Nicolas and the other scientists stood in stunned silence, awe and disbelief battling in their expressions. Before them lay the result of years of dark research—a miracle in the making. One of the assistants broke the silence, voice trembling with excitement.
"Sir… it looks like this time, we might actually succeed. A perfect human… one without mana, but just as strong as a mana user."
Nicolas gave a cold chuckle. "You fools. No matter how strong you make a human body, they can never defeat those who wield mana."
"But sir," another doctor interjected, "that's why we're making them form contracts with demons, aren't we?"
"Yeah, that's the plan," Nicolas admitted. "For the others. But No.30… he's different."
"Why, sir?" the assistant asked.
Nicolas narrowed his eyes. "Because he's someone who can never use mana, no matter how hard he tries."
After a brief pause, Nicolas continued, his voice lower now, more thoughtful. "When I started this research and got my hands on the Aetherblood, my original goal was to awaken aura in humans."
"But sir," one of the doctors objected, "aura can only be awakened after reaching S-rank."
"I know that, idiot," Nicolas snapped. "But I wanted to force humans to use aura before reaching S-rank. After all, once someone reaches that level, they think it's a waste of time to train aura. They already have mana and rank—why would they bother with something so rare and time-consuming? Aura becomes a forgotten path."
He exhaled sharply, recalling the many failures. "I even got the leader's permission. But every subject died in the process. Then I realized—orcs use aura, not mana. I started studying them. Orcs are born without aura, but their naturally strong bodies let them form an aura core through training. That core allows them to store aura, just like we store mana in ours."
"So you experimented on children?" an assistant asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Nicolas confirmed. "But they couldn't survive the second stage. The leader eventually ordered me to stop and focus on creating enhancement drugs for the Hellkins instead. Not even adults could survive the overload—most of them exploded from mana rejection."
He laughed bitterly. "So I diluted the serum from its original potency. From that, we created the current Hellkin enhancement formula."
"But… sir," the assistant asked, "how do you know this version will even work?"
Nicolas smirked. "Where do you think I worked before coming here? I was part of the World Government. That's why I have a bounty on my head. I read all their classified documents. That's where I learned about Aetherblood. But it's deadly—just a small amount can kill. That's why the leader forced me to stop."
His eyes gleamed as he looked at the unconscious subject on the table. "But now, I have new hope."
Liam—No.30—lay unconscious, his body still processing the second dose of the Aetherblood serum. A full week passed before he opened his eyes. The pain had been unbearable, yet something had changed. He felt… stronger.
He slowly stood and stared at the wall. With one punch, he cracked the reinforced concrete. Alarms screamed through the facility. Children nearby heard the boom and rushed to see the source. Soldiers stormed the room and pointed their guns at Liam.
But Liam ignored them. His thoughts were focused solely on his new strength. This was his plan all along—to get the Aetherblood. His bones were stronger, though his muscles still tore, and blood streamed from his hand.
Nicolas stormed into the room, furious. "What the hell happened?! Why are you here?!" he barked at the soldiers. Then his eyes landed on the cracked wall and the bleeding No.30.
And he smiled.
"Yes… yes! That's my subject!" Nicolas said with manic joy. "Nothing happened. Return to your posts!"
The soldiers hesitated, then obeyed. Nicolas turned to his assistant. "Prepare him for the third dose."
"Sir, we're still working on it…" the assistant replied nervously.
Nicolas's expression darkened. "I gave you the formula. What's taking so long?"
"We didn't expect anyone to survive the second dose…" the assistant admitted.
"And now we have fifteen survivors, you slackers!" Nicolas roared. "How long will it take?!"
"Five months, sir."
"Make it three," Nicolas growled. "If not, I'll feed your heads to my lab snakes."
The assistant paled. "Y-yes, sir."
"And until then, train the survivors—but not No.30. Move him to a private chamber. I'll be conducting all future experiments on him myself. No one is to enter his room without my permission. Remove his name from the list of children. This is where I restart the project I was forced to abandon. And no one in the organization must know."
"Yes, sir."
From that day, Liam was separated from the others. The other children looked at him with fear and pity. But Liam showed no expression. He felt nothing.
That night, one of Nicolas's assistants, Lior, whispered into a secret communicator. "Leader… I can't do this anymore."
A voice replied, calm but firm. "Lior, I know what's happening. But don't do anything reckless. When the time is right, I'll get you out. For now, just keep collecting information on the Hellkins. That's an order."
The call ended. Lior sat in the dark, his heart heavy with guilt.
Two Years Later...
A shock rippled through the empire—Elira Blackspire, the daughter of Duke Elion Blackspire, had been kidnapped in broad daylight at a park. And she wasn't the only one—dozens of children had vanished in the same manner across the region.
The Duke was furious.