"The chip processor is a corpse?"
At that moment, Harvey tore off his prison uniform. Because the bloody scabs from the whipping had stuck to the fabric, a sharp ripping sound accompanied his movement. Countless wounds that had just stopped bleeding were torn open once more, blood flowing from knuckle-wide gashes and trailing down his dark back, appearing at a sudden glance like innumerable weeping eyes.
"To be honest, I was quite surprised that you knew about the processor," Harvey said as he wiped his body with a towel. "That's certainly not a piece of knowledge taught in the rearing institutes. Most people in the prison have no idea what is controlling their chips, just as ants cannot see the humans above them.
"What imprisons us is not the prison, but the chips. Shattered Lake is merely a room within the Blood Moon Country."
Igola folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "I consider myself well-informed, frequenting high society as I do. I even made contingency plans for being thrown into Shattered Lake, which was why I deliberately looked into Shattered Lake Prison's operating mechanisms and learned of the processor's existence by chance... You're just a scavenger—how do you know such confidential intelligence?"
With three parts arrogance and seven parts suspicion, Igola measured his tone to perfection, discreetly stirring his 'Resonance' sorcery spirit as he spoke to ignite Harvey's emotions. If Harvey truly knew any secrets, he would certainly be itching to boast of the information and its source.
Yet Harvey merely glanced at Igola in the mirror and asked calmly, "You've all been to hospitals, haven't you? Have you ever noticed that there are no private hospitals in the Blood Moon Country—only research institute affiliated hospitals and maternity hospitals?"
"Isn't that perfectly normal?" Igola found the question baffling. "Even if there were private hospitals, I wouldn't go to one. The affiliated hospitals charge low fees, have great reputations, guarantee quality, and possess large numbers of healers. Private hospitals wouldn't have any room to survive in the first place."
"Generally speaking, healers come from every race—humans, snakeliz, elves, beastmen, even ogres..." Harvey said. "However, there is a department in the hospital staffed exclusively by a single race. Anyone outside that race is strictly forbidden from joining it."
Langna glanced at the bloody welts on Harvey's back. "Since it involves the research institute, the race you speak of must be the Blood Saint clan... But which department are you referring to?"
"The Cadaver Disposal Department."
Harvey scrubbed vigorously at his wounds with the towel. Even though his face contorted in agony, his voice remained utterly calm. "If I told you the research institute established the affiliated hospitals and banned private medical licenses solely to keep the Cadaver Disposal Department firmly in its own grasp, would you believe me?"
Yaxiu was completely bewildered—founding an entire hospital just for a single department? Buying a crab just to dip it in some vinegar?
Igola, however, seemed to have passed an Inspiration check and asked, "I remember your most serious charge was 'unauthorized corpse disposal,' and the Blood Saint clan's research institute wants to tightly control the source of corpses... Could corpses be a precious resource to the Blood Saint clan?"
"Corpses are more than just a resource; they are their taboo." Harvey offered a faint smile. "You were surprised earlier that the chip processor is a corpse, but what if I told you that all members of the Blood Saint clan are corpses?"
Yaxiu recalled the haughty white-haired hunter Gerard and couldn't connect him to a corpse no matter how hard he tried. Though Gerard was terrible at cards, he was clearly a quick-witted, intelligent man—only a tiny bit behind Yaxiu himself.
"Corpses... Yes, corpses! That makes sense!"
Igola had an epiphany. "I used to wonder why the Blood Saint clan enjoys such longevity without aging or decaying when even long-lived races like elves grow old. I thought it was the effect of some miracle, but if they are corpses, their appearances would naturally freeze at the moment of death!"
"Come to think of it, I've seen Blood Saints before, and I really didn't hear any heartbeat from them." Ronald held his chin and said, "Langna, you're from the Moon Shadow clan—you should know more, right?"
He turned his head, only to find Langna wearing a very strange expression—or rather, no expression at all. Langna didn't speak, didn't move his eyes, and stared straight ahead like a frozen wax figure.
"If he is of the Moon Shadow clan, he cannot respond to this topic in any way," Harvey said. "When the Blood and Moon clans transformed their races, they signed an oath binding them to protect each other's secrets."
Yaxiu asked, "Does that mean the processor controlling the chips of all death row convicts is a Blood Saint?!"
"Don't rush; we haven't reached that part yet," Harvey said. "The Blood Saint clan has always hidden the secret that they are corpses while controlling all sources of cadavers. They do this precisely to prevent anyone from learning the necromancy faction through the study of corpses—the necromancy faction is currently the only sorcery faction capable of controlling corpses!
"In other words, necromancers are the natural enemies of the Blood Saint clan. While I cannot manipulate a Blood Saint as easily as an ordinary corpse, if I faced a Blood Saint sorcerer of the same rank, unless they were also proficient in the necromancy faction, I am confident I could prevent them from even activating their sorcery spirits, grinding away their soul in dizziness and confusion until they become a genuine corpse!"
Igola raised his eyebrows, reserving judgment on Harvey's claims.
Every sorcerer claimed their faction was the greatest, just as Igola firmly believed the mind faction was the strongest. Harvey's boastful praise of the necromancy faction certainly contained plenty of exaggeration.
The claim of 'our faction was suppressed because we're just too powerful' circulated among almost every unpopular faction.
Langna shared a similar attitude. As an exiled Moon Shadow, he undoubtedly knew more, yet because of the oath's restrictions, he could reveal nothing.
Ronald and Yaxiu, on the other hand, wore identical expressions of 'you're so amazing, I'm following you.' Yaxiu pumped his fist and said excitedly, "Great! Then if Hunter Captain Gerard catches up to us during the escape, we'll leave it to you to take care of him, Harvey!"
Harvey's face froze. "Even as a natural enemy, it's not like a One-Wing could fight a Three-Wing..."
*Nicely done...* Igola glanced at Yaxiu, thinking that this was indeed the man who had conned a swindler. With a single casual remark, he had brought Harvey down a peg. Beneath that seemingly admiring facade lay a verbal trap brimming with malice—was this the true talent of a cult leader?
Harvey shifted gears. "However, while I cannot contend with a true Three-Winged Sanctuary Blood Saint, it's another matter entirely if they are in a special slumbering state. For instance... a Blood Saint remnant husk used as a chip processor!"
What Harvey said next reminded Yaxiu of a term: biotechnology!
Because of the sorcerer system, the sorcerer technology of this world was remarkably advanced; the nape chip was a derivative of sorcerer technology. However, a chip was at most a mobile terminal for sending and receiving messages, watching videos, listening to music, or serving as a tracker. But attempting to control human behavior through a chip was bound to exceed its functional limits.
Needs that exceeded 'functional limits' were naturally fulfilled by 'miracles.' Yet only sorcerers could cast miracles, and only sorcerers were needed.
Even if that sorcerer was dead, so long as certain conditions were met, they could still be made to cast miracles.
The so-called chip processors were actually the corpses of Blood Saint sorcerers whose souls had already returned to the Void Realm. Blood Saint sorcerers used miracles of the necromancy faction, alchemy faction, and electromagnetism faction to recycle these corpses, ultimately turning them into terminal processors capable of automatically transmitting and receiving chip signals!
Not only was this environmentally friendly and energy-efficient, but it was also profoundly imaginative, forcibly breaking through theoretical limits and allowing the death row convicts in prison to experience technology that might otherwise have taken centuries to invent.
However, Yaxiu had a question: "If you only need a sorcerer's corpse, why does it have to be a Blood Saint?"
"Here is my guess," Harvey said. "Although the living Blood Saints are corpses, their souls haven't returned to the Void Realm, and their physical bodies endure indefinitely. It's easy to reach a conclusion: their souls remain within their flesh. If I take the conjecture a step further, they likely reside in their blood.
"Even if most of the soul within the corpse has dissipated, there are probably still tiny soul fragments lingering in the blood and flesh."
Igola understood immediately. "Resurrection?"
Harvey nodded. "To the Blood Saint clan, a corpse does not represent absolute demise. 'Becoming a processor' might be an essential step in a resurrection ritual. Furthermore, not every Blood Saint sorcerer becomes a 'processor'; this might even be a privilege reserved solely for high-ranking sorcerers.
"Incidentally, I once ran a specific test: when I opened the chip's light screen and performed complex operations like browsing videos or playing curtain games, there was a noticeable drain on soul energy. It recovered quickly, so much so that even a sorcerer would hardly notice. As for why that soul energy was consumed, it could be explained as energy needed to run the chip, or it could be explained as... nourishment required by the corpse."
Listening to this, Yaxiu felt thoroughly uncomfortable all over, subconsciously scratching the back of his neck. It felt as though everyone had a tube attached to their nape, connected at the other end to a withered, aged corpse that was siphoning nourishment from the living every second of every day.
"Ugh! So... blech!" Ronald shuddered violently, then suddenly dashed into a stall and began vomiting into the toilet—he was actually disgusted to the point of throwing up!
Harvey set down his towel, turned around, and leaned against the sink to look at them. "So, are you willing to accept me into your group?"
This time, even Igola could find no fault. "Archibald, welcome aboard."
"Don't be in such a rush. I still need to verify something," Harvey asked. "You have a method to neutralize the chips, don't you? If you can't remove the chips, this so-called prison break is nothing but an unfunny joke."
Igola nodded. "We do."
"Good. At least the plan has a chance of success. But before I join, you must sign a contract and agree to one condition—"
"Necromancer." Igola's voice turned cold. "I admit you've brought very interesting information, but it is merely interesting. Up until now, I haven't seen what contribution you could possibly make to the escape."
As Langna gently patted Ronald's back to ease his retching, he spoke up, "You claimed you can control the corpse functioning as the chip processor. Does that mean you can directly alter our chip permissions?"
Harvey shook his head. "No. Modifying an inmate's permissions requires the *Sinner Directory*. Unless our marks are struck from the *Sinner Directory*, there is no way we can reduce the chip's restrictions."
"Then what good are you?" Igola's expression grew increasingly unfriendly.
"While I cannot reduce our restrictions, I can add restrictions to others. Removing shackles is difficult, but putting shackles on someone else is quite simple."
Harvey drew a finger gently across his neck. "The prison guards' chips fall under the processor's jurisdiction too."
Chapter 107