I Arrived At Wizard World While Cultivating Immortality Chapter 657: Conjectures on Fusion and the Visitors

Beneath the laboratory's ethereal, luminous glow, Jie Ming positioned himself at his workbench, three sealed metal containers before him, each cradling a specimen of The Strange. Days had now elapsed since he acquired the Shadow Strange.

Since that significant night, he had scarcely egressed from this laboratory.

The transformation sequence where the Shadow Thief and Rift Dweller coalesced into the Shadow Strange had ignited a profound wellspring of inspiration within him… not concerning the raw power or vulnerabilities of The Strange itself, but rather regarding the 'potential' inherent in such beings.

The instant those two Hazard-level Stranges merged, they breached the demarcation into Disaster level, and with the advantage of fortunate timing, they even grazed the perimeter of Catastrophe level. While the sudden escalation in might was undeniably astounding, what truly ensnared Jie Ming's fascination was the very act of the two Stranges fusing.

This phenomenon elucidated a crucial point: certain Stranges harbored an intrinsic 'affinity' for one another.

Though not all Stranges were capable of fusion, a considerable number exhibited compatible characteristics.

Jie Ming proceeded to unseal the lids of the three containers, one after another.

Within them were encapsulated fragments of three distinct Hazard-level Stranges: one possessing the ability to evoke mild apprehension, another capable of emanating a faint chill in shadowed environs, and a third that induced transient bouts of vertigo.

Yet, as perceived through the faculties of the All-Purpose Eye, their energy fluctuation frequencies revealed a subtle, phased congruence.

He brought the fragment inducing fear and the one emanating cold air into proximity.

The instant their respective energies made contact, a minute repulsion ensued, akin to two identical magnetic poles repelling each other.

However, upon introducing the dizziness-inducing fragment into the equation, the three energies established a delicate triangular equilibrium.

The essence of fear served to pacify the erraticism of the dizziness, the permeating cold tempered the sharpness of the fear, and the dizziness phenomenon filled the interstitial spaces between the cold and the fear.

This observation substantiated that the prior fusion of the Shadow Thief and the Rift Dweller was not an isolated incident—Stranges could indeed exhibit mutual compatibility.

Even in scenarios where two Stranges lacked pairwise compatibility, under specific circumstances, they could harmoniously coexist through the mediation of a third or even more entities. Jie Ming carefully separated the fragments and employed his spiritual power to swiftly commit a sequence of data onto a memory crystal.

Subsequently, he placed the crystal aside, reclined in his chair, and allowed his gaze to drift towards the silver-white metallic surface of the ceiling.

His theoretical deductions continued to unfurl within his mind.

He contemplated that if a sufficient quantity of Stranges were available, and their inherent traits were sufficiently complementary, then in principle, it might be feasible to coalesce them all into a singular, formidable entity.

An existence that encapsulated the entirety of The Strange's attributes, an entity that defied categorization, eluded assessment, and might even prove impossible to define.

That particular line of thought lingered in his consciousness for a fleeting moment before he consciously suppressed it.

It was not that it was impossible—merely that it was currently unachievable.

He possessed far too limited resources at his disposal.

He had merely a few dozen Hazard-level fragments and merely two complete Hazard-level Stranges: the Shadow Thief and the Rift Dweller.

And these had already undergone fusion into the Shadow Strange, thereby becoming a solitary Disaster-level specimen.

He could not revert this process; doing so would constitute a wasteful dissipation of invaluable research material.

What he required were more resources—additional Strange fragments, more complete Stranges, and a greater volume of research data.

Only then could he proceed to delve deeper into the intricate fusion mechanisms of The Strange and rigorously validate the hypotheses and conjectures that ceaselessly materialized in his mind. Jie Ming emitted a sigh, closed his notebook, and deposited it in a secluded corner of the workbench.

Then, he blinked.

His vision penetrated the ceiling, traversed the floor of the ground-level bookstore, crossed the moist, stone-paved thoroughfare, and settled upon an alley situated less than two hundred meters from the bookstore.

Two individuals clad in dark blue uniforms were positioned within the alley's shadows, leaning against the wall and conversing in hushed tones.

Upon the left breast of their uniforms, the emblem of the Spirit Medium Association was discernible, and the collars bore silver trim.

Jie Ming was quite 'acquainted' with both of them.

One was Dirk, a man of youthful years, his facial expression taut, as though burdened by some unspoken tension.

It appeared the predicament of insufficient materials was on the verge of resolution.

Within the alley, the luminescence originating from a distant gas lamp cast a diffused halo upon the damp cobblestone pavement.

Dirk and Harding occupied the liminal space between illumination and obscurity, with half of their forms bathed in light and the other half submerged in shadow.

“Is this the designated location?” Harding inquired, his voice carrying a distinct lack of urgency, tinged with a casual inflection.

“This is the place.” Dirk affirmed, his gaze sweeping across the aged edifice opposite the alley’s entrance, identified by a wooden sign proclaiming “Old Bookstore.” “As per our extended investigation, this establishment has indeed procured a substantial quantity of peculiar materials. We're talking about fragments, sealed vessels, and even some partially developed gene reagents. The volume is considerable, though the variety is quite mixed, lacking a distinct specialization.”

“And the foot traffic?”

“Minimal,” Dirk responded, shaking his head. “We’ve maintained observation for close to a fortnight. Only the occasional individuals resembling typical patrons have been observed entering the shop… however, these individuals depart soon after, and they don’t invariably carry anything with them. Beyond these rare occurrences, there’s virtually no consistent flow of people. It hardly resembles a hub for an organized group.”

Harding gave a slight nod.

This observation was precisely why he had refrained from immediately ordering a raid on the premises.

If this shop were indeed an clandestine base for that particular cult, it should have exhibited a significant movement of suspicious individuals by now.

Yet, over half a month of diligent tracking and surveillance had yielded no irregularities. This led to two possibilities: either it wasn't a cult stronghold, or the cult members were masters of concealment, operating with such profound secrecy that even the Association’s most skilled operatives couldn’t detect any flaws.

However, if the cultists were truly so adept at hiding, they wouldn't have created such an obvious vulnerability through resource transactions. Therefore, that line of reasoning could be dismissed.

“Furthermore,” Dirk elaborated, “relative to the sheer quantity of materials acquired, it isn't enough to sustain the consumption of an entire organization. It appears more indicative of individual endeavor, perhaps one person or a small team, engaged in some form of research.”

Harding shifted his gaze from the weathered wooden door of the old bookstore to Dirk.

“Doesn’t this location strike you as familiar?”

Dirk appeared taken aback, then re-examined the building’s facade.

Ancient, weathered, two stories, with a wooden sign reading “Old Bookstore” above the entrance…

“Why should it seem familiar?”

Harding replied, “Although we haven’t seen any direct photographs, elements related to this shop have surfaced in newspaper reports.” Dirk contemplated this for a moment, and then his pupils suddenly contracted. “Is this the place that was mentioned in the papers before… the one credited with improving the success rate of gene reagents?”

Harding neither confirmed nor denied, merely stating, “I’ve approached various black-market intermediaries. I’ve cross-examined everyone who has had dealings with the Association and was willing to cooperate. Despite their hesitant accounts, the majority of their statements converged on the same location… precisely here.” Dirk’s brow furrowed.

He distinctly recalled that particular intelligence report.

Approximately two months prior, an enhanced gene reagent had unexpectedly appeared in the black market, purportedly boasting a success rate five percent higher than the theoretical maximum. While the quantity was limited, it was significant enough to draw the Association’s attention.

A risk assessment had been conducted, but in the absence of any negative repercussions or reports, the matter had been temporarily set aside.

He had never anticipated that the source of that reagent was situated right before them.

“So then…” Dirk articulated slowly, “the proprietor of this old bookstore, publicly known as a back-alley physician, is actually a high-caliber technician operating in secret?”

“That is the most probable conclusion,” Harding stated, his tone remaining level, yet a flicker of eagerness surfaced in his eyes. “According to the black-market informants, this individual only recently arrived in Mist Capital. His previous whereabouts and activities remain unknown. However, judging by the superior quality of the reagents emerging from his operations, his technical proficiency is exceptionally high—far beyond what a self-taught amateur could achieve.”

“What is his motive for concealing himself here?”

Harding offered a shrug. “It remains unclear. However, by conventional logic, he most likely conducted illicit experiments elsewhere, became a wanted individual, and sought refuge in this city.”

Dirk fell silent for a few seconds, then nodded, a look of comprehension gracing his features, as if the pieces had finally fallen into place.

Regarding the matter of illicit experiments, both he and Harding maintained a rather detached perspective.

Human rights in this world were not held in particularly high regard. Even within the Spirit Medium Association, the practice of utilizing death-row inmates as test subjects was not uncommon. Moreover, numerous so-called “illegal experiments” were deemed so merely because they had encroached upon the vested interests of certain powerful entities.

Should a researcher develop a novel technology within a city but fail to offer a share of the profits to its rulers, it would be branded as “illegal.” If one’s research methodologies were too advanced and displeased specific established scholars, it too would be labeled “illegal.”

Even if one simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a minor official arbitrarily applied such a designation, it would still be considered “illegal.”

Conversely, being wanted for conducting illegal experiments served as a testament to this individual’s capability to independently surpass the combined efforts of an entire research team backed by powerful figures.

Such researchers were highly sought after, even in other cities. Many were ready to spend both money and effort to help these individuals clear their wanted statuses, all in exchange for their advanced technology. Upon understanding this, Dirk found himself growing increasingly excited.

After all, their organization was currently facing a severe shortage of personnel.

The recent incident involving cultists had indeed caused a significant uproar, prompting the Spirit Medium Association to urgently initiate a thorough internal examination.

While a considerable amount of corruption was brought to light, the culprits behind the main issue had managed to evade capture.

However, this deeply entrenched spy was not the primary cause of their current unease. Though problematic, it was not an issue the Association couldn't handle.

What was truly causing them distress was the terrifying Strange that had suddenly materialized a few days prior.

Late one night, a Disaster-level Strange had manifested in the sea not far from their city. Such an event was simply intolerable.

Dirk vividly recalled the utter chaos that had engulfed the Association when they first calculated the Strange's immense energy intensity.

In the subsequent days, the Association had diligently pursued any clues pertaining to this Disaster-level Strange, but all their efforts yielded nothing of substance. This lack of results only served to heighten the paranoia among the members of the Spirit Medium Association.

After all, entities like The Strange possessed an uncanny ability to remain concealed.

If they were unable to locate and neutralize it now, and it were to suddenly erupt at a later time, the entire city could face instantaneous destruction.

Moreover, the emergence of such a Strange coincided precisely with their ongoing investigation into the cultists. To suggest these two events were entirely unconnected would be a grave insult to their collective intelligence.

Consequently, in recent days, the Spirit Medium Association stationed in Mist Capital had begun employing every possible means to bolster their combat strength in anticipation of the impending crisis. Beyond dispatching urgent requests for reinforcements and combat personnel from other cities' Spirit Medium Associations, the recruitment of any capable individual within the city was also being pursued as a precautionary measure.

Given the present circumstances, securing the services of a technically proficient researcher could yield benefits no less significant than the headquarters deploying a Catastrophe-level Spirit Medium.

Furthermore, according to the intelligence gathered, this particular researcher was believed to possess exceptional skill in enhancing gene reagents.

Even if they were unable to present new research findings in the immediate future, this specific capability alone was sufficient to aid the Spirit Medium Association in augmenting its combat strength over the short term. "Let's head inside and get a closer look." Harding detached himself from the wall and began walking towards the old bookstore.

Dirk followed suit, with the two men proceeding one after the other across the damp stone pavement before pushing open the wooden door, its hinges groaning in protest.