Chapter 205: The Five Orange Pips (11)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 205: The Five Orange Pips (11)
— Flare!
“… Ah.”
A sardonic smile played across my lips as I delivered a decisive blow to the source of the erosion slowly consuming this world. However, my amusement was short-lived; the scrap of paper quickly burst into flames and disintegrated into ash.
“Looks like I hit the bullseye.”
This phenomenon only confirmed that I hadn’t misjudged the entity’s true identity.
To be honest, given the blatant clues, it was harder not to figure out who the culprit was.
From the squirming, tentacle-like appendages lurking in the shadows to the specific biography of a late 19th and early 20th-century American horror writer—and, of course, the keyword Cosmicism.
Factor in the blatant racism, and there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in my mind: the mastermind was Lovecraft.
…Of course, the gender must have been swapped, right?
In this world, where famous figures underwent gender reversal more often than not, she had undoubtedly been transformed into a woman.
She likely maintained all the original traits: reclusive, nerdy, gothic, hipster, and bigoted.
“Tch.”
The idea that such a person was behind the world's erosion was somewhat ludicrous, but that didn’t mean she could be underestimated.
Although I had identified the culprit, this was the late 19th century, not the 21st-century "Information Age." If this were the modern era, catching Lovecraft—who would likely be holed up in a room posting inflammatory rants on social media—would be a simple task.
However, locating her in the vast expanse of the United States based solely on a surname was a nightmare in this era, even with the aid of magic.
Regrettably, I had intentionally excluded tracking and detection spells when I crafted this world to preserve the integrity of the mystery genre.
I should have memorized where Lovecraft lived…
Had I known the specific area she resided in, things might be different. But as a purist of the mystery genre, I had always disliked that author and never bothered to look up her whereabouts. This meant finding her in the American wilderness would take a considerable amount of time.
The problem was that she wouldn't just sit idly by.
She might have scampered off the moment I revealed her name, but now that her identity was exposed, Lovecraft would certainly act.
She had mentioned reading my information. I had a hunch her ability involved writing or inscribing in her book to launch remote attacks.
According to her, I possessed some inexplicable immunity to her powers, so I didn't fear for my own safety. The issue was the people around me.
While the Professor could easily turn those tentacles into takoyaki, even Charlotte—who could now fight on par with the Professor for brief bursts—had nearly died last time without my intervention. The System had calculated a staggering 40% chance of her death.
To control cosmic horrors and the anomalous monsters currently blanketing the world… yes, that fit Lovecraft’s MO perfectly. And that made her extremely dangerous.
Fortunately, my bluff had worked for now, so she would remain cautious for a while. But it was only a matter of time before she made her move.
If her claim about finding a way to deal with the Professor was true, then the moment her full-scale assault began, London—and the rest of the world—falling into a playground for cosmic horrors was a foregone conclusion.
“Fucking hell… damn it all.”
Of all things, it had to be the Cthulhu Mythos. The works I despised most.
Why do people treat these "Great Old Ones"—who look like nothing more than overgrown squid-heads—as beings of ultimate cosmic terror?
I might have British blood in my veins, but having been raised in Korea, those creatures were more familiar to me as food than as objects of dread.
Frankly, those ignorant things squirming in front of me would be delicious with some red pepper paste and sesame oil. Just thinking about it made my mouth water.
Besides, isn't Cthulhu actually a bit of a pushover?
That so-called cosmic horror fled after getting rammed by a single steamship. The Professor could probably sink dozens of ships with one hand tied behind her back.
…I need to calm down.
I was getting worked up, but I couldn't help it. The world I had worked so hard to develop while shunning the rest of society was being eroded by my least favorite mythos.
It was bad enough that the shitty company’s story team was trying to ruin my world, but now I had to deal with these tentacle-freaks too?
…I need to wrap up my plans quickly.
It was imperative that I completed the grand design I was currently working on as fast as possible.
“Miss System, I have a question.”
While deep in thought, I addressed the air.
“Even if I don’t capture the main culprit, Lovecraft, will the erosion cease if I complete my objectives as the Probability of this world?”
A moment later, a simple, clear answer appeared before my eyes.
[Yes.]
That one word was all I needed.
“…Good.”
I would still try to capture Lovecraft if the opportunity arose, but there was no need to risk my life for it. After all, if Lovecraft’s abilities were sealed once I completed all the quests, it was only a matter of time before she was caught.
…By the remaining heroines, that is.
[By the way, your remaining quests are as follows—]
◈ Quests
“…Thank you.”
A wave of bitterness washed over me. I frowned, gently patting the system window that had so "kindly" displayed my tasks, and began to walk.
“But first, I need to finish the task at hand.”
I snapped my fingers, instantly dissolving the barrier in the room. Then, I moved to support the unconscious Princess, helping her to her feet.
“By the way, thank you for throwing yourself in front of me earlier.”
Why did she do that?
I turned my head slightly and whispered softly to the System.
“Thank you, System Sis.”
………
“…You really are the only one I can call ‘Sister’ in this strange world.”
The floating system window paused its output for a moment, then abruptly vanished.
…I thought it flickered red for a second. Was that my imagination?
I was secretly hoping that teasing the System might yield some hidden rewards, but I was probably expecting too much.
“S-Sister, you say…?”
“……..”
“H-How presumptuous…”
I ignored the Princess’s sleep-talking and left the room.
“…Come to think of it, Lovecraft was an avid admirer of the KKK, wasn't he?”
I had no intention of sparing those who had hurt Lestrade and Blaze from the start. Now that I knew they were the underlings of the final boss, I felt no hesitation in finishing the job.
.
.
.
That night, at the headquarters of the KKK in the United States.
“G-Grand Wizard!”
“…What now?”
A member burst into the room. The middle-aged man sitting cross-legged in the center opened his eyes slightly, his brow furrowed in irritation.
“Huff… huff…”
“Has another branch been attacked? Or has another overseas operation been shut down?”
The man had reached the realm of Grand Wizard, a level of mana mastery only a handful of people in the world could attain. He reigned as a shadow over American society, commanding a legion of cult-like followers.
“I don’t understand why we’re under so much pressure lately… It’s not like our lobbying funds have run dry…”
His concerns were valid; the sudden investigations and attacks coming from all directions had been relentless.
“…Moreover, the scale of these incidents is too large to be the work of those detestable minorities.”
“Ugh… huff…”
“So, what is the news this time?”
The leader of the KKK, his face twisted with annoyance, continued to press the panting subordinate.
“W-W-We’ve received a message from the British branch…”
“…Hmm?”
The member finally caught his breath, and the words he uttered made the leader’s eyes widen.
“The Illustrious One has personally made contact.”
“…What?”
“G-G-Grand Wizard, he wants to meet you in person… Here, there is also a letter.”
“Give it here.”
After a moment of stunned silence, the leader snatched the letter.
“Oh… Ohhhh!”
His expression shifted to one of pure joy as he scanned the contents.
“I-Is this real? Is there proof it’s really him?”
“…Th-That’s the thing. Only you, the esteemed Grand Wizard, should be able to recognize the handwriting in the instructions the Illustrious One sends, right?”
“Right. No one else could possibly imitate That person’s handwriting…”
The national leader of the KKK stood up, trembling with excitement.
“Notify all members!”
“W-W-What should I tell them?”
“We are heading to the British Empire!”
“…What?”
“The Illustrious One is finally ready to welcome us!”
The subordinate stared at him, shocked.
“There, we will write a glorious new chapter in the pages of history…!”
“B-But… sir, if so many of us move to Britain at once during these times… there will be many difficulties…”
The leader’s eyes snapped to the subordinate, filled with a sudden, terrifying madness.
“…Are you defying me?”
“N-No, sir…”
The member choked back his words, terrified by the lunacy in the leader's gaze.
“The Illustrious One… has promised power. With that power, we can exterminate every disgusting species in this world!”
“Understood, then…”
The subordinate nodded frantically, yielding to the crazed orders.
“Charter a ship immediately. I don’t care about the cost—book every vessel that can sail within the day!”
“Ye-Yes!”
The letter on the desk glowed subtly under the moonlight filtering through the window.
“The executives will head to Britain first. Then, the rest will follow sequentially…”
Strangely, the letter written in Lovecraft’s handwriting seemed to tremble every now and then.
.
.
.
“………Huh?”
The following dawn, a few hours after departing from the United States, the large ships bound for Britain carried the leader and the top brass of the KKK.
“”……….””
On the deck of the lead ship, the Grand Wizard was enjoying the moonlight and sipping champagne with his executives when they all froze, their expressions turning vacant as they stared at the sky.
— Gooooooooooogooooooooo…
A massive creature with grey scales, grey wings, and piercing grey eyes—a beast straight out of myth and legend—floated above the sea, staring down at them with a gaze that chilled their very souls.
“…A dragon?”
Just a few minutes later, the KKK disappeared forever into the depths of the sea, becoming part of the eternally unsolved mystery that Watson would later publish as The Five Orange Pips.