Chapter 176: ■■■-Rank—『■■■』(2)
Chapter 176: ■■■-Rank—『■■■』(2)
‘I’ve given up being human.’
What exactly did those words mean? The Librarian had already discarded his physical body long ago.
Was it related to how he managed to break free from this frozen time?
I couldn't tell a thing, so I simply waited for his reaction.
The Librarian stood silently, shielding me from the Curator.
Honestly, ever since I got here, it’s been one shock after another.
From being called his child, to the chip in the Librarian’s head, and now this.
Is being surprised as habitual as losing?
Haha.
I laughed internally, and just as a bitter smile was about to form on my lips—
"Cough."
Instead of a laugh, a faint mist of blood sprayed from my mouth.
A clot of blood had blocked my throat, triggering a cough that sent the spray flying.
Perhaps that was the signal.
The Librarian turned his head sharply to glance at me.
After observing me for a moment, he turned back to the Curator and spoke.
"Yes, Curator. You are right. I have abandoned my own proof of existence—the notion that I am human. I am a machine."
The voice flowing from the Librarian’s mouth was laced with harsh mechanical sounds and static.
Before, it had felt like a human voice mixed with mechanical tones, but now it had crossed a line; the machine had taken over almost entirely.
Just like the Curator over there.
"Is that so? There was a slight margin of error, but in the end, the goal has been reached. Well, how does it feel? I want to hear your thoughts on choosing to discard disordered electrical chaos to become a flickering, finite electrical set."
As if delighted by the Librarian’s transformation, the Curator shed the thick hostility he had shown moments ago and spoke with a smile.
Even so, with his skin torn away, one eye crushed, and his body broken in various places to reveal his internal workings, he didn't look peaceful in the slightest.
…Then again, I’m not exactly in a position to judge.
Aren't I in a similar state?
My entire body is covered in wounds from the mana explosion that occurred inside me, my skin is stained purple from internal bleeding, and something viscous is still leaking from my eyes.
Regardless of my situation, I, the supporting character, endured the pain and watched the protagonists of this story.
"My thoughts? It’s not as bad as I expected."
The protagonist finally spoke. It was completely different from what I had imagined.
The content was shocking, but honestly, I didn't even have the energy to be surprised anymore. How many damn plot twists has it been? How many incidents have I been kept in the dark about?
The main topic seemed to be the Librarian’s humanity, but frankly, all I could think about was how much I wanted to die from the pain.
I'm sure more words are coming.
"All the stray thoughts that used to plague my mind have vanished, and my thought circuits now present only clear answers. Even the simplicity of a machine I feared… isn't that noticeable, thanks to the randomness that blooms during the calculation process."
Sure, sure. I don't even know what you're talking about anymore.
"Indeed. Machines are truly that magnificent. Now, you must understand why I seek to change the world in such a way."
The Curator spoke happily, as if seeking agreement. In response—
"No. I still do not understand, Curator."
The Librarian took a stance.
With only his hands stained black, he maintained his Silver Armor.
"Even if I have become a machine, it was for the sake of a friend. If not for that, I would have remained human."
The stance the Librarian took was that of a Martial Artist.
He wasn't reckless like in the previous fight, nor was he swayed by emotion.
With both feet planted firmly on the ground, maintaining his strength—it was a picture of stability.
"I do not understand. To have become a complete machine means the sealed Black Box I hid in the chip has opened. You should have naturally seen its contents."
So, everything up to this point was part of the plan, and the Librarian was supposed to see something hidden once he fully mechanized?
Was there really a need for all that?
I have no idea.
"In the rare event—the extremely rare event—there is a possibility that the Black Box failed to open due to some error. In that case, sudo…"
The contents of that Black Box seemed truly important to the Curator.
He began to speak with incredible speed, but he couldn't finish his sentence.
"No. I saw everything inside the Black Box. The moment I gave up being human… I saw it all."
"Then such a result is even more impossible. You are lying."
"No. I have told no lies. SSS-Rank Hero, 『The Heaven-Defying One』."
"…."
What the hell is an SSS-Rank Hero now…? There’s no such classification.
"What even is an SSS-Rank Hero… I’m seriously gonna die."
Perhaps because incomprehensible situations kept piling up, my complaints slipped out naturally.
"Please endure a little longer. Well, it’s a simpler story than you might think."
If it’s simple, then explain it to me…
Did my prayer reach him?
"The being before your eyes was once a Hero like us. It’s just that he was from a different world."
The Librarian provided a kind explanation while maintaining his combat stance.
"What do you mean, another world…? Is he from the Otherworld?"
Then he’s just a bastard…
Even Quilp was a great leader who undertook an exodus by his race's standards.
"No, according to the Black Box, it’s a matter of parallel worlds. And that being before us… was a Hero in a world similar to, yet different from, ours."
Ah, so we have parallel worlds now too? But why the hell did a guy like that come to our world to throw a tantrum?
"…That story is slightly factually incorrect, Librarian."
"Which part, Joel?"
Who the hell is Joel now?
"The part about 'us' is wrong. You must already know that I am the Librarian of another world. In other words, I am you."
Why is this story getting so complicated?
I fought against a great evil trying to destroy the world, only to find out that evil was another version of myself from a different world?
Even a cheap B-movie would have a more decent backstory than this.
"Yes, you and I certainly started from the same root. However, even if the beginning is the same, if the paths we walked are different, can we truly be called the same being?"
"The past I have walked, the calculated records, the accumulated regressions—they all prove it. I am you."
And what’s this about regression?
How many tropes is this guy going to mix together?
"No, you didn't do anything like regression. You simply borrowed the power of The Enemy to invade a neighboring world where the time axis was skewed."
Did the Librarian’s words strike a nerve?
"Withdraw that."
For the first time, anger seeped into the Curator’s voice.
"Withdraw what?"
"The word… invasion."
Was that his sore spot?
He began to pour out words.
Harsh, unrefined words.
"Everything is for the sake of the great cause. Again, and again, and again. Every time we repeat, we become a little… stronger. We see a little further into the future. Until the day our hands can finally reach The Enemy’s body. You… have seen the past of me, of you, of all of us, so you should know."
Click. Clack.
Every time he spat out a word, the sound of grinding gears and bizarre mechanical noises echoed.
As if expressing his entire being.
"Even if it meant making a deal with The Enemy for that purpose?"
"I am merely using them. The power I received from them was nothing more than a small catalyst. The current me has excluded all Otherworldly Power and stands here with the technology of humanity."
Gradually, emotion began to fill his face.
It contorted and twisted.
Transparent liquid leaked from his eyes, and the skin that had melted and stuck to his face vividly expressed the Curator’s emotions, as if that were its sole purpose.
"Even though that power turns others into energy and twists the laws of nature—a terrible power that should never have been given to a human?"
"The worst power… was the best option. Humanity must survive. By any means necessary."
Click.
Clack.
Now his speech was filled with mechanical sounds.
Every syllable. Every breath. Everything was filled with a clicking resonance.
"Fine, let’s say that’s true. Then, did the others agree to it? To being sacrificed so you could start over in a similar, different world?"
"They… were foolish. That is why."
It was an ironic scene.
Despite having similar faces, I had never felt they looked alike, but for the first time, I felt their faces were similar.
The Librarian, speaking with a human voice, had a face filled with coldness and indifference.
The Curator, spitting out mechanical sorrow, had a face filled with emotion.
Because they had both abandoned their own claims, the two, who finally looked alike, spoke.
"You turned people—"
"I turned them—"
"—into machines."
"—into machines."
Even their words began to overlap.
"To strip away the will of others and force them to agree with your actions. That is the method you chose. A deal with The Enemy? Fine. Technology that uses people as sacrifices? Fine. But… you crossed the line."
Vroooooom.
The flames in the Librarian’s boosters, which had died down once, began to roar again.
"They simply failed to realize what was best for the great cause. Therefore, we had no choice but to make the decision for them. Because the thousands, the tens of thousands of Joels within me… agreed to it. That is how 'we' became 'I'."
As if synchronizing with the rising sound of the boosters, the Curator spoke while taking a stance.
No, could that even be called a stance?
That horrific form, with arms dangling and all tentacles extended, connecting to the ground and multiplying.
"This world is the same. Since it hasn't reached The End yet… it is a world in need of harvesting. Librarian. The power you awakened was quite interesting, as it is something I do not possess. However…"
The Curator, as if releasing all limiters, began to explosively sprout mechanical tentacles from everywhere except his upper body.
"That power, too, exists within the entropic conclusion leading to The End. There is no way for you to surpass me. It is the first time a version of me from another world has disagreed, but it is not unexpected. I shall absorb you by force."
The multiplication of mechanical tentacles erupting from the Curator’s body was so explosive that they surged toward us like a tidal wave.
Ping.
But as they reached the vicinity of the Librarian, who stood calmly in his stance, they turned into particles of light with a clear sound.
As if touching holy ground they were forbidden to enter.
"If that horrific way of thinking is what you call my past—Joel’s thoughts…"
Vroooooom.
In the middle of The Sea of horrific machinery.
From the safe haven created by the Librarian, where the sound of boosters echoed, the Librarian spoke.
"I am not Joel."
The armor that had been stained black began to invert.
White.
No, the color of pure metal.
As if the paint were being stripped away, the Librarian’s armor returned to the color of pure metal.
"I am the machine that abandoned Joel, and—"
Thump.
The Librarian fired his boosters and lunged forward a short distance.
He stepped off with his left foot and threw his body forward.
"—the Hero of this world."
He extended his right hand.
It was a posture far too simple for him to use.
A straight punch.
A focused strike.
A punch.
A hit.
In countless martial arts, the names differ, but they all share this one form.
Taking a stance, shifting the center of gravity.
And thrusting the hand forward.
In short, a simple punch.
That simple punch, accelerated by the boosters, struck The Sea of tentacles.
At that moment, the Librarian spat out his final words.
"I am the Librarian."
Ping.
Click.
Two sounds rang out.
And then, light was born.
Countless rays of silver light.
The battle that had felt like it would last forever—
Ended just like that.