"This," Hel said, holding a small tray, "is the communication device for our organization."
On the tray rested a sliver of mithril, no bigger than a grain of rice.
"How exactly do we use it?"
Witt—who had just returned again—looked completely puzzled. The thing didn't look like any alchemical device he had ever seen.
"This needs to be implanted under the skin of the occipital cortex, right beneath the back of the head. You can activate it with your mental power.
Once activated, it performs a soul-binding process—meaning only the bound user can operate it. No one else can.
So, how about it? Want to try?"
"Of course. What do I need to do?"
"Just lie down. It's a minor procedure."
Hel gestured for Witt to lie face-down on the nearby sofa. Then, with a small surgical blade, she made a neat incision at the back of his head.
Guiding the tiny mithril chip with her mental power, she slipped it into the cut, embedding it against the base of his skull.
Her left hand glowed faintly.
[Intermediate Life Spell: Rapid Healing]
Within moments, the wound at Witt's nape had scabbed over and closed completely. Even the severed hair grew back as if nothing had happened.
"Alright, try it out," Hel said. "It works like a spatial ring—just connect with it using your mental power."
"So it requires spiritual energy, then? That means only transcendent members can use it."
"Don't worry about that," Hel replied. "If you still want to recruit some ordinary humans as informants, I've also prepared short-range message scrolls and magical earrings that allow real-time communication."
"Hah, as expected of you, Young Master. Your alchemy surpasses even those old fossils in the guild."
"Alright, enough with the praise," Hel said, rolling her eyes slightly. "Go on, test it. It's just a theoretical design so far—no one's tried it before. I'm not entirely sure how well it works."
That last sentence made Witt's eyelids twitch.
Yes, his young master's alchemy was absurdly powerful—but at the end of the day, he was still a child. And children sometimes… improvised.
Still, Witt was a man of great skill and courage. He wasn't too worried about a small implanted device.
Even if something went wrong, he was confident he could expel it immediately.
Moments later, however, his eyes widened in astonishment.
"This… this is incredible! I've entered some kind of strange space. Could this be the legendary Soul Network?"
"That's the immersion mode," Hel explained casually. "You can also switch to the normal chat mode. That way, you can transmit information during your everyday activities.
The interface in front of you lets you send not just text but also what you see and hear—and even your memories.
Of course, that's just the basic functionality.
I've been considering developing it further—maybe even enabling soul transmission.
That way, even if you're killed, your soul could instantly escape through the network.
As long as your soul survives, your body's no problem—I can always make you a new one."
Hel shrugged lightly. "But that part's not ready yet. The data terminal that receives souls isn't finished. Give me a week or so, and it should be."
Witt stood there speechless, feeling that today had already exceeded his daily shock quota.
Implanted alchemical devices, soul networks, soul transmission—these were concepts he had never heard of, even within the Skoll School, one of the continent's greatest centers of alchemy.
And yet, a boy barely into his teens had made them real.
Using souls in alchemy was a mystery even the masters of the Skoll School had failed to unravel.
Yes—following his young master had been the best decision he'd ever made.
While Witt was still silently marveling, Hel continued, "This is the Soul Network Repeater. You just toss it on the ground—it'll automatically burrow about ten meters underground and enter standby."
She handed him a dull, grayish bead.
"Place one every hundred kilometers or so. But to avoid the entire network collapsing if a single repeater is destroyed, follow the placement points I marked on this map."
"Now that communication is covered, let's move on to detection tools.
This—" she picked up a mask, "—is a Disguise Mask. It lets you change your appearance at will.
This cloak—The Phantom Shroud—can conceal your aura.
I've already given you all aura-suppression skills, so you might not need that part, but the cloak also grants short-term invisibility.
And this," she said, holding up a small jar, "is a Necrotic Fruit Fly, used for intelligence-gathering."
"...Necrotic?"
Witt raised an eyebrow. Given the other tools Hel had shown him, he was already beginning to suspect that she was a necromancer.
But after a brief flash of surprise, he calmed quickly.
He wasn't like the conservative old mages of the guild—he was young, curious, and practical.
Even necromancy had its merits.
"Though it's called a Necrotic Fruit Fly," Hel explained, summoning one to land on his hand, "it's not truly undead.
It's a fusion of necromantic and alchemical technology.
After that, I used life magic to restore part of its vitality—so it exists in an uncertain state, neither alive nor dead.
You can think of it as… Schrödinger's Fly."
"Schrödinger's… fly?"
"Er, never mind the name. The principle's close enough.
Anyway, you can connect to it directly through your implanted chip and see what it sees.
Production is limited, though—I've only prepared a thousand for now. Use them sparingly."
"You've already made a thousand? So fast?"
"Yeah. The hard part was finding suitable flies for modification. Once the ones I've altered start breeding in large numbers, the output will rise drastically."
"No, Young Master," Witt said firmly. "This is already more than enough."
He spoke with unusual seriousness.
To reassure Hel and to make sure she remained in full control of the intelligence organization, he needed her direct involvement.
But he also didn't want her to waste too much time crafting these devices when she could be cultivating instead.
In his mind, their job was to handle these trivial matters—the young master's only duty was to grow stronger and ascend to the Saint rank.
"Alright," Hel said, waving dismissively. "That's all for now. When you have time, distribute these items as soon as possible.
Oh, and about the chips—have everyone come to me for implantation personally. That's safer."
"Understood, Young Master."
Witt nodded and began packing up the items.
But just as he reached the door, he paused and turned back.
"By the way, Young Master—did you read the intelligence report I brought from Selevius City? There's one piece of information I think is rather important."