"Experiment No. 1, failure. Warren Jefferson failed to complete the advancement from Sequence 8 Provoker to Sequence 7 Pyromancer, lost control, confirmed to be contained by the Crimson Campus."
"Experiment No. 2, failure. [...] failed to complete the advancement from Sequence 9 Seer to Sequence 8 Clown, lost control, confirmed to be contained by the Crimson Campus."
"Experiment No. 3, failure. [...] failed to complete the advancement from Sequence 9 Mystery Pryer to Sequence 8 Pugilist, failure, Beyonder characteristics recovered, corpse has been dumped into the Crimson Campus."
"Experiment No. 4, failure [...]"
"Experiment No. 5..."
"Experiment No. 17, success. [...] mission status recorded, knowledge naturally obtained from the potion, conditions require reaching at least Sequence 7..."
"Experiment No. 18, failure [...]"
"Experiment No. 27..."
[Mission status updated.]
[Please recruit excellent students with the above qualities! And conduct preliminary mysticism cultivation!]
[Mission progress: 2/100]
Among a hundred people, there will always be one or two lucky ones who, even without the process of digesting potions, manage to barely survive spiritually during the process of consuming the potion, are not killed by the corruption contained within the potion, do not truly go mad, obtain knowledge, gained beyonder power, and advance to become Sequence 7 Beyonders.
Within Baron Lamud's territory, in recent years, all criminals sentenced to death for crimes warranting capital punishment, whether hiding under false identities or already captured by knights awaiting execution, have all been brought back to the Theater With Curtains That Never Draw by Marionettist.
The Theater Core treated them as experimental materials. Here, low-sequence Beyonder characteristics were not lacking. The massive theater controlled by the Theater Core contained countless low- and mid-level Marionettes. Releasing them from De-marionettizing, obtaining Beyonder characteristics, and gathering coherent low-sequence Beyonder characteristics of a pathway was equally easy for this "0" level, highly active Sealed Artifact.
Then, it was quite a simple process.
The Theater Core executed the 'Principal's' instructions. The cold and ruthless "0" level Sealed Artifact operated slowly, crushing these humans' bodies and souls, making them become nourishment for the theater, feeding this massive miraculous creation.
Those who met the conditions were imprisoned, those who died had their Beyonder characteristics recovered, those who went mad and became monsters were thrown into the Crimson Campus, becoming one of the many urban legends of that campus area.
Recycling and reusing, dismantling and merging, low-sequence student Marionettes generously went to their deaths, professor Marionettes configuring potions calmly went insane, ordinary people were the cheapest 'garbage' here, used and discarded. Even the cultivated Sequence 7s who had endured the erosion of potions and hadn't lost control were still the lowest existence here, with no human rights, and even hanging them from the eaves to make them into Marionettes would just be wasteful.
They were merely tools for completing system missions, possessing no value in themselves.
Cold and cruel, this was the personality of the Sealed Artifact itself, the spiritual imprint of its former owner, that 'Miracle Invoker.'
In fact, when it saw those newly arrived little brats, it also wanted to hang them up as Marionettes.
Ah, of course this wasn't possible, this was just its negative influence—any living being that dared approach this place should follow the guidance of the Spirit Body Threads and be hung high up, that would be called a miracle!
Olsen looked at the children around him, then glanced at the War Bishop outside the door.
The War Bishop cast his gaze over, looking at Olsen and nodding to him.
Although he was still a Marionette of the Theater Core, the existence of the 'Bionic Marionette' module made this Sequence 3 high-ranking saint loyal to Don, who was sleeping soundly, rather than to the actual manipulator of the Marionette, which was the Theater Core.
The Theater Core often felt mentally exhausted by its disobedient Marionette and wanted to hang the War Bishop up again for De-marionettizing to see exactly what had gone wrong.
Of course, it had never put this into practice.
That Bizarro Sorcerer and the dead thing on him were too evil and sinister. Amitabha, vegetarian diet and Buddhist chants, lie flat, lie flat.
Seeing that the person outside had no intention of helping, Olsen looked again at the children brought back by the Marionettes.
Some of them opened their innocent large eyes, some looked trembling with fear of this new environment, some appeared calm but couldn't help surveying and scrutinizing with their eyes, while others showed longing and admiration.
He looked again at the War Bishop outside the door with a somewhat collapsed expression, his pleading gaze as substantial as reality.
He really wasn't good at taking care of children!
The War Bishop observed his nose with his eyes, and his heart with his nose. Ha, his character card didn't include anything about this aspect.
Didn't know, wasn't clear, didn't understand—this was the responsibility of the living. He was just an ordinary Marionette, what actions contrary to his character setting could he possibly make?
Olsen: ...
Olsen forced a stiff smile and said to the children, "Let's go wash up first. The older children will take care of the younger ones, boys in one group, girls in one group..."
He looked at the two oldest children present.
One boy, named Robert Andrews, an orphan. One girl, named Yalin Catherine, who had a seriously ill mother recuperating at the church—she took her mother's surname.
These children who had been transferred in and gathered together had been placed in the small chapel next to the school auditorium before Olsen arrived. After several hours of interaction, this group of children had found something like pillars of support and developed basic trust in those two oldest-looking children.
Strange environments easily stimulated people to huddle together for warmth. Seeing Olsen look over, the girl called Yalin stood up, and the boy beside her quickly followed suit.
Olsen noticed the bruises and scars on this girl's body. Her face bore the numbness characteristic of people from the bottom of society, but there was light in her eyes.
At this moment, people also walked in from outside the door. They were two nuns wearing monastic robes. Their expressions were gentle and wouldn't make people feel annoyed. The symbols on their monastic robes were not from any of the Seven Orthodox Churches, but rather abstract symbols composed of twisted lines and pupilless eyes.
They softly praised miracles, drawing their fingers across in front of them, making a strange prayer, then looked toward Olsen.
Olsen nodded to them, and they subsequently led the boys and girls out together.
Seeing that he finally wasn't dealing with this alone, Olsen couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
"Really, why do I have to do this kind of thing?"
He complained somewhat, but at the same time, he also vaguely felt strange about Don's condition.
Having previously been knocked senseless by the task of taking care of children, as a traveler with sufficient experience, Olsen thought about Don's previous state.
The Abraham family possessed the complete Apprentice pathway and was once a family with Angel-level powerhouses. Even though they had declined due to the full moon curse, the mysticism knowledge they should have would be passed down generation after generation, allowing descendants to continuously enjoy the 'era's dividends.'
Adjacent to the Apprentice pathway were the Seer and Marauder pathways. The Abraham family did not lack knowledge in these areas. As one of the few Travelers currently in Abraham, Olsen's authority was not small, and the secrets he could know were naturally not few.
This included the abilities, potion formulas, and advancement rituals of Sequence 4 of the Seer Pathway—the Bizarro Sorcerer.
"Bizarro Sorcerer, Don is already a Bizarro Sorcerer. Has his spirit developed problems?"
The biggest problem with this sequence was the constantly splitting spiritual body's Worms of Spirit. Bizarro Sorcerer was also one of the few sequences among many pathways that needed anchoring support at the Sequence 4 stage as a demigod.
Olsen reviewed Don's mental state when he had seen him previously, feeling more and more that this was possible.
Could it be that the ritual was incomplete, and forced advancement had caused the spiritual splitting to become serious?
So what exactly was that devil he killed? From the Rose School of Thought?
He walked outside, wanting to find Don, but was stopped by the War Bishop.
"He needs rest." The War Bishop was brief and to the point.
Olsen fell silent and ultimately didn't go to find his good friend.
There were mid-sequence Beyonders of the Spectator pathway stationed here, so Don should be able to handle this issue.
Olsen exhaled.
"I'll go check on those children," he said.
The campus was very large. After the nuns led these children to finish washing and distributed two sets of clean, sanitary clothes, some equally well-dressed teenagers led them through the wide, clean roads toward the huge building in the distance.
The roads were paved with blue-black asphalt, white buildings rose and fell in orderly fashion, flower beds and various landscaping vegetation were scattered as decorations. There was no dirt, chaos, or shabbiness. Those people standing not far away looked with curiosity but without malice, without the gaze of those sizing up goods for sale—clean, pure, reassuring.
There were no women and children suffering from hunger here, the air was clear, without a trace of the putrid stench caused by garbage not being cleaned up in time, no maggots and flies attracted by corpses. The air carried the diffused aroma of food, with people laughing and playing—the unique vitality of young people, without a trace of life's bitterness.
For people from the bottom of society, everything here was like scenes that could only be seen in dreams, unreal, making people lose themselves, just like the divine kingdoms of the gods preached by the major churches, the paradise that could only be reached after death...
"Four of you will share a room. You can choose roommates you trust. For the little children, if you feel you can't take care of them, you can leave them to me. The school has very good teachers who can also take good care of them."
Leading a group of girls to the fourth-floor corridor, the lead girl in black robes with a gentle face spoke in a light, pleasant, lively, and charming voice that seemed full of magic, making this group of girls unconsciously lower their inner defenses.
"My name is Emily. I'm a member of the Student Council. If you have any problems, you can come find me."
"Can she stay with us?"
The leading girl among the group of outside girls asked this Student Council member, pointing to four-year-old Eva, whose sister was only seven years old.
"Of course, this is your right," Emily said. "After you organize yourselves, um, then we'll go familiarize ourselves with other places."
"Honestly, visiting the entire school in one day is indeed quite tiring," she suggested sincerely. "How about we go to the cafeteria first to get something to eat?"
"Ca-cafeteria?"
A girl asked weakly, "A place to eat? Can... can we eat our fill? Does it... cost money? I... I haven't eaten my fill in so long... and I have no money..."
"Of course you can eat your fill, and right now it doesn't cost money." Emily was enthusiastic.
"The school has a subsidized loan policy for new students. For those underage or without the means to earn money, the school provides a monthly stipend for tuition and living expenses. Ah, of course, you'll need to repay these when you grow up. As long as you perform well, there are also grants and scholarships every year, enough for you to live a normal life."
"You should know, Miskatonic is the only school on the Northern Continent, and will be an unprecedented and unrepeatable, greatest school... I'm serious. The pasta at the cafeteria next to the Language Institute is really quite good. Trust me, this is a very good decision."
"Well then, you rest and organize yourselves, put your clothes in the lockers. Bedding and everything has already been prepared. We'll go shopping for other things later," Emily pushed open the dormitory door, and the clean, tidy environment inside made these girls who had stopped walking widen their eyes again.
"Can we really live here?"
"Every Miskatonic student lives here. Ah, of course, if you prefer to live alone, the school can accommodate that too, but you'll need to confirm your major direction first. This is just a transition."
Emily turned on the electric light in the room, letting bright white light illuminate the four-person dormitory.
This wasn't a candle—the strange light source made the group of children stop and exclaim softly.
"Those are beds, the washroom is on the balcony... very clean, but you'll need to be responsible for cleaning it yourselves. If it gets too messy, teachers will come check... All rooms have the same standards, don't worry, we have plenty of rooms here, enough for everyone. Look, this room's window can see the playground outside. That place gets lively in the evening—right now the upperclassmen are all in class..."
In her rambling chatter, the big children began organizing bedding with the little children. The thin, small children curiously explored everything they could see, their hearts surging with emotion.
Until they clumsily picked up chopsticks, or grabbed bread from the table with their clean little hands and took a bite—the sweet taste almost completely occupying all their taste buds—some of them cried, while others cried and then began to laugh.
They didn't know at first how their fate would change, but if this was a beautiful dream, then let it continue.
This was a miracle, this was their miracle.
This ethereal spiritual feedback was like a continuously gushing spring of sweet water for the Miracle Invoker, gurgling and bubbling up, endless and flowing like a thin stream.
The Theater Core was instantly satisfied. This was much more comfortable than the daily explosions (miracle creation) in the inner campus laboratory~
Flowers that had never seen the sun couldn't help but chase after it when they first encountered it. For people living at the bottom of society, even just a little bit of kindness scattered by those in high positions appeared to them as divine miracles beyond comparison.
And this divine miracle came from the one who brought them here, the master of this territory.
(End of Chapter)