Chapter 913: Deep Web (2)

A message board on the deep web where only diamond-level members could post.

Not many posts were made each day, but it was a place that garnered an unrivaled number of views and buzz within the community.

As every member with posting privileges was someone whose identity and abilities were guaranteed, it was only natural that the information they mentioned drew attention.

It was not uncommon in this network, a gathering place for the dregs of the underworld, for the messenger to be considered more important than the message.

Click.

After typing at high speed, he moved the mouse, inserting the prepared video and graphs in order.

[Title: 3rd Analysis of the Domain deployed by Evan Martinez, a.k.a. ‘Flame Flower’]

Even after inserting the charts, the sound of typing continued for a long while.

=The amount of mana emitted by Cheonbeon during the decisive battle appears to be enough to single-handedly power a small-to-medium-sized city. =Estimated output is off-the-charts special grade. Unmeasurable by the standards used to measure a caster’s mana capacity. =Each petal is woven from at least tens of thousands of strands, and it is confirmed that this entire construction occurred simultaneously with the Domain’s deployment.

A brief supplementary explanation to interpret each video, photo, and graph.

=The six symmetrical petals correspond to the six Mana Cores possessed by Cheonbeon. =The externalized Mana Core fabrication technology possessed by Cheonbeon appears to be particularly sophisticated and stable, even among those publicly known. =If the evidence that he used the heat source he himself emitted as a core is certain, the production time is estimated to be drastically shorter.

Tap, tap, tap.

=Synthesizing all these processes, the ability of Cheonbeon’s Domain is Core Meltdown (爐心融解), which forcibly unifies the six Heat Cores. =While it requires a very long preheating time, the structure and conclusion of the spellcraft definitively imitate the principle of nuclear fusion (核融合).

The post’s author added one last sentence before immediately hitting the submit button.

=Therefore, it can be concluded that without external variables, Cheonbeon’s probability of defeat would have been much lower than before.

Beep.

The post was registered at the very top of the deep web with a small beep.

With every refresh, the view count began to increase by the thousands, and dozens of comments started to appear below it.

└This analysis freak is back again. Don’t you ever get tired of it? └Still, he brought a conclusion this time. Last time it was just stirring shit up with statistics. └Still bitching about a fight that’s already over. Adamant Thunder won, why can’t you accept it?

The particularly edgy comment sparked a debate that instantly erupted in the comment section.

└Because some weird monster cut in and ruined the fight, you moron. You think you could accept that? └I can accept it. If Adamant Thunder hadn’t held back, Cheonbeon would’ve died on the spot. What kind of nonsense is that? └The point is that might not have happened in the first place. Why are you pretending not to get it? └Because I don’t want to talk to idiots who bring ‘ifs’ into a fight?

Most of it was filled with meaningless personal attacks, but there were also those who seriously analyzed the content of the post.

└Still, the analysis in the post has many interesting points. The addendum on the Mana Core, in particular, has the smell of an expert. └Core Meltdown and nuclear fusion. Those two phenomena aren’t the same thing in the first place. The evidence seems a bit lacking to draw that conclusion. └Anyone have the links to this guy’s 1st and 2nd analysis charts? I’ll give you my treasured fox_lover emoticon.

At those words, the comment section began to be spammed with emoticons of a little fox scurrying around, causing other members to post in alarm.

└Fucking stop. └If you spam that emoticon, he gets all excited and shows up. I haven’t even finished reading the main post yet. └What’s so cute about that crazy uploader that someone made an emoticon of it? So many psychopaths. └Looks like you’re looking for the post, but it’s gone now. It got reported into oblivion by other members and deleted. └This trash community had a sound function like reporting and deleting? └Well, most of the guys who post here have either been beaten by Adamant Thunder or know someone who has. You think they’d accept that Adamant Thunder could have lost?

The moment Adamant Thunder’s name came up, the atmosphere of the comments quickly turned hostile again.

└He’s got a whole damn fan club. I never thought this shitty site could get any shittier. └The betting is over. You think posting this crap now is gonna affect the payout? └It’s because they can’t admit that Cheonbeon could have won. That’s all. └Why should I admit something that isn’t true? The fact is, Adamant Thunder opened the sky and split that Flame Flower or Flame Fortress or whatever it was. └The point is… if the nuclear fusion spellcraft had been properly completed, the fight might not have ended that way…

Even though several weeks had passed since the decisive battle between Adamant Thunder and Cheonbeon, there were still too many unresolved questions surrounding the fight.

As if they needed to vent their frustrations about the unfinished match here, the atmosphere in the comments remained endlessly sharp despite the passage of time.

└It’s always the skill-less losers who flap their gums pretending they have a keen eye. This is why I hate v1s debates. But why is v/s a banned word? └If you have a problem, let’s talk in person. Why do weaklings try to act like experts? └Send your address. You think I won’t show up if you say we should meet? └Wow, are they gonna meet up and fight over this? Are they really this pathetic? └Post an update after you meet.

As the views and comments exploded, the traffic on that board also increased exponentially.

Following the flow of information rapidly converging in one direction, sparks began to fly before Lennok’s eyes.

Crackle, crackle!

The faint sound of sparks flickered beyond his consciousness.

With a strange sensation, like a hammer being cocked behind his head, a bright light began to pour before his eyes.

A barrage of indiscriminate electrical signals that even Lennok couldn’t immediately comprehend.

Zz-zz-zz-zz-zz-zz-zzt!!

A violent wave of information, pouring in hundreds of thousands of times per second, roughly battered his consciousness.

An ordinary person’s brain would have probably burned out just by briefly connecting to this network.

But Lennok, even amidst the coarse and intense flow of signals flickering before him, remained perfectly upright without losing his mind.

It wasn’t because he was processing all the information with his transcendent mental fortitude or his peak-level computational ability.

The Dream-Thought Virtualscape, which physically constructs a cybernetic space in reality, fundamentally blocks the information pouring from cyberspace from interfering with the user’s consciousness.

This was possible because it wasn’t a method of directly connecting Lennok’s consciousness to the deep web, but rather of reproducing the deep web’s information within the domain of the Dream-Thought Virtualscape.

And, the first impression Lennok had upon directly connecting his consciousness to the deep web for the first time was—

“Utterly filthy.”

Zzzzzzzk…!!

All sorts of viruses, dummy data, and malicious codes cluttered his vision, causing it to stutter.

A formless cyberspace. The things consuming most of its capacity were nothing but the remnants of broken and twisted programs and software.

BEEBEEBEEBEEB!!

Dirty error code characters that felt like they would contaminate him with a single touch, and the warning messages of crimson-dyed ransomware flashed before his eyes thousands of times.

He was ignoring all the malicious codes operating from every direction, changing the cyberspace address in real-time.

Moving through the space of the network as Davi led, Lennok asked.

“Is it always like this when you look directly into a network?”

[Well. Except for the authenticated addresses directly under the city government’s central network, aren’t they all pretty similar?]

Davi, who was rapidly changing addresses to find a smooth connection point, replied.

[Security is only established when its form and scope are clearly defined. Everything outside the addresses authenticated by the central network is like this.]

“So you’ve been hacking by traversing spaces like this all the time?”

[I don’t do this unless it’s absolutely necessary. Most data can be traced back to its source after a few reverse-traces…]

The giant fox, its tail puffed up next to Lennok, nodded its head.

[Unless it’s something like a psionic network that requires specific software or special authorization to access, there’s no reason to move around killing defilers, is there?]

“…”

A brilliant wizard is not necessarily a brilliant programmer or hacker.

Moreover, the specialized terminology commonly used in this world’s cyberspace had become so independently specialized that even Lennok couldn’t understand it all.

Therefore, Lennok hadn’t understood even half of what Davi just said, but he didn’t press for a detailed explanation.

The senses with which a spirit born in cyberspace perceives and experiences the network were likely completely different from a human’s.

Perhaps if he asked the same question to a hacker of equivalent skill, he would receive a completely different answer.

“After we make contact with the deep web administrators, let’s prioritize finding the origin of the information they possess.”

Thus, Lennok focused on explaining to Davi the information that he could gauge.

“In the worst-case scenario, even if we can’t obtain the information itself, we must confirm the method they use to acquire it.”

There was a specific reason Lennok wanted the personal information of the Director and the Pontiff at this point.

Lapis’s failure to ultimately break through District 19, and his encounter with the Mayor at the end of the hearing.

It was because he had a thought that traces of Kaiser might remain not in another city, but within Vulcan’s own cyberspace.

The existence called Alkaid, which had been with Kaiser when the Black Consumer Project was underway.

Who they were, and at what point they had visited and left the city. The specific details were veiled in mystery, but it was clear that he had caught a sign of it.

Now that the administrators of the deep web had personally certified it, there was no reason to hesitate any longer.

But that didn’t mean he had to meekly agree to the deal they wanted.

“I’m supporting it with my mana, but the duration of the Dream-Thought Virtualscape is likely not as long as I thought. Let’s hurry.”

Davi had managed to deploy the Domain on her own, but Lennok was supplying the mana to maintain it.

However, even with the drastically increased mana pool, maintaining a Domain in reality for a long time required enduring a tremendous drain.

Even assuming he deployed the Domain within his own sphere of influence to augment casting efficiency, he wouldn’t be able to last that long.

But Davi heard his words and nodded confidently.

[Don’t worry. If the cybernetic lifeforms that contacted you, Master, have the skills to call themselves administrators, there’s no way they wouldn’t notice this volume of information moving at this speed— Ah, found it.]

“The administrators?”

[Ah… not that, but the address they gave us is here?]

At Davi’s bewildered words, Lennok raised his gaze and finally realized where in cyberspace they had just arrived.

“…A club?”

Thump-thump-thump-thump!!

Bwaaaaaaaah!!

Gaudy neon signs and loud EDM. Deafening screams and moans pounded his eardrums.

In a massive, endless club, thousands of people were dancing wildly, having lost their minds.

Waaaaaaaaah!!!

The crowd writhed and screamed with vacant expressions.

And, at the center of the packed crowd, a lone man was tapping away at a computer.

It was as if he occupied the spot where the club’s DJ should be, controlling the very atmosphere of this club.

The moment Lennok sensed that this man, unlike the mindless people in the club, possessed a clear ego.

“Ah, you’ve come.”

The man, glancing back, opened his mouth.

“You’re much faster than I thought. You didn’t happen to use an editor, did you?”

“…”

“Couldn’t be. In the first place, no algorithm or software works across this entire network.”

The man, answering his own question, looked down at the club scene and spoke.

“The traffic is increasing in real-time. At this rate, it’ll steal the central network’s allocation and disrupt the city’s signal flow.”

Even without a reply, he spoke in a deliberately cheerful tone.

“The City Council knows but does nothing. They know that the mere existence of the deep web can bury a lot of public opinion here. Now, not only the dregs of the underworld but countless officials from the overworld also spy on this place constantly. Here, anyone can hide their identity and act as they please.”

He wagged his finger.

“Just like the thousands of people who are arbitrarily backseat gaming and trying to draw conclusions about your decisive battle with Cheonbeon.”

“…”

“So, how was it?”

The man slowly spun his chair around and shrugged at Lennok.

“I’m also curious what the champion who shook the entirety of Vulcan thinks about the outcome of the last fight.”

“…”

Instead of answering, Lennok glanced around the man’s surroundings.

The middle of a vast club, not a quiet server room or a workshop with a computer.

But Lennok hadn’t forgotten that this place was not real, but within the deep web’s network, a visualization of cyberspace.

A cybernetic space constructed in reality through Davi’s Dream-Thought Virtualscape. The depths of the deep web, accessed by connecting to the network.

In other words, all the people gathered here were not humans with real bodies.

“Who are these people?”

“Ever heard of EB? Electronic Bouncer. Electra Buffer. It’s a type of electronic drug called by various names, a thing that slams electrical signals directly into the brain to provide a very intense hallucination.”

The man sat backwards on his chair, leaning his arms on the backrest as he spoke.

“If you take EB and connect to the network, the users can see and share the same hallucination. The electrical signals stimulating the brain react with the network and forcibly link their minds together. Then the users gather like this, occupy a virtual space, and party as much as they want.”

“…”

The man chuckled.

“I just lend them the spare space for the fun of watching these idiots, but they don’t give a damn that they’re dying in reality. They’re just enjoying the sensation of their own brains cooking from the electrical signals being slammed into them. Not that I’d deny that the sensation feels pretty good when you’re inside the network, though.”

“…”

“Well, in a way, it might be wise. They realized how meaningless reality is earlier than others. They just didn’t know the method, so they couldn’t make a wise choice. Precocious kids often cause bigger trouble, don’t they? By that logic, this network is still subordinate to reality. No, is it the other way around?”

Listening to him, he was so talkative it was truly exhausting.

Even as he rattled on like a machine gun, most of his words were just personal impressions or meaningless fantasies.

But he seemed somewhat intoxicated by his own speech.

“Innate talent or background, birth or connections, sources of money—none of it means anything here. All that’s needed is the minimum capacity to maintain consciousness in this broken network.”

The man’s eyes, watching Lennok from behind his sunglasses, shone strangely.

“Otherwise, how could a guy like me dare to face the greatest genius in Vulcan’s history?”

“…”

“But I have to admit, your ability is far more outstanding than I thought. I never imagined you’d access the deep web without using a normal line or network at all. I’ve been trying to reverse-trace your network connection path since a moment ago, but I can’t even get a coordinate. How on earth did you do it?”

“You.”

Lennok, who had been listening to the man without a word, spoke.

“You’re not the administrator I spoke with directly.”

“…”

“It’s subtle, but the speed and reaction of your responses are different. Where are the other administrators?”

For a moment, for the first time, the man fell silent. Lennok raised his gaze.

The ear-splitting music and cheers echoed all around.

But ignoring the external noise, what Lennok had been searching for was something else entirely.

From Jenny’s explanation, he knew that the deep web had more than one administrator.

So, were the other administrators not here, with only this one waiting for Lennok?

“There’s been a misunderstanding. We don’t manage this entire vast, illegal network. To be precise, we find interpretable areas within the network and restructure them to function as communities.”

The man shrugged.

“We each manage different parts, and we have to reroute our addresses a few times to avoid being traced, so it takes a little time. I’d appreciate it if you’d wait with some patience.”

“Wait?”

Lennok’s gaze turned cold.

“Do you think that’s something the party who contacted me first should be saying?”

“…In reality, you must have been a superhuman who always stood in a superior position. I understand why you’d act that way.”

The man, flinching for a moment at that sharp-edged intensity, let out a faint smile.

“But I can’t give you special treatment just for you here. I don’t have the leeway for that. Forcing me to do the impossible won’t make the processing speed any faster.”

“…”

As expected, there was a sense of dissonance in this administrator’s attitude.

A vague demeanor that seemed to dislike Lennok, yet continually tried to engage him in conversation.

Even when pressured with strong words, instead of rebelling or submitting, he tried to provoke Lennok in return.

Just as Lennok was observing the administrator’s less-than-friendly reaction.

The administrator, pretending it was nothing, manipulated the computer and asked.

“If you’re really bored, shall we have a little bet? There’s a game we enjoy for fun. We often use it to make decisions when our opinions clash over the community’s direction.”

“…”

Just as Lennok was about to ignore him, the man spoke again.

“If you win, I’ll reveal one of the pieces of information we’ve prepared for this deal ahead of time. However, if I win, you have to grant me one personal favor.”

“A favor…”

Upon hearing that, Lennok, having seen through the administrator’s intentions, smirked.

“It wasn’t a coincidence that you came out first and were waiting for me.”

“Think whatever you want. But your opinion will change once you see the value of the information I have.”

The man smiled, loading a screen and showing it to Lennok.

“The topics scheduled for discussion at the [High-Level Summit] you are scheduled to attend. Have you never been curious?”

“…”

“The position of the Priestess within the Guido Cult, which has suddenly become vacant recently. How about the next candidates?”

To the silent Lennok, the man gave a meaningful smile.

“Or, how about the fact that there is someone among the Cult’s Apostles who was ordered to assassinate Adamant Thunder?”

“…”

“Take your time and think it over, we have plenty of it. I’m just curious to confirm the capabilities of a great wizard who possesses cyber-interference abilities so outstanding they even surprised the administrators.”

“Such a shameless excuse with your true intentions laid bare.”

Lennok asked with a cold smile.

“What game do you use for the bet?”

“There are several. Any test to gauge one’s ability to intervene in cyberspace is possible, like network backups, hacking module creation, or deleted data recovery.”

The administrator said, bringing up a catalog on the monitor.

With a natural gesture, the administrator sorted the games by difficulty and spoke.

“But the one I’d like to recommend is the one known to be the most difficult among them: the [AI Maze].”

“AI Maze?”

“It’s a game where you create an artificial intelligence to pass through a maze made of cybernized firewalls and security, and compete to see who reaches the finish line first.”

“…”

When Lennok fell silent, the administrator smirked as if he’d expected it.

“Perhaps this is too esoteric? Creating an AI or writing an algorithm probably isn’t your area of expertise, so if you want, we can go with the easier [Spell-Response Analysis Module]—”

“Let’s do the AI Maze.”

“Right, if this one also feels too difficult, I can’t help— What did you say?”

“Did you say it’s a game of creating an artificial intelligence? Let’s start right away.”

Artificial intelligence and algorithm creation ability.

A cyber-spirit who was more specialized in that field than anyone else was, at this very moment, diligently collecting fox_lover emoticons right beside Lennok.

Seeing the administrator’s bewildered expression, Lennok nodded with a frigid smile.

“That will be the fastest way to finish before the other administrators arrive.”