Bakerland Nester Psychiatric Hospital, the clock had already struck eight, and thanks to Victoria’s geographical location, it was still very bright outside.
"How are things?" Mrs. Q stood in front of transparent high-strength one-way glass, looking at a D-class staff mber wearing a strange helt inside the ward, and asked casually.
"It hasn’t started yet. According to the normal process, the death chanism usually triggers two to three hours after nightfall," Mr. R said, sitting on a chair that looked rather uncomfortable, flipping through the docunts in his hands.
Two days and one night had passed since it was confird that the "Covenant Card" was not an imitation case. During this ti, the Military Intelligence Ninth Bureau had reorganized all subsequent cases judged as imitations since the appearance of Libra.
Although many cases still had no suspects found till this day, more criminals had been arrested.
All these arrested individuals had stolen from their cases, and quite a few had been caught because they were discovered selling the stolen items.
To figure out what set these people apart from those who received Covenant Cards and died as mimics, Mr. R and Mrs. Q, including their team mbers, had been intensely watching various derivative works of "Libra Covenant" these past two days, trying to find out the new execution rules added by the mutated ghost.
However, with the end of the Olympic Gas, the strange tales of Libra had spread to the world through various dia channels and tourists. The derivative works now included various languages and, based on different local cultures and customs, had developed derivatives with local characteristics. This did not even account for discussions in forums, posts, or chat groups.
Although once the frenzy was over, the vast majority would completely disappear, at least at this critical mont, it was too difficult to find useful information from this massive exchange of information.
It wasn’t that reasonable guesses hadn’t been made, but after all, they were just guesses.
The reason why the Military Intelligence Ninth Bureau took such a keen interest in "Libra" was not just for profit or political achievents, nor was it because there were no other targets to pursue. The real reason lay in its influence.
Far from being a seemingly harmless ghost to the public, for any nation, it was an absolute cancer, even without considering various vested interests or subsequent mimic offenders. Its very existence would undermine a nation’s credibility.
Not to ntion the example set by Eastern Country.
Nearly all individuals who could hold senior positions in organizations dealing with Kaidan had visited Eastern Country. It wasn’t to learn any advanced concepts, but rather to let them realize how powerless humanity could be when these entities spiraled out of control.
...
Ti ticked away, and the sky finally turned completely dark. Mrs. Q stopped her work, and Mr. R also ceased taking docunts from his assistant.
It wasn’t just them; at this mont, many mid-level staff unrelated to "Libra" began to show up here, so even bringing along promising juniors, waiting for the demise of this D-class staff mber.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
A screen was turned on, displaying an image identical to that of the ward, but this was not a live recording. Instead, it was data transmitted from the brain of the D-class individual inside the ward.
Model C-62, designed as a helt with a USB port and a chanical feel.
It was neither a Mind Reader nor a Lie Detector. It could only convert the wearer’s visuals and audio into video files, essentially allowing the wearer to beco a high-resolution human cara and recorder.
It sounded like sothing an ordinary cara could replace, but compared to purely technological creations, this magical item naturally had its wonders—
It captured not the "objectively existing" visuals and sounds, but the images and sounds "perceived" by the wearer; in other words, it could record the wearer’s "hallucinations" and "dreams."
"Everything is normal so far." Professional technicians continuously compared footage from conventional caras with output from the magical item, not missing even minor sounds or slight imperfections in the visuals.
The seemingly futile task lasted a full hour, and so younger agents brought in had even begun to show signs of impatience. But just then, an eerie chi emanated from the computer speakers connected to C-62, and the person sitting on the hospital bed suddenly shivered violently.
"It’s here!"
Everyone outside the hospital room beca alert, watching the two side-by-side monitors intently and glancing into the room occasionally.
The room was empty, yet the person yelled out in terror, and on the computer monitor linked to the magical item, a male figure wearing a skull mask suddenly appeared in his field of vision.
"Golden lapel pin, European-style suit..." Mr. R incessantly noted the characteristics of the man in the skull mask in his notebook, already comparing them with details in fan creations and eyewitness reports.
While the on-site personnel docunted the visuals, although C-62’s recorded video could be saved, considering the secondary settings of the Libra with potential "erasing electronic monitoring traces," they still preferred to rely on paper and eyes for mory.
"I’ll tell you three pieces of good news..."
A voice laden with oppression erged from the speaker, yet the room still remained empty. The person who had collapsed on the bed now unnaturally floated in mid-air, with visible strangulation marks appearing on his neck.
Outside the hospital room, pairs of eyes were fixated on everything before them, breathing suppressed to the lowest level, only the rustling of pen tips on paper providing a somber accompanint to the mont of death.
"...you are already on the execution list."
As the last sentence fell, the screen, which had turned pitch black, emitted one final sound—
"Snap!"
That was the sound of a neck being broken.
Looking at the display showing the output from the magical item turning into static, the experienced administrator understood this signified the complete death of the wearer. Even though the person still floated mid-air, they could no longer determine if the "Swearer" had left any other ssages afterward.
After all, the side effect of B-44 affected the user, not the environnt. Although the user, now a corpse, continued to undergo transformations, they had no ans to observe the significance of these changes.
Finally, the corpse fell, and drops of blood appeared out of thin air, forming ghastly and disordered words—the blood writings seen by the person through B-44 had now manifested into reality.
Several mid-level agents, accompanied by subordinates either terrified or exhilarated, left the hospital room "completely satisfied," while the administrator stood in front of the computer, waiting for the technicians to export the video and retrieve C-62.
anwhile, Mr. R and Ms. Q still stood by the door of the hospital room, quietly ruminating over the words left by the "Swearer."
An idea seed to be slowly taking shape.
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