Hidden traces emerge

"I'd like some ham and eggs, a big, prime fried steak, smothered in thick gravy..."

"And a large mug of ice-cold beer..."

Gordon opened his eyes, half delirious with hunger.

There was no breakfast, of course. All he saw was a crack in the ceiling.

A notification appeared on his retinas.

[Crack. It won't repair itself.]

Great.

His eyes were still spouting things without rhyme or reason.

Gordon, twenty years old, had transmigrated into a penniless student at the Royal Academy of Natural Sciences University. His current main quest was "pay off your student loans."

Until he repaid all his student loans, he had to work for the university.

He was currently working for Professor Winslow. The pay was poor, and the only perk was being allowed to sleep in the dissection laboratory.

He sat up on a narrow wooden table.

The table had originally been used for corpses, but one of its legs was too short, so Peter, the professor's assistant, had passed the reject on to him.

The room was freezing and smelled of chemicals.

He didn't have many roommates, and all of them were in glass jars: a juvenile Aberrant, malformed organs, and a few heads that still looked as though they were listening to a lecture.

Gordon scanned the room. Whenever he focused on an object, strange notifications appeared on his retinas.

[Dissection table. Waiting for you to clean it.]

[Your drinking cup. Chipped at the bottom.]

Thanks. I knew that when I bought it.

[Gordon's old coat. Contains three copper pennies.]

The instant Gordon saw this notification, he sprang into action, scrambled off the table, and rushed toward his coat.

He rummaged through the inner pocket, first pulling out some crumpled scraps of paper. Only after reaching deeper did he find the three copper pennies.

Yes!

Sure enough, one of humanity's simplest pleasures was finding money in old clothes. Unfortunately, his student loans totaled a hundred gold pounds-two thousand silver pounds, or two hundred thousand copper pennies. Decades of income for an ordinary person.

Gordon hadn't come with this ability.

Three days earlier, Gordon had helped the professor dissect the corpse of a black goat-shaped Aberrant. Everyone had thought it was completely dead, but the moment they moved it onto the table, its head exploded with a bang, spraying cloudy fluid straight into Gordon's eyes.

He still remembered that terrible pain. It felt about as bad as having his balls smashed.

When he woke up, Gordon saw the university hospital's white walls and heard the doctor's ominous words. "Student Gordon... I don't know whether there will be lasting effects, but I do know you definitely can't afford the treatment."

After some basic treatment, the doctor left him a bill for twenty-one silver pounds. The charges included flushing contaminants from his eyes, an analgesic tincture, and cleaning the bed...

No wonder the university hospital's profits kept hitting record highs. All Gordon could do was hail its invincibility.

Now, just as Gordon folded up the bill, footsteps sounded outside the door.

It was Professor Winslow, wearing a wool coat and silver-rimmed glasses. His mustache was meticulously trimmed, and a stack of newspapers was tucked under his arm.

"How are your eyes? Do they still hurt?" The professor glanced at Gordon.

"Especially when I look at the bill."

Winslow fell silent for a moment, then decided to skip that subject.

"There's a public lecture this morning in the third-floor lecture theater. I'll be dissecting that spider Aberrant's corpse. You and Peter find it and get the room ready."

"Understood."

"Not much news today." The professor put down the newspapers and turned away to make coffee.

Gordon went over to look at the papers.

"Lundenim Police Station's new rule: before arresting a drunk, confirm he isn't a member of parliament"

"Rising Blackwater River washes up three mermaids; onlookers say it isn't today's strangest event"

"Gentlemen's club floor collapses; underground casino forced to operate openly"

"Gallows Lane rents rise; landlord says rooms where people died have more historical character"

"University professor invents intelligence potion; stupid student drinks it and decides to drop out"

Right. Not much news at all.

This was the capital of the Logris Empire. Anything could happen here.

Gordon walked over to the window.

From here, he could see the university's solemn silhouette: ancient, majestic, beyond words. Some buildings dated back to the Second Era or even earlier. Spires crowded together, while the teaching buildings' gray-white stone walls enclosed broad lawns. Heavy fog hung over Lundenim, mingled with coal smoke and morning light.

This was the year 3E355, the golden age of the Logris Empire.

"Golden" was an excellent adjective. It meant banknotes, military honors, and the glorious future the newspapers trumpeted every day. The empire's territories, too, were painted a solemn gold. Fleets brought curiosities back from the seven seas, while steam cranes swung their iron arms along the docks like the half-grown skeletons of new gods.

People believed they had thoroughly tamed terror and would never again have to bow before the indescribable.

Gordon entered the storeroom and looked at the spider Aberrant's corpse, which would soon be sent to the public lecture.

It lay quietly beneath a thick white cloth.

For some reason, his eyes began to itch again.

At nine that morning, every seat in the third-floor lecture theater was occupied. Everyone sat bolt upright. The knowledge hadn't entered their heads yet, but their posture already earned a passing grade.

This was a public lecture at the Royal Academy of Natural Sciences University, so quite a few experts sat in the front rows, including members of the university's board.

The spider Aberrant lay in the middle of the lectern.

Gordon quietly arranged the necessary instruments, with Peter, his senior, working on the other side.

Dissection Knife, rulers, bone saws, Source Substance Reaction Test Paper... Everything was neatly arranged according to Professor Winslow's preferences.

"Gordon! Over here, over here!"

Charlotte, a blonde girl, waved at Gordon.

After finishing his work, Gordon quickly went to the back row and sat beside Charlotte. Some newcomers might have found something amiss: a beautiful, shapely noble girl, with a commoner sitting right next to her.

"You look awful!" Charlotte leaned closer, and Gordon caught a lovely scent.

"Sleeping in the dissection room does have its issues," Gordon said.

"Don't tell me you have to fight the corpses for somewhere to sleep."

"No need. They sleep better than I do."

Charlotte covered her mouth and laughed, then opened her bag of bread and offered Gordon a delicious piece.

"Here. This piece of bread in exchange for a set of anatomy notes."

"Sure, sure. I knew you hadn't taken any." Gordon deftly accepted the bread and took a big bite to soothe his stomach, then lent her his notes.

"Don't say that. I wrote loads."

Gordon glanced at Charlotte's notes.

First page: date, names, course title.

Second page: a drawing of a spider wearing a top hat.

"It looks like it understands this course better than you do," Gordon said.

"What can I do?" Charlotte sighed. "I'm tempted to study theology instead."

Charlotte Montfort was a count's daughter.

She sat with Gordon because he sometimes said strange things.

Things like, "Wherever the railways go, wealth follows," "Some companies will one day be more famous than the entire empire," and "Even if you're nobility, never underestimate Lundenim's commoners"...

The first time Charlotte heard these things, she thought he was talking nonsense.

Later, she repeated them to the count. The normally aloof Count Montfort looked surprised.

"...You can associate with him. It will do you good."

Charlotte had always listened to her father.

Gordon, meanwhile, associated with Charlotte purely because he had turned around during class once and discovered her fidgeting, swinging a foot with its shoe off. A fine-quality white sock hugged her delicate ankle.

In other words, it was a matter of artistic appreciation.

Winslow stepped up to the lectern, and the room fell silent.

Swish!

He pulled away the thick white cloth.

People gasped at the horrifying spider Aberrant.

It had a sturdy carapace and eight long legs. Even dead, its eyes still gleamed viciously.

"Humans live in houses; spiders live in webs. Through their webs, they sense everything around them."

Winslow spoke with easy assurance.

"Aberration means this creature has been permeated by some form of Source Substance power. That is to say, a power closer to truth. An ordinary spider's web is visible, whereas a spider Aberrant's web is invisible. It gathers all information, capturing every minute vibration in the air. This is also why it is dangerous..."

Winslow made the first incision and began the dissection.

The spider's body was hollowed out, and an assortment of things resembling venom glands, ganglia, and silk sacs lay arranged on the white cloth...

Winslow examined the contents one by one. The Source Substance Reaction Test Paper showed no change at all.

Finally, Winslow put down his scalpel.

"Unfortunately, this corpse shows no Source Substance reaction," Winslow said. "That is normal. Not every Aberrant contains Source Substance."

A murmur ran through the room. Many of those present yearned for Source Substance.

Gordon looked at the lectern.

Several dull notifications appeared in his field of vision, one after another.

[Lectern. Has heard many incorrect conclusions.]

[Ancient Spider Demon. No objections.]

Wait.

Gordon had almost looked away.

But something deep in the spider demon's abdominal cavity began to glow. He didn't understand what it was, but it jolted him alert.

There really was... something glowing white deep in the abdominal cavity, behind several clusters of ganglia.

Gordon rubbed his eyes, hoping it was an illusion.

But that silver glow still hadn't vanished.

That's strange. Professor Winslow checked there too. How could he have missed it?

The professor's expression remained impassive.

Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Or was there really something inside? Gordon had to make sure.

"...Do you see it?" Gordon asked.

"I see a spider." Charlotte propped her chin on both hands.

"Look closely. Yes, at the spider's belly."

"A big pile of stuff."

"Ignore that. Something's glowing. Flickering."

Charlotte strained to look for quite a while but still saw nothing. Finally, she whispered, "Gordon, should you go back to the hospital? They charge a lot, but you only have one pair of eyes."

Undeterred, Gordon looked around him.

Everyone was perfectly calm.

The board members were discussing lunch, the experts were checking the time, and the students looked vacant, reduced to the instinct of writing down whatever Winslow said.

It seemed...

Gordon was the only person who could detect anything unusual.

With that thought, he examined it more closely, hoping to see a notification.

Its glow gradually brightened, and its shape grew clearer, resembling a thin thread.

At last, the hidden traces emerged.

[Shining minor Source Substance-"Unbroken Strings." Can enhance synchronization between nerves and limbs. The flesh has never had autonomy; it is merely an empty shell inhabited by nerves.]

Gordon held his breath and read the line from beginning to end.

Three days.

For the first time, his eyes had identified something important.

Source Substance! And apparently one that enhanced the nervous system. It had to be worth a fortune.

Gordon looked around. Everyone remained oblivious.

He steadied himself and began twirling his pen. Don't smile. Wait until after class to declare victory.

He couldn't mention the Source Substance publicly.

If he pointed it out in front of everyone, they would probably think he was trying to find fault with the professor.

If he got thrown out of the lecture... that really would be social suicide.

Gordon was already penniless. He couldn't afford to lose his reputation too.

Besides, if he spoke up, it could end up in anyone's pocket-but certainly not Gordon's.

The university's clock chimed, and Winslow announced the end of the lecture to thunderous applause.

Everyone dispersed. Nobody cared about the spider anymore.

With a sweep of his hand, Peter covered it with the white cloth again.

Gordon came down the steps.

"Peter, where's this going?"

"The Old Fish Market." Peter organized the instruments without looking up. "We're selling it to a dealer."

"For how much?"

"Twenty silver pounds at most. Those people are stingy."

Twenty silver pounds.

Right now, Gordon couldn't even scrape together that much.

Worse still, Peter already had a wheelbarrow ready and was preparing to cheerfully cart it away.

"Come on, let's... get some chips down at the docks?" Charlotte came over to Gordon and suggested it casually.

Gordon looked at the thick white cloth.

"Charlotte. Do you have any cash on you?" he asked, more serious than he had ever been in his life.