An ant shone in soft, mellow light, giving rise to a meter-wide cone that lasted for some odd seconds before collapsing into itself and disappearing just as fast as it appeared.

Behind the impenetrable wall of light, one of many alchemical wonders had taken place. But Linlin was not interested in the spectacle at all. He did not attend the trial purely for the flamboyant effects.

Each successful alchemical application was accompanied by certain phenomena. Basically, this show merely told them that the product was eligible for evaluation.

Without any, this would have been a witch doctor’s brew, not alchemy! Anyone with enough brains and tenacity could become a witch doctor. But an alchemist? Fat chance.

They were exceedingly rare. The seriousness with which both personalities evaluated and checked for faults did not permit blasphemous whitewashing.

Before their eyes, the patient overcame the ordeal and scurried a few metres before the last gleam of light persistently clinging to its carapace faded and an ant happy clicking with its mandibles greeted them.

The discharged patient soon met a bullet. The one crossing nature’s ward was so fast even Linlin was caught off guard. A certain antsy queen that couldn’t keep her cool met her child, touching, scratching, tapping, cuddling, laughing...

Azariah was so full of happiness, she circled around her child, inspecting and praising Linlin’s mastery incessantly while the psychic network gave off a cloud of fuzzy feelings that could not be explained.

He was caught unprepared by the deep synchronisation with the hivemind, which dropped him into a seething swirl of jubilant presences, each more grateful than the next.

As the description stated, Linlin had no control over anything when it came to the hivemind. More than ever, he was just a cog in the wheel. He was no longer scratching the surface as before. Linlin was immersed deeply.

As a result, however, he lost some protection against the hivemind’s deeper influence. It slowly altered his perceptions to an extent incomparable to before. They would only come to understand the significance much later.

Right now, both personalities were overwhelmed by the intensity and liveliness of the hivemind. Slowly, they came to understand the true nature of the State as they became more familiar with the stored memories of the collective.

It was a welcome change. It brought enlightenment where they both failed continuously: Their understanding of emotions and all that was connected to the subject deepened as they accepted the much-needed counselling.

No matter how little, every child had something to offer. Ants might not be the best sources for mastering this study, but the hivemind provided solid foundations. It was certain they would never feel lonely again.

In return, everything they thought and did would be stored in the hivemind. However, this did not raise any alarms at the moment. Seeing this condition as a necessary tradeoff, Pansy no longer pondered over this alienating thought.

The twenty-plus years they spent together suddenly seemed to have been downplayed and reshaped. It was as if they had always been part of something greater.

The moment they willed the upgrade to take place, they unwittingly changed their future. They now faced a different issue. It took them a lot of effort to restrain their consciousness, resist their urges, focus on what was happening in front of them and rethink their stance on what had bothered them from the outset.

Their removal was tacitly accepted and facilitated by the ensemble of individuals. After all, it was their wish. And the collective was very sensitive to wishes.

A closer look at the patient revealed there had been a few accidental deviations from the intended outcome–––for instance, there was some pale, greenish shimmering goo covering and reinforcing exactly where the damage had occurred.

However, the strangeness did not diminish the significance or importance of this little miracle in Azariah’s eyes. The queen was so elated she overlooked Linlin’s gloomy mood for the time being.

While the Queenant was intoxicated with elation and quavered in happiness, the scrutinising protagonist was anything but. Linlin found her actions to be a momentarily silly outburst he could disregard.

The hivemind made such a conclusion legitimate because all she thought was magnified a lot by the collective. Additionally, the collective mood would also be in the gutter by the time she noticed the drawback. Pansy saw a cycle here.

Queen Azariah’s emotions affected the State, which in turn influenced her depending on the feedback she received. That was just a stray thought easily forgotten.

Linlin was only interested in the sticky substance. Both personalities began spewing curses, which could not be hidden from the hivemind. ‘Damn, what a failure.’ “Is my child ill?” ‘Now she’s listening in to all we have to say? Colour me impressed.’

Azariah noticed the foreign thought as it was so much more refined than what she usually felt from her children. Pansy’s thoughts, however, did not seem to have the same impact as the agent’s.

Pansy soon noticed that it was as if he had been muted by a higher power. ‘Now I’m like a dud. A lurker. Nice! Benefits await!’ The Master Strategist did not want to miss out on sweet scheming. He welcomed this situation.

In fact, such lousy supervision might bring incredible benefits if properly managed. In their mindscape, Pansy chuckled evilly all on his lonesome.

Meanwhile, Azariah came running like a puppy in trouble, her beautiful face dripping with worry. “What went wrong? So speak,” she cried. “Don’t care about my feelings, just tell me. Now!”

At the time, her instincts held little influence over her state of mind, as all she cared about was what, if any, solace the man could provide to her wronged children. Like a sweet dream, Azariah feared it was just a bubble that might burst.

Overwhelmed by the overprotective chick overflowing with motherly instincts, Linlin hastily told the truth, albeit gruffly. “Failure means failure.” Pansy’s reasoning tainted the hivemind.

“The formula is flawed, to say nothing of the shitty cauldron that reduces quality by God alone knows how much. In my opinion, this herbal solution, if you can call it that, did a poor job of bringing about regeneration.

What the hell is this gel-like, hard stuff anyway? That’s certainly not what I was hoping for.” Towards the end, there was a noticeable sense of frustration. The negative emotion was accompanied by an increased level of fear as well.

Pansy knew how much the queen cared for her children. Now how would the queen react? Was there a divine storm brewing? “...what else?”

Oddly, Queen Azariah respected Linlin’s privacy and did not try to feel out the thoughts. Not that she could directly read Pansy's precious thoughts.

In any case, her not knowing about the discovered peculiarity was probably for the best. Overall, Queen Azariah was even more considerate than before! Perhaps because–––according to her understanding–––Linlin could no longer hide anything from her.

Perhaps she was really more trusting of him now that their connection had deepened. Perhaps she acted like this because she was overwhelmed by her emotions and was afraid of making a mistake.

The right answer was something only the queen could give. Despite the fear ravaging her mind, Azariah waited patiently for Linlin to collect his thoughts. “Strong light, that went wrong. It’s bad news.

There was either too much lifeforce consumed to support the effects, thus reducing life expectancy, or there was repulsion between the body and the alchemical product. Regardless, it’s bad."

“…how much?” Pansy couldn’t quite tell from her neutral tone whether she was on the verge of a bloody rage or not. The hivemind was much more informative, but he didn’t have access to Azariah’s thoughts.

But! At this point, lying and making excuses were neither real options, regardless of how horrible the truth was. “One tenth’s left? Hard to judge on the fly.”

“So... about eight years left.” ‘Godness, they get this old?! It’s a natural disaster, not an army!’ ‘Keeps us safe. For the rest... who cares!’ The Queenant tucked her silky grey-blue hair into place that had been swaying freely in the wind since her early outburst.

She returned to the ant and inspected it again with a cryptic smile on her lips. As she silently digested the rock that created ripples in her mind, she refused to utter another word.

Azariah’s silence continued to bother Pansy, so he sought a distraction. ‘Note to self: On Stupid’s behalf, learn how to control what spills over and what remains his. Her doing this implies it is possible.’

‘It’s her domain after all. ...what do you do on my behalf?’ ‘Slowpoke, quiet. I do not yet understand how much of your mind influences the hivemind.

I need some time to observe, run a few experiments, and then we can talk again.’ ‘Do we need to keep secrets?’ ‘I... don’t know? I’ve got this feeling, but duh. I suppose secrets do save people.’

A pessimistic grumble that sounded like the croak of a stuffed toilet saved our protagonist from the Master Strategist’s nerve-wracking state of mind after enough time had passed for his coarse, holey clothes to become damp with sweat.

It was Lord Chartres doing who couldn’t resist his urges. No drama was safe from the mimic, he simply had to join in! “Disheartened despite undertaking God’s work.

Distressed by thee flawed oeuvre beyond the avenue of most.” At last, the tag-along mimic let go of his exasperation. However, it was misunderstood. ‘Our trial... we definitely screwed up.’

‘As I said, a failure.’ ‘Clumsy.’ ‘Agreed, but educational nonetheless.’ “Linchester, got a second?” The dreaded hour approached as Azariah broke the stifling silence between them.

“Y-yes?” “This is overwhelming.” “underwhelming, I know… uhh, what? Care to explain?” “Sigh,” she said in a mocking tone, her voice somewhat strained, “I have no idea what godly nonsense you were expecting, but to turn a dying creature into a fidgety little bundle of energy is divine!

Can you imagine how much this so-called failure of a herbal liquid aids an army during a bitter conflict? There’s a world of difference between soldiers with access to your solution and their poor enemies who don’t.”

‘She’s got a point. The sauce is very appealing to soldiers.’ ‘Something of strategic importance, then. Maybe it isn’t a complete failure?’ ‘Seems so.’

‘But the formula needs a revamp, the smell is disastrous. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the current side effects. They’re just that terrible.’

‘Grade C, albeit barely.’ ‘My thoughts exactly. Slightly better scrap. Oh, and remember, no talking.’ ‘Yes... right!’ The two had adopted the Illusory Library’s strict rating concept, which should make understanding the value of items on Central easier.

In any case, they did not seem to need a crutch anytime soon. Compared to what one may expect, Grade C was utter garbage with a glimmer of hope still left.

Grade B was acceptable and nothing more than that. Grade A distinguished the useful from the useless. Another mythical grade existed, Grade S, whose threshold was so harsh that almost nothing successfully passed the validation.

“Which leaves us...” Azariah stared at our protagonist with eyes filled with hope, making the stalwart agent fear for what was to come. ‘…Stupid, something tells me our break’s over for good. Schedule got shot to hell.’ ‘...no talking, remember.’

‘I’m excluded!’ ‘Poor me...’ “What are your orders?” Pansy was sure if he exaggerated right now in his demands, the queen would set off to do the impossible, even if it meant razing the entire world to the ground.

That was just how much pressure her strong desire alone put him under, even excluding the influence of the other hopeful fellows connected to the hivemind. Their burning expectations proved to be too much even for someone like our Master Strategist.

“If it doesn’t hurt you excessively, that is.” Azariah sure did add a dangerous line without blinking. “Gulp. It’s a cauldron right out of the gate, but I need help. Just two more pairs of hands will do.”

“These we have!” “Honouree Queen…” “What?!” That royally pissed-off hiss made the dissenting mimic shudder in fright and he immediately consented despite whatever his original intentions were.

It also left the ole’ pile of cells quite aggrieved. Pansy added this to the ever-growing list of things to keep in mind. Azariah’s mood swing was nothing to laugh at. In addition, her persuasive ability was almost limitless.

It was either talking to her and being happy with the outcome or talking to her children. Even a brainless fool would know what to choose. Pansy also thought of another problem.

Although the mimic accepted the invitation, he was more likely to cause trouble with his lack of interest in the situation than be of any help.

Given the volatile nature of alchemical products, such an attitude wouldn’t end well. Azariah’s violent tendencies made failure an obvious no-brainer.

Pansy could only appeal to Lord Chartres’ intelligence. ‘Hope he’s intimidated enough not to screw around. Because, oh no...’ By then, the Master Strategist had despaired.

When Chartres’ unmotivated help was combined with Linlin’s inexperience, they were doomed... But could he tell this to Azariah? Hell no! He had to play along. “Fine. The materials are the same as before; just make sure they are as fresh as they can be.”

“Certainly. My children will harvest only at the last minute. You may give them more accurate instructions. I’m glad you’re here and not in the barbarian woods.”

“...likewise.” ‘Heh, this is good. The whole darn forest can be dangerous, but miscommunication and misconduct can be as well. So which is worse?’

“Now that things have settled down and possible territorial contenders have fled in fear, it should suffice for a small group to manage security, a slightly larger battalion to hunt and the rest to comb through the woods seeking resources.

Anything else?” Pansy only felt sorry for the forest dwellers after experiencing the State’s zeal first hand. But that wasn’t their problem.

The agent finally could no longer wait. After this to and fro, he was exhausted. “Yes, five days of undisturbed rest and a clean place. Use the time well.” ‘…where’s your charm?!’

‘In hibernation. Silence, remember?’ ‘Urgh...’ Azariah had little to add and demanded of the State Cleaners–––subspecies with little combat capability but a flexible exoskeleton capable of taking on various forms–––to clean the huge and particularly dirty cauldron that fit Linlin’s requirements he disclosed in the hivemind.

Of course, the main reason for insisting on five days of vacation was not due to dirty surroundings or lack of sleep. It was time for an upgrade that shouldn’t last too long.

Lesser Otyughs were merely an anomaly. Their sluggishness must be why the upgrade of [Bloodoscope] took so long. Linlin knew enough about the Trioptic Speedster to judge that five days was sufficient.

Slowness meant quick death for the mammal, which lived under terrible conditions. In order to reassure himself, he used up a daily charge of [Bloodoscope] that ended in an affirmation.

Five days were definitively enough. Then he had to perform alchemy with the help of the others. In other words, the agent’s quality time kept eluding him.

As for their energy levels, if the agent did what he was planning... some days of stuffing himself full of charcoal are sure to keep them competitive.

‘Why again the rush?’ Our protagonist sat inside the scalloped trunk of the tree he'd discovered and gathered his thoughts in anticipation of what lay ahead. ‘Didn’t we agree to take it slow?’

‘Silence, Stupid, silence. Well... integrity level’s low as fuck, risk’s high. The trial starts in five days, and we have no idea what will happen. Bloodoscope doesn’t answer the question, no matter how I ask it–––and I asked it twice.

The situation always remains murky due to prophetic interference or some other factor. All considered that’s why.’ Without energy reserves, the two had only one choice available to them, so they silently mulled over the bill and the repertoire.

[Folly–a–Boo] Level 1

[...]

Level-Up Requirement │ Bioenergy (50)

[...]

[...]

Linlin had only used it in the human scum scramble. During close-quarter fights, delayed reactions proved especially useful. A slow clown had no chance on a fast-paced battlefield. Doubly so if confronted with them.

In accordance with their strict training, Pansy kept an eye on Linlin’s surroundings at all times while the agent dealt with the enemies swiftly. All openings were deadly godsends, period.

It really was no bad investiture. They wouldn’t need to worry about the future if the upgraded version introduced a performance boost. Using [Bloodoscope], [Folly-A-Boo] and reinforcements called by [Hivemind] was a winning combination.

There was a lot of potential for dominance in battle with [Apocaliptic Hide of the Devourer]. The only thing they craved was an enemy to pummel to the ground.

Calling Azariah for assistance for that was already scheduled. This left one skill. Only [Stinky Fingers] was a bust. Neither personality knew how to use it.

Alchemy might benefit from it. Now, however, was not the time to think about such things. The agent had to prepare for whatever stunt the System might decide to pull. He truly needn’t wait long.

Warning! Warning! Warning! Level-Up Intention Detected–––Launch Security Protocol 8 If Not Ready Cease Immediately! Repeat: If Not Ready Cease Immediately! Ready In... 3... 2... 1...

‘Here we go, that’s the feeling. Same old, same old. Good luck.’ ‘Aye.’ The agent didn’t skip befuddlement this time either. His worldly perception vanished without a trace, and darkness overtook him.

It was at this point that any similarity ceased. The oppressive darkness continued indefinitely. Every now and then, some rays of light, pictures, or emotions bombarded the agent’s consciousness which he was unable to make sense of.

There were also long periods between amateurish broadcasts, which left him ample time to rethink his decision. Abnormal, uncomfortable and... the longer he remained in the darkness, the stronger the pressure became.

There was a feeling of oppression that the agent usually only experienced when stuck in the middle of large crowds with no weapon at hand. Then came panic and despair that threatened to overwhelm our tormented protagonist literally out of nowhere.

Something was not right. Definitely. There was something terribly wrong going on. Something fundamental to the entire process was missing. Instinct or faulty intuition? As always, the agent was not willing to give up and go down without a fight.

How pathetic would it be to die due to a procedure gone wrong after overcoming a thousand dangers? He was the one who decided his fate!

His formless self threatened to melt like butter in a frying pan despite the maddening fury boiling up from his very essence, providing finite energy to resist. The agent fought with all he got. A small stone was thrown into turbulent waters.

Only, this time, he was the stone. While the situation seemed hopeless, and pain pulled and tugged at all his senses like an angry bull on a ramshackle rope, the agent bundled his remaining power into one single point and pushed forward, no matter what.

Slowly yet surely, his iron-will began to shift minute details, his desire tentatively forming and influencing the pressing darkness. What resembled rusty shackles holding him in place became apparent and then shattered one after the other.

As the pressure increased, it also catapulted him into an area where darkness couldn’t reach.

‘What happened, you were gone less than half–––o-our eyes?!’ Pansy knew things weren’t right as soon as the other personality returned. As far as he could tell, even the hivemind was adversely affected!

With so many unwelcome voices echoing within their mindscape, the agent had no choice but to communicate with his mouth when the pressure decreased. Or at least he tried.

As Linlin opened his eyes reflexively, he hissed, jumped up in fright, crashed against rotting wood, fell to his knees, and curled into a twitching ball. This was all due to one problem.

A ray of light had met Linlin’s eyes. It was as if a wrecking ball had slammed into him, leaving Linlin with little choice but to lay there, occasionally gurgling whimper-like sounds, as saliva continued to drip down the corners of his bared mouth.

‘Don’t scare me to death. Tell goddammit!’ Maybe the agent in charge didn’t hear a thing, maybe he did, but he couldn’t overpower the omnipresent noise–––fact is, he failed to respond. But the State did not.

Ants slowly crawled over, soothing our wounded protagonist with their company. At the same time, countless ants started drilling their way into their mindscape, immediately beginning their work: They systematically sought and frazzled everything foreign.

Pansy was able to escape their relentless pursuit because he had a very similar psychic signature to the agent. Yet that was the last thing on his mind. ‘Shit, don’t you dare go blind on me!’ ‘…’

‘Where’s the damn screen escaped to?!’ Faster than ever before, Pansy slipped into the depths of their mindscape while silently bearing what felt like hellish fans of rock and metal tenaciously trolling against each other in some kind of competition to find who was louder and more interactive.

Ultimately, all of the hellish disco noises had little effect on Pansy, as part of the torture spilt into the hivemind, where it vanished like a pebble in the deep sea.

There were so many ants to share the burden, the nasty aftereffects had no chance. In the depths of their mindscape, Pansy discovered a pale blue status window that had taken on a slightly redder hue than he remembered.

Things had surely gone awry. In the place where he once saw various entries, the only thing left was incomprehensible gibberish written in the same strange runes as the integrity-related skill.

Safe the desired not-so-ill-boding explanation and a certain countdown. ‘…damn close call. Fortunately. If not for the hivemind’s protection... I don’t want to think about it.’

With his tension gone, Pansy abandoned the hellish concert and immediately sought refuge under the soothing protection of the great collective.

After he was safe, the paranoid Master Strategist couldn’t help but think... If the ants ever wanted them dead, then even distance wouldn’t save Linlin. He violently shuddered again.

122 Hour(s) Until Readjustment. Please Wait...

Linlin awoke from the world of howler monkeys on steroids four days later and just in time for the alchemical soup cooking show. Our protagonist had grown accustomed to hell’s musicians and a present without hammering temples, bleeding eyes, and bursting skulls suddenly seemed strange.

‘What… was that?’ ‘Later. We have an important appointment, you better go.’ ‘What? I’ve been out for so long?’ ‘Why yes.’ ‘O-okay. Good. Let’s go.’ Our still dazed protagonist stumbled out into the open and was about to check the sky when–

‘Stop!’ ‘What now...’ Pansy forcefully closed Linlin’s eyelids. ‘Not so fast. Keep calm, Azariah hasn’t yet killed us for being late. Get a bandage around your eyes. A rag. The ragged left leg of your trouser could do the trick.’ ‘Why?’

‘Later, I said! Just do it. You weren’t fully conscious when it happened. You totally missed the swarm of professional cleaners. You may continue to talk as usual. Trying to hide anything was an absurd idea, my bad. What I know is a secret, the rest is accessible to all, period.’

The agent didn’t really understand what made Pansy overreact and compromise, but it was definitely not in his nature to refuse the Master Strategist’s advice on impractical questions. He didn’t intend to further rip his already sorry excuse for a trouser into shreds.

That would leave him with nothing to cover his groynes, wouldn’t it? Grabbing the nearest big, bulgy leaf, Linlin ripped it to pieces, folded two suitable pieces into pads, put them to his eyes and tied everything in place with a liana around his head.

Though it wasn’t pretty, it did the job. And it saved what was left of his pants. Linlin scurried with difficulty to the meeting point, carefully circumnavigating every ant in the clearing so as not to step on the friendly bunch.

Linlin’s footing was extremely unstable, so it was very hard not to adversely affect them by mistake. He stumbled around more than he walked properly.

The agent wasn’t quite awake yet. Absolute proof was he didn’t ask questions even though they could see well despite the pads covering his eyes.

End of Part IV