Chapter 269: Accomplices
Chapter 269: Accomplices
“Hmm, there’s a bit of a problem with your heart. It’s moving, but it’s not beating properly, and it’s not even pumping blood. I honestly don’t know how you’re still alive.”
Wow, really? That’s quite a surprise.
I’ve really hit rock bottom now, haven’t I? To think my heart was completely shot and I didn’t even notice.
“There’s necrosis in various muscles, too. Did something happen there?”
“Probably a side effect of the Limiter Release?”
“Ah, that explains why your bones are covered in hairline fractures. I seriously thought you were a corpse that had been run over by a dump truck.”
Wait a second. If my body is in that state, why don’t I feel any pain?
More importantly, can’t that stuff regenerate?
Is it because it’s inside my body and I’m not conscious of it?
Thinking back to what Zess told me about how my regeneration works, it actually makes sense. The parts I don’t recognize as having a problem don’t get repaired.
Still, I’d rather not do something as insane as cutting myself open to check the inside.
I was a fool to think I wouldn’t need to do this reassembly stuff anymore just because I gained regeneration.
Well, realizing that was a fairly productive use of my time.
There was just one problem.
“Why did you wake me up to tell me that before you were even finished?”
My left arm and right leg were still being washed over there.
This meant I had to watch with my own eyes as Oxymoron tore pieces of flesh from the bone, like she was deboning meat, and tossed them one by one into plastic bags marked with biological hazard symbols.
I suppose I should be grateful she wasn't tossing my internal organs in there.
By the way, this wasn't an accident. This was clearly a situation Oxymoron had intended.
The moment I woke up, I saw Oxymoron staring intently at me, saying, “You woke up right on time.”
As if to prove it further, only my limbs—the parts that would cause the least psychological trauma—were left in that state.
“Ah, it’s because I needed time to talk.”
“It’s not like I’m in a hurry. You could have just waited until you were done.”
I’m not proud to say it, but I’m an expert at idling away time.
Back in my online game guild, people used to ask, ‘Hammer-ajusshi, are you unemployed? You’re logged in twenty-four hours a day.’
I don’t do that as much lately, what with the disciple and the reformation and all that.
Anyway, the point is, I have time to spare.
Certainly enough that she didn't need to resort to this.
“But this is the only time and place where I can be certain we won’t be eavesdropped on or traced. Even those people wouldn’t want to look into a place like this.”
Well, that was true. The Operating Room, an S-Rank Technique, was essentially her domain—a semi-permanent installation as long as the conditions were met. If anyone tried to plant a bug here, she’d catch them instantly.
Setting aside the performance of Oxymoron’s Operating Room, she casually dropped a comment while pouring a strange green liquid over my bones.
That was when I instinctively knew why she had done this. She had information she wanted to share that couldn't be allowed to leak.
It was likely the information I had requested regarding the internal traitor.
The culprit behind this great catastrophe, the one who had sold their soul and dignity to The End.
The moment I realized that, the scent and presence of the countless bits of flesh and blood flowing through this room no longer mattered to me.
What mattered was the information.
The information provided by my comrade, who was casually stripping flesh just a few feet away.
“What did you find?”
“Well, it’s nothing too grand. To be honest, there’s almost no recorded information from the first year. And even among the existing materials, there were many I couldn't access with my Grade 5 Classified Area clearance.”
Wait, you have Grade 5 clearance?
Even I, a former member of the Assassination Team, only have Grade 4.5.
Is this the difference between someone who played around outside and someone who worked inside the Management Bureau?
Though I’ve never actually used that Grade 4.5 clearance properly.
They told me to use the internal terminals of the Bureau, but I don’t even know where those are.
I don’t even remember signing a confidentiality agreement in the first place.
To be precise, it’s more like I probably signed it but don’t remember doing so.
Of course, I didn't voice these thoughts. That wasn't what was important right now.
“So you did find something.”
She wouldn't have brought this up just to complain or make jokes.
“Well, I’m not entirely sure about this myself. The things I can see are medical records, certain system components, and things related to biological disasters.”
As she spoke, she brought my arm bone to my shoulder. Her hands moved rapidly, reattaching flesh and other appendages as she whispered into my ear.
“The first thing I found strange was the survival status of the 1st Generation and whether the S-Class Confidential Protect had been applied to their brains.”
That’s a heavy topic.
“The survival rate of the 1st Generation is 9%. Among them, only one hasn't retired. Well, I don’t need to tell you who that is.”
That would be me.
By the way, 9%, huh?
…I knew a lot of people died, but that really is a lot.
I started to feel a bit bitter.
“However, strangely enough, the application rate of the Protect was 100%. Excluding those who were already dead and couldn't have it applied, of course. My suspicion started there: ‘S-Class is a grade that puts quite a burden on the mind and is expensive to implement, so why did they go out of their way to apply it even to low-rank survivors?’”
Ah, the 2nd Generation, including Calavera, didn't have this anomaly.
She added that last part as a passing comment.
But that wasn't the important part.
What exactly had Oxymoron found?
“So I looked into that Protect, and wouldn't you know it? It wasn't the S-Class Protect I’m familiar with. It had been… subtly adjusted.”
Slither. Slither.
Accompanied by a sound like needles and thread brushing against each other.
Before I knew it, my arm had been recreated.
My senses were still numb, making it hard to clearly feel its existence.
But I could feel the weight of it.
“Now, could you tilt slightly to the left? It’s time for the right leg.”
“Sure.”
Even though her words interrupted the flow of our important conversation.
I didn't think much of it.
It felt so natural.
After that, my right leg began to be reattached, just like my left arm.
And with it, Oxymoron’s explanation continued.
“The S-Class Confidential Protect basically only has the function of protecting information from being stolen via magic, superpowers, or technology. It doesn't stop you from just casually speaking it out loud. Oh, it does have a secondary Mental Barrier function, but that’s just a side effect.”
Oxymoron explained each detail as she reattached my limbs.
It was a tantalizingly slow progression, but since this wasn't my area of expertise, I listened quietly.
“However, the one placed on the 1st Generation was a bit different. It had a protocol that affected certain memories. It wasn't quite… deleting specific memories, but it was an auxiliary module not found in other Protects that made it impossible to recall those memories unless you consciously focused on them with extreme intensity.”
“…That alone is already a violation of the Management Bureau Agreement, isn't it?”
Harming an innocent Awakened is supposed to be strictly forbidden.
To do something like that, there must be evidence—if not a conviction, then at least something close to it, whether circumstantial or physical.
The fact that they can do it even without a conviction is the dark side of the Bureau.
“Yes, this alone is enough to cause an uproar. It wasn't a Grade 5 secret for nothing. At times like this, I’m glad The System doesn't even leave a log of record checks. At least the Assassination Team won’t be coming for me.”
Even after touching upon such darkness, Oxymoron’s lively tone and jokes didn't cease.
I suppose that makes sense.
To her, even that kind of darkness was something she had already experienced with us—or perhaps even before that, when she lived alone.
“Then, who authorized the procedure?”
There must be someone who did.
“That’s the most interesting part of all this. Who do you think gave the authorization?”
As she said that, Oxymoron moved away from me.
At the same time, I realized my right leg had been reattached.
But her words continued.
“And there were others besides the 1st Generation who had this Protect applied. Who do you think they were?”
She began to laugh, as if it were amusing.
When her laughter subsided.
Oxymoron placed both hands on her chest and continued.
“It was us.”
That one sentence.
A sentence I hadn't expected.
“The first meeting, the first agenda, held right after the founding of the Management Bureau. A secret that no one knows.”
…That can’t be.
That was, surely.
A completely secret meeting.
Consisting of only a few people.
Humanity’s last line of defense.
Even non-Awakened involved in the founding and low-rank Awakened were excluded.
It was a meeting of a broken, flawed group—the first and last time we wielded our privilege—for the sake of those who would take on all the filth for humanity.
I remember every single agenda item discussed there clearly; there’s no way I wouldn't know.
The same should be true for Oxymoron, who was standing before me.
“You’ll say it’s impossible. That’s probably where this secret begins. What exactly happened during that first year when the 1st Generation existed? Or rather, on the very first day?”
It was what I had suspected.
The existence of the one who first wrote the Story.
“Why was it necessary to hide the S-Class Protect used on some of them?”
She tapped her head.
As if even she herself was no exception.
“And why do we not remember it? Even though we were the ones who made the decision.”
At that, I tried to recall the memories of the secret meeting.
Countless agenda items floated through my mind.
But I couldn't find the one Oxymoron was talking about.
“Ah. You have that look on your face right now. But this module doesn't allow you to recall it that easily. It requires a direct memory, not an indirect one.”
She smiled.
“It’s interesting. Truly. A protocol that prevents you from recalling the situation while requiring you to recall a memory almost identical to it, or from that time, to return the result. It basically leaves you with no choice but to see it for yourself, doesn't it?”
Having said that, she took out some cold cotton and began to wipe down my body.
As if this were the final task.
“There’s no guarantee it’s related to the traitor. But among the information related to the first day, this was the most suspicious.”
I agreed with her.
If it were just a Protect related to the 1st Generation, that would be one thing.
But if that meeting was involved, then surely.
Even if it didn't identify the traitor, it would bring us closer to the truth.
Damn it. I should have heard this before I went to the Otherworld.
To think I wasted my chance with The Queen like this.
If it were her, she would have babbled about this with glee.
“Well, how you use this information is up to you, Uncle. Of course, I’ll keep investigating in my own way.”
She moved away from me.
Leaving only my clean body behind.
As if everything was finished.
“Thanks. So, do you want to keep talking?”
I generated my Magical Girl outfit and suggested as I stepped down from the blood-stained Operating Table.
“Sure. This time, let’s not talk about chilling things like traitors. Let’s talk about something more relaxed, like the Librarian’s clothes.”
Oxymoron chimed in and followed me out of the Operating Room.
She offered a rather good topic of conversation.
“I was surprised when the Librarian took on a female form, but the clothes fit quite well. Tall, too…”
And while that interesting story entertained me, I couldn't fully focus on it.
While one ear began to take in her words.
The other half of my mind was filled with a different thought.
The S-Rank Heroes.
01-005-M Crimson★Hammer
02-011-S Calavera
03-001-H Mishika Misha
03-134-S Lord of Infinite Castles
04-013-A Heavenly Sword
04-220-T Prohibition
05-253-P/10-1432-P Oxymoron
06-046-V Macbeth
08-569-H Librarian
999-000-X Yellow King
I thought about how I needed to meet them.
And those who had already retired, as well.