Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

"Even if that's all, it's alright. Brain infections are much more insidious than external infections. As long as she learns to hide and control them, her normal life will be largely unaffected. But the problem lies with her second soul. If I'm not mistaken, the one who spoke to us just now and showed hostility towards us shouldn't be the usual 'Fiona,' right?"

Kal'tsit wouldn't miss a single detail in her field of vision. From the moment Fiona displayed her unusual behavior, she noticed the astonishment on Hammer's face and the contemplation on Wayne's. Combining this with the report she was now seeing, she could easily draw this conclusion.

Fiona is indeed a timid but adorable child in normal times, but the person she just saw was not the real "Fiona".

Wayne nodded slightly, agreeing with Kal'tsit's statement.

Kal'tsit paused for a moment, then suddenly said:

“Your Highness Wayne, you know about the Consciousness Empire, right?”

“I know.” Wayne not only knew, but he had also been rewatching the game for several days.

"Then you should know that we will have an image in the Empire of Consciousness. For example, my image will probably be Felin, and your image will be Aslan (the lion)."

No, my image is that of a high-dimensional, terrifying upright ape.

Thinking this to himself, Wayne still replied aloud, "Yes, so what?"

"What if a person's soul is not singular? What would her projection in the Empire of Consciousness look like?"

Wayne paused for a moment, then he understood what Kal'tsit meant.

A soul stitched together, a body prison crammed with souls—what form will Fiona take within the Empire of Consciousness?

A chaotic ball of light? A mountain of corpses pieced together?

Or perhaps, given that she is a combination of souls from different races, ages, and appearances, she will become a "hybrid"? Or perhaps...

Wayne really didn't want to say that word, but the thought did cross his mind.

One [Chimera].

However, in Wayne's memory, the only chimera she knew was Amiya. If Wayne hadn't transmigrated, she would have inherited Theresa's legacy in the future, preserving Theresa's soul and becoming the only alien king of the demon race! She didn't suffer from a disease like Fiona.

Why is that?

Because of the ring.

Wayne himself provided the answer. Amiya, or rather Theresa, while also bearing the souls and memories of past Sarkaz Demon Lords and able to use their powers in battle, had their powers bound within the rings, only appearing when the seals were broken, not directly within her consciousness. Therefore, Theresa would be the true Sarkaz, while Amiya, forced to bear Theresa's soul due to a crisis where there wasn't enough time to seal her power back into the rings, became the [Chimera].

Fiona, on the other hand, doesn't have the Sarkaz legacy ring... no, she does have a ring!

Theresa's ring was on her hand, while Fiona's, and all the other experimental subjects' rings, were "in their brains." Those shackles implanted in the brainstem, binding countless souls! Those were their rings.

Loken Water Tank Laboratory, and Columbia behind them, have ambitions that go far beyond simply creating a group of war sorcerers. They are attempting to create artificial chimeras, and even creatures like the Demon King.

Wayne should have realized this long ago. Columbia, which aspires to become a true superpower on the land and even challenge Victoria's dominance, could not possibly be limited to merely mass-producing war mages who are only a core fighting force. Their ambitions are much greater than that; they aim to replicate the absolute cutting-edge fighting force on this land!

It's hard to imagine what would happen if they succeeded.

They almost succeeded. The operator Rosemary, so young, already possessed the strength to directly confront Patriot Bochkastie, reaching the pinnacle of individual combat power. And Rosemary wasn't even the final product of this project; she was merely a transitional model, an unfinished product left behind when the Loken water tank was destroyed.

Have these Colombian capitalists gone mad?

Seeing Wayne's expression grow increasingly grim, Kal'tsit shook her head:

"You probably already guessed what's going on, but the truth is, they can't possibly succeed. All those who point fingers at the Consciousness Empire are just the ravings of madmen. That ancient land existed thousands of years before us. With their current technology, they're not even qualified."

"That's good....."

"But... Fiona will have to pay the price for this experiment."

Kal'tsit said through gritted teeth.

"Use will cause wear and tear, and once the wear and tear is complete, it will disappear."

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Sentencing Oneself to Death (Two Chapters Combined, 4000 words)

If the Empire of Consciousness is an ocean, then the Soul is a reservoir where everyone reveals their truest self.

As the Demon Lord, Theresa possesses Originium Arts inherited from the Sarkaz kings, and thus bears the residual consciousness within their souls—whether anger, sorrow, helplessness, or longing. However, no matter how resilient a soul is, it cannot withstand numerous instances of consciousness. Therefore, Theresa possesses the "Ten Commandments," storing her consciousness within rings, normally sealed, and released when needed. The rings' seals act like dam gates, ensuring that no matter how Theresa uses the power of the Demon Lord, it will not harm her own will.

The Colombians, though it's unclear where they obtained clues about these matters and conducted related research and experiments, clearly only learned the surface and didn't grasp the core.

Loken's Water Tank Laboratory knew that the idea that "Originium can carry human consciousness and emotions" was not unfounded. Therefore, through the inhumane method of artificially implanting Originium-infected organs, they forcibly infused the consciousness of those killed and forced to reside in Originium crystals into the brainstem of children like Fiona and Rosemary. With a one percent, or even one in a thousand chance, the consciousness of the deceased child would become the intruder in the brain of the next child, and the next child's death would become the intruder in the brain of the child after that. The suffering accumulated, and even infants were not spared. As the tragedy continued to occur, even repeatedly conceived, accompanied by continuous experiments, they would finally obtain a "finished product."

This finished product is the foundation that allows Columbia to stand up, challenge the hegemony of the Terran nations whose elite forces are the immortals, and rewrite the order of this land—a man-made "Demon King".

Their idea was clear, but Kal'tsit immediately dismissed the possibility of the plan.

Perhaps Colombia's founding as a nation came too easily, its development too effortless, or perhaps it stems from an inherent inferiority complex; Colombians have underestimated the mystery of the Empire of Consciousness and the nation on this land.

“As I said, consciousness is an ocean, and the soul is its reservoir. Ordinary people do not have Theresa’s abilities. As they grow, their water will slowly drain away until they finally die. And constantly switching consciousness will accelerate this process.”

Kal'tsit lowered her voice.

Wayne frowned and asked:

"But he seemed quite energetic..."

“He’ll be even more energetic than most people,” Kal’tsit added. “Ordinary people are like a trickle that flows into a long river, while she’s like a floodgate opening. If I’m not mistaken, her Originium Arts adaptability will be incredibly high, far exceeding the realm of ‘superior,’ but…”

Wayne hates three types of people the most: those who know everything but refuse to tell you anything, those who only say half the story...

But this time, he wished Kal'tsit hadn't finished speaking.

"This is why Originium Sorcerers have shorter lifespans than most ordinary people."

Kal'tsit shrugged. Before Wayne could ask again, Himer and Fiona pushed open the door and came out.

"I overheard you two whispering. Would you mind telling me?"

"Hermer asked curiously. She vaguely heard words like 'Loken's water tank' and 'Columbia,' but her attention was focused on Fiona, so she didn't listen carefully."

Wayne and Kal'tsit exchanged a knowing glance, and Wayne spoke first:

"Nothing much, just a discussion about Fiona's condition and how to expose Loken Williams's true colors."

"And the result?" Hammer's face showed great anticipation.

"I will help you, I will do my best. Such a despicable thing should never have happened. Now that it has come to this, it must end immediately!"

Kal'tsit emphasized the word "hatred," and Wayne could hear the volcanic rage emanating from the old lynx's words.

Himer nodded happily:

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

“Help me…” Kal’tsit was about to refuse, after all, in her opinion, as an intern researcher at Rhine Lab, Himer had nothing to do with this matter if he hadn’t just happened to pick up Fiona.

She lacked the power and influence to handle the matter. From a purely rational perspective, after handing Fiona's medical report to Kal'tsit, Himeru was fortunate enough not to hinder them, let alone provide them with any assistance.

But Wayne reached out and stopped her, looking at Fiona who had reverted to her timid self, and said to Himer:

"Take her out more often. Colombia is quite good at entertainment. She should be a healthy and normal child, and she deserves to enjoy the happiness of a normal person."

Wayne shifted his gaze from Fiona's face, looked into Himer's eyes, and said:

"Don't worry about her safety, I promise."

Kal'tsit paused for a moment, a look of helplessness mixed with relief on her face, and nodded as she looked at Wayne's profile.

Leaving Himer's apartment, Kal'tsit crossed her arms, a smile finally appearing on her face for the first time since learning the truth. She looked at Wayne and asked:

"You should know the risks of letting Fiona go out, which is why I said that earlier."

“I want her to resolve her inner conflict as soon as possible, as this will help her provide witness testimony for us in the future.”

Wayne casually offered a reason that seemed quite reasonable. Kal'tsit gave a soft snort.

Lying, and the kind of lying that you've already rehearsed in your mind.

She moved a little closer to Wayne and blew a breeze into the lion's ear:

"Were you telling the truth to Himer before?"

Wayne jumped, completely unprepared for Kal'tsit's sudden intimate gesture. His ears tingled. He rubbed them, his face flushing as he glanced at Kal'tsit.

Kal'tsit, you're so knowledgeable! Have you figured out all the sensitive spots of every race? You damn Terra Industries!

Wayne's eyes darted around: "Which sentence did you say?"

Kal'tsit raised an eyebrow: "And that line too."

Wayne covered his mouth in feigned surprise: "You agree? I never expected that."

"Is there anything I can't agree to?" Kal'tsit smiled.

Whether Wayne's final words were a brief outpouring of genuine emotion, or, as he claimed, merely a ploy to gain Fiona's favor and help her emerge from the shadows to become a witness, it doesn't matter anymore.

Because she truly saw Theresa's shadow in Wayne—no airs of superiority, no treating life as a mere prop, and a compassionate attitude towards everyone. This meant Wayne hadn't lied; he had been working hard. It also meant her supervision had been successful; she hadn't disgraced the mission Theresa had taught her, nor had she led Wayne astray.

To be honest, Theresa's official task for herself was to keep an eye on Wayne and prevent him from philandering. That task could probably be checked off now.

So far, although Wayne has met many women, including quite a few with strong personalities and charm, he has clearly not been involved in any philandering. This is a great victory for Kal'tsit.

"Yes, I won this time."

"Kal'tsit murmured. Facing the night, it was unclear what she was thinking."

...............

Columbia, July 6, the second day of the Technology Expo. Washington State, the capital. State Representative Chianti at a hearing.

The Federal Parliament hall was packed, and the members of parliament, who were known outsiders as "gentlemen," all wore ambiguous smiles as they looked at Representative Chianti, who stood on the podium in the center of the prototype meeting hall.

The suited congressman looked tough on the outside but weak on the inside. When he received the summons from the Federal Parliament, he knew that he was probably doomed this time.

After all, if it were a minor matter, or a serious matter requiring a trial, the subpoena would have been delivered by the Supreme Court justices. Since the subpoena was delivered by members of Congress, it could only mean one thing—the conclusion had already been reached, and he didn't even need to argue; he could simply accept it.

Judging from the gloating looks in the eyes of these former colleagues, one could tell that his "conclusion" was probably not a good thing.

"Mr. Chianti, you have been accused of violating the principles of free competition, the Colombian Human Rights Act, and the Colombian Market Regulation Act in order to gain a competitive advantage, including illegally stalking, illegally detaining, and even illegally hunting down employees of your competitors. Do you admit to this?"

“I don’t admit it,” Chianti said defiantly. A burst of laughter erupted in the hall, as if what was taking place wasn’t an interrogation or a trial, but a farcical drama.

Chianti was nothing more than a clown who screamed and raved on stage. Offstage, all the masked spectators surrounding him derived only pleasure from his every move. No one sympathized with the clown, and no one felt indignant about the predetermined ending he had in the script.

“I have not done what you are saying, Mr. Pavardor.”

Chianti tried to explain, but with each word he uttered, a burst of laughter erupted from the audience. The laughter of hundreds of people easily drowned out Chianti's feeble explanations, forcing him to raise his voice, speed up his speech, and roar as he explained to the rows of colleagues sitting around him, until finally, the comedy reached its climax amidst a continuous roar of laughter.

The congressman, tired of laughing, fell silent, and the solemn presiding judge, with his back to the Colombian national emblem, struck down his gavel:

"Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes Representative Chianti's explanation. What are your thoughts?"