Chapter 167: Frozen Gear (2)
Chapter 167: Frozen Gear (2)
Vrooooom.
The hot air blasting from Librarian’s booster exhaust wrapped around me.
Normally, a warm breeze would make a person feel better, not worse. But right now, I was in a foul mood.
My clothes were damp, and the pungent scent of brine stung my nose. The drying seawater left behind a gritty, crusty layer of salt. The air reeked of iron and oil from the smoke.
The only saving grace was that the exhaust wasn't spewing thick, black soot.
In these miserable conditions, I sat perched on Librarian’s shoulder, glaring irritably at the exhaust pipe extending right next to me.
“Can’t you just evaporate the moisture yourself?”
The dampness was annoying, the salt was annoying, having to hitch a ride like this was annoying—everything was just plain annoying.
At my grumbling, Librarian let out a calm chuckle.
“You know how it is. My Reality Manipulation doesn't work on living beings.”
Right, that "living being" condition.
“My clothes aren't alive. Can’t you just target the fabric and blast the water away?”
And the salt while you’re at it.
Thinking about it, I really wanted that salt gone. There’s only so much scratching a person can do under their clothes.
As I scratched myself like a man possessed, Librarian spoke in a voice tinged with exasperation.
“…Do you still not understand the exact nature of my ability?”
“Nope.”
I replied flatly, indifferent to whether my friend felt exasperated or not.
“Sigh. I submitted a report with all the detailed conditions because you said it was necessary for establishing operational plans….”
I remember receiving a stack of papers like that.
Heavenly Sword and I used them to roast potatoes.
Well, better not mention that. At least Lord of Infinite Castles or Macbeth seemed to understand it, so it shouldn't matter.
“Since we don’t know what might happen, I should probably explain it on the way. It’ll be the condensed version for the sake of time, but is that alright?”
It’s more than alright. I don’t understand 90% of what you say anyway, so shorter is better.
“Sure. Just don’t mix in any of those weird technical terms.”
I still have no idea what things like "manifestation of subconscious resistance" or "general theory of ideas" are supposed to mean.
“Well then… before I begin the explanation….”
Librarian raised a finger with an exaggerated gesture, acting like he was some kind of teacher.
Don’t do that. You’re going to drop me again.
“Roughly how much do you know?”
“About your power?”
“Yes.”
Let’s see….
“Reality Manipulation type. You can manipulate the position of non-living objects or transform them. Depending on the output, you can even create things by replicating surrounding matter. The price of use is….”
Gulp.
My mouth felt dry, and I swallowed hard.
“…Re-experiencing the past. Accelerated erosion.”
Specifically, it forces him to relive his most painful experiences. As if they were reality.
When used briefly, it’s just embarrassing memories from a few days ago. But he once told me that if he used it at maximum output—like during the last war—he’d find himself standing back in Boston.
“You know the gist of it, then. I was worried you didn't know anything at all.”
I had brought it up cautiously, worried about poking at his trauma, but Librarian didn't seem to mind. He let out a light laugh and wagged his finger.
“Now, let me give you the details. First, saying ‘only non-living things are targets’ is a bit inaccurate. To be precise, living beings above a certain size that possess intelligence cannot be targeted.”
Isn't that basically the same thing?
“What’s the difference?”
“Well, it means I can manipulate things like insects, microbes, bacteria, and viruses without a second thought. If I had to account for those, I would only be able to use my power in extremely limited locations. There are trillions of living organisms around us right at this moment, after all.”
I see.
It was a topic I’d never cared enough about to think deeply on, but hearing it explained like this was actually quite interesting.
“To be more specific, my power is less like Reality Manipulation and more like a small-scale Otherworld Erosion. That’s why it’s difficult to exert influence when the will of another is present nearby.”
Wow, that actually makes sense. Why can’t he always explain things like this?
Anyway, I basically got it.
“So, you mean this? Since the clothes I’m wearing are within the range of my will, it’s hard to apply Reality Manipulation to them.”
“Yes. It’s slightly different, but that’s the easiest way to put it. Moving on….”
Then the solution was simple.
Ignoring Librarian as he tried to continue, I twisted my body this way and that, trying to get away from the stinging salt. I raised my arms and struggled until, finally, my outer layer of clothing came off.
“…And the time it takes to regain my senses when I return to reality after the past-regression penalty ends…. What are you doing?”
What does it look like?
Stripped down to nothing but my basic white tights, I tied my clothes to my hammer and thrust it in front of Librarian’s eyes.
“There, I took them off. Now dry these.”
“…Regardless of how you feel on the inside, considering you visually possess the body of a woman, I don't think you should be stripping down just anywhere.”
Always the straight-laced one.
“Hey, I have common sense too. I wouldn't just strip anywhere. Just dry these already.”
I kept waving The Hammer in front of Librarian’s face, a silent protest demanding he hurry up.
“…This follows what I was explaining earlier. You heard that my power works on a principle similar to Otherworld Erosion, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And a Magical Girl’s clothes are also made of mana—matter composed of Otherworldly Power. In other words, they are targets that are difficult for my power to affect.”
Man, it really feels like the universe is conspiring to keep my clothes wet. Why are all these conditions so stingy only when it comes to me?
Feeling a wave of self-pity, I stared up at the deep blue Arctic sky. The cold wind brushed pleasantly against my salt-crusted skin, and the scent of the quiet sea calmed my mind. As my mood improved, a brilliant idea struck me.
“Then what about the seawater and salt on the clothes? Those don't matter. Just blast those away.”
Even I thought it was a perfect argument. You just have to think outside the box. If you can’t affect the clothes, just destroy the stuff stuck to them.
“…I told you just now. It’s difficult within the range of one’s will. The same goes for a Magical Girl’s clothes. They contain some unknown will that repels my power. It doesn't seem to be alive, though.”
Librarian finally let his high energy drop, speaking quietly as if he found it difficult to explain further.
I felt a bit disappointed and considered pestering him more, but I decided against it. It wasn't like Librarian was doing this on purpose, and he’d explained the reason simply enough for even me to understand.
Besides, the wind felt good.
To enjoy the cold Arctic breeze, I stood up straight and held The Hammer with my clothes draped over it like a flag.
I wanted to feel the wind while my clothes dried.
The island was drawing near.
The island that might be Librarian’s end.
* * *
“We’ve arrived.”
The moment Librarian spoke those words—
Clang.
I kicked off Librarian’s shoulder and leaped forward. My long sea voyage was over; it was time to stand on my own two feet.
Floating in the air for a moment, I wished for the soft touch of earth as I landed on the island.
Clang.
Along with a strange metallic ring—
“Gah.”
A bizarre sensation, as if I’d kicked something solid, traveled from my heels to my head. It was an impossible sensation for a normal situation.
What is this?
I steadied my body, which had sprawled out from the sudden impact, and slowly stomped my foot.
Clang.
The metallic sound returned. A metallic ring coming from what looked like a sandy beach.
….
To figure out this strange cognitive dissonance, I kicked my foot to scatter the sand. Or rather, I tried to.
No matter how much I shook my foot, the sand didn't move at all.
What is this?
To identify the nature of this bizarre beach, I bent my waist. I touched the sand with my hand.
It didn't move.
I crouched down and observed the beach closely. Only then could I grasp the cause of this freakish phenomenon.
What lay before me was a single, massive hunk of metal.
At a glance, it looked exactly like a sandy beach, but if you looked very closely, the "grains" were stuck together as if they had been welded. It was only because the shape and color were identical to normal sand that I had been deceived.
Don't tell me… this entire beach is one solid piece of metal?
Horrified, I stood up and looked around. It wasn't a particularly large island, so the entire beach was visible at once, but it was impossibly large to be a single block of iron.
Rumble.
Behind my bewildered self, I heard the sound of boosters.
Thud. Clang—.
Then, the sound of a massive metal entity landing on metal.
“What is this, Librarian?”
I didn't even need to check who it was before throwing the question to my friend.
“…Isn't it obvious? It’s the Mechanization Phenomenon.”
The Mechanization Phenomenon.
I looked up, gazing at the forest beyond the beach. No matter how I looked at it, the trees and grass seemed perfectly ordinary. The trees and grass even swayed gently in the wind; it was impossible to think of them as machines.
But then again, hadn't the beach been the same? Until I touched it and looked closely, I’d perceived it as just a beach.
So, I walked toward the forest to confirm its true nature.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound of my hard boot heels striking the metallic beach echoed dozens of times.
Finally reaching the edge of the forest, I leaned down and touched the grass.
It was cold.
That was the first sensation I felt from the grass. Feeling the chill, I twisted the thin blade of grass with my fingers. Instead of tearing, it began to bend.
The green grass began to twist like wire or a metal plate.
“….”
I slowly let go, but the grass remained in its twisted shape, asserting its metallic nature.
“….”
I swung a light fist at a tree.
Clang.
The sensation of hitting a telephone pole traveled up my arm.
What the hell is this?
It’s not that I didn't know about this phenomenon. I knew that Librarian’s adversary turned everything into machines.
But I hadn't expected it to be this eerie.
Everything looked the same on the surface. But the moment you touched it, you realized it was something else entirely.
The cold temperature of the metal. The hardness that seemed to reject everything.
A bizarre inconsistency that was completely different from the world I knew.
“Librarian?”
“Yes?”
I threw a question to Librarian, who had approached my side at some point.
“Can I… rip this tree open?”
I wanted to see it with my own eyes. Just how twisted this "living" plant was.
“…It won’t be a very pleasant sight.”
“…But you don't mind?”
“…No.”
At his word, I slowly moved my hand.
I punched into the metal plate that should have been tree bark, forcing a hole and tearing away a thick sheet of iron.
Crackle. Spark.
Click. Whir.
Grind. Screeeech.
The sounds of machinery reached my ears. The sound of sparks from severed wires. The eerie sound of gears grinding as the casing that muffled their noise was torn away. Metal pipes throbbed up and down, transporting some unknown liquid.
At a glance, one might think of it as a machine. But an instinctive revulsion welled up inside me.
What I felt from its composition wasn't a beautifully designed machine.
What I felt was… a machine acting like a forced imitation of life.
The wires looped in circles without leading anywhere; the gears spun uselessly in meaningless places; the metal pipes sprayed a bizarre oil, pumped from below, onto those very gears.
A stupid machine that produced no results.
And yet, they repeated those meaningless actions over and over. As if they were alive.
That grotesqueness birthed a deep loathing.
Was I being consumed by that loathing?
“Librarian. Is your… inside like this too…?”
I blurted out a question I would normally never ask. I realized it was incredibly rude and a question that should never be voiced only after the words had already left my mouth.
“No. I hated the look of that, so I fixed it myself.”
Even at such a question, my friend answered with a smile.
Though I couldn't see his expression.