I spent the next few days thinking about the Hōgyoku.
The concept was clear enough in my head—four steps, one impossible artifact.
Annihilation Maker would craft the vessel.
Dimension Lost would compress the boundary between realities into something tangible, a pocket of “Conceptual Void”—the literal boundary that separates reality from nothingness—and compress it inside the crystalline sphere.
This gives the device the spatial framework required to fold alternative realities into the current world.
Dreamlike Curse would siphon desire from the collective unconscious.
And Telos Karma would force the universe to accept it.
Simple on paper.
Insane in practice.
I reached for my journal—then stopped.
The leather-bound book sat on my desk, half-filled with my handwriting.
Plans.
Observations.
Thoughts I’d committed to paper without really thinking about it.
I’d been careful, sure.
Used codes and references that only I would understand.
But the truth was, writing things down was a risk.
A paper trail that could be found, read, exploited.
I stared at the journal for a long moment.
Then I closed it.
Pushed it aside.
And I built something else instead.
It started as a thought exercise—a mental workspace where I could organize my ideas without leaving traces.
But the more I worked on it, the more it grew.
Took shape.
Became something real.
A mind palace.
A mental construct where I could store information, run simulations, plan out complex sequences without ever putting pen to paper.
I layered it with Dreamlike Curse’s illusionary depth, anchored it with Telos Karma’s certainty.
And then, because I was me and I couldn’t leave well enough alone, I gave it a voice.
A mental assistant.
A presence that could organize my thoughts, remind me of details I’d forgotten, point out connections I’d missed.
It wasn’t sentient—not really—but it was functional.
Efficient.
I called it the Mindscape.
The long-term plan was to evolve it.
Use the Hōgyoku to transform it into something more—a true artificial intelligence, a Great Sage that could analyze threats, propose strategies, maybe even help me manage the peerage I was starting to build.
But that was for later.
For now, it was enough.
I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and let the Mindscape unfold around me.
I was standing in a vast library—infinite shelves, soft light, the smell of old paper and possibility.
My mental assistant hovered nearby, a faint shimmer in the air, waiting.
“What would you like to review?”
“Everything,” I said.
“Start with the plan.”
The shelves shifted.
Books rearranged themselves.
A single volume floated toward me, opening to a page that outlined the Hōgyoku synthesis in clean, precise detail.
Step one: Annihilation Maker.
Craft the vessel.
Step two: Dimension Lost.
Extract the boundary.
Step three: Dreamlike Curse.
Anchor desire.
Step four: Telos Karma.
Force causality.
I read through it again, searching for gaps, weaknesses, anything I’d missed.
The Mindscape highlighted potential issues, flagged risks, suggested alternatives.
It was…
useful.
More than useful.
It was like having a second brain that existed purely to help me think.
“Good,” I said.
“Now the other things.
Threats.
Power-ups.
Peerage.”
The library shifted again.
I thought about Issei.
The perverted little dragon boy who was probably still running around Kuoh, blissfully unaware that he was about to become the center of a prophecy.
I despised him, honestly.
Not just his habits—though those were bad enough—but the way he carried himself.
The entitlement.
The lack of awareness.
The way he reduced women to…
that.
I could kill him.
Easily.
Removing the perversion.
Just…
cutting it out.
A surgical strike on his subconscious that would leave him functional but less…
disgusting.
Telos Karma could force the choice.
But would it be worth it?
I ran the simulations in the Mindscape, watching the possibilities unfold.
If I removed his perversion, he’d still be Issei—still driven, still determined, still the Red Dragon Emperor.
But he might lose some of his…
enthusiasm.
The thing that pushed him to fight harder, to protect his friends, to grow stronger in ways that surprised everyone.
And there was another consideration.
The Boob Goddess.
She’d attached herself to him for a reason.
If I severed that connection, she’d notice.
She’d come looking.
And while I was confident I could handle her, I wasn’t sure I wanted to pick that fight.
Not yet.
Not when I had so much else to do.
I let the thought simmer and decided to set it aside for now.
Issei was a future problem.
A tool I might need to adjust later.
For now, I’d let him follow his path and hope he didn’t become too annoying.
I shifted my focus to other things.
Threats.
Power-ups.
Peerage.
The Mindscape organized the information into neat categories, each one branching into subcategories and connections.
Threats.
Peerage.
Power-ups.
Filtered down by priorities.
It narrowed down to 2 highest ones.
Valerie Tepes.
Priority target.
Her Sacred Gear—the ability to manipulate life and death—was too valuable to leave in vampire hands.
Night Reflection.
Connla.
Future Hero faction.
SG providing significant power-ups.
Shadow travel and enemy shadow spawning.
About to be poached by Cao Cao.
A/N: 2 chapters today.
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