"You want to go see Ifrit with me?"
Saria sat in the driver's seat, glancing at Mobius, who was in the passenger seat.
"Of course," Mobius replied without hesitation. "After all, I just took part in Ifrit's treatment plan. Naturally, I should get to know her better~"
As she spoke, Mobius removed her monocle and polished it with care.
"By the way, why do you care so much about that child? I've heard from others that you even visit her during your vacations."
Saria's voice remained calm as she answered.
"Haydn Pharmaceuticals secretly constructed an advanced laboratory well beyond their actual capabilities. That laboratory was later destroyed for unknown reasons... I believe it's necessary to obtain information from Ifrit."
She paused briefly before adding,
"Moreover… this child is suspected to be an experimental subject."
"You feel compassion?"
"It's not your place to question me, Mobius."
"Alright, alright—let's change the subject."
The drive continued, and Saria was subjected to Mobius' relentless stream of conversation—like a continuous sonic assault.
Mobius jumped from topic to topic: international affairs, cultural customs, tensions between infected and non-infected, historical legends—never stopping for long.
Saria had grown accustomed to it. At times, their discussions even escalated into debates.
"I think Duke Kashchey of Ursus has handled the relationship between the infected and non-infected rather well," Mobius remarked.
"That so-called 'Immortal'? Much of the Regulations on Contact Between Non-Infected and Infected Individuals he issued is nothing more than pseudoscience, lacking any proper scientific foundation. Granted, following those rules may reduce the risk of infection to a theoretical minimum, but alongside effective measures, he's mixed in countless unnecessary restrictions."
"Hehe... Saria, you must understand—Kashchey isn't a scientist. He's a duke. His duty is to win over his people. By sprinkling in easily accepted 'pseudoscience' alongside genuine precautions, he increases public compliance... which ultimately benefits him."
"Perhaps..."
"After all, it's nearly impossible to fully solve the infected problem~"
---
Before long, they arrived at the door to Ifrit's ward.
"Take off your white coat," Saria reminded.
"I doubt it'll make any difference," Mobius muttered, but complied and removed it.
"Saria, come here—"
"Ifrit, careful."
Hearing the sound of Saria's footsteps accompanied by an unfamiliar pair, Ifrit excitedly flung the door open.
But the moment her eyes fell on the green figure standing behind Saria, she froze.
Run! Run!
It was as if another voice—one not her own—echoed endlessly within her mind.
But her body was frozen, paralyzed by an unknown fear.
"Ifrit, what's wrong?"
Saria's voice broke through the invisible shackles holding Ifrit in place.
Ifrit quickly grabbed Saria's arm, pulling her close, and hid behind her—alongside Silence, who had just arrived.
Saria looked at her in puzzlement.
"Why is Ifrit so afraid of Mobius? She's not even wearing a white coat right now."
As Mobius adjusted her monocle with an awkward motion, Saria gently patted Ifrit's head.
"Relax, Ifrit. This is Dr. Mobius. She's here specifically for your condition."
"Yeah…"
Still clinging to Saria's safe presence, Ifrit timidly peeked at the figure who had frightened her yesterday.
All she remembered from that encounter was green hair and something like a shard of glass over her left eye.
But now, looking closely, she didn't seem so terrifying—thin, awkwardly smiling, and radiating the harmless air of a small, timid rabbit.
And yet, the voice in her head would not stop.
'Run! Run! Run!'
---
"Oh~ Ifrit, I'm sorry for frightening you yesterday. Will you accept my apology?"
Mobius bent down slightly, her tone soft.
To Saria and Silence, it looked like a sincere attempt to comfort the patient.
But in Ifrit's eyes—
'Listen, kid… if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already. (unspeakable scream)'
From within the monocle, countless pitch-black snakes uncoiled, slithering over Mobius's body like living strings on a puppet.
They wrapped around her head, arms, and legs, every part of her entwined—each snake's unblinking gaze fixed directly on Ifrit.
---
Ifrit's head moved stiffly, like a robot, in a nod.
When Mobius extended her hand, she took it without resistance.
Sure enough, appropriate intimidation can bring you closer to children.
It was a lesson Kashchey had learned from Talulah. When she first arrived at Duke Kashchey's mansion, she was like a frightened young dragon—causing havoc wherever she went. In the end, a slight scare had made her obedient.
Kashchey still found Talulah's startled expression from that time amusing.
'A shame Natalya was always so well-behaved.'
---
"You still scared her, Mobius."
Saria's instincts flared. She quickly pulled their hands apart and placed Ifrit behind her, shielding the girl.
Silence stood to the side, uncertain what to do.
On one side was the caring director she respected deeply.
On the other, the senior who had come specifically to help.
She looked at Mobius, who still wore that awkward, apologetic smile.
"But why can I so easily sense that the other person is feeling apologetic?"
The thought flashed through Silence's mind.
"Put away your Originium Arts, Mobius. Her mental age is six years younger than her physical age. Psychologically, she's still a child. Your Arts could leave her with lasting psychological trauma that's hard to heal."
Saria's voice was firm as she warned Mobius.
After many years of dealing with Mobius, she knew all too well that she possessed the ability of mental suggestion. Sometimes, she even wondered whether she herself had been subtly influenced. To guard against this, she kept small notes with her as constant reminders.
In the early days, she had been caught off guard more than once, falling for Mobius's tricks. But over time, Saria developed the habit of checking herself daily. Since then, Mobius had never succeeded again.
Mobius's mental suggestion couldn't directly rewrite someone's personality. Instead, she could implant illusions—subtle distortions of reality—designed to influence behavior over time. She could even disguise machine footage under a false shell, creating the perception of something entirely different. The reality remained unchanged, but the target's senses would be immersed in an illusion.
The more the illusion strayed from the subject's prior knowledge, the weaker its effect. For instance, she could make someone who had never seen the ocean "see" it, though the image would remain hazy.
Her Arts also had limits on their targets. People with strong willpower would feel little effect, though not entirely immune. For most adults, the aftereffects were mild—just a day or two of fatigue once the illusion wore off.
But for children or those with weak wills, there was a small chance the aftereffects could last a lifetime.
"I'm sorry~ I'll be careful~"
Mobius withdrew her Originium Arts.
Silence immediately noticed she could no longer sense the apology she had felt moments earlier.
"Dr. Mobius, using Originium Arts on others without permission is extremely dangerous! It's a direct violation of Rhine Lab's work regulations!"
"I'm sorry~ I'm sorry~" Mobius replied, her tone light and insincere.
Silence's impression of her dropped sharply.
"I never expected Dr. Mobius—so highly regarded at Rhine Lab—to be such a disrespectful person."
After the unpleasant meeting, Mobius performed only a brief examination of Ifrit before leaving.
During the check-up, Ifrit behaved quietly, almost obediently.
"Strange… the Diablo hasn't awakened in her. She's not a Diablo yet," Mobius murmured before leaving Saria to comfort the girl.
"The threat you gave me was only fear, not resistance… Is it just fragments of memory left?"
Seeking out Parvis, the head of the Structural Department, Mobius asked staff for his location.
"Dr. Mobius, you're here."
An elderly man with goat-like horns, wearing a white coat and a gentle smile, stood with a coffee cup in hand, instructing a young researcher.
"I'm here~ Excuse me~ Could we have a bit of privacy? We have important matters to discuss."
Mobius smiled at the young researcher. Seeing Parvis nod, the assistant quickly excused themselves.
"How far along is Project Diablo?"
"It's only just begun… I didn't expect Dr. Mobius—always so indifferent to other projects—to lend a hand here instead of continuing with your philosophical and ideological applications, or your cloning research."
"I simply felt like it. Does Saria know about this plan?"
"Of course. She even signed off on the weapons development."
"Really? Then I'll just ask her myself what she thinks about terran experimentation…"
"I can't hide it from you, can I?"
"Don't bother trying. And don't think you can play games with me. What makes you believe I wouldn't ask Saria directly?"
"I never assumed I could deceive an immortal with unknown centuries of experience… It seems my overly naïve student is fortunate to count Director Saria as a friend."
"What are you trying to do? Make your students mature?"
"Yes. They have talent—but they're far too naïve."
"…Sometimes, I truly don't understand what you short-lived people are thinking."
"Thank you, Dr. Mobius. I'll provide you with the technology that can help solve the lifespan issue in your clones."
"Alright."