Chapter 67: The Professor’s Trap

Chapter 67: Chapter 67: The Professor’s Trap

"Everyone sees what you appear to be; few experience what you really are." — Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

•••

Joel kept his appointment.

The annex door stood open, just as Malakor had promised. Warm lamplight spilled into the corridor, making the entrance seem welcoming.

There were no silver tripwires or watch-glyphs tonight. Malakor had removed the security measures and left the door open.

Joel understood the message.

The professor was expecting him.

It also confirmed what Joel had suspected. Malakor would have discovered the missing research by morning, yet his door had remained open every night since.

A man who had lost nine years of research wouldn’t simply go to sleep. He would prepare for whoever had stolen it.

Joel had come prepared too.

He wore his battered coat, with clean cuffs and nothing hidden in his sleeves.

He knew exactly why he was there.

Joel walked calmly down the stairwell, passing the glowing cords that were now inactive.

At the bottom, the living muscle barrier opened before he could even offer his heartbeat.

Malakor was clearly expecting him.

The glass-filled laboratory had also changed.

The forty tanks had been pushed against the walls in two rows, their liquid levels lowered to half. The stitched creatures inside watched Joel pass with their many unnatural eyes.

A ten-meter stretch of clean, polished stone lay between the tanks, resembling an operating room prepared for surgery.

"You came."

Professor Malakor stood at the far end of the room, wearing his grafting apron. He looked as friendly and tired as ever, with chalk still covering his sleeves.

"I must admit, I was hoping you wouldn’t," he said. "That would have meant I was wrong about you."

He gave a faint smile.

"And these days, I’m rarely wrong."

"Wouldn’t miss it," Joel replied.

"No," Malakor said with a gentle smile. "I didn’t think you would."

Behind Joel, the stairwell began sealing itself.

The living walls slowly grew together, layers of flesh joining until the passage was completely blocked.

The upper door also disappeared as the flesh covered it.

Squelch. Squelch.

[Ding!]

[Warning: containment membrane established. All exits sealed.]

[Hostile confirmed: Professor Malakor. Level 50. Class: [Flesh-Crafter].]

"Nine years," Malakor said, walking along the edge of the cleared floor with his hands behind his back. "Nine years of arranging expedition routes, selecting students, and attending memorials."

He smiled faintly.

"And then, the one student who never asks questions suddenly visits my laboratory during the same week my research disappears."

He looked directly at Joel.

"You asked me how long dead tissue could continue working after being transplanted. That same night, my research folio vanished. I’m not a fool, Mr. Joel."

"You left the door open," Joel replied.

"Of course. I was waiting for the thief. A clever one, apparently."

Malakor chuckled.

"I even held a memorial for you in advance. Tuesday, I believe. Candles, expensive decorations, and students crying during the second hymn. I spoke about what a quiet and hardworking boy you were."

He shook his head with a sad smile.

"One of my finest performances. And believe me, after nine years of losing students, I’ve become very good at mourning them."

His expression slowly turned cold.

"And yet, here you are. One boy. Level thirty-three. Rank fifty, if I’m being generous."

He spread his arms.

"A foolish student trying to play hero for people who are already dead. You willingly entered the laboratory of a Level 50 professor, thinking you could accomplish something."

Malakor shook his head.

"That’s not courage, Mr. Joel. That’s foolishness. And I always make sure things are properly balanced."

He raised one hand.

Immediately, every half-empty tank along the walls began trembling.

"Children. We have company."

Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!

The tanks opened one after another.

Three horrifying creatures stepped onto the cleared floor.

[Ding!]

[Threat assessment: Flesh-Golem x3. Level 40 each.]

[Composition: reanimated student stock, Deep-fauna grafts, master runes.]

[Remnant identification: twenty-one souls. All filed as drowned.]

Joel used [Soul Sight] once, and the golems opened up before him.

He saw master runes, soul-strings, and thin, stretched souls tied through every part of them.

Students.

He had prepared himself to face monsters in this room before.

Instead, he had found students.

Now it was the same again.

His calm expression did not change, which somehow made it even worse.

The first golem moved on eight long legs taken from an abyssal crustacean. On top of that body, a drowned boy’s torso had been strapped in place like a decoration. Its arms ended in bone cleavers.

The second was as wide as a doorway, its body packed with layers of stitched muscle beneath the skin. A girl’s face hung loosely at the front.

The third had three heads fused together at the shoulders, and it was already screaming. The three voices joined into one awful sound that made the vats around them ring.

The Choir.

Joel had not meant to name them, but the name came anyway.

Malakor folded his arms and watched calmly.

"Take him alive if possible," he said. "The stitching is durable, but the material is valuable. And Mr. Joel... scream if you want. This room was built for it."

The first golem attacked.

Krk-krk-krk.

Eight legs moved in a blur. It crossed the floor in two leaps, its bone cleaver already swinging toward Joel’s neck.

And Joel smiled.

It was not a kind smile.

It was the smile of a man who had finally found the forged signature at the end of a file and realized the whole case now belonged to him.

Malakor had read Joel’s file from beginning to end.

He had simply never audited it.

"You’re right about one thing, Professor," Joel said. "I came here because I wanted to feel something."

He took a slow breath and unlocked the power he had kept hidden inside his core.

"Full deployment. All three. Hold nothing back."

[Ding!]

[Fate-Bound Legion: full deployment.]

[Nyx, Shadow-Blade General: deployed.]

[Vulcan, the Forge-Lord: deployed.]

[Thalassa, Oracle of the Deep: deployed.]

[Bound unit slots: 3 of 3.]

"Legion," Malakor repeated, and for the first time, his calm slipped.

The shadow on the ceiling split open, and Nyx dropped from it, two and a half meters of darkness and sharp blades. Her coat snapped as she fell, and her crown pulsed once with quiet pleasure.

The strider-golem’s cleaver arm came off at the elbow before Nyx’s boots even touched the floor.

Shhk. Krak.

"Architect," she said, pleased.

Joel’s own shadow opened next.

What rose from it was as tall as a siege engine, its body cracked with ember-light from head to fist. The floor beneath its feet began to glow.

Its voice shook the stone.

THMM.

"The building," Vulcan rumbled, "is condemned."

Then the drained tanks responded.

Liquid climbed upward inside the glass. Mist peeled away from the walls. And Thalassa was suddenly there, tall and graceful, dark hair resting against her scales, with three rings of water slowly turning around her shoulders like halos.

She raised one hand.

At once, the air in the entire lab changed.

[Ding!]

[Bound skill relayed: Fluid Dominion. Localized pressure sphere established.]

[Hostile structural integrity: degrading.]

"The deep," Thalassa said, "does not carry screams."

An enormous pressure suddenly filled the laboratory.

It felt like four thousand meters of deep ocean water pressing down on everything in the room.

The Choir screamed with all three heads, but the pressure trapped the sound and turned it into large silver bubbles.

Glub. Glub. Glk.

The bubbles floated upward and burst against the ceiling.

"What... what is this?" Malakor asked in disbelief.

His arms dropped to his sides.

But the golems continued attacking, ignoring his confusion.

The strider-golem struggled against the crushing pressure. Half its legs began to buckle, but the remaining ones pushed it forward.

It raised its bone cleaver and swung at Joel.

Joel had already calculated its movements.

CRUNCH!

He raised his forearm and blocked the attack.

His boots slid barely two centimeters across the floor.

But the blow caused him no pain.

All he felt was the force of the impact being absorbed by his defenses.

[Ding!]

[Aegis Frame: kinetic impact absorbed and banked.]

"Force stored," Joel said.

Then he returned the attack with a straight punch, releasing all the energy his defenses had absorbed.

KRA-THOOM!

His fist struck the drowned boy’s chest.

The golem flew backward across the floor and slammed into the wall of glass tanks, cracking one of the panes.

Glug.

The liquid inside the tank shook slightly.

Before it could settle, Nyx appeared above the fallen golem.

She raised her blade and brought it down in one clean strike.

Shhlick.

[Ding!]

[Threat neutralized: Flesh-Golem x1. Experience awarded.]

At that moment, the doorway-golem charged straight at Vulcan with its head lowered, its massive body moving at full speed.

Vulcan crossed his forearms and caught the attack.

THWOOM!

The glowing cracks in his armor flared bright white.

Then he began striking the golem.

KRRUNCH! KRRUNCH! THWOOM!

Each punch crushed more of its body.

The stitched muscles melted under the intense heat, while its bones glowed red before breaking apart.

The girl’s face attached to its body finally went still.

Vulcan pressed one burning palm against what remained of the creature and held it there.

TSSSSSSS!

Thick steam spread across the floor as the remaining flesh burned away.

[Ding!]

[Threat neutralized: Flesh-Golem x1. Experience awarded.]

The Choir stood frozen in place, its three faces struggling against the crushing pressure.

Thalassa watched it calmly, showing neither anger nor mercy.

Then she slowly closed her raised hand.

KRRK! POP!

The pressure suddenly increased, crushing the Choir from every direction.

Its three faces twisted in shock as its body collapsed inward, bones breaking and flesh folding together.

Within seconds, the massive creature had been crushed into a small lump of flesh that could fit inside its own ribcage.

Glk.

[Ding!]

[Threat neutralized: Flesh-Golem x1. Experience awarded.]

•••

Steam drifted through the laboratory as the crushing pressure remained steady.

Inside one of the drained tanks, a creature tapped the glass twice before going still.

Malakor stood at the far end of the room, his once-kind eyes now cold and emotionless.

"Remarkable," he finally said, his voice still warm. "I take back what I said about you being foolish. It seems I’ve discovered something truly extraordinary."

His expression showed a growing interest in Joel’s abilities.

Suddenly, the sleeves of his clothes began tearing apart.

RRRIP!

Beneath them was something far from human.

Layers of hard bone covered his arms, while strange pieces of living flesh moved beneath his skin. His forearms began changing shape, splitting and growing into new forms.

The Level 50 professor was finally revealing his true power.

Joel calmly walked toward him, passing through the drifting steam and broken remains of the golems.

He had already taken Malakor’s research.

Now it was time to deal with the professor himself.

"No need, Professor," Joel said with a faint smile. "I’ve already decided your grade."

Office hours had officially begun.