Hacking the Game Didn’t Go as Intended

April was just a few meters away from the door leading into Reginald’s lab, but still her confident strides did not slow. It was the way of kids to believe that they were invincible, and April was no different—especially when anger constituted the heady cocktail that pulsed through her veins.

The double doors were open to a slight ajar, casting a slender column of light upon the red carpet that lined the long corridor. Like a predator stalking prey, April got down on all fours, weapon in hand, and sneaked a peek at the bad man who had made both Sheba and her brother sad.

Her heart pounded in her small chest, but it was a symphony of encouragement, not surrender. Before she could push to her feet with an energy fueled from a lifetime of indignation and poverty, salvation unfurled its giant wings.

“Mmm—”

April suddenly felt a pair of capable hands restraining her from behind, one securely covering her mouth so she wouldn’t make a peep.

“April,” Daisuke whispered in disbelief, turning her around slowly. “What’s gotten into you? It’s not like you to be so reckless!”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pouted. “But he… he made you cry. I can’t forgive him for hurting my friends.”

Daisuke’s expression softened, and then he pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry I made you see that moment of weakness, but I’m all better now. Your big brother will definitely get us out of this mess.”

“H-Hn!” she nodded with a sob.

Her face now buried in his chest, Daisuke’s expression hardened as he looked to Sylvia who had just arrived on the scene. “How bad is it?” he asked.

Sylvia hung her head, the details of her face shrouded in shadows. “…She’s all but an empty shell now. She hasn’t eaten or uttered a word since, just vacantly staring into the distance.”

Daisuke gnashed his teeth, and as if his hatred suddenly became palpable—

“Who’s there?” Reginald asked in a stern voice from inside the room. “Show yourself at once.”

Almost simultaneously, Daisuke passed April to Sylvia with a telling gaze before pushing to his feet.

“It’s just me,” he said upon pushing the doors open. “Sorry to intrude; I hesitated because I didn’t know if it was a good time.”

“Nonsense,” the man gestured with warm hospitality and a sincere smile. “A matter of fact, your timing is perfect—oh, how was the afternoon treat I sent? Was it to your liking?”

Daisuke preserved the integrity of his face. He didn’t know if the man meant brunch or the slave he sent, but just to err on the side of caution, he assumed it was the latter.

“It was excellent! I truly appreciate you looking out for me in every regard,” he confessed with a bow. “It’s enough to wash away the hardships I endured during my time in captivity. I’m eternally grateful.”

“Now, now,” the man fanned his hand dismissively. “Enough of that—I’m sure you would do the same for a fellow nobleman, if our roles were reversed.”

He continued when Daisuke raised his head.

“My great-great grandfather, Cedric Oswald Percival, brought the flame of alchemy into our family’s lineage. He achieved remarkable strides in his studies, though regrettably, much of his legacy remains fragmented.

Nonetheless, despite the slender threads he left behind, his wisdom spurred my great grandfather onto the path of a chemist. From that point onward, the Percivals earned renown for their alchemical pursuits, and the torch was passed through each successive generation.

The kingdom’s scorn and our subsequent condemnation only stoked my resolve to thrive. With revenge as a driving force, I now stand at the precipice of a wondrous breakthrough, fueled by ambition and the thirst for retribution.”

At the center of his lab, Reginald unveiled his current endeavor with an almost crazed grin. He invited Daisuke to approach. A long table was organized with a myriad of elements plucked from the periodic table—an array of powders, rocks fragments, and liquids of various colors. A collection of materials sourced from plants and creatures also constituted the list.

Next to the table, the stone floor showcased a wide transmutation circle drawn in chalk, stretching about ten feet in diameter. And at its heart sat a rectangular object covered with a plain white sheet.

As the man vented his frustration about a minor yet elusive snag in the procedure that thwarted his aspirations, Daisuke felt an inexplicable pull towards the scattered parchments on the table.

Each sheet featured an intricate rendering of the inner circles: symmetrical lines, arches, symbols, and letters that made up the larger model etched on the ground.

Daisuke found himself skimming through them, entranced as if caught in the embrace of an otherworldly spell.

In mathematics, a particular sequence existed that had to be followed when solving an equation.

One added to one equal two; six divided by two results in three; and four multiplied by four yields sixteen. But what happens when you intertwine all these expressions with diverse operations: 3× (4+2) – 8 ÷ 2?

If calculations are carried out from left to right without any specific sequence, the answer becomes ten, which is incorrect. The right answer is actually fourteen. To properly solve this expression, one must adhere to the order of operations, often remembered using the acronym PEMDAS (Parentheses, Exponents, Multiplication and Division, Addition and Subtraction).

In the case of the alchemical formula, what was lacking were indicators—symbols that would signify the sequence in which each inner circle resonated with one another within the transmutation circle.

Whether propelled subconsciously, by ego, or some other equally potent force, Daisuke instinctively began addressing the discrepancy, even before his conscious mind could fully grasp the task.

Infuriated by what he perceived as vandalism, Reginald’s rage manifested in a violent kick that sent Daisuke hurtling to the ground with a pained grunt.

“W-Wait! This is… I can’t believe it! You’ve actually rectified the problem that’s tormented me for years!”

Rather than offering a formal apology for the unnecessary assault, Reginald’s emotions shot toward elation instead. His visage contorted into an eccentric expression, a malevolent grin that stretched from ear to ear.

With a contented huff, he unveiled the sheet covering the object nestled within the circle’s center, revealing a disheveled and distressed woman. She was gagged and bounded by chains, her smudged cosmetics and tattered regal attire hinting at nobility.

Daisuke’s eyes widened in alarm, darting between Reginald, who seemed utterly absorbed in his own realm, and the woman, who seemed on the brink of death.

“This… Wait! Who is she?”

“My mother,” came the response, delivered without an ounce of empathy. “Or, at least, that’s who she once was to me. Now, she’s nothing but a contemptible woman who’s plummeted from grace.

If she hadn’t left after the incident, my father might still be alive. The ease with which she abandoned us is proof enough that she’s a harlot—a parasitic presence who cares about nobody else but herself. It’s only fitting that she pays for her transgressions with her wretched life.”

Daisuke didn’t argue.

Instead, Sylvia’s earlier comments about Reginald’s tendency to use slaves as experimental subjects resurfaced in his mind. It was evident that, at this point in the man’s existence, human life held little significance for him, particularly for those who had crossed him.

While Daisuke cast a sympathetic gaze toward the woman, Reginald shot her one of disdain before pouring his energy into the transmutation circle. “Give the king my regards… when you see him in hell.”

The woman’s eyes widened with terror as the circle hummed to life, emanating a blinding light. Despite her gagged cries and frantic thrashing, her desperate will to survive proved futile against the unyielding restraints.

Meanwhile, her son’s cold heart remained unmoved, rejecting her very existence.

Daisuke yelled at Reginald, pleading for him to reconsider, to have mercy, but his menacing guffaw pierced the air, overshadowing all but his own voice.

When his mother was suddenly engulfed by an unholy fire that seared her flesh and twisted her humanity, Reginald finally swallowed his laugh. Wide, beady eyes watched the manifestation of his life’s work with uncontrollably excitement.

“…I knew all along.”

Daisuke rose to his feet as those words descended upon him like a dark curse. He slowly began stepping back toward the exit as a foul and sinister energy began rolling off the entity that was gradually taking shape in the circle.

“I was fully aware of your deception from the very beginning.”

Fear of monsters & the unknown: 24.4%