Chapter 524

Hanging beneath the rat’s skull was something resembling a spine, but it was not a spine.

To be precise… it could be described as something that had undergone processing on the spine.

“Let me take a look…”

Jinseong pulled out a strand of hair. He inserted the extracted strand between his fingertips and concentrated his mental energy. The strand of hair wriggled alive, responding to Jinseong’s will, gliding toward the rat’s skull. It moved very secretly yet swiftly, much like an actual parasite would.

The hair dove into the rat’s head, piercing the skin and swimming through the muscles. It bumped against the bones, then resumed moving through the muscles again. Eventually, it reached the spine, carefully positioning its end to probe inside, much like a blind person feeling their way forward by touch.

The process was not easy. The rat’s spine was impenetrable, as if it had been thoroughly coated with some protective layer. However, the wriggling strand managed to find a gap. The hair slipped through that narrow space and entered inside the spine.

Once inside, the strand moved about freely, like it was playing around inside the fortified walls. After a short while, it seemed to have had its fill of playtime, and it exited, flailing and falling to the ground. It was much like how a wet strand of hair might momentarily float in the air before dropping to the ground.

Jinseong picked up the fallen strand, placing it back between his fingers. He closed his eyes and began to piece together the information transmitted by the strand.

To be separated and yet long to be one again is the way of all things. A branch stemming from the same root may grow in opposite directions, but its origin remains the same. And whether flowers flourish and turn into forests or fields of blooms, their root cause undeniably exists.

Similarly, the strand of hair followed this principle—it was a part of Jinseong. And just as one can move their body to obtain information…

The hair, once detached and now returned to his hand, was no different.

Thus, Jinseong savored the sensations the hair had experienced during its exploration, piecing together the fragmentary and rudimentary data it carried with the fragments stored within his memory.

And thus, he obtained the information.

“The Eye of Apollo, indeed.”

He remembered seeing something similar before the regression.

“The Eye of Apollo.”

A byproduct of the United States’ national security project, the ‘Dodecatheon Project.’ In the world pre-regression, this was one of the factors that made infiltrating the United States difficult. Post the third World War, when the U.S. had descended into chaos, this once formidable surveillance system had become obsolete and largely ignored.

This system was first researched around the time of the First World War and had only reached completion in modern times.

Initially, the project aimed to use animals for surveillance and reconnaissance purposes. This began by attaching recording devices or bugs to the bodies of animals. As science advanced, they developed methods to replace the eyes of animals with cameras, and in the current era—

“Microchip.”

Embedding a microchip in the body of animals became an “easy” solution, marking the project’s completion.

Through the joint efforts of talented wizards and scientists, they invented a microchip that activates once attached to the spine of specific animals. It releases magical and chemical substances, coating the spine and seizing control of the nervous system. This enables it to intercept electric signals and even record the visuals from what the animal sees in poor resolution, sending this footage to the intelligence agency’s server.

The invention of the microchip, the development of wireless communication, the everyday use of Wi-Fi, and the natural existence of a world where small animals can move undetected— All of these innovations converged to create a groundbreaking surveillance system.

And that system was the “Eye of Apollo.”

Thunk.

Jinseong dropped the rat’s head on the ground, nudging it aside with his foot.

“Still, there seem to be many imperfect aspects. It’s likely still a prototype, if not an ongoing development…”

In the pre-regression era, the Eye of Apollo, while of low resolution, was indeed a formidable surveillance system. It faithfully performed its role of monitoring and recording at any time and place. Whether indoors, underground, or even in the sewers, it continued to transmit video. It would automatically record and send footage once a transmission signal was restored when inside a building that disrupted radio waves. These rats acted as more than just spy bots, accomplishing tasks that even sophisticated surveillance drones might find challenging.

However, the current incarnation seemed less advanced. Perhaps with a little disturbance, the connection to the servers would sever. The transmitted video would likely be full of noise and frequently cut off.

Would the resolution even reach 144p?

Certainly, it was useful, but compared to the pre-regression version, it appeared lacking.

“It seems they’ve focused more on audio rather than visual quality, like before the regression…”

Jinseong realized this with a nod and looked up, gazing at the building visible through the window. On the building and streetlights, pigeons gathered, some napping lazily while others played with each other or flew down to peck at crumbs before returning to the lights.

These pigeons looked typical from a distance, though they were slightly more aggressive than those seen in Korea.

Jinseong watched them silently for a moment before raising his hand. He then placed his left hand at the chest level, palm facing up, while his right hand was raised above his head, palm facing down. Following an intricate motion, his right hand collided with his left.

Peng!

The palms meeting did not produce the usual “slap” sound but was instead a crack of something bursting, emitting an invisible wave that headed toward the pigeons. Like a breeze sweeping through, it brushed over the birds and passed through—

Thunk.

Thud.

Thud-thud.

A few pigeons, among the flock perched on the building and lights, suddenly lost control of their bodies and began falling to the ground, as if they had been struck by a sniper’s bullet or had frozen instantly due to sudden cold.

The pigeons that fell to the ground didn’t move, as if mocking their earlier vigorous activity. They were eventually kicked aside by busy passersby.

Jinseong, seeing this, nodded.

“So, the Eye of Aphrodite exists too.”

The Dodecatheon Project, named after the twelve gods of Mount Olympus, couldn’t possibly contain only the Eye of Apollo.

If the rat represents the “Eye of Apollo,” then birds must represent the “Eye of Aphrodite.”

“Pigeons symbolize Aphrodite.”

Pigeons have long been one of humanity’s most utilized animals. They were used as livestock for meat, for ornamental purposes, as pets, and even for delivering messages after training. During the world wars, they were used for observation and as tools to guide missiles.

The project known as “Project Pigeon” gained some recognition due to its unconventional concept.

And humans, whenever they found use in something, sought to exploit it. Pigeons were no exception, falling under the American influence.

Because pigeons can fly, they were dearly loved by intelligence agencies and were treated with more care than the simple microchipped rats. They would replace eyes with cameras, hide machinery within their feathers, and sometimes even embed chips allowing them to be controlled remotely or, more simply, release ones that had been trained.

These modified pigeons would circle around their “target” continuously transmitting high-definition photos and videos, far exceeding the quality that rats could provide.

“Considering pigeons and rats, with the present level of roughness, it means this system hasn’t spread throughout the entire United States, and likely, they’ve only attached them to high-priority targets…”

Additionally, there’s the server problem. The U.S. has yet to develop graphene semiconductors or construct the “world’s largest server farm” using them. Factories worldwide haven’t been repatriated to produce surveillance equipment en masse.

Therefore, their only option is to monitor only the high-priority few using their existing facilities.

“Priorities, priorities…”

Jinseong recalled Lucas’ face.

A villain.

A wolf obsessed with making money.

But when evaluating priorities, Lucas seems ambiguous, not quite ranking at the very top.

“Perhaps there’s some hidden factor behind it.”

Jinseong decided he needed to investigate Lucas further.

However, at the same time, he felt that staying fixed on Lucas would be a waste of time.

The U.S. is vast, and there are infinite possibilities. Moreover, Lucas was not the only one likely to benefit from the butterfly effect.

To verify other possibilities, he would need to move around.

“On second thought, leaving here would be a grave mistake.”

No matter how much he thought about it, it was a bad choice. Withdrawing here would limit his opportunities to learn more about Lucas, and certainly, they’d attach pigeons and rats to spy on Jinseong due to their connection.

Or worse, they might apply “national security measures” upon realizing he had become aware of the pigeons and rats.

If that happens, it could become quite bothersome.

On balance, it seemed advantageous to stay for a while.

“Perfect. Expanding one’s knowledge is also important for training, so I might as well use this period for that.”

If choosing one is difficult, choose both. To avoid loss, simply abandon the losing option and reap the benefits.

And how could that be achieved?

It’s possible.

At least for him, it is.

Because his body was not singular.