Obsidian lifted his hand as he processed the flood of information surging through his mind. Then, hesitantly, he lowered it again, momentarily overcome with shock.
He knew exactly what this [Singularity Technology] represented.
It was the core [Singularity Technology] of Lobotomy Corporation from the original work, primarily used for energy production, [Aberration] extraction, and crafting [EGO]. It was a remarkably comprehensive and valuable technology—after all, [Neurophin], the celebrated clean energy source, was a product of this very technology.
If scaled sufficiently, it could undoubtedly fulfill The City's energy demands and even create a surplus for export. Energy was always valuable, resistant to depreciation, and [Neurophin] completely surpassed [Originium] in terms of extraction difficulty, efficiency, and safety.
But unfortunately, significant obstacles remained before he could fully harness [Mental Manifestation].
It wasn't a technical issue; rather, critical infrastructure was missing.
"To effectively put this [Singularity Technology] to use and mass-produce [Neurophin]... I'll have to solve at least three major issues."
Obsidian stretched out his hand, silently counting off these issues in his mind.
The first problem: Manpower.
Lobotomy Corp's [Singularity Tech] was fundamentally human-centered—in fact, employees there were essentially disposable energy-producing commodities. Obsidian would need people—lots and lots of people.
Yet, compared to other problems, this was actually the simplest. The manpower issue could be managed relatively easily, and Obsidian wasn't overly concerned about sourcing enough disposable workers as The City's population expanded.
But beyond manpower, the second problem arose: [Aberrations] themselves.
In the original, [Aberrations] were extracted directly from The [Well]. Lobotomy Corp's [Well] was made from humans, connected directly to the Sea... By that logic, Obsidian's own small cabin [Well] might technically serve the same purpose—
—but there was one glaring, unavoidable issue.
What should he do once an [Aberration] was drawn out? After all, they'd manifest directly inside his little cabin.
If he pulled out an A-tier [Aberration]—one of the most dangerous varieties imaginable—the outcome would be so catastrophic Obsidian didn't dare imagine the carnage.
Thus, due to its instability, potential hazards, and his cabin's irreplaceable importance, Obsidian absolutely couldn't risk using this [Well] for [Aberration] extraction.
Yet, without Aberrations, producing energy was impossible...
And finally, the third issue loomed.
Obsidian sighed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose as a faint frown deepened on his face.
Crafting [EGO] equipment.
Here, [EGO] wasn't conveniently crafted with a mere click as in the games; it required skilled technicians who thoroughly understood the underlying principles. Only by mastering the technology could they personally develop usable [EGO] equipment.
In other words, he needed scientific talent. Researchers skilled enough to grasp the details, join The City, and assist in creating [EGO] gear so Obsidian's subordinates could wield them properly.
Luckily, he didn't have to start from scratch—the complete technical details were already in his possession. He didn't require someone at Hohenheim's level of brilliance from the original source material, but still, at least a few skilled researchers were indispensable.
"So I'll need plenty of expendable staff, a solution for [Aberrations], and researchers skilled enough to handle [EGO] development..."
Obsidian drummed his fingers on the desk, murmuring to himself. His mind churned rapidly, searching for ways to overcome these hurdles.
The manpower issue would resolve itself eventually; waiting was enough. As The City's population grew, disposable labor would become readily available. The real headaches were the remaining two problems.
"Researchers... Perhaps it's time I made another diplomatic overture to the outside world."
Slowly standing up, Obsidian gazed into the distance, his thoughts swiftly coming alive.
Exchange. That was the first idea that arose clearly in his mind—he'd offer a small portion of the technology, or even products themselves, to attract scholars from outside. Systematically importing scientists would only benefit The City.
"All right, that settles it. I'll need to quickly confirm my diplomatic targets and identify suitable researchers."
With this decision firmly made, Obsidian turned to the final, most daunting issue:
Obtaining [Aberrations].
He couldn't risk using his cabin's [Well], and building another [Well] was impossible right now. After all, [Wells] were created from living humans, and they required individuals of exceedingly high standards.
This was deeply troublesome…
Obsidian stroked his chin thoughtfully—when suddenly, a fragment of recent memory flashed vividly into his mind.
The strange traces he'd recently discovered around The City outskirts... marks that appeared twisted, even resembling [Aberrations]…
And beyond The City, entities like Sui Xiang and the Seaborn also roamed.
In an instant, Obsidian slapped the desk, rising abruptly to his feet. His consciousness immediately transferred into Hai's form, and without delay, he hurriedly set off toward the La Mancha Fixer Office.
He knew exactly how to tackle these three problems now!
"The era of Lobotomy Corporation dawns… and we shall lead the charge!"
...
A bit later, Don Quixote blinked in confusion upon hearing Hai's words.
"So, you mean… I have a new job now?"
Hai nodded.
"There are numerous monsters around The City outskirts. Your task is straightforward—beat them into submission and deliver them to a designated location. Someone else will handle them from there."
"In short, get up and catch some [Aberrations]."
"But this request…"
"Perhaps someday future Fixers will fondly remember a legendary figure who once dominated The City outskirts. Tales of his thrilling battles of wits and valor against monstrous adversaries might well become the stuff of legends passed down for generations."
Hai's tone carried a dramatic flair as he spoke. Don Quixote fell silent briefly, head bowed, before finally raising it with a smile.
"Heh, you cunning devil… You're lucky—I just so happen to be a sucker for stories like that."
"Send me the mission location right away. Truth be told, I'm already feeling eager… This sounds like a perfect chapter to open anew!"
"So, I accept this commission!"