their world. What would I even say to them?

‘Hey, come live in a universe centuries behind yours technologically and help me rule the planet?’ I scoff at the thought… Although, in hindsight, it might actually work, but at the moment, [Void Bridge] can’t transport anyone, and they definitely did not leave blueprints for their tech just lying around the factories. 

Manuals for repairs, sure, but the actual designs? Those are probably locked away tighter than the recipe for Coke, and no thank you, I’m not in the mood for a treasure hunt.

“Would he accept engineers instead?” I ask, already having a general way to find potential recruits.

Those content with their lives won’t be interested in my offer, so I’ll focus on the overlooked and forgotten—the unfortunate few society has left behind. 

Think Nikola Tesla, a genius who died destitute despite his contributions to the scientific community and the world as a whole. If their own nations fail to recognize their value, I'll offer them a home.

Labor is plentiful, but a brilliant mind is a rare and potent force that can rival the strength of hundreds men.

With that in mind, I contacted my financial advisor. He’s a bit shady, but his loyalty is tied to his profit, and we’re far too entangled for him to risk betrayal.

While I may have met him as Leonis Magnus, I made sure to let slip certain details… Showed my hands to scare him.

He might not have a comprehensive list, but he strikes me as someone who ‘knows a guy.’

Life in the Tower carried on as usual after that. The rumor mill, however, spun a new thread in regard to my relationship with Lorelei.

Apparently, we’re ‘tighter than a nun’s habit.’ There was even gossip that my [Lust Spot] had somehow ensnared the Queen of the Clock Tower—utter nonsense, of course. If the [Love Spot] couldn’t sway her, what chance did mine have?

Still, I’ve learned not to feed the ‘Demons.’

The more attention you give them, the more they grow.

Sometimes it’s best to ignore the whispers and let them fade.

If they resurface, deal with them swiftly and quietly.

Life’s good, though the one problem I had was Gil.

For an entire week, I didn’t so much as catch a glimpse of hee.

The Golden Queen seemed to have vanished off the face of the planet,

Meanwhile Lorelei too kept her distance, likely trying to quell the rumors about us, which was a futile effort really.

Interestingly, midway through the week, I was approached by one of the Directors—Lord Gaiuslink from the Department of Zoology, of all departments. Guess he’d taken notice of the monster carcasses I’d submitted.

He’s actually the only Director I haven’t found any information on; not even a mention of his House in fact.

The reasons, I surmise, is the slow-death Mysteries as a whole are getting. Can you guess which department was hit harder than Botany?

Despite the preservation efforts, the Department’s so-called zoos house only a few Phantasmal Beasts, which have essentially lost their magical properties. They’re now useless for anything other than raw materials and perhaps as exotic pets for those who want to boast about their collections.

I’m not in a position to criticize, given that I’m keeping a Demonic Cat as a pet.

To add to that, the cat managed to board a flight from Fuyuki to London to reach me after the homunculi—Sella and Leysritt, the same duo—arrived in Fuyuki to assist Kiritsugu in protecting his family somehow.

“Lord Gaiuslink…” What a ridiculous name.

Who actually thought to themselves Gaiuslink would be the legacy they want to pass down? Gaius at least is catchy. ‘Gaiuslink, really?’

People keep commenting on my name, but is his not objectively worse?

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“I’m here regarding the… Catches you submitted. I don’t believe I’ve seen such Phantasmal Beasts before. If you can keep supplying us, our Department will be eternally thankful.”

“Right to the meat of the matter, huh? I like that.” Readying my Mystic Code, I blink at the guy. “But you know I can’t do that for free.”

Seeing my standoffishness, the lord nods in a friendly gesture.

“Please do not misunderstand; I’m not trying to strong-arm you into agreeing. My family has served the Barthomeloi for ages, long before Ambrosius was ever in the picture, even if the cocky bastard likes to pretend otherwise. We won’t harm you if it’s Milady’s wish.”

“That did not stop you from showing up in support of the decision half a week ago.”

“I was curious about Milady’s choice. In all honesty, we had thought her line would end with her until you showed up. I wanted to make sure my Liege had picked someone of merit. You held your ground well.” The emotionless Lord admits.

“Well, shoot. What’s your offer?” I demand, entering marketplace mode.

“10K for each of these carcasses.” Is his proposal.

“Only 10? Are you mad?” I respond incredulously.

“For each, sir. And we intend to buy every ware you have, however much you have,” He clarifies. “Zootology has stumbled in recent years, as you may have guessed. Like other departments, we have suffered great losses—”

“More so than anyone,” I interject. “Which makes my ware all the more valuable to you.”

 

“Although our many businesses in the world of man are doing well, we cannot waste too much on the plebs. What you gave us, while unique, were too low on the totem pole to fetch a high price.”

My mistake with the Bakersfield still hot in mind, I yell a sky-high price. “50,000, and I’ll get you even more creatures. New creatures. Some will be weak and of low-quality, others might just be what your Department needs to rise up.”

There are so many other Beasts in the Witcher I have not encountered, plus with Ciri’s powers, I’ll have a whole Universe of creatures at my beck and call, and as the sole monopolizer of the industry, there really isn’t much Gaiuslink could do but try to negotiate down.

“15K is enough. Even Greed knows its limits.”

“40K. It’ll take up a lot of my time to hunt and kill these.”

“20K. They really have no value in your hands, so why not do us a favor.”

“35K… I’ll not go lower.”

Gritting his teeth, the Lord sighs. “30K is the limit of my capacity, sir. Any more and the research will not be worth the cost.”

I want to push him further—I know I can.

He’s at my mercy, but I can’t afford to sow dissension among Lorelei’s ranks. She might like me to some extent, but I doubt she likes me so much as to abandon and isolate a Great House in her camp for my sake.

I need to handle this tactfully, but still maximize profit.

“25K for the whole carcass,” I propose. “We’ll break down the separate body parts depending on the beast later.”

“… That’s lower than the number I gave.” Gaiuslink points out.

“I know. I’m offering it at a discount price. Consider it a favor to my lady-wife. I can’t rob her vassals out of a house and home, but under one condition.”

“Speak your terms.”

“I’ll sell to you at this rate for a decade, but afterward, there’ll be a 3% increase to account for inflation.”

“Call it 15 and we have a deal.” The Great Lord counters, offering me his hand.

“26K for the extra 5 years.”

“Deal!” He shouts, and we hastily shake on it.

“Is it possible to get a live Beast?” He inquires.

“Not at the moment, but I’ll work on it.” I assure him.

Silence falls between us as the Great Lord stares at me. “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” I reply cheekily.

Ignoring my remark, Gaiuslink leans in and whispers, “Are the carcasses you have a result of your Sorcery Traits? We managed to pin down the functions of a few, but 13 Traits have not been registered anywhere. Did you… Did you raise these Beasts for harvest?”

“No… No, I didn’t.” I respond. “I just know a place where these are still in abundance.”

“A natural preservation? Is it in the Amazon Forest? Even our agents dare not enter Gaia’s territory.”

“No, they are from a distant land, far away. I’m curious, what can stop a bunch of determined Magi?”

Skin tone suddenly going a shade paler, the Great Lord hums.

“Pocket-Dimensions, sir. Although the Phantasmal Beasts have retreated to the Reverse Side, many remain trapped within the earth crust while evacuating thousands years ago. While these Beasts have gotten weaker, so have we.”

“Is there currently exploration down there?” Pockets of Phantasmal Beasts? Now that sounds like something I will be interested in. furthermore, as a sort-of conspiracy theorist, I still recall all the rumors about a supposedly holy land, nearly untouched by human hands. I never had the courage nor the resources to explore it, but now…

“We currently have archaeologists and zoologists stationed nearby,” Gaiuslink explains. “We explore the cave system, while Meluastea’s men search for mineral mines and lost historical sites. Are you interested, sir?”

“I might be,” I reply thoughtfully. “What will it take to join a team?”

“I can arrange you a spot in the next exploration.” He offers. “Ours is not a popular Department. Most Enforcers prefer more guaranteed and straightforward work. With you around, I believe we’ll much further.”

“Is it that dangerous?” I ask, intrigued.

“Horrifically mutated animals that have adapted to the darkness of the caving system, hibernating Phantasmal Beasts… They’re ranked lower on our scale, but still… You tell me.”

Oh, mamma mia…

The mere thought shivers my timbers.

“When’s the next deep exploration?”

“Six months, sir. Will you attend?” Whirling left and right, as though afraid someone will eavesdrop on our conversation, he asks.

“I will try to make time.”

Summoning the Bestiary copied from the Witcher-Verse by yours truly, I push the small handbook in his pocket.

“In there contains all the information I have regarding the Beasts I’ve submitted,” I say, handing over a discreet folder. “It might be of help to you… Just try to keep the fact that I’ll be attending a secret.”

The last thing I need is Lorelei’s disgruntled followers finding out and stirring up trouble. In the Tower, Lorelei’s reputation will deter all the troublemakers, but it's practically the Wild West out there for Supernatural.

Flipping through the pages, Gaiuslink allows a shit-eating grin as wretched as mine to sprout. “Oh, I think this will be the start to a wonderful partnership.”

“I think so too, buddy. I think so too. Would you like a drink? First one on me.”

Never let it be said the Magi don’t know how to party.

Their entertainment floor was a sight to behold: Every food imaginable—from the healthy to the greasy; unhealthy shit to beverages banned in several countries, and a soundtrack straight out of the 80s.

It's quite tasteful.

Gaiuslink chuckles, waving a hand dismissively. “Please, it’ll be my treat! I’ve been eager to talk to Milady’s consort. It’ll be a learning experience.”

We stumble towards the elevator, giggling like fools while other Magi shoot us bewildered looks.