Chapter 103: Operating Room (1)
Chapter 103: Operating Room (1)
I moved quickly through the quiet city, now devoid of people.
Oxymoron, who had seemed drained of energy earlier, was now actively moving her legs and pushing forward. I kept pace with her, my footsteps falling in a quiet rhythm.
Neither of us said a word, but the silence wasn't awkward. It was a valuable silence, a time to chew over the events that had just transpired.
"Whew."
Oxymoron took a deep breath, bringing the long silence to an end.
"Feeling any better?"
I asked the question I had been quietly holding onto.
"Yes. Thanks to you, the weight on my chest has lightened considerably."
I see.
"Glad you came, then?"
"Yes."
"It was worth taking a day to come back, wasn't it?"
"It really was."
Everything that happened was a coincidence. My coming here, our stopping at that lodging.
And yet, there, Oxymoron had unburdened herself of a heavy load. After decades of time. All thanks to the gratitude of the very person she had saved.
"Well, I guess it's time to work hard, then? That Old Man said as much."
If Oxymoron had found her motivation again, whatever the reason, it was good for me.
If the quality of the reports went up, wouldn't my pay increase as well?
"That’s one thing, but work is work. I’m strictly an assistant, and this request was made to you, Mister."
I guess the world doesn't work that easily after all.
Still, if my colleague's mood had improved, that was enough.
We continued our conversation as we walked.
Into the former Czechoslovakia.
We set foot upon the land painted in white.
* * *
A place painted entirely white by Oxymoron’s S-Rank Technique, the Operating Room.
The buildings, the roads, the earth—everything that had once been covered in gray ash was now white. It was a bizarre land, so surreal it felt like it would drive one mad.
Even the sky, obscured by a translucent white sphere that looked like a Protective Barrier, appeared a very pale blue, adding to the eeriness of the place...
However, returning to the Operating Room after a long time, it wasn't as much of a mess as it used to be.
Perhaps concerned for the mental health of the dispatched personnel, living things that were not affected by the Operating Room had been introduced.
Specifically, plants, wild animals, and insects had been scattered about to add color to the white canvas.
Green vines climbed the walls, and lush grass was planted along the roadsides. Yellow butterflies fluttered before my eyes, and a cat, completely unafraid of humans, brushed past my leg.
I had heard roughly what the situation was from Oxymoron, who visited here often, but the vibrancy was beyond my imagination.
"There are patients scattered all over the place; is this really okay? I hope the cats don't spread fleas or anything."
Even if the people sleeping inside don't die or age, they are still treated as living beings, so they could still catch diseases.
"Ah. I've given the nurses orders to handle things like that. They're smarter than me, so they'll probably do a good job."
Nurses.
No sooner had she said the word than an entirely white entity passed before my eyes.
Between the houses. It squeezed through a gap that even I, with my small stature, would have found difficult, its body mashing and molding without any discomfort.
A nurse.
A Summoned Guardian of Oxymoron that could only survive within the Operating Room.
They couldn't speak, but they acted according to orders and expressed their intentions through their physical forms—amorphous white somethings.
One of them happened to see the two of us and bowed its head slightly in greeting.
A natural bow from the waist. And within it, I could sense emotion.
The joy of being grateful for our visit and a sense of blind loyalty.
"Go back to work."
Oxymoron’s command.
Upon hearing the order, the nurse nodded vigorously, and I could hear the sound of the liquid on its surface sloshing.
Then, the nurse squeezed itself back into the gap between the houses and vanished.
Hmm. Something's strange.
Were they always this expressive with their emotions?
"Was their movement always that natural?"
"That one is on the better side. The ones like the Head Nurse can even write."
Well, that's terrifying.
"Do they gain intelligence if they live long enough...? They're like actual living creatures."
"They probably are living creatures. When Calavera came by before, he was freaked out, asking why they had souls."
...That's actually scary.
They manifest on their own and evolve?
If so, that means Oxymoron has created a new form of life.
Even if they are False Existences that can only live within the Operating Room. If they have souls, intelligence, and emotions...
Souls.
I didn't believe in them in the past, but after experiencing various incidents, I've come to realize that something similar exists.
Whether it's a true soul or a residue containing a portion of a person's information, there is clearly something that constitutes a living being's ego.
Until now, I only knew one person who could make that possible.
Linshua. My daughter.
But today, one more was added to the list.
Oxymoron.
As my thoughts reached that point, a conversation I once had with the Librarian came to mind.
* * *
"Who do you think is the most talented among the Awakened?"
"Let's just say it's you."
He was going to say something weird and claim it was himself anyway.
"Regrettably, it is not me."
"Then who? The Lord of Infinite Castles?"
"Personally, I believe it is Oxymoron."
Oxymoron? Her?
"That girl whose combat ability is lacking and whose power isn't even that special?"
"Combat is not the only form of talent."
Librarian casually brushed off my rebuttal and continued.
"Think about it. The existence known as Oxymoron is, in fact, incredibly anomalous."
"I've heard that I'm 'anomalous' more times than I can count."
People always wondered how someone with no abilities could climb this high.
"That is true, but in your case, there were various factors. Effort, fated encounters, and the countless holes you swallowed to reach that point. There was also the Underground."
"The Underground can go to hell. Dammit, do you have to bring that up while I'm eating? Really?"
My appetite just took a nosedive.
"My apologies. My food intake has decreased lately, so I haven't been as mindful of that. Now, where was I..."
After a meaningless apology, he continued.
"Right. Let us continue. She had none of those things. Without any training, any connections, or any knowledge, she ascended to that high realm. She even manifested an S-Rank Technique, the Operating Room."
When put that way, it was a fair point...
"But her story was trash in exchange. Ah, you're not on the Asia side, so maybe you haven't seen the reports?"
"Of course I have seen them. And seeing them confirmed my thoughts. It is far too anomalous. It is as if she was presented with an impossible challenge from the very beginning."
"..."
His story continued.
"Every story is designed to be able to reach an end somehow. As long as the Hero does not give up halfway. As seen in the example of Cyber Emperor Colossus, even if it meant killing four out of five people."
What is wrong with him today?
Colossus. Thanks to that, the iron plate in front of me feels like it's going to come to life and start dancing. Should I just give up on dinner and throw a punch?
"However, Oxymoron’s story was the exception. A story that was impossible from the start. A story that demanded someone's sacrifice from the beginning."
"What are you trying to say? If it's just some weird delusion, can I go now?"
I couldn't stomach the food anymore anyway.
"You are still as impatient as ever. Could it be that someone... with malice... was trying to kill her? To kill that talent?"
Being stuck in the lab every day must have finally made him lose his mind.
I stood up from my seat, patted his shoulder, and spoke.
"Stop playing games, take a break from research, and get some fresh air. I'm leaving."
"Wait? Excuse me?"
* * *
I laughed it off at the time, but could his words actually be true?
The existence at The End of the Story. The entity I saw with my own eyes, 'The Modifier.' My conviction regarding the existence that governs stories brought back a joke that had been buried deep within my memories.
"What are you thinking about?"
"..."
I, too, had not yet escaped the realm of delusion. I lacked information.
I could consult Oxymoron about this, but the problem was the source of the information.
It was information entangled with The Society.
Of course, Oxymoron is the type to keep her mouth shut even when I act as Black Marauder, so there was a high probability she would stay silent if I told her...
But I couldn't ignore the possibility of touching a hidden nerve and turning her hostile, like the accident that happened with the Thunder God.
In that case, I should change the subject.
"I was just thinking about the design of the nurses for a moment."
"What's wrong with the nurse design?"
Her reaction was flat, as if she didn't understand what I was getting at.
"I'm sure they used to be just plain, featureless humanoids."
No hair, looking like mannequins, and usually in the form of some slime-like substance because they had trouble maintaining that shape.
"They were."
"So why has the design changed so that they're all female?"
As I spoke those words, a related memory surfaced.
What happened when we were buying clothes. The fact that Oxymoron was strangely obsessed with me.
The nurse that passed by earlier was also wearing a coat similar to mine.
The hairstyle was different, and the coat had different details, but the overall design was clearly similar.
"Hmm. Because that looks better?"
That's a lie.
"No, no matter how I look at it, they look exactly like m—"
"Exactly like you, Mister?"
I slipped up.
Because my blood pressure spiked for a moment, I couldn't lead the conversation skillfully.
This was practically self-destruction.
"I don't know what you're talking about, but I didn't order them to look like that. They took that form themselves."
Hmm?
"I mean, they chose that appearance on their own. It's not like I gave them an order like that."
It couldn't possibly be a coincidence... Was it some kind of subconscious influence from Oxymoron?
"Resembling... Mister. Hmm..."
But Oxymoron started talking to herself as if my words had sparked a thought.
And after a brief moment.
"I should check...? Assemble!"
She muttered in a quiet voice and then suddenly shouted. Her loud voice shook the quiet white space.
Slosh. Slosh. Slosh.
The sound of water could be heard from all around.
At the same time, all the structures around us began to bubble and boil.
Pop.
With the sound of bubbles bursting, about a dozen nurses revealed themselves.
Crawling out from the walls of houses.
Surging up from the ground.
Falling upside down from the tops of streetlights.
The white humanoid somethings huddled around us.
Normally, countless entities would gather, but seeing only a dozen or so, it seemed only the ones in the immediate vicinity had assembled.
The nurses who appeared tilted their heads as if asking why they had been called.
The sight of humanoid objects with monotonous exteriors like ball-jointed dolls, their faces composed only of shadows, all tilting their heads in unison was a bit creepy. However, their movements were so human-like that the fear was diluted.
"Line up next to him. I want to compare your appearances."
As soon as those words left her mouth, the nurses began to move toward me.
"Can't we just go instead of doing this?"
"You're the one who brought it up, Mister."
She said that with a bright smile.
They say you can't spit on a smiling face. My will to resist vanished.
Fine, it's all my fault. What kind of glory was I hoping for when I brought that up?
The nurses surrounded me as I stood there, dejected and full of regret.
Perhaps for the sake of medical procedures, they were a head or two taller than me.
At a glance, they all looked similar, but looking closely, the positions where medical tools were inserted, the placement of white accessories, and the hairstyles were all subtly different.
And gathering them like this made one thing crystal clear.
"Hmm... definitely, seeing them all together like this..."
She tilted her head.
"It seems like the clothes and the basic design motif are based on you, Mister. I wonder why."
And following Oxymoron’s lead, the nurses surrounding me also tilted their heads.
How should I know? If you don't know, Oxymoron, how would I?
My guess was the subconscious influence I thought of earlier, and the hypothesis that the nurses were affected by it.
But I kept my mouth shut, fearing that bringing it up would only make things more complicated.
"Oh? That one's clothes are a bit different."
Which one? They were all coats...
A nurse wearing a flowing Gothic dress.
Since detailed patterns like frills couldn't be generated with fluid bodies, they seemed to have been replaced with bracelets or ribbons—a vague design.
Wait, is that the Black Marauder outfit?
"...Let's just get to the branch quickly."
"That sounds like a good idea."
Did she sense the despair and death wish in my voice?
Oxymoron also wiped the smile from her face and nodded with a firm expression.
Truly. Life is hard.