The noise of the celebration slowly died down. The glow from the crystal chandeliers dimmed, and the staff moved quietly as they cleared the hall.
Sitch, his face slightly flushed from wine, patted Muzan on the shoulder with forced warmth. He muttered a few final instructions about file handling before leaving in high spirits, surrounded by several senior officials.
Muzan kept his polite smile in place as he watched them go. Only after the heavy doors shut did that expression fade, returning to his usual detached look.
His crimson eyes scanned the now empty hall before settling on Kokushibo, who stood still like an unmoving mountain.
"Did you record everything?" Muzan asked, his tone soft but cold.
Kokushibo's six eyes shifted faintly. "Yes. Every name, department, and file reference they implied should be handled has been noted."
Back in their cold yet spacious suite, Gyokko was still focused on repairing his broken pot. Hantengu sat curled into himself on the sofa. Daki examined a small souvenir from the banquet with curiosity while Gyutaro remained beside her in silence.
Muzan stepped into the center of the room and closed his eyes. A ripple stirred deep within his gaze as he activated the psychic link granted by Sol. Every detail he gathered, names, departments, and coded requests, was transmitted without omission.
After sending the information, Muzan opened his eyes again and looked out at the glittering night view of City A.
"We await the Ancestor's command," he said quietly.
Far below, deep within City Z, inside the twisting tunnels of the Monster Association, Sol sat cross-legged on a flat slab of rock. Patterns of red and blue flickered beneath his skin like a steady pulse, releasing a heavy, suffocating pressure.
The surrounding stone carried a faint glow, shaped by the power leaking from his body.
Then the energy around him shifted slightly, like a ripple across still water.
Sol opened his eyes. A faint smile appeared as understanding settled in.
Muzan's message had arrived.
"As expected," he murmured.
The names on the list did not surprise him. He had already suspected corruption within the Association's leadership. What amused him was how quickly they tried to use newfound power to erase old problems.
With a thought, he sent his reply through the link.
"List confirmed. Stay low."
He closed his eyes again, preparing to continue refining his power, but another signal interrupted him. This one came from Psykos.
"Lord Sol," her voice carried restrained excitement along with clear fatigue. "The first phase is complete. Using your cell samples, I have created the first generation of directionally enhanced Monster Cells."
"It allows controlled monsterization. Stability and amplification surpass all previous versions."
A red glint passed through Sol's eyes. "Results?"
"The data is beyond expectations," Psykos replied quickly. "After injection, the user's physical abilities increase across the board while maintaining most of their reasoning. The only risk is overload. Excessive energy use could cause detonation."
She paused briefly.
"That is based on simulations and low-tier test subjects. For someone like you, that risk is almost nonexistent."
Sol rose to his feet as the patterns beneath his skin faded.
"I'm coming."
As he moved through the tunnels, the weaker monsters scattered out of his path. The closer he got to Psykos's lab, the stronger the strange energy in the air became.
The metal door slid open.
Psykos stood at the control station, her expression caught between exhaustion and obsession. In her hands was a specialized container. Inside, a dark red cell pulsed slowly, releasing faint sparks.
"This is the first generation," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I call it the Seed of God."
Sol took the container, feeling the immense energy within.
"Can I just take it directly?" he asked.
Psykos blinked, then shook her head. "No. It requires injection. Your digestive system would break it down and reduce its effectiveness."
She pointed toward an adjacent device.
"Lie down there. I will handle the process."
Sol handed the container back and laid on the table without hesitation. Psykos worked quickly, loading the substance into a specialized injector.
"There may be discomfort," she said, aiming at his vein. "This formula is tailored specifically for your body."
The moment the dark red liquid entered his bloodstream, heat surged through him.
The patterns beneath his skin flared brightly, flickering like active circuits.
Sol shut his eyes and focused, guiding the new energy into alignment with his own.
Pain spread through every part of him. His cells broke apart and reformed again and again.
Still, he remained composed. Compared to his previous transformation, this was manageable.
Thirty minutes later, the process ended.
Sol opened his eyes. A trace of dark gold flickered within the crimson.
He clenched his fist lightly. The air compressed and burst with a sharp sound.
Psykos watched nervously as data streamed across her devices.
"How is it?"
Sol did not answer immediately. He stood up, and the pressure radiating from him forced Psykos to step back.
"It is incomplete," he said.
The increase was smaller than expected, roughly a third of his current peak. However, something more interesting had happened. The new cell accelerated his evolution, pushing one of his absorbed abilities to completion.
He had not been idle lately. He had been collecting abilities from the Monster Association's executives, one by one. Most of them had already experienced his methods firsthand. Complaints spread, but none dared oppose him openly.
Psykos reviewed the data.
"Your base is already too high. That limits the amplification. For others, this would be a massive leap."
Sol gave a slight nod.
"Can it be produced in large numbers?"
"Not yet," Psykos replied, frustration clear in her voice. "The success rate is low, and the materials are rare. This batch already used most of what we had."
Before she could say more, a sharp alarm echoed through the lab.
Psykos immediately switched the display to the entrance feed.
Her expression changed at once.
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