Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 727 - 337: Seeking Heart (Part 2)

A sudden, profound shock rippled through Ron’s spirit as he witnessed the scene unfolding before him.

Lance brought a Sea Siren boy—who placed absolute trust in him—onto the operating table. With the application of an anesthetic rune to render the child immobile, he commenced what he referred to as his "life research."

Throughout the entirety of the procedure, Lance maintained a gentle, serene expression, continuously offering comforting words to the boy, who was paralyzed by utter terror.

"Do not be afraid, for this process will be over in just a short while.

You shall soon drift into an eternal slumber, a place devoid of both pain and fear, where only endless peace remains."

Even more ghastly was the fact that, beyond his bloodline fusion experiments, Lance meticulously documented every reaction the boy exhibited during the ordeal.

This included the intensity of the child’s fear, his facial expressions of agony, and the gradual fading of his consciousness.

It appeared as though he were engaged in some form of pathological artistic endeavor, pursuing a grotesque version of perfection.

A wave of visceral nausea surged within Ron.

As someone from the modern era, he found it impossible to reconcile with such a callous disregard for innocent life.

Treating living children as mere test subjects with such cold detachment bypassed the most fundamental limits of his morality.

Yet, simultaneously, he could not ignore the sheer brilliance of Lance’s experimental methodologies.

The surgical precision in managing the flow of life energy and a deep, intuitive grasp of organ mechanics stood as a testament to the pinnacle of bloodline research during that period.

"I cannot allow my emotions to cloud my judgment," Ron thought, forcing himself to settle his mind.

"I must extract the technical principles from this while casting aside any moral biases. What has happened is already fixed in history; my duty is to ensure that this knowledge is eventually directed down a righteous path."

Though fragments of memory continued to churn, the nature of their content grew increasingly dark and twisted.

The emotional vault belonging to Airena Moonlight soon manifested before Ron.

It revealed a magnificent, subterranean palace boasting a vaulted ceiling tens of meters high, with walls lined by a multitude of transparent containers.

Every container held an extracted and purified emotion, transforming these abstract concepts into tangible entities.

Love was manifested as a pulsating pink orb, glowing gently within its vessel,

Hatred appeared as a churning, blackened mist that perpetually slammed against the interior of its cage,

And fear, resembling a silver serpent, writhed frantically in its liquid domain.

The most unsettling aspect was discovering that these emotions had retained fragments of their former owners’ consciousness.

Ron could perceive their cries, their pleas, and their curses:

"Please... let me return to my child’s side... I yearn to feel my love for him once more..."

"I demand vengeance! I must slay that Witch! She pillaged my anger, and now I have lost the ability even to hate!"

"Fear... fear permeates every corner... I no longer comprehend what the feeling of safety entails..."

Airena stood amidst these agonizing containers, her face illuminated by an expression of pure ecstasy.

She caressed the glass of each unit tenderly, as if she were a connoisseur admiring a prized art collection:

"Such untainted emotions... what flawless extraction... each one represents the very essence of the human soul..."

She eventually turned her attention toward a container filled with a deep blue fluid, which held a mother’s devotion to her child:

"This maternal affection is so profound, so selfless... I intend to refine it into the ultimate potion, allowing those who have suffered the loss of loved ones to once again experience the warmth of being cherished."

However, Airena remained willfully blind to the fact that her supposedly "charitable" pursuit was built entirely upon the brutal plunder of the original owners.

Once deprived of their capacity to love, the mothers had been reduced to nothing more than emotionally hollow husks.

Ron had fully immersed himself in the observer’s perspective, witnessing these events in silence.

If Lance’s cruelty contained a splinter of twisted logic, then Airena’s actions were rooted entirely in the madness of self-deceit.

She convinced herself she was performing good deeds, yet in truth, she was merely the architect of even greater suffering.

Ron had grown accustomed to detaching himself, allowing for a strictly technical analysis:

"The materialization of emotions... if this technology were further refined, perhaps it could serve to treat deep psychological trauma.

For instance, one could excise a patient’s fear and pain without compromising their other emotional capacities..."

The memory fragments continued to plummet into insanity.

Ron witnessed the downfall of Aegis Rakoru as he obsessed over the Philosopher’s Stone.

This once-revered Great Wizard, in his desperate bid for eternal life, had constructed a facility specifically for the harvesting of "pure souls."

Tens of thousands of children from numerous races were confined within cramped, suffocating cells.

Their innocence and hopes were slowly siphoned away, utilized as fuel for the refinement of that legendary stone.

The most horrific revelation was that the procedure required the children to maintain full consciousness throughout the extraction process.

Only in a state of active awareness does the soul possess sufficient vitality.

Even more appalling was the laboratory of Damian Puchi.

This insane Alchemist pushed biological modification to its extreme limits.

His laboratory was like something out of a surreal nightmare:

Some subjects were converted into living vessels for organ cultivation,

Their abdominal cavities hollowed out to hold various precious organs, yet their brains remained active, forced to endure unimaginable agony through every passing hour;

Others were fused into multi-headed abominations, where the heads of three or four different people were forcibly sutured to a single torso,

Their conflicting consciousnesses trapped in a perpetual state of mental tearing;

While others still were repurposed into tools possessing partial awareness,

Such as speaking tables, thinking chairs, or weapons that retained the memories of the humans they had once been...

As he plunged deeper into these increasingly dark recollections, Ron felt his spiritual defenses being subjected to an unprecedented assault.