Discipline Patrol

"What exactly did you do?"

The old magician staring fixedly at Ron frowned, unable to understand how Ron had blocked his grand magic.

He was clearly just an ordinary person...

Could it be because of the Forbidden Codex?

Had he discovered some method of use that the Church had never found?

The old magician was filled with doubts, but Ron ignored him and merely turned his gaze toward the Dimensional Update Manual—

["Setting: Ignorant Servant" loaded.]

The next moment, he felt a chill seep into his body, flowing silently through him like water.

As he looked at the Corpse Shell baring its fangs and claws at him, a strange feeling rose within Ron...

Unlike before, when he had relied on [Fantasy Dissolution] to blow the Corpse Shell apart with one punch, [Ignorant Servant] was not some intangible passive ability.

It gave him a special supernatural power, one he could command as easily as moving his own arm—

Just as if he had awakened a psychic Superpower, the Corpse Shell before Ron became "mentally connected" to him the instant he loaded [Ignorant Servant]!

Suppressing the curl of his lips, Ron savored this unique sensation that belonged solely to the supernatural.

So... this was what having superpowers felt like?

—Something he had spent more than a decade striving desperately to awaken, yet could never obtain no matter how badly he wanted it.

Now, it rested in the palm of his hand.

All he needed was a thought, and the Corpse Shell would immediately turn around and tear apart the master who had summoned it—

Because it was supposed to obey him.

"..."

For some reason, in that single instant, the old magician suddenly felt that Ron had changed.

Cold, lonely... and indifferent as death.

It was as though this high school student, who did not even possess superpowers, had suddenly become a veteran magician of the Necromancer School. The magic of death seemed to have soaked into his very bones!

He did not even seem human anymore. He was more like a Corpse Shell transformed through some ritual!

What trick was this now...

The old magician became wary. Without hesitation, he rubbed the Emerald Signet Ring on his hand, preparing to command the forbidden creature he had summoned once more, but...

The Corpse Shell was gone.

He rubbed his eyes and looked in disbelief at Ron, who stood where he was with a cheerful smile...

The Corpse Shell that should have lunged at Ron on his command had actually vanished into thin air!

Where the hell had his huge forbidden creature gone?

At that moment, Ron pointed behind him and said softly:

"Why don't you look behind you?"

Behind him?

The old magician turned around instinctively, only to be slammed to the ground by a withered claw. All he could see was a huge mouth full of blackened, yellow, rotten teeth, and the green light glowing in the Corpse Shell's throat...

This Corpse Shell had clearly fallen completely under Ron's control!

He had summoned the Corpse Shell through a ritual, and he had been the one to imprint the contract...

So why was he the one pinned beneath its claws in the end?!

He wanted to run, but the Corpse Shell's claws held him down tightly, leaving him completely at its mercy.

In the end, he could only look at Ron in despair and cry out hoarsely:

"You... you can't be an ordinary person! And you can't be a Superpowered either!

—Who exactly are you?!"

"Just an ordinary high school student passing by?" Ron lazily dusted off the corner of his clothes and chuckled.

"Who knew?"

"You..."

The old magician wanted to curse him again, but the Corpse Shell's claw had already crushed his shoulder. Another claw raked across his face, instantly tearing away half of it.

"NO!!!"

He screamed in pain, but the next second, a decayed shriek washed over him and pierced through his skull in an instant. Red, white, yellow, and green matter splattered everywhere...

It was over.

Ron let out a soft breath.

The old magician's already aged and withered body was powerless to resist the cleansing of death magic. In the blink of an eye, it declined, rotted, and decayed...

His screams cut off abruptly. Within seconds, the hunched old magician became a shriveled, rotten corpse, as though he had been dead for ages.

Yet Ron was in no hurry. He continued ordering the Corpse Shell to exert force, releasing life-eroding shrieks at the already dead body.

Death magic continued to leave its marks upon the corpse in every possible way—flesh, hair, bones...

Everything decayed beneath the flickering green light, turning into dull gray dust.

Even then, Ron did not stop.

Not until the Corpse Shell's claws broke, its fangs fell out, and the magic sustaining its movements was completely exhausted. It turned into a pile of white ash alongside the old magician's corpse, scattering lightly into the wind...

The narrow alley echoed with the noisy clamor of nearby residents. Air-conditioning units hummed, condensation water continued to drip, and it seemed no different from before.

Everything was as usual.

"Tap."

Only then did Ron, holding the magic book, move his feet and stroll toward that thin pile of white ash—

He picked up the Emerald Signet Ring that had fallen atop the ashes, gleaming with an enticing light.

He examined the ring, deep in thought.

So... this was the medium used to summon the Corpse Shell?

The old magician had used this ring to control the Corpse Shell... Could this be some sort of magic item?

That did not seem right...

Although the old magician had displayed powers founded upon "mystery," Ron did not believe this was "Magic."

Because the settings extracted by the manual had already explained that the era in which Ideal City existed was one that had completely dissolved fantasy.

All mysteries from the Potion Era should have been utterly erased in this age. Supernatural beings who wielded mysteries, like that old magician, should not exist...

But it had summoned a Corpse Shell after all... Well, he had to test it.

After thinking for a moment, Ron opened the Dimensional Update Manual and switched to [Ashes of the Age of Gods].

["Setting: Ashes of the Age of Gods" is being resisted by the "Anti-Mystery Equation".]

[Property Damage: 1%]

A chill immediately pumped from his heart through his entire body. His vision blurred for a moment, then brighter colors emerged before his eyes.

Using the setting, Ron opened Magic Vision and looked at the emerald ring in his hand—

He could not see even the slightest glimmer of magical light on it.

Just as expected... this was not a magic item at all!

Ron unloaded [Ashes of the Age of Gods] and inspected it closely before finally finding a groove on the inside of the band—

It was a neural interface!

The old magician had actually given his finger a prosthetic modification to keep the ring connected.

It was hard to imagine that someone who looked like an old wizard from a story would also make use of technology...

What kind of neural interface device could this little thing, which looked like a magic item, actually be?

Ron looked at the ring curiously. After some thought, he opened his personal brain-computer interface and pulled out a data cable.

Since it was a clean device the old magician had carried and used himself, Ron was not worried about viruses inside it. He directly connected it to his brain-computer interface—

[Connecting identity authentication. Detecting user...]

A line of text popped up on the brain-computer interface. Ron's heart tightened, but then he saw a green light appear on the interface:

[Necromantic magic detected. Welcome, Master Karen.]

The old magician had actually used "necromantic magic" as the password for identity authentication?

Good thing I had the magic granted by [Ignorant Servant]...

But if it could be used as a password, did that not prove that necromantic magic was also extremely rare among magicians?

Still, why could a technological item that was clearly meant to connect to prosthetics detect such intangible magic...

Ron pondered this, then saw two additional programs appear on his brain-computer interface.

"Magic" and "Association"!

What were these?

Ron opened the "Magic" option. Inside were nearly ten different options, from "Necromantic Fire" to "Scream of the Withered Dead," seemingly all Magic belonging to the so-called Necromancer School.

But none of that was important. What mattered was...

He tapped "Necromantic Fire." The ring glowed faintly, and he felt a wave of dizziness sweep through his mind. His extremely weak Personal Reality was actually triggered by the ring, forming a temporary Ability Model!

A delicate Magic Array was projected above the ring. Within it, a green ghostly flame lit up, giving off a faint chill...

What Magic was there?!

This was clearly just a Superpower called "Magic," driven by Personal Reality!

This ring was not a magic item either. It was a pure Reality Amplifier—

An expensive device designed for low-level ability users, used to temporarily increase the strength of their abilities!

This so-called magician was merely a Superpowered who relied on external equipment.

Still, this Ability Model was indeed somewhat unusual...

Most Superpowered in Ideal City relied on Ability Awakening Experiments to construct a unique Ability Model of their own, which they used to unfold their Personal Reality and form what were known as "superpowers."

To them, every superpower was unique. Even if someone tried to use Personal Reality to replicate another person's Ability Model, there was no way they could release the same ability.

Yet magicians could use abilities through these temporary Ability Models that resembled Magic Arrays. It was simply unheard of...

Ron closed the "Magic" interface and opened "Association."

[Welcome, Master Karen of the [Necromancer School].]

A notification sounded, and then a page with a pitch-black background lit up—

[Buying: Urgently need mandrake solution and corpse fragments from necromantic creatures to help me brew a Sequence Potion from the previous era...]

[Help needed: The hounds of Ideal City have found my trail. I need to avoid them.]

[Help needed...]

Densely packed posts appeared across the page. Ron glanced through them and was astonished to find that this website was filled entirely with posts from "magicians"!

Commissions from magicians were posted and accepted on this website, like a task platform exclusively for magicians...

Who had organized something like this?

The Magician Association?

Ron fell into thought. Then the page suddenly trembled, accompanied by a message notification.

A red dot appeared in the message notifications at the upper right corner of the page.

What was this?

Ron opened the message interface in confusion—

[Anonymous] Commission issuer:

[Master, we have already arranged a time with several other magicians.

Please arrive punctually at noon thirteen days from now at Ω8631 Laboratory of Noah Pharmaceuticals in District C of Ideal City. We sincerely welcome your arrival to resolve this problem that has troubled us for so long.]

The old magician had actually accepted a task before coming to Ideal City!

Ron could not help frowning. After searching briefly, he indeed found the commission the old magician had accepted among the unfinished requests—

[Help needed: A supernatural riot has occurred in Noah Pharmaceuticals' biological laboratory. The original administrator was a master of the Necromancer School, but during an erroneous Magic experiment, he awakened all the corpses in the laboratory...

Among these walking corpses, several forbidden creatures are said to have emerged.

Therefore, we sincerely invite a master of the Necromancer School who knows how to deal with "Corpse Shells" to resolve the supernatural riot in this laboratory and minimize the impact.]

—So there was an organization exclusively for magicians behind the old magician?!

Just from how well-developed this association forum was, it was clear that this organization had been rooted in Ideal City for a long time and possessed considerable strength.

And... Noah Pharmaceuticals?

That was one of Ideal City's three corporate giants!

The vocational college his teacher had recommended to him was just one tiny school among the countless institutions funded by Noah Pharmaceuticals...

Why would a corporation like that have anything to do with magicians?

Ron frowned, a sense of urgency rising in his heart.

The City of Singularity that had conquered nature, humanity's ideal garden, was revealing to him a corner of an iceberg that had never been known...

Science and Magic... the vortex where two utterly unrelated things converged seemed to be drawing him into it.

But...

Ron's brow gradually relaxed, and the ring in his palm reflected a dim green glow.

Crisis was also opportunity.

Just like now.

He opened the magic book. The Potion formula for "Gravekeeper" inside glimmered brightly.

The path to salvation lay within it.

Sequence 9 of the [Death] pathway... perhaps it would give him the ability to protect himself within this vortex!

With that thought, Ron looked at the readily available supplementary ingredients listed above and made his decision.

Tonight, he would drink the Gravekeeper Potion and become a Sequence 9 supernatural being!

With that in mind, he lifted his fallen electric scooter and sped toward the shopping mall in District D...

Not long afterward.

Gentle red moonlight spilled down. Cockroaches crawled through dark corners, air-conditioning units still hummed, and the alley remained as filthy and chaotic as any slum alley—

But several swift black shadows suddenly appeared. They darted through the gaps between buildings in Ideal City's steel forest, then floated down as though carried by the air and landed in a dark corner of the alley, startling cockroaches and rats into scattering in panic.

The shadows wore simple black uniforms, with work badges hanging from their chests that displayed their names and the words "Discipline Patrol."

They pressed against the wall and cleared the way. "This is the area where the monitoring signals were blocked, captain."

A tall young woman in a black dress walked into the alley, stepped past the scattered scaffolding and steel plates, and immediately spotted the gaping hole blasted open in the concrete ground not far away.

The tip of the young woman's nose twitched, and then she instinctively fanned the air in front of her face.

"A faint stench of rot, coming from this hole in the ground... Did something crawl out from inside?"

She frowned and observed closely, seeing a thin layer of white ash scattered beside the opening.

Picking up a bit of the white ash with her fingertips and rubbing it between them, the space around the young woman suddenly rippled.

She instinctively flicked the white ash off her fingertips, and at the same time, the world seemed to have a frame yanked out of it—

The young woman flickered, appearing out of thin air several meters away with ripples oscillating through the space around her body.

"It can actually affect my Personal Reality... What kind of ability is this?"

She furrowed her brow tightly as the squad members immediately fully armed themselves and nervously looked toward that patch of white ash.

"And... cremated ashes? Someone died here?"

The young woman muttered to herself, carefully inspecting the surroundings, but failed to find any clues.

After pondering for a moment, she switched on the communicator pinned to her collar.

"This is Squad C-112, I am Executive Special Agent C01. The investigation of the signal-blocked zone is complete, and a Class B supernatural malicious incident has been confirmed."

"The incident has caused at least one Ideal City citizen's death. Following a preliminary inspection, we believe that an unknown individual used their superpower in this case, suspected of being the murderer.

It is deduced that the suspect has fled into District D of Ideal City, within the range of the Heavenly Listening 271st Block. Their true ability is unknown, and it appears to have the effect of altering others' Personal Reality.

Because the surveillance in this area has been completely destroyed, we require the investigative assistance of [Artemis] to help us find the killer or any potential eyewitnesses, over."

"This is the Patrol Bureau." Soon, a response came through the communicator. "According to the Armed Escalation Principle, partial access authority to [Artemis] has already been unlocked for you."

The young woman opened her personal brain-computer interface, and a line of text quickly popped up on the screen:

[Artemis: Based on the observational data of this block, all potential eyewitnesses during the time window of lost surveillance signals have been calculated for you.]

The ID information of over a hundred residents appeared on the young woman's brain-computer interface, among which a dozen or so were locked inside red borders, flashing vague, faint red exclamation mark markers.

One of the ID photos showed a young, refined face, somewhat decadent and exhausted, no different from the vast majority of high school students in Ideal City.

--This was Ron.