The basement of the Soul Research Club.
The air was thick with the smell of char—the distinct ozone scent of burnt mana circuits mixed with the smell of socks that hadn't been washed in days and the aroma of roasted meat Tia had just delivered.
“No! It’s still not working!”
Horn clutched his hair, which was as messy as a bird's nest, and slumped over the workbench, his face pressed against a blueprint that had been modified beyond recognition.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his thick glasses had slid to the tip of his nose, but he didn't even have the time to push them back up.
“The backflow pressure is too high.”
Horn pointed to the complex rune array at the core of the blueprint, his voice hoarse as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.
“Once the booster pump starts, the aftershocks from the soul vibration will instantly flood back.”
“Ordinary Mithril pipes simply can't withstand this kind of high-frequency impact.”
“Unless...”
Horn swallowed hard, his eyes filled with a touch of despair.
“Unless we can find a one-way valve that only allows output and no input.”
“But that’s impossible in magic theory. Energy always flows in both directions; that’s common sense...”
Bell sat on a mountain of discarded parts, playing with a scrapped crystal core in his hand.
When he heard the words “common sense,” he smiled.
It was a somewhat contemptuous smile.
“Common sense?”
Bell jumped down from the pile of parts and walked to the workbench.
He picked up the quill, which was nearly out of ink, and drew a simple symbol at the location of the bottleneck on the blueprint.
A triangle with a vertical line at its tip.
“This is called a diode.”
Bell’s voice was soft, yet it struck Horn’s head like a hammer.
Horn froze.
He stared at the strange symbol, his brow furrowed deeply.
“Di... what?”
“What kind of rune is this? Ancient Elvish? Or Draconic?”
“Don't worry about what it’s called.”
Bell tapped the symbol with the tip of the pen.
“Just think of it as a special door.”
“We use two sets of opposing wind runes to create a high-pressure cyclone at this position.”
“When energy flows with the stream, the cyclone will be pushed open.”
“But when the energy tries to flow back...”
Bell’s fingers suddenly clenched.
“The cyclone will instantly close, forming a dead wall.”
Horn’s mouth slowly fell open.
It was counterintuitive.
It violated the magical principles he had studied for over a decade.
But he frantically ran the calculations in his mind.
If the repulsion parameters of the wind runes were adjusted to a critical value...
If that return valve was added...
Clatter.
The quill slipped from Horn’s hand and rolled onto the floor.
He snapped his head up, looking at Bell with an expression as if he were looking at a god wearing human skin.
“Genius...”
Horn’s lips trembled, and his entire body was shaking.
“This is practically... cheating.”
“How did you think of this?”
“To actually use wind to ‘block’ mana...”
Bell shrugged and didn't explain.
In his previous life, this was just the principle of a rectifier bridge from a high school physics textbook.
But in a world of magic, this was a dimensional strike.
“Stop wasting time.”
Bell patted Horn on the shoulder.
“Get to modifying.”
“If you can't get this rectification array done tonight, you don't get to eat.”
Horn was like he had been injected with a stimulant.
The exhaustion vanished instantly.
He picked up the pen and lunged at the blueprint like a madman, muttering under his breath.
“Diode... diode... hehe...”
“This is it. It’s definitely going to work now.”
“It’s really going to work.”
...
Three in the morning.
Tia walked down with a plate of sliced fruit.
Wearing her strawberry apron, she looked out of place among the scrap metal, yet strangely harmonious.
“Take a break.”
Tia placed the plate on the only clean corner of the table.
Bell took a piece of apple and took a bite.
Sweet and crisp.
He glanced at Horn, who was still tinkering in the corner.
This guy had been working for forty consecutive hours. Except for bathroom breaks, his butt hadn't left that stool.
“Horn.”
Bell called out.
“Come over and eat something.”
Horn didn't move.
His back was to Bell, and he was holding a precision carving knife, working on a piece of mana crystal only the size of a fingernail.
His hand was steady.
Steadier than any socially anxious person should be.
“Bell.”
Horn suddenly spoke.
His voice was very low, carrying a strange calmness.
“What is it?”
Bell frowned.
Horn turned around.
He held the freshly carved mana crystal in his hand.
The crystal was covered in dense lines thinner than a strand of hair.
But it wasn't any physical structure Bell had taught him.
It was a kind of... garbled code.
Irregular, like a child’s random scribbles.
“You said before that we needed to add a filter.”
Horn pushed up his glasses, the lenses reflecting the light so his eyes couldn't be seen.
“I thought about it for a long time.”
“Physical filtering is too slow.”
“And souls don't have a fixed form.”
“They’re like water, like mist, or more like...”
Horn paused and grinned.
“Emotions.”
Bell put down the apple in his hand.
He felt it.
That tiny mana crystal was emitting a fluctuation that made his scalp tingle.
“I tried to extract the frequency of fear.”
Horn held the mana crystal up against the light.
“As long as we embed this into the core.”
“What this cannon fires will no longer be a simple shockwave.”
“It will be...”
Horn licked his lips, that familiar hunger flickering in his eyes.
“Nightmares.”
“It will directly trigger the greatest fear deep within the target’s soul.”
“And then use that fear to detonate them from the inside.”
Bell was stunned.
He looked at the tech geek who was smiling with such innocent joy.
It was like watching a monkey casually type out a line of Shakespearean poetry.
This wasn't magic at all.
Nor was it science.
It was pure instinct.
It was a forbidden zone of the gods that Horn had groped his way into using the instincts he gained after devouring thousands of souls.
“You...”
Bell opened his mouth.
He wanted to say this was too dangerous.
He wanted to say it might spiral out of control.
But looking at Horn’s shining eyes.
Those eyes that had finally found a kindred spirit, finally found value.
Bell smiled.
He walked over and took the mana crystal from Horn’s hand.
He held it before his eyes to examine it closely.
“Emotional detonation?”
Bell tossed the mana crystal up and caught it.
“Interesting.”
“Even more ruthless than I imagined.”
Horn shrank his neck, returning to his submissive self.
“Is it... too cruel?”
“Am I being abnormal again?”
“No.”
Bell stuffed the mana crystal back into Horn’s hand.
He gave him a firm pat on the back.
“This is great.”
“Horn.”
“You really are a genius.”
Horn was dazed.
From childhood until now.
This was the first time anyone had called his ‘sickness’ a sign of genius.
His eyes suddenly turned red.
He sniffled, holding back the urge to cry.
“Of course.”
Horn puffed out his chest, though he was still a bit hunched.
“After all, you’re a good teacher.”
“Alright, stop the mutual flattery.”
Bell pointed to the fruit on the table.
“Eat up and get back to work.”
“The Academy Festival is tomorrow.”
“I want those bastards in the Disciplinary Committee...”
“...to see what a dimensional strike looks like.”
Horn nodded vigorously.
He grabbed a piece of apple and stuffed it into his mouth, crunching loudly.
That fierce determination.
It was as if he were chewing up all the prejudice in this world.
Rate on N.U.
