episode_0188

9:30 AM, somewhere on the outskirts of the Western and Central Districts.

The Witch’s Hammer operation unfortunately concluded at the last moment, but the Violets perked up and returned to the operation.

There was still a lot to do.

First, the girls had a brief interrogation with the enemies. Under the sewers, in dark warehouses, and beneath unfinished buildings, the Violets actively used various non-verbal expressions to continue their unfinished conversations.

“Answer me! Lightning Strike!” “Aaaaah!”

The main targets were clan members from various backgrounds, abducted from the facility. Originally, they should have been handed directly to the Inspection Bureau, but after seeing the experimented girl, she had many questions she wanted to ask.

“Ugh… ugh…! I don’t know who you are, but do you know who *I* am? I won’t let you get away with this!” “Hmm, who is this one? We’re asking because we don’t know, but he’s not answering…” “There’s always a way. Let’s use water magic!” “No! Mmph! Mmph!”

Saying that, Number 1679 pushed a man in a suit into a bathtub. Bubbles churned on the water’s surface.

Meanwhile, at the withdrawal point, a group of Violets busily carried out new tasks. With a line of prisoners sitting in the outskirts of the factory district, the investigation proceeded.

Number 678 gripped the suited man’s face and examined it from various angles. “Please save me…!” “Let’s see… Hmm, you’re not him! Stay!”

The Violets compared each face of the people lined up with previous data, confirming their identities. “James Johnson? Right? You can go outside.” “Yes! That’s me! Thank you!”

The Violets released those called out and led them outside the door. As the unbound people walked out in a line, guided, those remaining wept or hung their heads low.

“No! Save me! Mmph! Mmph!” A gag was placed in the mouth of the wailing researcher. As everyone sensed their impending death and despaired, a strange sight caught the eye of one prisoner.

‘What’s that?’ The man saw the black-clad terrorists moving something large and heavy outside. He imagined it would feel similar to enlarging a huge gun into a cannon.

A Violet came out and set up a heavy machine gun. The eyes of the people standing idly outside shook as if an earthquake had struck. What they faced was the ominous, black muzzle of the machine gun.

“W-what’s that?” “You said you’d let us go!”

As the people panicked, Number 1202 tilted her head. “When did we say that? Number 676. Did you say anything?” “No, I didn’t. They must have misunderstood. Fire!” “No—” -Bang! Bang bang! A roaring sound, closer to factory machinery than gunshots, echoed, and a mist of blood erupted. Inside, people cowered and trembled at the inexplicable explosions.

“Clear it quickly! Set it on fire and clear the debris!” “Cleaning start!”

Meanwhile, the Violets carried dustpans, brooms, oil cans, and plastic bags, cleaning up the debris. “Cleaning complete!” One female prisoner fainted at the sight of the red debris in the plastic bags. “Ugh, ugh…” “Oh? Why is she like that?” Afterward, the Violets were puzzled by the prisoners, whose resistance had significantly decreased.

As I felt during the battle in Vittorio Dungeon, war doesn’t end just by happily committing destruction and smashing things. Post-processing was always important.

In that sense, managing prisoners was crucial. After mostly dealing with almost everyone on the hit list, those who were ambiguous to kill were captured and imprisoned. There was also a need for interrogation, and some of those who couldn’t be dealt with might have been mixed among them.

“This will be the temporary prisoner-of-war camp from now on! You’ll have to live here for a while. Understood?” -Clang! “Let me go!” I slammed the door shut. The silent abandoned mine was now filled with shouts, screams, and weeping.

“Good thing we built a prisoner-of-war camp!” The Violets smiled contentedly, looking at the place they called a “prisoner-of-war camp” but was actually an abandoned mine. This place would now be under 25-hour surveillance by Violet prisoners.

“We’ve captured them, but what now?” However, immediately after capturing the prisoners, we fell into a dilemma. How should we deal with these guys?

“We can’t kill them, but we don’t want to release them either.” “Many of them have security spells embedded, so we can’t even interrogate them, let alone ask anything. We might be able to remove those later, but…”

A discussion among 1,800 Violets. The opinion that received the most support was this: “Let’s hand them over to the Inspection Bureau and the Federation. They’ll deal with them however they see fit, whether it’s trials or releases.”

Number 894, who was listening, retorted. “No! These are Magnavis’s specialized personnel. The Inspection Bureau is fine, but if the Federation takes them over, they might make them do strange things. Did you forget that the Federation is also a bunch of weirdos?”

Hearing Number 894’s opinion, the Violets couldn’t shake off their uneasy feeling. The Four Great Clans were indeed trash, but the Federation was no less problematic.

“If clan technology falls into the Federation’s hands, who knows what might happen.” “We can’t avoid that anyway! We didn’t loot all the databases and technicians. It’s inevitable that other clans nearby will intervene.”

Number 825 shouted. “Ugh! You idiots! Did you forget? The Federation is cooperating with the Obsidian Legion!”

Number 1 nodded at Number 825’s words. “I agree from a different angle too! Of course, I’m not worried about the future being twisted. Our very existence is a variable, and Magnavis already collapsed before the main story scenario, didn’t it? There’s no need to be surprised by whatever happens afterward. However…”

Instead of finishing her sentence, Number 1 conjured an image within the Violet network. Strengenix forces with the Federation mark and Obsidian Legion Vanguard units appeared. Seeing that, we got goosebumps.

Perhaps the Federation might gather orphans and create a pseudo-Polaris network, just like the Chairman did. Outside the island, the continent is overflowing with people who have neither homes nor parents.

“Then what should we do?” As the discussion on the first opinion deepened, the Violets proposed another plan. “Let’s implement the second plan!” “You mean building a research lab and a weapon factory?”

We had previously discussed what to do with the gains after destroying the Magnavis clan. Giving away such technologies for free would make us look like fools.

In that case, it would be good to maximize the use of the technology and personnel obtained from them to create equipment for me and my friends. We could even sell it, right? And regarding personnel, there were suitable people nearby.

“How about putting Mister-nim Yurik or Professor Albert in charge of the research lab?” “That’s a perfect fit!” I wonder what the unemployed Mister-nim, who was doing postdoctoral research, would say if he was offered the position of research lab director.

Opinions poured out one by one, filling the gaps in ideas like puzzle pieces.

“Let’s put Ennis as Deputy Director and Head Slave. We’ll pay the Auntie-nim a minuscule salary.” “That’s good too. The rest under the Head Slave are just slaves! Let’s make them serve unpaid.”

What if I were to establish a research lab and a secret weapon factory? The Magnavis prisoners would work 10 hours a day, every day except one weekend day, serving to strengthen the Violet military power.

“Oh? Wait a moment. Let’s exclude the Auntie-nim. She said she’d testify later, didn’t she? Let’s observe the situation after she surrenders.” “Then for now, we’ll just list her name. Who else would be good as a Head Slave to control the other slaves?”

We concluded the discussion. The prisoners in the abandoned mine would work for the Violets in the future.

Of course, not everyone would get the chance to work in Violet’s factories and research labs. Truly bad guys would be sent to courts or hearings for public shaming.

Even in the chaotic world of Crimson Scholar, superficial ethics and laws are ostensibly upheld. The person who inserted electrodes into children’s heads and installed a massive facility beneath the academy would surely receive the death penalty.

What if they mobilized a legion of lawyers or used tricks like courtesy appointments to escape? Then the Violets would become the judges and prosecutors, and they would indict. “Sentencing with bullets!”

Of course, for the worst of the worst, there would be no trial or anything. These guys don’t have human rights!

Thinking that, I walked out of the abandoned mine and headed towards the waiting car. Inside, a malicious war criminal awaited execution.

“Wake up! Doctor!” I poured water over Doctor Sturges’s head. The sleeping doctor struggled to open his eyes.

The Violets released Doctor Sturges and began their questions. Unfortunately, the Violets’ efforts met with an obstacle from the outset.

“It seems you have many questions, but unfortunately, it will be difficult.” Doctor Sturges chuckled and pointed behind his back. When his clothes were removed, a clear magic circle was engraved there.

“It’s a confidential security spell!” The Violet frowned. They had intended to interrogate him, assuming the chief executive wouldn’t have such a thing, but things had gotten complicated.

“Just kill me quickly. I have nothing more to say. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I can never speak about the research contents. Indirect questions, even hints, are meaningless. So, what will you do?”

The Violet was dumbfounded by the Chairman’s behavior of embedding instant-death spells even on important individuals. “Tch, are you happy having that embedded? Working under someone who implants such things on the back of their chief executive. What a foolish fellow.”

Sturges maintained his usual stubborn expression and retorted. “Don’t misunderstand. I personally requested it from the Grand Sorcerer-nim. I have no intention of sharing even a single drop of this valuable knowledge I’ve observed and researched with anyone else.”

“Knowledge created by sacrificing people, you mean?” As the Violet retorted, a shadow fell across the doctor’s face.

“I regret it. I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. But progress inherently requires sacrifice. Even for medicines that save human lives, countless animals are sacrificed for safety testing. Do you not feel sorry for the rats and rabbits?” The doctor spoke dismissively. From his cold attitude, the Violet suddenly remembered the girl who was suffering and looking for her mother.

“You say that, knowing what you know? What’s all this about progress? Humans aren’t animals! Don’t you, a learned person, know even that?” As the Violet raged like fire, the doctor was speechless. For a moment, shame flickered across his face. But only for a moment, then Doctor Sturges responded with a resolute expression.

“Of course, they’re not animals. But people have classifications. There are those who can be used and those who cannot. I merely consumed those who fit the appropriate classification. It was a necessary task!”

Number 1655 grabbed him by the collar in a rage. “You Unit 731-like bastard!” Other Violets rushed out as well. Perhaps due to their anger, they weren’t wearing their masks. Pulled out by the suddenly appearing clone girls, the doctor was bewildered.

“I’ll execute you!” “Let’s tear him to shreds!” “Die, Mengele! Die, Shiro!”

The doctor was instantly dragged out of the car and tumbled onto the dirt ground. Just as he resigned himself to death under the ominous glares of the armed Violets, one Violet hastily appeared with a tablet. The girls all clicked their tongues briefly and stepped back.

“You get a few more minutes to live. Your old student said he had some last words. Consider yourself lucky!” The Violet tapped the tablet as if to show it. Beyond the dark screen, a man’s voice was heard.

-Professor! I’ve seen everything! Why did you do this? You weren’t like this! The man’s tone was laced with anger and regret. Doctor Sturges scoffed and replied.

“Ah… surely, by the sound of your voice, it’s familiar… Could it be, Yurik? I wondered why you didn’t show up after the first day of orientation. It seems you’ve been working with these rascals. As I said before, I have no intention of speaking. I can’t speak even if I wanted to.” “…If you’re thinking of using an old student to indirectly pry, you’d best stop.”

-I have no such intention! I know everything! The modulation of aetheric wavelengths through the Vision Prism and particle accelerators, brain interference and connection, aetheric synchronization and activation through large-scale spell deployment, and the formation and concentration of collective intelligence!

“Hmm, I clearly said I can’t answer…” -It’s obvious, isn’t it? Increasing the range and precision of aether manipulation through the concentration of collective intelligence! It must be a means to improve magical calculation power. But is that really so necessary? Is it something you have to do even by killing people? “…”

Behind the monitor, Yurik’s voice rose, as if he was choked with emotion. -Professor, I know you personally looked into and helped me with grants and scholarships when I couldn’t afford to study, and you accommodated me. It wasn’t just me. How many students and people have you helped, Professor? You always actively stepped forward and helped when something was needed. So why… why did a person like you participate in such a mad act?

Beyond the monitor, Yurik’s voice rose with anger. -Professor, when I was struggling financially, you personally found and helped me apply for relevant scholarships and grants so I wouldn’t give up my studies. It wasn’t just me. I don’t know how many students received your help. When adjusting class schedules and research projects, students were always your priority. You always stepped forward to help when students sought assistance. Why did a professor like you get involved in such a mad act? How could someone who dedicated their entire life to academic and knowledge pursuit be involved in such a crazy thing?!

“…Someone had to do it.” -Are you really the professor I knew? What are you? I saw everything. Do you even know how many people died for that atrocious act?

As the Violet and the professor remained silent, Yurik cried out, choked with emotion. -Shall I tell you something even more absurd? I don’t know what Valefor tempted you with to participate, but everything you did, abandoning your humanity, was in vain. By sheer coincidence, that project has already succeeded. Someone else did!

The old student, rambling erratically swayed by emotion, threw out a sudden remark. The doctor asked, bewildered. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

-You don’t know. I don’t know your ultimate goal for doing this, but a result that almost perfectly aligns with the intent of your research is right in front of you. In front of you, Professor…! A long sigh was heard through the speaker, and then the connection abruptly cut off. The Violets all drew their swords simultaneously.

‘What did that mean just now? ‘Closest place’?’ Befuddled, Doctor Sturges pondered his student’s last words and scrutinized the girls.

Now that he looked, they were girls who looked exactly alike. At first, he thought they were twins, or perhaps clones or users of doppelganger abilities. However, on closer inspection, their actions were somewhat strange. Girls who said nothing unless necessary. Yet, their collective action ability was as uniform as a machine. It must be assumed they had some kind of communication method. Amidst the unknown questions, Sturges slowly opened his mouth. He couldn’t understand why he was asking questions.

“…Should we kill him with a knife?” “Let’s execute him by dismemberment!” “Hey, you girls. Are you Awakened ones?”

For a brief moment, the girls looked around at each other. The professor’s gaze did not miss the Violets’ movements. “Yeah, we are.” Sturges continued to question, as if possessed by something. “Then, are you singular or plural?” The Violets looked back at him, not understanding the intent of the question. One girl replied. “Plural? Yes, we will get revenge!”

‘We?’ Feeling uneasy, Sturges mulled over the word the Violet uttered. The Violet seized him by both shoulders and dragged him somewhere.

Doctor Sturges felt a shock like lightning striking his head. It was like an amateur inventor rushing to patent a meticulously crafted invention, only to find that a patent for the same name and design had already been registered. It resembled the feeling of an artist whose life’s work was immediately branded as plagiarism upon its release. The doctor questioned it, saying it couldn’t be. Yurik must have just blurted out nonsense in anger. But a memory in the corner of his mind countered: a student named Yurik Pereira was not one to make careless remarks.

As he was being escorted to the execution stand, the doctor thought, calculated, and deduced. His theories, designs, and hypotheses clashed with the possibilities of reality, sparking a realization. A possibility he desperately wanted to deny but simply couldn’t refute emerged.

Before the Violet raised her sword, he felt fear at the unknown uncertainty he was facing and laboriously asked what might be his last question. “Just one more question, you. Are you not merely doppelgangers, but a hive mind? Are you communicating telepathically?”

The Violets were all startled. “Gasp! How did he know?” “We have to kill him quickly!”

The moment he saw their affirmation, he felt an inescapable despair. His life, his research. A violent plan, akin to human sacrifice. The possibility for humanity’s salvation. Sacrifice and success, war. His honor, research ethics and morals. ‘What have I done? What was my excuse for?’

In the endless bleakness that brutally swallowed his life’s research and self-justification, Doctor Sturges impulsively pulled the trigger. The method was simple. All he had to do was attempt to utter a single keyword related to his research.

“Beyond the dimension—” Before the words were even finished, the white-haired old man foamed at the mouth and convulsed. The startled Violets realized what was happening. “Aaaah! He’s committing suicide! Stop him!” “What? Why is he suddenly dying on his own?”

Doctor Sturges’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the floor. As he writhed in agony, beyond his fading life, the identical girls came into view. In his darkening consciousness, Sturges muttered to himself. He was a vulgar failure.