Young Kadisha Allister and Shuri.
The two, dressed in white, walked through a perfectly angular space, inspecting this illusory realm with me.
“So, this is the new orphanage you’re talking about?”
“Yes.”
“It’s less like an orphanage… and more like some ideal ‘laboratory.’”
Instructor Kadisha immediately recognized the true nature of the so-called orphanage.
“That’s right. This is a laboratory designed to raise exceptional individuals. If we’re to give it a more official name, we might call it the ‘Hero Training Facility.’”
“Hero Training Facility…”
“And structurally, it’s quite similar to the Old School Building. No, in essence, they’re the same.”
“Hold on.”
Kadisha stopped walking.
Beyond a corridor lined with transparent walls, a space resembling a miniature amusement park stretched out. Inside, children in white clothes played.
“What is this place…?”
“They’re seedlings. This is where they undergo various training sessions to raise exceptional individuals, and where they practice mana training among themselves.”
“This is…”
“Exactly. It’s very similar to places like the Thieves’ Guild or the Magic Towers where children are also raised.”
“…”
Kadisha’s pupils trembled.
But her emotional agitation wasn’t from trauma of the past, nor from disgust at the cruel and extreme conditions unfolding before her.
“This is…”
“A place that pursues efficiency to the extreme. Exceptional samples are continually used as research material. Those deemed unfit are discarded. Though it bears the name of an orphanage, it’s quite a brutal place.”
“…”
“Instructor Kadisha?”
“Y-Yeah… I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Of course she’d be shaken.
Because this was the kind of environment she had once imagined… but had never dared to create.
[The End of the Laboratory].
It’s not exactly the same, but the fundamental idea—an environment for raising children with superior genes and talent—is nearly identical.
As in many horror games or sci-fi fantasies, facilities that extract and cultivate only the most exceptional children are inevitably built somewhere by those who pursue rationality and efficiency, devoid of emotion.
“Um, Phoenix? What are those numbers on the children’s necks?”
Shuri pointed beyond the glass at the children playing.
On each of their necks was a barcode and a number. Each had a different serial number.
“That would be their personal ID number. And, at the same time, it’s also their name.”
“Their name…?”
“Yes, their name.”
“How can a number be a name?”
“If a name is something given by your parents the moment you’re born, then yes, that’s their name.”
“……!!”
“And even if they were born with names like Isaac, Peter, or Sam, once they enter this facility, they are given an ID number as their name. That’s just how it works here.”
“They were going to… create something like this? In Esdinas Academy?”
“It almost was created.”
I lightly tapped my temple.
“Because this was an early conceptual model for Esdinas Academy envisioned by one of the Four Founders, the Sage and Alchemist, Allister, in his younger days.”
“…By the Sage?”
“Yes, Instructor Kadisha.”
Feigning ignorance despite knowing.
“The original image the Sage had of a ‘Hero Training Facility’ was exactly this. A place where emotions are thoroughly excluded, and heroes are raised to devote themselves solely to humanity.”
“……”
To Kadisha Allister, this must be genuinely shocking.
That her ancestor, the Sage, had conceived such a thing.
That the Sage she knew, and the version I was showing her, were so starkly different.
“Instructor. If you put aside compassion, emotion, and moral ethics—how does this facility look to you?”
“…At least in terms of raising heroes, I have to admit it’s so perfect, I almost feel embarrassed criticizing it.”
And that’s precisely why Kadisha herself was all the more shaken.
Because she had once considered similar ideas.
“Phoenix. You know the answer, don’t you?”
“I only know what I know.”
“If the Sage had this idea, it must’ve been because he thought it was the most ideal and perfect outcome. But this—this isn’t Esdinas Academy. Why not?”
“To answer that, we should start with the conclusion.”
Ahead.
Two researchers in white coats are arguing.
“Because humans are all different. Not every human is purely rational or perfectly calculating. Even the researchers working in a place like this.”
“Was it you who administered the drug to Test Subject 345?!”
Up ahead—
“That drug is too potent for the children to endure! Didn’t we already say that?”
“You make it sound like I’m some kind of villain. Weren’t you the one who developed that drug?”
The two men were locked in a heated argument.
“I did develop it! But it’s still too dangerous to administer to children! Forcing chest growth like that could be life-threatening!”
“If it fails, just discard them. We can produce new kids every ten months, can’t we?”
“You bastard…!”
“Hah. I didn’t expect the lead researcher to react this way. Seeing the test subjects call you ‘teacher’ and cling to you—are you starting to think of them as your real students?”
“!!”
“Get a grip. We are apostles of knowledge, funded by massive research grants to satisfy our intellectual curiosity. The future of humanity rests in our hands. The sacrifice of those children will lead to the survival of the species. Got it?”
“Grr…”
“H-Hiiiek…!”
“Who’s there?!”
As the two researchers raised their voices in argument, Shuri let out a startled cry, causing both men to flinch in surprise.
Instructor Kadisha and Shuri quickly huddled close to me in confusion. I extended a hand behind me, motioning to them reassuringly.
“Hello there. Another hard day at work, I see.”
“Ah—Professor!”
“…You’ve arrived.”
The researcher who had been speaking passionately about humanity’s mission greeted me with delight, while the one who had voiced concern over drug overdoses lowered his head with a look of discomfort.
“How’s your paper coming along?”
“Eh…?”
“I’m asking because it seems to be going well. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t have time to be shouting in here, now would you? Don’t you think so, Professor?”
I turned to Instructor Kadisha with a half-grin as I extended my hand.
For a moment, Kadisha looked puzzled at the word “Professor,” but then her expression shifted to something serious, and she responded, eyes forward.
“You’re right, Professor Phoenix. Doesn’t look like they need my proofreading anymore. Or are they maybe working on a new research topic? Impressive. Need a supervising professor for it, perhaps?”
“N-No, that’s not it! Professor, we were just…!”
Seeing the flustered researcher, Kadisha smirked knowingly.
Exactly.
“Associate Professor Shuri. What do you think?”
“M-Me? I mean… I’m just in charge of analyzing the illustrations that go into the thesis, so… as long as the growth diagrams of the test subjects aren’t wrong…”
“You heard that, right? If the data’s even slightly off in the illustrations…”
“I-I’ll correct it immediately!”
The researcher bowed hastily and hurried off.
“What’s wrong, Chief Researcher? Got something to say?”
“…Professor. About the drug dosages being administered to the children… Couldn’t we adjust the amount?”
The chief researcher spoke hesitantly, as if weighed down by a dilemma.
“The current dosage is too high for children of this age group. Even if we call these experiments ‘miracles’ for the kids, if we keep going at this rate, it could trigger unnatural phenomena. They may become heroes… but they might carry the side effects with them for life.”
“Hm…”
“I-I’ll write a thesis on it, if that’s what it takes. Isn’t it also important to study potential side effects? So…”
“Very well. Give it a try.”
“!!”
I stepped closer and patted him on the shoulder.
“I’ll fund the project. But you’ll need to gather your own research team. And as for the children… you know what to do.”
“Yes! I will teach them as a kind and compassionate orphanage teacher. I’ll make sure none of them ever suspect they’re actually lab rats in an experiment!”
“Good. I’ll look forward to your results. I’d… rather not see any samples go to waste either.”
“Thank you, Professor!”
Once the chief researcher had left, only Kadisha, Shuri, and I remained in the room.
“…This is still an illusion, right?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Feels like I’m watching an exact recreation of some future scene.”
“Something like that.”
In truth, it was a simulation from the Demon World.
That chief researcher was actually a high-ranking demon, acting according to the script and dialogue Changyeom and I had prepared.
The scene had been stored as a memory in my mind, and I had simply used illusion and suggestion to reproduce it here as accurately as possible.
“Um, I have a question.”
“What is it, Miss Shuri? If you’re asking whether you could turn this into an illustration, of course you could. So long as you have enough mana.”
“…That too, but I meant something else.”
Shuri pointed toward the children behind the glass wall.
“What exactly are they researching here? I mean, if they’re worrying about side effects to the children’s growth, yet still pouring this much funding into it…”
“Kyun-Kyun~?”
“…Huh?”
“They’re conducting research to create humanity’s last hope by producing exceptional beings.”
I pointed toward the children.
“How should I put it… Yes. You could call this a laboratory for creating Magical Girl Soldiers.”
A place to raise heroes capable of overcoming the Apocalypse brought about by the angels.
“You could say it’s a facility for producing the KV Warriors.”
