Leif's exciting science experiment show is free only today!

'Or maybe it's magic, not science here?'

Well, whatever.
As long as the meaning gets across, it’s fine.

In front of my eyes, it became clear that Leif’s so-called kindness had its limits.

Where had the Leif gone who gently closed the eyes of our deceased comrades, weeping over their tragic deaths, and cleansed their remains?

'No, wait. She never really left, did she? Even back then, she was the one who left that psycho bastard alone.'

Leif was a person who clearly drew lines.

Anyway, Leif’s experiment was turning out to be rather brutal.

It started with testing whether the mutated bugbear could withstand her ultimate attack, the high-pressure water cannon, the Water Jet.
But the experiment kept escalating until she was now seeing how long the variant could survive underwater.

“Wow… this is fascinating. Roman, come take a look at this. It’s grown gills.”

At Leif’s words, I paused rummaging through the bugbear’s lair and approached her.
Sure enough, inside the water prison, the mutated bugbear was breathing through newly-formed gills.

“How is this even possible?”

The bugbear—a creature that’s somewhere between a bear and a goblin—had evolved into a variant with a lion-like head and a massive humanoid body.
And now, after battling me, it had sprouted bone-like protrusions and gills, making it look even more grotesque.
It was the kind of creature you wanted to tell shouldn’t exist.

“Maybe it’s not a bugbear anymore but an entirely different species? Like a mimic monster?”

That could be.

Or perhaps it was infected with a parasite that modified the host.
You know, like those stories where an alien organism merges with its host and evolves through self-replication.

“But why hasn’t it evolved to adapt to Roman’s magic?”

Ray, who had been scavenging the lair opposite me, approached and peered into the water prison.

“Careful, Ray. That’s dangerous,” Leif warned.
“It’s fine. Roman’s magic has paralyzed it, so it’s not a threat. If it were going to overcome it, it would’ve done so when I was hitting it.”

Ray had a good point.
I’d been wondering about that, too.

The variant had adapted to all sorts of environments and attacks.
It had extended the spikes along its spine to shake me off its back.
And it had even developed gills to survive in Leif’s water prison.

The level of its adaptations was so extreme that it seemed to become an entirely different organism.

But why hadn’t it adapted to Leraje’s magic, to the point of not overcoming the Exhaustion spell?

[Why are you even questioning this? It’s obvious—it’s because it’s my magic.]

Surprisingly, that explanation made sense.

Demons are higher-dimensional beings.
And Leraje, as a Grand Duke, is especially high-ranked among them.
Even a mutant like this couldn’t adapt to that kind of power.

'Let’s test it, then.'

I had the perfect way to find out.

“Leif, release it. I’ll try something next.”
“Oh, right. I’ve been holding it for too long, haven’t I?”

‘Holding it’?
Her choice of words made it clear that she thought of the creature not as a monster but as a test subject or training tool.

As Leif unsummoned Undine and dispelled the water prison, the variant collapsed onto the ground with a wet thud.

I didn’t feel any sympathy for it.
It was karma.

From the bones scattered around this place, it was clear this wasn’t the first time a massacre had occurred here.
If it had killed people, it should have expected to be killed itself.
That’s the way of the world.

Setting aside any pangs of conscience, I prepared my magic bullets.
This time, instead of using Leraje’s magic, I infused them with Seir’s magic for a cross-check.

I fired the bullets, infused with pure concentrated magic, at the mutant’s unadapted hide.
One shot wasn’t enough.

I kept firing until its flesh was torn, its meat crushed, and blood began to pour.

“This confirms it.”

Watching the variant unable to recover, let alone adapt and evolve, I concluded.

“This thing can’t adapt to demonic magic.”

It wasn’t just Leraje’s poison or Exhaustion spell.
The variant couldn’t react to demonic magic in general.

[Heh, but isn’t that obvious, Contractor?]
'True. If even Grand Duke Leraje’s magic works, then there’s no reason Duke Seir’s magic wouldn’t.'
[Exactly!]

I couldn’t see Seir, but I could clearly picture him in my mind—arms folded, chest puffed out, chin lifted, with a smug grin on his face.

“Uh, Roman?”
“Hm?”
“I think… it’s dead.”
“What?”

I put my fingers near the variant’s nose.
If it were breathing, I’d be able to feel its breath.
But there was none.

“...It’s dead.”
“Well, it lasted long enough. The wounds Roman inflicted didn’t heal, after all. Looks like it bled out.”

Me? The cause?
Why does that make sense?

“It wasn’t some kind of god—it had its limits. Maybe it just ran out of the power source for its evolution.”
“You just said it couldn’t adapt to demonic magic yourself.”

Way to use logic against me.
Why not win with baseless claims instead?

“Well, it was never guaranteed to survive. And Leif and I beat it up pretty badly.”
“...I didn’t hit it like Ray did.”
“I bet the water hurt more than the punches.”

I agree with that.
Honestly, even though Ray’s fighting style makes her hits feel more impactful, in terms of pure power, Leif’s attacks are stronger.

In any case, what’s dead is dead.
Now, we needed to focus on what we could do moving forward.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to take the corpse with us.”

Hopefully, we can get it back before it starts to rot.

Jake barely caught his breath after running non-stop back to the main base.
It was the first time he had pushed himself this hard.
Even that legendary courier who traveled 240 kilometers in two days to deliver a message wouldn’t have been faster than Jake.

Jake had left his two unconscious subordinates with an acquaintance mid-way and sprinted the rest of the journey alone.

Upon arriving at the main base, instead of resting, he went straight to the Explorers' Guild.
While the base was overseen by the city’s security force, it would be faster to mobilize reinforcements through the Guild, which had quick access to skilled personnel.

“Jake?”

Just as Jake had hoped, the Guild staff immediately recognized him, despite his disheveled appearance.

“Support… huff... reinforcements…”
“Calm down. Here, drink some water first. Start from the beginning.”

The staff moved quickly, well-practiced in handling such emergencies.

After catching his breath and sipping the water, Jake spoke.

“There’s a variant bugbear near the Windmill at the Edge. It’s a high-ranked threat, at least mid-to-high B-tier. One of the top predators of the first floor. I was caught off guard.”
“Even you, Jake?”

Jake was no ordinary senior explorer.
His place on the fourth-floor expedition team wasn’t due to connections or bribery.

If Jake had been taken down, that meant no other explorer operating on the first floor could handle the situation.

“This is serious. I’ll report to the branch manager immediately and send out reinforcements.”
“Where is the branch manager?”
“He’s currently away.”
“There’s no time for that!”

Jake’s throat burned as he raised his voice.

“There are three apprentices still there! They stayed behind to buy time! If we want to at least recover their bodies…”
“Wait. Three apprentices near the Windmill?”

Frustrated by the interruption, Jake turned to glare at the newcomer.

It was a man with fiery red curly hair, flanked by a brown-haired young man and a tall woman with ash-gray hair.
Jake recognized them at once.

They were the famous trio—students of the head of the Alexandria School.

“Now that you mention it, weren’t they also candidates in this exam?”
The three of them had the official explorer badge pinned to their chests, a symbol of having passed the exam.

“This isn’t a task for novices…”
“Those three.”

Another voice chimed in.

Jake turned to see who it was this time.

“A demon warlock, a spirit summoner, and a battle mage, right? And wasn’t one of them part beastfolk?”
“...Spirit summoner? I thought it was an elemental summoner. She used water. But who are you…? Are you… the Grand Duchess?”

The famous trio from the Alexandria School, and now the Grand Duchess herself?

Who on earth were those people?
Before Jake could even process this turn of events—

“I know the way to the Windmill. We confirmed the route earlier. Let’s head out immediately.”
“This isn’t a mission for novices! Are you… the Thousand Swords?”

A direct disciple of the Pioneers.
The next star of the Frontier Guild.

Arthur was well-known even to Jake, who rarely paid attention to the happenings outside the Abyss.

For them to move so decisively, with no hesitation—who were these people they were rushing to save?
As Jake’s confusion deepened, another voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, looks like everyone’s here. Are we the last to arrive?”

A voice Jake hadn’t expected to hear again—one he shouldn’t have been able to hear.
A voice that wasn’t supposed to exist in this world anymore.

The sound of that voice erased Jake’s confusion.

‘Ah, so I’m dreaming. I must’ve already passed out from exhaustion.’

Realizing this, Jake felt strangely at ease.

And with that, Jake finally lost consciousness for real.