Chapter 540: Extending the Technology

Inside the Mind-Link Technology Laboratory, the old druid Pittman lay quietly in the sleek silver chair.

Runes etched into the base of the seat pulsed rhythmically, while a faint pale blue glow shimmered along the artificial neural cords connecting the base to the neural contact array. A low, steady hum emanated from within the device—the sound of resonant vibrations between the rune plates. Pittman’s eyes remained tightly shut, as if he had slipped into the deepest of slumbers.

“He’s connected to the network now,” Gawain said. “He’s communicating with the operatives inside.”

“Connection stable. Frequency alignment normal,” Kamail reported from a nearby console, his gaze flickering over the shifting runes. “No signs of exposure so far.”

“Vital signs steady. Neural pressure within safe limits.” “Emergency cutoff functioning normally.” “Continuous brain activity monitoring ongoing.”

A series of status updates echoed throughout the lab, and everyone around the device visibly relaxed.

Amber muttered under her breath, “Whew—I thought the old man was going to die in there.”

Though she often teased Pittman without a shred of respect, Gawain could tell that Amber cared more than she let on—after all, Pittman was almost like a foster father to her.

Gawain turned his attention to Jenny, who stood quietly nearby. “The Sleeper’s rune system can also be optimized and restructured using rune logic, right?”

“Yes… yes,” Jenny replied quickly. “We had some trouble recalibrating the interference values at first, but in the end, we confirmed that the Sleeper’s rune system still follows the principles of rune logic. Plus, the inverse array technology can be applied to this connection device…”

“The Sleeper… their dark divine arts are similar to druidic magic, also derived from divine power,” Gawain mused thoughtfully. “The gods… your veil grows thinner with each passing day…”

“Test time complete. Preparing to transmit prompt message… Prompt sent. Received brainwave feedback from subject… Disconnecting neural cords.”

The technician controlling the connection device suddenly spoke, interrupting Gawain’s reverie. The resonant hum gradually deepened and then faded, and the runic glow at the base of the silver chair dimmed.

Pittman lay still for a moment before suddenly opening his eyes. Then, as if remembering how to breathe again, he began gasping deeply, his frail body wheezing like an old bellows. After several long seconds, he finally steadied himself and exhaled with relief. “Ah… it feels good to be back in my body.”

“The first time you disconnect from the mind network, you usually experience dizziness and a sense of weightlessness,” Gawain nodded as an assistant helped the old druid out of the chair. Then his expression grew serious. “But before anything else, for the sake of rigor and safety, we need to confirm one thing…”

Kamail floated over from the monitoring station to stand beside the device.

Gawain looked into Pittman’s eyes. “We need proof that you’re still Pittman, and not some Sleeper infiltrator who slipped in through the network.”

“Good luck ointment, two silver coins a bottle! Limited edition talismans, buy two get one free! First three fortune-telling sessions half price! Free name consultations!”

Half the people present covered their faces and turned away. Kamail’s glow dimmed by nearly thirty percent. Only Gawain smiled and stepped forward to grasp Pittman’s hand. “Welcome back to Cecil. Any discomfort besides the dizziness?”

Pittman was, after all, an extraordinary being. After standing by the cabin for a moment and taking a few breaths, he recovered. Then he frowned thoughtfully. “No major aftereffects, but… could we change the handshake code? It’s a bit embarrassing for an old man like me…”

“A seven hundred and thirty-seven-year-old old man designed your handshake code, and you’re under eighty-seven—what’s there to be embarrassed about?” Amber shot a glance at the little old man before anyone else could respond, silencing both elders on the spot. “And you actually have a concept of ‘embarrassment’?”

Pittman: “…”

Gawain: “…”

“Tell us about what you experienced during the connection,” Gawain said, sensing the atmosphere growing awkward and quickly clearing his throat to steer the conversation back on track. “Which layer did you infiltrate? What did you see? Were you intercepted or scanned by any security systems?”

The technical staff immediately gathered around, their eyes full of curiosity and anticipation as they looked at Pittman. After a brief moment to collect his thoughts, Pittman spoke calmly and deliberately.

“I believe I penetrated what’s called the ‘consciousness flat layer.’ It’s the domain of the Dream City, where all surface-level consciousness converges. Most of the connection was without visual input—only fragmented hallucinations appeared intermittently. I must have completely bypassed the security mechanisms, or rather, the security systems simply ignored my connection…”

Pittman recounted his observations during the entire connection process. Everyone listened intently—even Amber, who rarely sat still, widened her eyes in fascination and didn’t miss a word.

“In summary, I believe our first phase of live testing was a complete success. The connection device is stable and reliable, and the ‘secure channel’ is equally dependable,” Pittman concluded. “Next, we should consider multiple simultaneous connections.”

Gawain nodded slightly and looked to Rebecca. “Is mass production of this connection device feasible at this stage?”

“Currently, it’s difficult,” Rebecca admitted, looking troubled. “Some key components can only be manufactured in the lab—for example, the organic medium rings in the artificial neural cords. The process is too complex, requiring frequent adjustments with magical devices and a certain level of druidic knowledge. Factory workers probably don’t have the necessary skills yet, and training enough qualified technicians will take time.”

In most cases, the main bottleneck for mass production of new technology in Cecil isn’t machine precision. Thanks to Nicholas’s foundational work, industrial machinery here has solved most precision issues from the start. The real long-term challenge is skilled labor.

After all, humans aren’t machines. Training a large, systematic workforce of skilled technicians takes time.

“Take it slow. It’s not realistic to roll this out to the entire population right away…” Gawain sighed, accepting the reality. “For now, produce them in the lab and assemble enough units for a single project team. You can decide the exact number based on actual needs.”

“For a single project team…” Kamail caught a hint in Gawain’s words. “Are you planning to conduct experimental projects within the Sleeper’s mind network?”

“Doesn’t that sound great?” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “Such advanced technology should be used for research. Using it just for daydreaming would be a waste.”

Kamail paused briefly, then bent slightly with a smile. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Then we should give this connection device a name,” Gawain nodded, pointing at the silver chair—or rather, the cabin. “Any suggestions?”

Pittman and Jenny exchanged glances—everyone except Kamail, whose expression was harder to read—before they all looked back at Gawain.

“We think it should be named by you,” Jenny said with a respectful smile. “Although it’s our creation, all the related technologies were gathered by you through various channels, and most of the project’s inspiration came from you. It’s only fitting that you name it.”

Though Gawain wanted to say that the glory of technology should belong to its inventors, upon reflection, most of the tech in this connection device originated from the Sleeper cultists. So he didn’t protest and instead stared at the silver chair, lost in thought.

A touch of dark humor crept into his mind.

After all, this thing’s vibe was anything but normal.

“Immersive Neural Cabin,” Gawain finally said, settling on a name that fit the device’s character. “Let’s call it the Immersive Neural Cabin—shortened to Immersion Cabin. How does that sound?”

“Immersive Neural Cabin…” Kamail repeated the makeshift term. Though it sounded a bit odd, those few words perfectly captured the device’s essence. He nodded approvingly. “A good name.”

Gawain and Amber left the Arcane Technology Institute, accompanied by Pittman, who was heading back to rest.

The streets of Cecil City remained bustling and vibrant.

“That’s a magnificent city,” Pittman suddenly remarked as they walked. “Truly beautiful.”

“The Dream City?” Gawain stopped and glanced at the old man. “Be careful. First-timers often get lost in it.”

“I won’t,” Pittman winked and smiled. “That city is indeed beautiful—almost perfect. But precisely because it’s too perfect, I’m not drawn to it. Its perfection scares me.”

Gawain shook his head and resumed walking. “A world too perfect makes one think of the legendary paradise people supposedly reach after death. Entering such a city while alive would indeed be unsettling.”

Pittman’s curiosity was piqued. “You have experience? Is there really a perfect paradise after death?”

“…I was just making a metaphor.”

They passed the edge of the Mage District onto Amethyst Avenue, where a crowd had gathered outside a newly opened shop.

Gawain looked up and saw a sign reading “Government Affairs Supervised Project.” In the window, neatly arranged, were large arm bracers or gauntlet-like devices, gleaming metallically in the sunlight.

Gawain murmured, “The first retail store for arcane terminals open to civilians is already in trial operation…”

As one of Cecil’s earliest arcane tech products, arcane terminals weren’t cutting-edge. Designed as modular platforms with interchangeable cores, they had always held great civilian potential—they could be equipped with offensive spells as weapons or with auxiliary rune plates as handy tools. For Gawain, who had long dreamed of bringing supernatural power to the masses, civilian adoption was inevitable.

Last year, Rebecca and her team had successfully developed engineering terminals with welding, cutting, and towing functions based on soldiers’ arcane terminals, distributing them to arcane technicians and engineers. After gathering feedback and improvements, a more user-friendly, safer, and cheaper civilian version finally appeared before the public.

These civilian arcane terminals had lower power but could still cast basic cantrips and several weakened protective spells. Ordinary people could use them as tools or for self-defense in the wild—a very convenient device.

Yet, as Gawain observed the crowd outside the store, he noticed that while many had gathered, very few were actually buying the arcane terminals.

“It’s perfectly normal. For most people, magic is still something ‘otherworldly.’ Even though magical power is all around them, few have ever imagined they’d actually cast a spell themselves,” Pittman said from the side. “And to be honest, while a few dozen silver coins isn’t a fortune, it’s still a lot for many. Ordinary folks, used to living frugally, won’t just spend that kind of money on something unfamiliar just because it’s novel or interesting.”

This was an inevitable part of promoting magical technology.

Gawain glanced toward the shop where a crowd had gathered. After a moment’s thought, he turned to Amber. “Have your agents give them a little nudge.”

Amber agreed casually, “Sure.”

Gawain was surprised by how readily she agreed. “That was quick. Why so eager this time?”

“Being a plant is old hat for a lot of those jerks,” Amber waved her hand dismissively. “Saying ‘give them a nudge’ is just a fancy way of saying ‘be a plant’…”

Gawain: “…Well, you’re not wrong.”

The three of them took one last look at the shop selling civilian magic terminals. Just as they were about to leave, Pittman suddenly added, “Actually, neuro-link technology isn’t just for brain-machine interfaces or entering the mental network. It might have another possible application.”

Gawain’s tone lifted with interest. “Oh?”

“You’re working to give ordinary people the power of magic—magic terminals solve half the problem, and neuro-links… might solve the other half.”

(End of chapter)