Chapter 268: Home Sweet Home (2)
Chapter 268: Home Sweet Home (2)
“Alright, so that’s what went down in the Otherworld.”
I kept my mouth moving until I’d spilled every last detail of my memories.
If what I told the Librarian earlier was a brief summary lasting ten to twenty minutes, this was a full-blown account spanning several hours, including every minute detail.
Even I was impressed by how I managed to weave the parts about Al’shel and the Demon Train together with a bit of fabrication.
I shared a lot, but just as The Queen had warned, I couldn't divulge everything; it felt as if my words were being cut off at intervals.
Most of it was related to 'The End,' but strangely, there were bits of seemingly harmless info I couldn't voice either.
The prime example was the method of becoming a Magical Girl without going through The Queen, which I’d learned from Zess. I didn't know the specifics, but it was that thing about sublimating the soul into magic.
But I didn't get that information from The Queen.
Did that woman, out of sheer laziness, just set a filter for 'this and that' kind of information instead of specific details?
Thinking deeply about it was pointless, so I moved on.
Aside from that, there were other minor details that were filtered out for reasons I couldn't fathom.
Things like the Terminal Plague.
Or The Queen’s appearance.
On the other hand, things I thought would be filtered—like the reason the Magic Kingdom dispatches Mascots—weren't.
However, the part about it being due to the blood of their ancestors was filtered, so it came out naturally as them being 'entities with a high probability of causing problems in the future.' The meaning was basically the same, so it didn't really matter.
Anyway, excluding the information I couldn't say regardless of my will and the information I shouldn't say, I spilled everything down to the last detail, including what dishes were served during dinner with The Queen.
Of course, thanks to my terrible memory, some parts were a bit blurred.
It’s honestly pathetic that the one thing I remember with perfect clarity is the dinner with The Queen.
“Hmm. This continues to be fascinating. By the way, what is this ‘Fruit-Meat’?”
In the middle of my explanation, the traitor spoke up.
It was the one standing by the bed, laptop perched on her knees, tapping away at the keyboard.
I don't know why she lives like that when her body is a machine. She should just connect a cable and transfer the data.
“I told you earlier.”
It’s meat with a fruity flavor.
“The explanation was lacking then, so I wanted to ask, but the timing wasn't right to interrupt.”
“Ah… well… I’ll give you a sample later, so just eat it then.”
If you’re that curious, I’ll pull some out of the Food Ingredient Generator for you.
“Hmm, let’s do that then. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
“You think there is?”
I’ve been tied up on this bed blabbering for nearly five hours.
If there’s anything I haven't said by now, it’s just a problem with my memory. Maybe I’ll think, ‘Oh, I forgot that,’ later on, but not right now.
“Hmm, I see. Then I shall organize this and submit it as a report. It will cause quite a stir in the academic world. The first report of an exploration into another Otherworld in human history.”
“Isn't it not the first? There are those who were transferred elsewhere and came back, or the stories from the other races who surrendered.”
There must be plenty of those small bits of data piled up.
“Yes, of course, there is quite a bit of such data. However, since those records are descriptions of the worlds they originally lived in, they focus on lifestyles and differences. But your perspective is different, isn't it, Lee Ha-ram? You’ve experienced much and know a lot, and you can clearly describe the combat power and risk factors from a definitive Earthling’s perspective. This is quite significant.”
Is it?
To be honest, it just feels like a very lazily written Otherworld diary.
Well, if a researcher says it’s important, I guess it is.
“Then, how about letting me go?”
Quickly, before Oxymoron comes back.
The only reason I hadn't fallen victim to Oxymoron’s human experimentation yet was that the Librarian insisted on finishing the report before I fell asleep and lost my memories.
Even so, she’d left me restrained to the bed.
By the way, why won't these belts break?
They were always damn hard to break, but in the past, they’d snap if I released a certain amount of strength. Now, they don't even show a sign of budging.
If I used any more strength, the surroundings would be destroyed, so unless I intended to cause a disaster, this was a restraint I couldn't escape.
Still, since they were in the form of belts, I could be freed if the Librarian just laid a hand on the buckles.
“Um, I apologize. I don't want to be hated by Oxymoron.”
“Since when were you two so close?”
Not that I’m one to talk, but Oxymoron’s social life is on the verge of a total catastrophe, isn't it? I’ve never seen her talk to anyone properly besides us.
“Ah, it was Oxymoron who bought me these clothes. She saw me walking around in a lab coat, was horrified, and dragged me away. We already have an appointment for her to buy me more next time.”
Seriously, why is she so obsessed with other people’s outfits?
She was like that with me, too.
She should fix her own wetsuit-looking clothes first… actually, scratch that. She has no choice if she wants to hide her scars.
Wait, has the Librarian become her dress-up doll too?
Hmm. But since she doesn't seem to realize she’s being subjected to something bad, I won't tell her.
I don't want to be hated by Oxymoron either.
More importantly.
“Hey, you said you’d let me go if I talked.”
Do you think I spent all this time blabbering about things outside my expertise in this horrible place that reeks of blood for nothing?
“Hmm, when did I say that?”
In the midst of this, our female Librarian tilted her head in a feminine gesture, as if she had no idea what I was talking about.
I didn't care if she was already starting to act more human; what mattered right now was the promise. The promise.
“You promised when I started talking, you brat. Ask that memory you’re so proud of.”
It’s a memory that only seems to fail when it’s convenient for her, but she should at least have a conscience.
As I raged and protested from the bed:
“Ah, are you perhaps referring to this?”
The Librarian finally spoke as if she understood.
And then.
—Hey, do something about Oxymoron. You bought some time with the report!
My own voice flowed out of the Librarian’s mouth.
What the hell.
Startled, I stared at her with my mouth agape for a moment.
But soon, a memory surfaced from a corner of my mind, and I understood what she was doing.
The deal we made before starting the report.
She was reproducing it.
—Hmm, I do not have that authority. If you look closely at the Management Bureau rules, the comprehensive checkup after an Otherworld exploration that Oxymoron mentioned is actually in there.
As if to confirm my guess, the Librarian’s own voice followed.
I clearly remember what was said then.
—I don't want to be the first victim of that glorious rule, dammit.
Yes, that was it.
The damn rule that had never been used since it was written.
There might have been experiments I didn't know about, but seeing as the Librarian called this the first record earlier, it was likely the first even among the dark underbelly of the Management Bureau that the Librarian was aware of.
—Well, it is essentially a dead rule, but regardless, writing the report is mandatory. So just give up and spill everything.
—Is there no option where you just let me go and I spill it quietly in a detention room?
Then, the promise should come after this.
The words I said when I gave up and decided to cooperate with the Librarian.
—Hmm, do you really hate getting a comprehensive checkup that much?
—Of course! If it were you, would you want to undergo human experimentation that calls itself a 'comprehensive checkup' but involves saws and presses?
Right, Oxymoron’s 'comprehensive checkup.'
Since some Awakened ignore MRIs, CTs, and X-rays, and don't react to contrast agents, she decided she’d check by personally tearing and ripping things open.
She claimed her eyes and hands were more accurate than that unnecessarily expensive equipment.
She’d actually discovered and cured the illnesses of numerous Awakened with that method, so she wasn't exactly wrong.
However, there was one major problem.
Since Oxymoron wasn't a completely insane scientist like the ones in fiction, she obviously wouldn't do that while the patient was awake; she’d pump them full of an anesthetic made with her superpowers and then check. That part wasn't a big deal.
People like the Lord of Infinite Castles, who usually have no idea what’s happening to them, even praised it, saying their joints stopped aching after a session.
Even those who knew what happened sometimes accepted it, saying the 'after' was worth the 'before.'
However, that was only because they hadn't encountered the real problem.
The fact that Oxymoron was also of the 'STEM' breed and that she was truly sincere about biological research.
Thanks to that, if she got too focused and interested in her exploration, she would enter 'Seeker Mode' and start slicing flesh long after the expected duration of the anesthetic had passed.
And if you wake up in the middle of that…
‘Oh, you’ve woken up. I’m sorry. I’m not finished yet.’
With that bright voice.
And a thick scent of blood, the likes of which you rarely encounter even on a battlefield.
As a natural reflex immediately after waking, you lift your head.
Then, you are faced with your own parts, disassembled here and there.
In my experience alone:
My arm had been sliced open vertically and peeled back, allowing me to see my blood-stained hand bones, twitching vessels, and muscles.
My stomach had been wide open, with my intestines wriggling actively.
At worst, even my internal organs had been removed, and I could see them moving like sea worms on a silver steel plate beyond my empty abdomen.
No, thinking back, even that was on the better side.
What the hell was the situation when I opened my eyes and found I had no eyes?
What kind of state was I in back then?
Gaaah, my trauma!
So, to summarize.
It was called a 'comprehensive checkup' for PR reasons.
In reality, it was a mad ritual of using a surgery room where the subject absolutely cannot die to disassemble the entire body, check for issues, fix the problematic parts, and then reassemble them.
—Hmm. Since I am mostly mechanical, I don't really know. I just watched her rip into the parts that were still biological, and it didn't take very long.
I really hope you die.
Even hearing it again, the same thought came to mind.
Anyway, what comes next is the important part.
—If you hate it that much, let’s make a deal.
—What deal?
—If you cooperate quietly with the report, I will… consider… letting you go without Oxymoron knowing.
Yes, that’s it.
She said she’d let me go…
Wait, 'consider'?
There was no such bizarre phrasing in my memory!
Then, there was only one possibility.
“Hey, you lunatic! Where do you think you’re going, forging records?!”
No matter how desperate I was at the time, did she think I’d fall for such wordplay?
“Hmm? I’m not sure what you mean. I am simply playing back exactly what was recorded 6 hours, 41 minutes, and 28 seconds ago.”
“Management Bureau people, look at this Research Institute Director! She’s forging data!”
She’s a major research record forger, people of The Society!
Hurry up and blacklist her from The Society!
“Haha, I don't know what you’re talking about. I played the recording, and this is now primary evidence. Do you happen to have a separate recording of your own?”
“Of course not!”
Why would I carry a recorder!
I even left my phone at home because I was going to the Otherworld!
“Hmm, then the contract to 'consider' it must be the correct one. And after considering it while writing the report, I have decided that it is right not to release you.”
“Hey, wait, hey!”
I tried desperately to call back the Librarian as she quietly rose from her chair.
“Well, accidents don't happen every time, and don't you feel refreshed afterward? There’s a rule for it, so please just give up.”
The Librarian spoke with cold logic as she moved away from the bed.
And as if she had been waiting:
“That took quite a while, didn't it? Well, no matter.”
Oxymoron appeared from somewhere and walked slowly toward me.
“Hi, Oxymoron. Uh, so, lately the Librar—”
Since the lifeline known as the Librarian had already snapped, I tried to persuade Oxymoron immediately.
“Yes, yes. We’ll have plenty of time to talk after we’re done. I’ll listen then.”
Simultaneous with Oxymoron’s words, I felt a sting in my forearm.
And just like that, my consciousness cut out.