Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended

CHAPTER 166: Whispers from Below

The magic seal—the metaphorical deadlock that wasn't meant to be opened by just any guest—utterly gave way to Fay's silent request for entry. As the door eased open, she felt as though she had crossed an invisible threshold, the atmosphere seemingly shifting from shadowed night to radiant day. The sensation was so peculiar that her eyes widened in awe, her breath catching at the unexpected transition.

"Wh-What is this place?" she uttered in a quiet whisper as she glanced around the brightly lit space.

Before her stretched a pristine room, its white walls and immaculate surfaces reflecting an almost otherworldly perfection. Sparse furnishings were neatly arranged, their polished edges free of even the faintest blemish.

At the heart of the room, a bed rested within the radiance of a large magic circle, its intricate symbols pulsing with a soothing rhythm. The aura spread outward, evoking the tranquil feeling and cadence of ocean waves softly lapping at the shore. The air was impossibly clean—untainted by dust or impurity—and carried a tangible essence of mana so pure it seemed to hum with life itself.

On the bed, a young girl lay, her delicate form appearing untouched by the harshness of the world. The formula weaved into the magic circle enveloped her in a gentle embrace, its soft glow weaving a cocoon of calm that held her in a deep, unbroken sleep. Yet beneath the serene surface, subtle traces of suffering remained: her pale complexion, the faint twitch of her brow, and the barely perceptible tension in her features—proof that no spell could completely erase her pain.

Fay's voice was soft with sorrow as she whispered, "I can feel it... she's in unbearable pain. But what's wrong with her?"

In an attempt to calm the rapid thrum of her heartbeat, Fay's trembling fingers brushed against the orange scarf snugly wrapped around her neck. She inhaled deeply, the soft fabric offering a fleeting sense of comfort.

Yet, her gaze betrayed her unease as it wandered across the sterile room again. It was clear that the girl on the bed was being kept here under strict care. But then, why were her wrists and ankles restrained? Was she perhaps being kept here against her will—a silent prisoner within a pristine cage? Or worse, a helpless guinea pig in some sick experiment?

As these thoughts churned in her mind, Fay couldn't help but be reminded of Reginald's manor and the horrors she had witnessed there.

"I don't understand," she murmured, her eyes grief-stricken as she glanced down at the girl before her. "Why would Ms. Lefahne and Mr. Zurrel do this?"

All this time, were they perhaps not being entirely transparent with her? And what exactly did this mean for her own fate? Was the kindness they had shown—taking her in, offering her a warm bed and food—nothing more than a carefully crafted façade, a means to turn her into a mere subject for their experiments? Could this be the secret behind the incredible effectiveness of their potions—why their products were so highly coveted?

Fay pressed her hands to her head, swaying as her eyes fluttered with panic. "No, this... this can't be happening."

Sympathizing with the girl's plight while grappling with her own turmoil, Fay knelt beside the bed. She cradled the girl's hand gently within both of her own, her thumbs resting softly against the small, cold fingers. Lowering her forehead to her hands, she closed her eyes, letting out a slow breath as she attempted to clear her mind.

With every beat of her heart, her thoughts swirled, racing to find a way out of this situation. But as her pulse hammered in her ears and her concentration heightened, rather than a solution, a strange energy stirred within her—fragments of something ancient, a power that had long lain dormant in the depths of her mind. It bubbled to the surface of her subconsciousness, as though responding to her need for guidance.