Mage Manual-Chapter 117 - 107: The Mouse Puts Chains on the Cat

Chapter 117: Chapter 107: The Mouse Puts Chains on the Cat

Chip processor, is it a corpse?

At that moment, Harvey violently ripped off his prison clothes, as the blood on them had coagulated with the fabric, making a crisp ‘tearing’ sound as he did. The wounds that had just stopped bleeding reopened, from slashes as wide as his knuckles, and blood flowed out, streaking down his dark back in tears as if numerous eyes were crying.

“Actually, I’m quite surprised you know about the processor,” Harvey said while wiping his body with a towel. “This is not something taught at the orphanage; most people in the prison don’t even know what controls their chips, just like ants can’t see the people above them.”

“What confines us is not the prison, it’s the chips. Shattered Lake is just a room in the Kingdom of Blood Moon.”

Igula, with his arms crossed, leaned against the wall. “I consider myself well-informed, frequently mingling in high society. I’ve even made contingency plans for being imprisoned in Shattered Lake, which is why I deliberately inquired about the operations of Shattered Lake Prison and fortunately learned about the existence of processors… But how would a scavenger like you know such classified information?”

With a tone three parts arrogance and seven parts skepticism, Igula managed his words carefully, quietly triggering a ‘Resonance’ Technique Spirit in an attempt to provoke Harvey’s emotions. If Harvey truly knew any secrets, he would undoubtedly be eager to boast about his knowledge and its sources.

...

However, Harvey merely glanced at Igula in the mirror and calmly asked, “You’ve all been to hospitals, right? Have you noticed that in the Kingdom of Blood Moon, there are no private hospitals, only institute-affiliated hospitals and maternity hospitals?”

“Isn’t that normal?” Igula felt perplexed. “Even if there were private hospitals, I wouldn’t go. Affiliated hospitals have low fees, good reputations, guarantees, and plentiful medical practitioners. Private hospitals simply have no room to exist.”

“Normally, medical practitioners come from all species: Human Race, Snake Lizard Clan, Elf Clan, Beastman Clan, even ogres…” Harvey said. “But there’s one department in the hospital staffed exclusively by one species; no other species is allowed to join that department.”

Lanna glanced at the bloodstains on Harvey’s back. “Since it’s related to the research institute, the species you’re referring to must be the Blood Saint Clan… But which department are you talking about?”

“The Department of Corpse Processing.”

Harvey vigorously wiped the scars on his back with a towel, twisting his face in pain, but he remained calm as he spoke. “If I say that the institute established affiliated hospitals and prohibited the issuance of private medical licenses just to keep the Department of Corpse Processing firmly under their control, would you believe me?”

Ash appeared utterly confused—launching an entire hospital for just one department’s sake? As ludicrous as buying crabs just to dip them in vinegar.

Yet, Igula seemed to pass a check of inspiration and asked, “I recall that one of your most serious charges was ‘unauthorized handling of corpses,’ and Blood Saint Clan’s research institute wants to secure their source of corpses… Could it be that corpses are an extremely valuable resource for the Blood Saint Clan?”

“Corpses are not just resources; they are their taboo,” Harvey smiled faintly. “You were surprised just now about the processor being a corpse, but what if I told you that all members of the Blood Saint Clan are corpses?”

Ash recalled the arrogant, white-haired hunter Gerard, finding it hard to associate him with a corpse. Although he was bad at cards, he was clearly quick-witted, only a notch below Ash himself.

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“A corpse… Yes, exactly, that makes sense now!”

Igula had a sudden realization. “I’ve wondered why the Blood Saint Clan has such prolonged life and never ages, whereas other Longevity Species like the Elves do age. I used to think it was some miracle, but if they are corpses, their appearance would naturally be fixed at the moment of their death!”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve met members of the Blood Saint Clan before and indeed, I never heard their heartbeat,” Ronald shrugged. “Lanna, being from the Moon Shadow Clan, you must know more, right?”

He turned his head but found Lanna’s expression strange—or rather, completely expressionless. He did not speak or shift his gaze, staring straight ahead like a frozen wax figure.

“If he is from the Moon Shadow Clan, he cannot respond to this topic,” Harvey stated. “The Moon Shadow and Blood Moon clans signed a contract during their species transition, vowing to keep each other’s secrets.”

“So you’re saying, the processor that controls all the chips of the death row inmates is a member of the Blood Saint Clan!?” Ash asked.

“Hold on, we’re not quite there yet,” Harvey remarked. “The Blood Saint Clan has always been hiding the secret that they are corpses while controlling all corpse sources to prevent anyone from learning about the Necromancy Faction through studying corpses—the Necromancy Faction being the only magic faction that can control corpses!”

“In other words, Necromancers are the natural enemies of the Blood Saint Clan. Though I can’t manipulate the Blood Saint Clan as easily as I can corpses, if I were to face a mage of equal rank from the Blood Saint Clan who isn’t proficient in the Necromancy Faction, I am confident I could prevent him from summoning his Technique Spirit, disorient him, and grind away his soul, leaving behind a true corpse!”

Igula raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Harvey’s claims.

Every faction mage claims their own faction to be the strongest, just like Igula firmly believes that the Spirit Faction is the most powerful. Harvey’s fervent praise of the Necromancy Faction certainly seemed exaggerated.

This type of claim—’our faction is so powerful that it had to be suppressed’—is a common narrative among less popular factions.

Lanna exhibited a similar attitude; being an exile of the Moon Shadow Clan, he undoubtedly knew more but could reveal nothing due to the contract.

Ronald and Ash both had an expression that said, ‘Wow, you’re so amazing, I’m going to follow you.’ Ash clenched his fist excitedly and said, “Okay, if Hunter Captain Gerard catches up to us during the prison break, Harvey, you’ll take care of him!”

Harvey’s face stiffened, “Although he’s a natural enemy, I can’t possibly take on a Three-winged by myself…”

Well played… Igula glanced at Ash, thinking that he truly lived up to his reputation as a Swindler’s man, casually suppressing Harvey’s status with a single sentence. Beneath the facade of adoration was a bellyful of malicious linguistic traps. Was this the talent of a Cult Leader?

Harvey shifted the conversation, “However, although I can’t compete with a real Three-winged Holy Realm Blood Saint, if the opponent is in a special status, like being asleep, that would be another matter entirely. For example… a Blood Saint’s corpse used as a chip processor!”

What Harvey mentioned next reminded Ash of a term: biotechnology!

Due to the Mage system, the technology of mages in this world was very advanced, like the chip implanted at the back of the neck, which was a derivative product of mage technology. Though the chip was mainly a portable device for sending and receiving messages, watching videos, listening to music, or being used as a locator, controlling a person’s behavior through a chip would certainly exceed its functional limits.

Those ‘functional limits’ that couldn’t be met naturally relied on ‘Miracles.’ But only Mages, who could cast miracles, needed to be Mages.

Even if the Mage was dead, as long as certain conditions were met, they could still perform miracles.

The so-called chip processor was actually a series of Blood Saint Mage bodies whose souls had entered the Void Realm. The Blood Saint Mages from the Necromancy Faction, Alchemy Faction, and Electromagnetic Faction used miracles to recycle these bodies, eventually turning them into terminal processors that could automatically send and receive chip signals!

This was not only eco-friendly and energy-efficient but also imaginative, breaking theoretical limits and introducing technology that might have been invented hundreds of years later into the prison for death row inmates to experience earlier.

But Ash had a question: “If you only need Mage bodies, it doesn’t necessarily have to be the Blood Saint Clan, right?”

“This is my speculation,” Harvey said. “Although the existing Blood Saint bodies are dead, their souls haven’t entered the Void Realm, and their bodies are long-lasting. This leads to an easy conclusion – their souls linger in their bodies, perhaps even more specifically, in their blood.”

“Even if most of the soul energy in the body has dissipated, in the blood, in the body, there probably still remain some soul fragments.”

Hearing this, Igula understood immediately: “Resurrection?”

Harvey nodded, “For the Blood Saint Clan, a body does not signify complete demise; ‘becoming a processor’ might be an important step in the resurrection ritual, and not all Blood Saint Mages are turned into ‘processors’—this privilege might only be reserved for high-ranking Mages.”

“Incidentally, I’ve run tests before—when I activate the Light Screen on the chip to watch videos or play Veil games, complex operations like these, the soul energy shows a significant drain but recovers quickly, so much so that even Mages struggle to notice. As for why it consumes that bit of soul energy, it could be explained as the energy needed to operate the chip, but it might just as well be… the nutrition required by the body.”

Listening to this made Ash feel uncomfortable all over, and he subconsciously scratched the back of his neck. It was as if everyone had a tube in the back of their necks, connected at the other end to a withered old corpse that was absorbing nutrition from the living every second.

“Yuck! Wow…ugh!” Ronald shivered, then suddenly rushed to a stall and started vomiting into the toilet—he was actually nauseated to the point of throwing up!

Harvey, putting down a towel, turned around to face them by the sink, “So, are you willing to accept my joining?”

Now, even Igula couldn’t find a fault, “Archibald, welcome to join us.”

“Hold on, I still want to verify something,” Harvey asked. “You must have a method to remove the chips, right? If we can’t remove the chips, this so-called prison break is just a bad joke.”

Igula nodded, “We do.”

“That’s good, at least there’s a possibility of success. But before I join, you must first sign a contract, agree to a demand—”

“Necromancer,” Igula’s voice turned cold, “I admit you’ve brought some interesting information, but that’s all it is—interesting. Till now, I don’t see how you can contribute to the prison break.”

Lanna gently patted Ronald’s back to make him feel better while asking, “You said you could control bodies used as chip processors; does that mean you can directly change our chip permissions?”

Harvey shook his head, “No, changing prisoner permissions would require access to the ‘Sinners’ Catalogue.’ Unless we can erase our records from the ‘Sinners’ Catalogue,’ there’s no way we could lessen the chip’s restrictions.”

“Then what use are you?” Igula’s expression grew even more unfriendly.

“While I can’t lessen our restrictions, I can increase others’. It’s difficult to unlock chains, but it’s quite easy to place chains on others.”

Harvey gestured with his hand lightly across his neck, “The Prison Guards’ chips, too, are under the jurisdiction of the processors.”