Chapter 78

Chapter 78

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 78: From Now On, This Is My Laboratory (1).

Immediately after Cartesia departed, Outer God Safaul trailed behind her. Cartesia had taken residence within the mind of a young boy.

“He seems merely human,” Safaul mused, observing the boy who looked too peaceful to be hosting an Outer God. He was calmly sipping coffee and typing away at his keyboard, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on the screen.

Curious, Safaul peered over the boy’s shoulder and noticed he was engrossed in a thesis. “Reading a thesis here? In this forsaken place marked by madness and desolation?” Safaul scoffed. But his amusement faded as he scanned the titles on the screen:

– On the Similarity Between Quantum Gravity Theory and the Singularity of Ether

– The Possibility of the Existence of Ether Monopoles

– (Review Paper) Latest Research Trends on Manipulation and Repair Methods of the Ether Belt

Each of them bore the single word: “Ether.”

“He’s going to kill us with a Graviton Bomb! I tried to stop it before things escalated!” Safaul remembered Populus’s frantic warning.

Initially, he was skeptical. How could a lesser species grasp concepts like gravity and Ether? Yet, with the exiled Cartesia supporting him, the situation quickly became complex. At the very least, Safaul knew he needed to investigate the boy further.

“What the hell is this?” exclaimed the boy.

Using a technique called Pron, which allowed interference with other dimensions, Safaul interacted with the boy’s computer. The ether concentration was too dense to transform the monitor into a creature but sufficient to force a shutdown.

“No way, my thesis!” Aidel exclaimed, frustration evident as he rebooted the computer and hammered the keys when he realized his data was lost.

Safaul chuckled to himself, floating around in his spectral form. There was a twisted joy in watching the dismay of a lesser being. But then…

“Is it Maxwell’s Legion?” Aidel suddenly looked straight at him, his yellow eyes burning with an intense anger that made Safaul involuntarily recoil.

‘I was frightened… by a lesser being?’ Safaul thought, shaken.

“Safaul,” Aidel said, his voice steady and knowing. “Steel flowing like the earth, that was your alias. I know all your secrets and weaknesses.”

Chills ran down Safaul’s non-corporeal arm.

“When I complete the Graviton Bomb, you’ll be the first to go.”

Hearing this, Safaul retreated into the consciousness of his host, a girl with black hair and black eyes. ‘W-What is happening?’ His non-existent heart pounded. “How can he see me? No… more importantly, how does he know my true legion?” This confirmed his fears. Populus had been right all along. Safaul quickly accessed the prison database to gather information on Aidel von Reinhardt.

‘I’ll have to keep a close watch on him from now on.’

“Damn it.” My mood had soured considerably. Out of nowhere, a Maxwell Outer God source had crashed my system, erasing everything—including the second paper I was diligently working on.

Knock, knock, knock.

“I’ll come in.” The door opened, revealing Guard Weisel accompanied by a middle-aged man with hints of grey in his hair.

“Allow me to introduce Mr. John Whitewood, the warden of our very own Alcatraz.”

I managed a small nod and a polite smile despite my frustration. “Pleased to meet you, Warden.”

“Good day. Are you Aidel von Reinhardt?”

“Uh, yes, that’s me.”

I couldn’t help but wonder why the warden himself would visit me. A wave of unease swept over me as he stepped closer and firmly grasped my hand.

“Student Aidel.”

“Yes, Warden?”

“Congratulations on being cured of your affliction.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Effective immediately, you will be working as an assistant to the prison guard.”

“What?” Just like that, I was no longer just a prisoner in uniform.

John Whitewood, the warden of Alcatraz Prison No. 3, presided over an institution afflicted by chronic administrative stagnation. The grandiose claim that the prison was “The last bastion of human reason controlling madness” misrepresented the truth—it was more a sanctuary for disillusioned middle managers trapped between Outer Gods and bureaucracy. Such an environment invariably wore its inhabitants down, physically and mentally, and Warden John was no exception.

In the midst of this daily struggle, a small miracle occurred. One day, a report that typically arrived late was not only punctual but also meticulously organized. The document was flawless, with clear sentences, precise calculations, and exceptional formatting. Such administrative prowess would have placed him at the level of a senior officer in a civil service or a holder of a Ph.D. in academia.

As the saying goes, a courageous leader attracts capable followers. It didn’t take long for Warden John to uncover the source of this newfound efficiency. His discovery was an administrative prodigy named Aidel.

“Over six weeks have passed without a hint of madness. He’s proven himself. If things continue smoothly, I’ll ensure he’s properly ranked and compensated before his departure.” The decision to not exploit Aidel’s talents without proper reward was straightforward; he was the scion of the influential Reinhardt family, one of the top ten in the Federation. Favor gained now could yield valuable alliances later.

“Excuse me, Warden.”

“Yes, what is it?”

Aidel gestured towards the computer. “The system has become increasingly slow, making document drafting quite cumbersome.”

John considered this. Although the budget was tight, the cost of a single computer was manageable. More importantly, retaining a talent like Aidel justified the expense. “Don’t worry about the costs. Choose whatever you need.”

Unbeknownst to Warden John at the time, this decision would mark the beginning of a significant transformation. His prison was on the brink of becoming something entirely different—a research laboratory.

“Kiya.” He hummed a tune as he swapped his prisoner’s uniform for that of a guard. Prisoner number 888888? No more. From now on, he was Aidel, the assistant warden of this prison. With his new administrative role, he even found time to contemplate writing a thesis. John Whitewood, was he some kind of deity? Regardless, the warden had given him carte blanche to acquire any necessary equipment, so I intended to procure only the best.

“What if they ask you to repay it later?”

Then I’ll repay it with interest.

“That’s completely unfilial.”

“……?” The voice sounded off. It wasn’t Cartesia. Just then, the jingle of a collar echoed. The Outer God he had been conversing with exhaled sharply. Soon after, the voice vanished, replaced by another.

“Sorry. That was my slave speaking just now. Please disregard the unfilial comment.”

The ‘God of Wisdom and Curiosity’ bows her head.

Could it be? Had Cartesia captured Populus and imprisoned it inside my mind? This was madness. He sighed, rubbing his temples. Nonetheless, it was time to set up the computer.

Back on Earth, he had been quite the enthusiast of a brand known as ‘Alienware’. “Ha, this looks promising.” To begin, he needed to enhance his ‘parallel thinking’ capabilities, so four monitors were a must. His next thesis would require a complex simulation, necessitating a high-quality graphics card. The core component, the main unit, would be equipped with a 5th-generation AI-exclusive plug.

“Um.” The price was of no concern. His primary focus was securing the system against hacks from the Outer Gods. Simplifying the issue, the installation of a third-generation Android or better seemed prudent. This wouldn’t entirely block attacks from Outer Gods, but it would enable automatic backups to an external server. The cost of such a comprehensive package was daunting. What was the solution? Often, it lay closer than one might think. He promptly opened his email and began to compose a message.

So, is that why you called me?

The day the computer parts arrived, one by one, and the AI application was installed, I received a thorough scolding from the maid android connected to my computer.

Not only did you spend nearly a hundred million credits on a computer, but you also made the prison warden pay for it out of his own pocket.

“Uh-huh.”

Are you out of your mind?

The Sonia I reunited with after a few weeks was as cold as ever. Fortunately, I wasn’t in her direct line of fire since I was on the computer, but her sharp criticism stung just the same.

Didn’t the warden say anything?

“He said it was okay.” Of course, he had frozen for about two minutes when I showed him the statement, but he eventually nodded with a smile. A genuinely good person.

Why on earth did you spend 100 million on a computer?

“The graphics card was really expensive.”

What on earth are you planning to do with such a GPU… This is unacceptable. May I come over and discipline you myself?

“No. I’m still a prisoner.”

Don’t lie.

Gulp.

According to the analysis based on the data accumulated in my artificial neural network, you are mentally stable enough to be released by now.

{left}“Hmm.” Smart. How did she know? Sonia continued speaking.

Even so, it’s clear you got permission from the warden to buy the computer. He releases you, the young master, and in return, he establishes a connection with the Reinhardt family. Or perhaps he found some utility in you and formed a symbiotic relationship… Isn’t that right?

A sigh echoed over the speaker.

…This is not the time to be idly spending your days there.

Who thinks I want to be here? I half-listened to Sonia’s words while opening my email window. It was about time I shared my new idea with Professor Feynman.

Stop being distracted and listen to me.

“I am listening, just multitasking.”

This is not a conversation that can be had in passing.

Increasing the speaker volume forcibly, Sonia made her point clear.

Miss Rustila is in danger.