Chapter 243
Chapter 243
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 243
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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The minister nodded.
"Whatever you desire."
"Our lives are being held hostage. We have to grant the terrorist's demands to lift this curse. If we don't do exactly as he wants, he'll blow us all up right then and there."
As I finished speaking flatly, someone seated across the table remarked in a snide tone, perhaps thrown off by how detached I seemed.
"Shouldn't we figure out what it is he wants as soon as possible? Excellency Ascanien, you seem awfully calm."
Who knows. I'm not exactly at peace on the inside. I need to gather every scrap of information before using Retry, but if the terrorist activates the curse spell right away, I'm dead—no Retry, no nothing. Who could stay relaxed in a situation like this?
Even if I do turn back time, victory isn't guaranteed. Facing an enemy this massive, I might keep rewinding until my points hit zero and still fail.
I'm just fooling myself, too.
I glanced at the blue mana glowing in my palm, then slowly shifted my gaze to look at him.
"Want to know why I'm calm? Because there's nothing we can do."
"Noth…!"
"The terrorist holds all the power from start to finish in this situation. Am I wrong? Since the magic lamp terrorism incident, have any of you accomplished a single thing properly? Fine, then. Why don't you offer proper condolences to the millions of subjects about to die due to your negligence? All you're good for is reporting after the fact that it all went down that way. My name will be on the casualty list, so pray for my soul while you're at it."
"……."
"After letting things spiral this far, make up your mind whether that pride of yours—believing you can uncover the terrorist's demands—is mere bravado, a failure of self-awareness, or a mental victory. The first two make you weak; the last could pass for strategy."
Even though I openly mocked them in a dry, emotionless tone, no one scolded me for it. They were too stunned to think straight. The mage who'd questioned me averted his eyes with a troubled expression and let out a heavy sigh.
I stared at him steadily, then slid the report toward them.
"Now the terrorist will present his demands to us. Since we lack the ability to extract them ourselves, let's focus on finding a way to resolve the situation."
Of course, the emergency committee had done their best in their own way. In under an hour, they'd compiled data and gathered three hundred dismantling experts from across the nation to develop a method. But wouldn't it have been better if they'd jumped into the fray here instead of wasting time wallowing in despair? If they come up with a solution, it'll be useful for me in the next timeline, so I hope they hurry up.
Even if they fail in the end, their helpless attitudes aren't helping at all. There are ministers and mages out in the field doing the legwork, sure, but with the Minister of Magic—the head of the committee—looking like this, they all seem like dead weight I'll have to scrap entirely.
The Minister of Magic must have realized that sitting around talking wouldn't solve anything, because he nodded and rose from his seat. At that moment, several officials around the table clutched their hands and cried out.
"Aaagh!"
"Wh-what?!"
"…!"
A sharp pain shot through my hand as well. It felt like something had struck, as if my wrist artery was about to snap.
'This…'
Finally showing some movement.
I glared at the mark in my palm, now glowing brighter. The once deep blue symbol was nearly white.
Sure enough, it wasn't just randomly lashing out—the urgent voice of someone came from the artifact placed in the center of the table.
[Mi-Minister! Minister! Can you hear me?]
"I can hear you. What's going on?"
[You need to come down to the main stadium right now. Hurry, immediately!]
He was practically screaming. No sane person would speak to the minister like that.
But there wasn't a sane soul on this site right now. The minister bolted outside in a panic. He was so flustered he didn't even think to warp—just ran. The other committee members followed suit. I exchanged a glance with Leo and chased after them.
Mages dispatched from various federations were guarding the darkened opening ceremony venue. Their eyes were fixed on the screens mounted around the stadium. Our gazes followed theirs.
"Th-that…"
"What the hell?"
Several committee members frowned as they scanned the surrounding screens.
Expanded magically to hold 150,000 people, the vast space revealed a broad expanse of sky. White messenger pigeons released by the government for analog communication streaked across the night sky.
And on the black screens slanted against the dome's walls, divine power flickered in white letters. Never mind how they'd manipulated the magic field—the phrases on the three screens were anything but ordinary.
I let out a hollow chuckle as I read them silently in my head.
["Anatomy, Physiology, and Scientific Medicine Archive", 1854 / 230170~230180]
["Fourth Estate Liberation Struggle", Vol. 2, 1875 / 528392~528397]
["Apocalypse of John—Johann Gottfried Herder", 1829 / 25192, 25193, 14615, 7082, 107138, 9521, 268121, 43197, 1077]
'Suddenly?'
"This is…"
The minister muttered with bulging eyes, as if he'd caught on to what it meant.
I said quietly,
"It's just to mess with us."
There was a reason for saying that.
The terrorist was probably trying to give us information this way. But the demands were simple enough that there'd be no need to obscure them, and the format didn't match the dire atmosphere with 1.37 million lives hanging in the balance.
The Minister of Magic tapped the artifact at his ear and shouted.
"Get those books right now! No—contact the Imperial Central Library and have them check the 17th to 18th word on page 230, or lines 17 to 18, of the 1854 Anatomy, Physiology, and Scientific Medicine Archive!"
Even the Minister of Magic, his brain frozen under death pressure, grasped the answer quickly.
It wasn't because he'd suddenly gotten smart. That cipher was a book code commonly used in this era. Here's how it works:
If they give a number like 18325, you find the 25th word on page 183. Sometimes it refers to lines if it's a full sentence.
'At least we found this before rewinding time. Lucky.'
One lingering issue: why give the book titles at all?
For allies, sharing titles is standard. But is this some pointless cipher? For enemies like the terrorist and the imperial government, there's no reason to reveal them.
'Hmm, the culprit's being generous…'
Not without reason. They needed to calibrate the difficulty.
No exam demands solving 100 hard problems in 10 minutes. Examiners balance it—extend time, lower difficulty, reduce problems.
Lowering the difficulty like this means the terrorist recognizes clear limits to our resources. Like manpower, time, mana—
[Minister! We've reached the library director. Connecting you now!]
At the same time, someone arrived carrying a massive brass receiver artifact.
The minister sighed like he'd seen a ray of light and wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Whatever it took to resolve the incident, even if it was just the terrorist's message—it seemed like a relief.
Delegating wasn't my style, so I held out my hand for the receiver. The minister, already burdened, handed it over readily. I cast an amplification spell on it, and an unfamiliar voice boomed out.
[Hello. This is the Director of the Imperial Central Library. Minister Excellency is looking for a book called "Anatomy, Physiology, and Scientific Medicine Archive" published in 1854…]
"Yes, that's correct."
I replied while checking the magic screen high up near the sky again.
230170.
The minister had said page 230, 17th "word or line."
Two possibilities. No time to waste—pick one.
Break down the numbers carefully. Page 23, word 017 doesn't make sense. No reason for the leading zero, so page 230 is definite.
The issue is the trailing 0.
'No reason to tack on that zero at the end.'
Standard paper books don't have 170 lines on page 230.
Assume 170th word, then. Dictionaries or densely packed large magazines split into three columns per page might, but rare otherwise. Cross-check with other books needed, but based on this, the clue the terrorist gave is…
230-17-0 and 230-18-0.
My conclusion:
"Page 230, lines 17 to 18. As fast as possible, please."
[Pardon? Wait, is this a codebook? Understood. Page 230.]
"Found it?"
[Lines 17, 18. Got it.]
The director inhaled once and continued.
["The heart's activity time in an airless room can be assumed to be 30 minutes."… That's it. Is, is this it?]
"……."
The vast space filled with silence. Not a single breath from any living thing. Mages from other federations guarding the stadium looked at us in confusion, while those with marks simply stared wide-eyed at the receiver.
As I stood there silently gaping, someone stammered out,
"Wh-what?! W-wait a minute! What does this…!"
"……."
The faces of those with the mark went deathly pale.
No one answered amid the panic, so I steadied my breath and spoke slowly.
"Looks like we have 30 minutes left to live. The pain earlier probably started the countdown."
[Pardon? What? You have 30 minutes to live?]
Before the director could spout more useless questions, I quickly checked the opposite scoreboard.
528392 to 528397.
"Fourth Estate Liberation Struggle, Vol. 2, 1875 edition—page 528, line 39, second word through the seventh word, please."
Thankfully, the director flipped pages without a word.
[Found it. "An enormous problem that must be solved."]
The moment I turned to check the next screen, someone with a mark asked frantically,
"Are they mocking us?! So how do we solve…!"
"The clue for that should be in the Apocalypse."
I pressed a finger to my lips to silence them. As quiet fell, I called out the third cipher.
"Apocalypse of John by Johann Gottfried Herder, 1829. Page 25, line 19, second and third words; page 146, line 1, fifth word…"
[W-wait! Yes, ready. Go ahead!]
"Page 70, line 8, second word; page 107, line 13, eighth word; page 95, line 2, first word."
30 minutes. The rustling of turning pages sounded like a countdown to my death. I felt my heartbeat quickening as I waited for his response. To me, at least, it felt like an eternity.
[Yes, got it. Next, please.]
"Page 268, line 12, first word; page 43, line 19, seventh word; page 10, line 7, seventh word. What does it spell?"
[…I have.]
The director paused briefly, then continued.
[Already shown the answer to over 100 people.]
* * *
"To sum it up from what we've repeated: the terrorist has already shown the answer to solving this problem to many people. Announcing it alongside the 30-minute deadline means we need to find that answer to lift the time limit or the curse. Finding the answer—that's what the terrorist wants. What they gain from it is none of your business."
"Wha—?! Wait…!"
I rattled off my words like a machine gun and bolted from my seat toward the main stadium staff corridor. The panicked minister tried to ask more, but I had no time. I blasted attacks at his pursuing aides and used mana to scoop up a fallen Imperial Newspaper and filter.
Good.
Now I had the clue I'd wanted earlier, too.
22 minutes left to live.
I'd die in 22 minutes. As if proving the deadline was real, one-third of the cross mark on my palm had vanished.
I'd rewind time, but the pressure from this tight number was immense. And if I fail even then, it's just a brief stay of execution. No—the next time, I won't hear the curse chant from the newspaper, so I'll survive alone. But I'll have to read headlines about 1.37 million from across the continent slaughtered. Hear the continent's wails.
I bit the inside of my cheek until blood welled up and swallowed it.
"Eek!"
"He's over there!"
'Hm?'
A sudden unfamiliar shout from somewhere made me turn. And in that instant, I couldn't help but be stunned.
'…?!'
A dog the size of a massive black wolf rounded the corner and charged at me with insane speed. I knew who it was, but before I could even attempt a conversation, it tackled me.
Boom—!
Stunned by the wild beast right in my face, I barely registered the two pursuing guards. They gaped at me and the dog, then thrust their iron prods at it.
"You bastard!"
"No, wait! Hold on a second."
Before another person—or dog—died, I pinned it to the ground and blocked them. Sure, saving him now was pointless with everyone's lives down to under 20 minutes, but considering why this calculating, cautious man had rushed to me like this… he must have something vital to tell me. Even trivial info was precious to me. And given who he was, it wouldn't be trivial.
The two guards looked down at me puzzled. My gaze naturally went to their hands. No marks.
I forced out the words still stuck in my throat from the impact.
"It's… it's my dog. The one I, uh, take care of."
"You take care of it? Why's a dog here…?"
"It used to live on this site. Fed it a few times, and now it wanders into buildings."
I said that as I stood up.
Seeing their confused stares, I quickly added to wrap it up.
"Sorry for the disturbance in this already bad situation. I'll take it outside."
"Ah, sure. It was trying to bite so hard we were in trouble, but it's fine in front of you, sir."
"Haha."
No urge to laugh, but I forced a chuckle and rose. The dog glanced back at me a few times, then bolted ahead madly. Swallowing curses, I nodded to the guards and followed.
The dog was too fast. Superhuman or not, a human body couldn't keep up. At full sprint, I might match its casual pace. When we reached a deserted area, I remembered—regrettably, never forgotten—that I had under 20 minutes left and called out loudly for it to slow down.
"Senior!"
The dog shot me a look like it was cursing me out, then slipped into some alley.
Panting, I turned into the alley. Darkness made it hard to make out shapes. The problem was it split into two paths…
No need to worry.
Boom—
The dog had finally shifted to human form and grabbed my collar.
Richthofen, who'd dragged me into the left alley, wore a chillingly cold expression. His face was full panic, and I could almost hear his heartbeat from here. He listened for sounds around us briefly, cast a soundproof spell, and spoke rapidly.
"Junior, you already know, right?"