Chapter 539: Immersed in the Network

Amber circled around the oddly shaped chair—its design bizarre, the style strange, and it all gave off a distinctly suspicious vibe. After several rounds, she looked at Gawain with a doubtful expression. “You mean, with this thing, we can hack into the Sleeper’s… what was it? The psychic network?”

Gawain chuckled. “Not just hack into the Sleeper’s psychic network—this is merely a connection device. If we want, we could even use it to build our own ‘psychic network.’ Of course, that would require a whole lot of these devices.”

“It looks weird…” Amber muttered, “Feels like some kind of sacrificial altar for an evil ritual. You sit down, flames burst out, and you get offered up to some dark god right then and there.”

No one knew where she got her wild imagination from…

Gawain ignored Amber’s whispered muttering and turned to Pittman. “Is this thing ready to use now?”

“The human testing for connecting to the arcane network has passed—after all, neural cables and communication runes are relatively mature technologies, so the ‘connection’ itself isn’t much of a problem. But we haven’t tested connecting to the psychic network yet,” Pittman said. “Connecting to the psychic network carries additional risks.”

Gawain knew exactly what Pittman meant by “additional risks.”

This connection device was cutting-edge tech on Earth, but here it was just a product assembled from a bunch of mature technologies. Advanced, yes, but not exactly top-tier. With Pittman, an industry insider, personally overseeing the process, the device itself wasn’t very risky to operate. The real danger lay in the exposure risk when using it to connect to the Sleeper’s psychic network.

Gawain himself never feared exposure when connecting to the psychic network. That was because he had a genuine “identification port” belonging to the Sleepers—something he had devoured—and later, through brute-force hacking and database reconstruction, he had arranged a “legitimate identity” for himself. No matter how the Sleepers upgraded their security, he was always in a blind spot of their system. But this device in front of him… could it really bypass the psychic network’s security?

Gawain had once placed Daniel within the Sleeper’s upper echelons and used that privilege to build the entire psychic network’s security system, leaving backdoors in place. But so far, no third-party port besides himself had tested whether those backdoors actually worked.

Theoretically, it should be fine. But since this was the first test, both Pittman and Gawain had to be cautious.

If they failed and the Sleeper’s leadership detected this intrusion, all of Gawain’s schemes relying on the psychic network wouldn’t just be exposed—they’d become far riskier overnight.

Gawain slowly scanned the entire lab.

Besides Kamail, Pittman, Rebecca, and Jenny—the “scientific quartet”—there were a dozen or so researchers present.

All familiar faces.

They were elite apprentices and assistants personally selected and nurtured by Kamail and the others. Since they were involved in such a highly confidential project, their loyalty had been thoroughly vetted. Looking into their eyes, Gawain asked, “Who’s going first?”

He couldn’t be the test subject himself—his mental structure was far too unique, already beyond the scope of “human,” and he had high-level privileges in the psychic network. Testing himself would be pointless. So the first person to sit in the chair and immerse themselves in the psychic network had to be someone else present.

“I will.”

Pittman stepped forward naturally, wearing that trademark mischievous grin of his.

Judging by the reactions of the others, this was clearly a prearranged decision.

“You?” Gawain glanced at the little old man. “What’s your reason?”

“The core component of this device was built by me. No one understands it better,” Pittman said calmly. “And as for other reasons… you can probably guess.”

Gawain nodded slightly, understanding Pittman’s meaning.

Pittman had once been a Sleeper himself. Though he had lost the Sleeper’s powers, his knowledge remained.

If something went wrong during the network intrusion, he had that knowledge to detect danger early and, at the very least, knew how to escape.

“Then get ready,” Gawain exhaled. “I’ll make sure ‘the other side’ is prepared as well.”

…

In the City of Dreams, within the palace district at the city’s heart, Daniel walked quietly through a magnificent hall, clad in a black robe.

In this dream world where everyone wore masks, he was no longer the hunched, aged, and ugly fading mage. Instead, he appeared as a tall, strong, and dignified middle-aged man.

He wore a classical yet ornate black robe, his expression serious, his steps steady. A thick tome of magic floated beside him, from which a respectful voice reported continuously: “The second batch of address indexes has been fully imported… the new database tests completed successfully… the sudden interruption in Block 63 was traced to a nightmare tutor who, while exploring ancient ruins, accidentally fell into a trap and died on the spot. He was performing a block transfer operation at the time…”

Daniel paused briefly. “Exploring ancient ruins while conducting critical operations in the psychic network?”

“That nightmare tutor was always highly skilled…”

“Such dangerous behavior is forbidden from now on. All network commands must be executed in stable environments,” Daniel said sternly. “Furthermore, all major operations involving database changes or network restructuring must be performed by at least two operators jointly, to prevent network failures caused by sudden deaths.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

Now promoted to Nightmare Bishop, Daniel nodded slightly and continued forward, listening to his subordinate’s report at a measured pace.

To reach the imperial capital and complete his master’s orders—such as infiltrating the Typhon research department—he had rarely had the chance to enter the psychic network recently. When he did connect, it was only to report his status to the Sleeper’s highest echelons, to avoid suspicion or jeopardizing his position. Now that he had settled in Aldern, established a secret lab, and secured a relatively safe environment, he finally had the opportunity to return to the psychic network and resume his duties—and fulfill his master’s commands.

Along the way, other high-ranking cultists passed through the corridors. Most stopped briefly to offer greetings:

“May your soul find peace, Bishop.”

“May your dreams be eternal, Bishop.”

“Salutations, Master Daniel.”

Daniel responded according to his mood.

Lower-ranking cultists addressed him as Bishop, while peers sometimes called each other Bishop or Master—within the Sleeper cult, these titles signified enviable prestige. Daniel had once yearned for such status, dedicating himself to dark magic and climbing the ranks.

But now that he held these titles, he cared little for them.

He was the Sleeper cult’s rising star, a pioneer who had proposed multiple groundbreaking concepts in the psychic network field, a genius scholar valued by the High Bishopric and even noticed by the Pope himself. Yet all these titles paled in comparison to being the “Messenger of the Outer Wanderer.”

He maintained a proud posture as he walked down the hall, and no one doubted his arrogance—it was his usual demeanor, and he had earned the right.

Suddenly, Daniel stopped.

He stood still for a moment, then tilted his head slightly and said to the floating grimoire, “That’s enough reporting for now. I need to go there in person.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

The grimoire slowly vanished into thin air. Daniel calmly approached a crystal panel at the corridor’s end and placed his hand on it.

In the next instant, his figure shifted from the corridor into a vast chamber.

Calling it a “room” was a stretch—it was a peculiar space. Though it had a white floor and a pale golden ceiling, there were no walls. Instead, a thick, unyielding mist surrounded the area. Numerous pale blue and lavender crystal prisms grew at an angle from the mist, forming a neat, orderly array around the chamber. Many Sleeper cultists, dressed in pale gold or white robes, busied themselves around the crystals, monitoring the massive data flow of the psychic network.

This doorless, windowless space was a special place within the psychic network world, accessible only with special teleportation codes and identification keys. It was a source of pride for Daniel—

This was the “Network Security and Data Center” he had built for the Sleepers.

Constructed under his master’s orders.

Most cultists inside didn’t leave their posts upon Daniel’s arrival. They simply turned respectfully, saluted, and returned to work. Only a few approached him, one bowing his head: “Bishop.”

Daniel raised a hand. “Continue your work. I’ll personally review the recent security logs. Do not disturb me.”

“Yes.”

The others withdrew. Daniel strolled to one of the crystal prisms growing from the mist and placed his hand on its top. The crystal lit up, projecting a complex array of tables and runes.

Here, no one questioned Bishop Daniel’s actions. These were his most loyal Sleeper subordinates. Yet even they had no clearance to access the Outer Wanderer’s affairs.

Daniel quietly scanned the data, monitoring all security channels. Amid the flickering runes and symbols, a footnote appeared—one only he could notice.

The entire system gave no response to this unregistered information.

Daniel’s expression remained unchanged. Then a strange voice came from behind him: “Oh ho, not bad… they really managed to pull all this off…”

Daniel turned to see a disheveled stranger standing behind him—a man in a brown robe, wrinkled face, hunched posture, hair and beard wild. The stranger wore a mocking smile as he looked around. He stood there brazenly, yet the cultists passing by seemed oblivious to this “intruder,” continuing their work as if nothing was amiss.

The data cloaking in this area had been activated.

Daniel left the crystal console and approached Pittman—yet to the other Sleepers, he still appeared to be standing in place, browsing the massive logs without a hint of abnormality.

So this was another of the Lord’s subordinates?

Another messenger of the Outer Wanderer?

Pittman and Daniel exchanged glances, both silently sharing the same thought.

Then the two old foxes laughed.

Pittman’s wrinkles smoothed as he said, “For security, let’s exchange a code.”

Daniel nodded slightly. “A loyal hymn.”

“A loyal hymn.”

Their hands clasped tightly, voices in unison: “For the great cause.”

(End of chapter)