Deciphering ancient scripts was an immense challenge for anyone native to this world.
But for Ryan, with his AI Core, as long as there was enough data to work with, he barely needed to think at all.
The moment his gaze swept across those documents, his AI Core chimed with another alert.
[Ding! Unknown text/pattern detected. System automatically scanning and recording...]
...
The "AI Core" was a cutting-edge product from the late 21st century — a device capable of monitoring a person's bodily condition in real time, and an essential piece of technology for assisting human learning.
It functioned like a portable search engine — as long as its database held enough reference material, it could pull up any information a person needed, the moment they needed it.
Language learning and textual translation were among its most basic functions.
Whatever image passed before Ryan's eyes, the AI Core would automatically record it. There was no need for him to painstakingly read, memorize, or comprehend anything himself — it saved him an enormous amount of effort.
If he wanted to, he could effectively "memorize" the contents of an entire library in a remarkably short time.
...
"Since whoever was aboard that 'airship wreckage' used this ancient script to record their secrets, that must mean there's a considerable amount of surviving material written in 'Monkel.' If I can find enough samples, my AI Core might just be able to decode it..."
Ryan turned the parchment scroll over in his hands, his heart brimming with anticipation.
This scroll — quite possibly a high-grade gene source power cultivation method exclusive to the "Combat Physician" class — might turn out to be just as much of a game-changer as the Corpse-Stitcher serum itself.
Generally speaking, every fully-established transcendent class had its own corresponding exclusive skill set — techniques honed and perfected over countless generations, tailored precisely to complement that particular gene serum's effects.
Having a matched, class-exclusive technique produced an effect greater than the sum of its parts — combat strength could increase exponentially.
(Note: "Transcendent Class" refers to established, time-tested advancement paths, verified by prior generations, where the serums' attributes complement one another optimally and unlock maximum potential.
For example: the first-stage assassin-line serum Master Thief corresponds to the second-stage exclusive Shadow Assassin, and third-stage Phantom Rogue... following the agility-focused assassin path; or alternatively, Master Thief → Stalker → Phantom Blade... following the killer path.
As long as the serums are compatible enough, mixed advancement across paths is possible too, though the results become unpredictable, and subsequent tier advancement grows considerably more difficult.
Correspondingly, every classic class also has its own set of specialized weapon techniques and cultivation methods.)
This world contained countless transcendent classes — some pure, some hybridized — which was precisely why people had awakened such a bewildering, sometimes downright bizarre, variety of transcendent abilities.
...
The Monkel script material Baron Morin had managed to collect was too limited — his AI Core displayed a decoding rate of only 17%, nowhere near enough to decipher the full contents of the parchment scroll.
He'd need to gather considerably more samples of the ancient script going forward.
Even with his AI Core's effortless translation capabilities, decoding an ancient script still required opportunity and time. Ryan understood there was no rushing this, so he tucked the parchment scroll back into its case.
...
"Looking at things now... my original plan needs some adjustment."
Having finished cataloging his loot, even amid his joy over the windfall, a sense of danger crept over Ryan's heart.
If this had been ordinary treasure, a few made-up excuses might have been enough to bluff his way through.
But he understood clearly — what he now held in his hands was an "earth-shattering treasure" that whoever had hired the assassination would never, ever give up on.
"I need to get the Zombie Serum antidote as quickly as possible, then escape the Weasel Bandit Gang — otherwise, things could go very wrong..."
After thinking it through, this sense of impending danger refused to leave Ryan's mind.
He was the sole survivor closest to Morin's corpse — if whoever was behind this ever came looking for the "missing treasure," they would absolutely not overlook him as a potential lead.
And right now, he could bluff his way through with a story only because this bandit gang was full of physical-type assassins — no one here could tell he was lying.
But this was a world full of bizarre transcendent powers — making someone tell the truth wasn't exactly difficult.
Take, for instance, the caster-class transcendents who specialized in mental manipulation — Hypnotists and Interrogators...
They excelled at mental hypnosis; no lie could hide from them.
Though mystical-type transcendents were exceedingly rare, based on the limited clues available, whoever was behind this hired assassination was clearly someone of considerable power.
Ryan figured that, given how close he'd come to dying just from crossing over into this world in the first place, he was hardly some "Chosen One of Fate."
Counting on luck alone, he could end up dead without even understanding how.
Above all else... survival came first!
...
The Weasel Bandit Gang possessed its own independent mobile steam fortress — something like an eight-legged crab, rust-mottled all over. Roughly the size of a small town, its permanent population never exceeded three thousand.
This "Ghoul-tier" small mechanical city boasted excellent mobility and considerable travel speed.
(Mechanical city scale classifications, roughly ranked: Ghoul-tier, War Elephant-tier, Behemoth Lord-tier, Dragon City Overlord-tier...)
In pursuit of maximum travel speed, the bandit gang had stripped away everything except the absolutely necessary structures — abandoning anything that existed purely for "comfort." Living quarters were as crude as tin shipping containers; the dining hall didn't even have seating; and there were no large-caliber cannons installed at all...
This was precisely why this long-established bandit gang had managed to run rampant across the wasteland for years without being wiped out by imperial forces.
They were like nimble hound-hares out on the wasteland, always managing to slip past the jaws of hungry wolves.
At this very moment, the iron crab's boilers billowed thick black smoke as it sped across Frostspine Wasteland at full throttle.
Meanwhile, just as Ryan finished sorting through his loot, Pisces emerged from a meeting with several of the gang's higher-ups.
As he made his way back toward his own laboratory, a cloaked figure suddenly stepped out and blocked his path.
"Master Pisces, this is the material you requested. And this — this is the operation plan for ten days from now. Please burn it after reading..."
The cloaked man handed over a scroll, then vanished silently into the shadows of the cabin.
"The black-market auction ten days from now — launch the encirclement operation..."
Pisces studied the encrypted intelligence on the scroll with an expressionless face, his brow lifting slightly, a flicker of delight crossing his features. "Three years... it's finally time to close the net."
Years of careful planning, and finally, he would never again have to serve as an undercover agent within this filthy bandit gang.
The merit earned from completing this mission would be more than enough to secure him the advancement knowledge and gene formula needed to become a three-star Serum Master...
A three-star Serum Master — that was the threshold into the ranks of high nobility.
"Hm..."
But as he continued reading further into the intelligence, the expression in Pisces's eyes grew increasingly dark.
The intelligence report read: Baron Morin, real name Sherwood Andrei, formerly a wasteland explorer for the Sid Empire, obtained the title of baron by donating a Gold-grade serum to the royal family...
This was, unmistakably, top-secret noble intelligence — information only the Ormar royal family had clearance to access.
"A Gold-grade formula? So this is how Morin obtained his title after all..."
Pisces read through the report, his eyes darting back and forth.
As though privy to deeper details, a theory formed in his mind: "It seems the Dracula family — the ones secretly backing Quinn — must have made their move. No wonder they had enough power to get Quinn to commit murder right inside Steelburn Fort..."
The previous operation had been strictly top-secret; aside from Boss Quinn himself, no one knew the client's identity.
The sheer strangeness of the situation had put Pisces on guard from the start.
Looking at it now — he'd well and truly hooked a big fish!
And from this piece of intelligence, Pisces deduced a truly staggering truth.
If a single Gold-grade serum formula had been enough to buy a title, and had even drawn the covetous attention of the Sid Empire's royal "Dracula family"... that could only mean this Dr. Morin possessed something absolutely extraordinary!
At this thought, a sharp gleam suddenly flashed in Pisces's cloudy eyes. "So it seems that kid really might be holding onto some enormous secret after all. Hmph, and quite the cunning little thing, too..."
After a moment's thought, he spoke into the darkness somewhere: "Send word to the organization — tell them I need a Hypnotist to assist with this mission. Have one dispatched to me as soon as possible!"
"Understood."