Chapter 357: O-Rank Combat Record - 『The Ember Beyond』 (1)
Chapter 357: O-Rank Combat Record - 『The Ember Beyond』 (1)
“…Ura Sia Gnagl Patan….”
Step.
“…Gra Lu Bias….”
Step.
“…Knaa….”
“….”
“I see, it is you.”
“What have you come to learn?”
“A quest for erased memories? I see. So, you chose to have your memories expunged.”
“I ask out of pure curiosity, but why seek to know them again now? If your whole self discarded them, surely there was a reason?”
“You don’t necessarily have to tell me. It’s just a passing interest.”
“Then, shall we begin the story?”
“However, there is one thing to note. This story is not from my perspective, but from another’s. For at that time, I did not exist.”
“Though, ‘exist’ might be a slightly inaccurate word. Regardless, you understand the nuance.”
“Now. Let us begin the story.”
* * *
“…I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
That was my honest feeling as I watched the phenomenon unfolding before my eyes.
I’ve seen my fair share of disgusting things, but the sight currently laid out before me was enough to turn even my stomach.
…I should have ignored the message when they asked if I had some time to spare.
At the time, I had mindlessly agreed, saying I’d go check out the anomaly.
If I had known where I was going and what I would see, would I have refused?
In the first place, this request didn't suit me at all.
If it was an anomaly related to death, Calavera would have been much more appropriate.
No matter how much the Awakened… no, Heroes… right. It hasn't been long since the term changed, so it doesn't roll off the tongue yet.
Anyway.
The S-Rank Heroes might be busy, but there’s such a thing as the right person for the right job.
I should be sent to places requiring stealth and dirty work, or immense physical force.
Calavera should be sent to places related to souls or death.
That’s how they should be deployed, yet they sent me to a completely wrong location.
Is it because the Management Bureau is still in its early stages…? This is something that needs to be improved.
While grumbling inwardly, I raised my gaze again to look at the scene before me.
Nausea tickled my throat once more, threatening to rise.
Well, still, it’s better than the basement.
Thanks to even more disgusting scenes blooming in my memory in a chain reaction, I was able to face the situation occurring right in front of me.
Though they were said to be strictly managed, these were corpses left abandoned out of necessity.
Corpses half-burnt by flames, where white wriggling things could be seen in the cross-sections of melted skin.
Lumps of meat that had literally begun to rot, melting away to leave disgusting mud on the ground and scattering a scent that lured insects.
Black carbonized remains that had been completely burnt to charcoal, yet still attracted multi-legged bugs searching for something to eat amidst the soot.
The final end of a human being.
A place where the sight of corpses slowly returning to nature was taken for granted.
The University of Tennessee Anthropology Center, commonly known as the Body Farm.
A research facility established not out of some perverted fetish, but to study the decomposition of corpses from an academic perspective.
Because of this, they leave human corpses abandoned in various conditions.
What happens to a corpse that is naturally sealed under accidental circumstances?
How does decomposition occur in a corpse that has already been burned?
Is there a difference in the rate of decay between a fat person and a thin person?
If there is a clean cut on the corpse, does faster decomposition occur at that spot?
Of course, it’s not like these corpses were stolen or anything.
This was a graveyard consisting entirely of those who had donated their bodies, agreeing to academic research for the sake of humanity.
A massive cemetery of noble souls who willingly accepted that their bodies would be carved up by the blade of knowledge rather than enjoying quiet peace in a grave.
A place that had become even more active since Otherworldly Powers spread across the world, as bizarre deaths had increased.
…Or so I heard, but I actually didn't know such a place existed until I received the request.
How do you think I felt when I saw ‘University of Tennessee Anthropology Center, commonly known as the Body Farm’ written on the Management Bureau’s request form?
All sorts of wild imaginations ran through my head.
Was there an Otherworldly Being that fed on humans, and this was a place mass-producing fake corpses for it?
Or were the old higher-ups so insane that they had fallen into necrophilia?
No, I knew they were trash, but surely they weren't that crazy?
The name was bizarre enough to let such thoughts flash through my mind.
However, it didn't take long to realize that it was literally an academic research facility related to corpses.
According to the Management Bureau’s investigation, they were purely conducting academic research and had no connection to anything dark.
Of course.
“Ugh.”
When I watched a corpse’s eyeball melt and pop out with a ‘plop’ sound, followed by a puff of brown smoke, it was hard to think of it as a noble sacrifice beyond the scope of academic issues.
Anyway.
Up to this point, it was something that might happen if noble individuals imagined their own afterlife.
Though, I’m not sure if they would consider it miserable to see their own bodies rotting into such a horrific state beyond what they imagined.
Like being chopped into small pieces and scattered on a grass field to become a seedbed for insects.
Still, even if they couldn't picture it in detail, it was within the realm of expectation.
However.
What we were about to see was something that even the most imaginative person wouldn't be able to conceive happening after their death.
“…So, is it here?”
After passing through the grass field scattered with corpses in various states, we arrived in front of a building.
As if proving it had been erected in a hurry, the thin iron plates driven into the ground to serve as walls were tilted rather than vertical. The wooden plank roof, brought from somewhere, didn't align properly with the iron plates below, resulting in a clumsy structure full of gaps.
Even someone picking up tools for the first time to build a shed in their backyard would likely do a better job than this.
It was probably a structure built hastily to somehow hide this place after realizing the strangeness of the situation.
“Yes…. The number of corpses is gradually increasing. I think this place will be full soon, too.”
Tsk.
As I thought, Calavera should have been the one to come, not me.
Despite that thought, since I had come this far, I resolved to do the job properly and pushed aside the loosely placed wooden plank.
Since no one apparently knew how to attach hinges, the door—which was just a wooden board—scraped against the ground as it slid sideways.
A lightbulb, connected to electrical equipment that was suspiciously neat compared to the pathetic building, illuminated the small room.
“…Guergh.”
“Uuugh….”
“Ah.”
Clatter. Squelch.
Perhaps sensing someone’s arrival, horrific groans and sticky noises echoed in my ears.
“…Holy shit.”
Seeing that, I couldn't help but let out an unfiltered curse.
To think it was actually true.
‘The dead have come back to life.’
When the Management Bureau received that information, they didn't place much weight on it.
Necromancy, combat dolls, physical law anomalies, zombie plagues, simple hallucinations.
Since such things had become real, it was a common, if not frequent, complaint.
Still, since it was a phenomenon that could lead to major problems if left alone, sending an investigator was a standard procedure.
When I arrived here and said as much with a disinterested face, the researchers passionately argued that while they weren't Heroes, they knew death well because they dealt with it, and they complained that the Management Bureau wasn't responding despite this being a completely different phenomenon.
Of course, since that stage was also common, I didn't pay much attention.
However, there was an indefinable sense of dread buried in the persistence of the researchers as they kept describing the phenomenon to me.
And beyond that vast field of corpses.
I came face to face with the phenomenon the researchers had spoken of.
“…You’re saying that is alive?”
“Yes. As I mentioned earlier, biological responses have returned.”
This is driving me crazy.
“…I don’t know much, but isn't this biologically impossible?”
“…We know that very well. However, limited to the remaining parts, responses indicating they are alive are returning.”
Sigh.
I let out a heavy breath at that answer.
I looked more closely at the scattered corpses.
“Guerghhhhh….”
One corpse, holding a liquid filled with a disgusting stench in its mouth, let out a scream while the fluid bubbled.
The corpse’s upper body was half-crushed with a massive hole in one side of its neck, yet it still rolled its rotten eyeballs and continued to spew out bubbles of screaming.
Gurgle. Glug.
Every time the eyeballs moved, disgusting white matter and brown juice leaked from the gaps, yet they moved as if they were alive.
…Dammit.
This isn't right.
I’ve seen Calavera’s necromancy, combat dolls made by modifying corpses, and zombie plagues.
But this is of a different nature.
Calavera’s necromancy, whether it uses corpses or skeletons, gives a strong impression of being resurrected while shrouded in a veil of death.
Combat dolls are usually made to look human even if parts of them are rotting.
And in a zombie plague, because the corpses move, the rotten parts fall off, and only fragments of the corpse barely hang onto the less-rotten parts, giving off an atmosphere like a scarecrow monster.
But this is different.
Because most of their bodies are extremely damaged, they cannot move. The dead are draped in death and decay, yet they show activity that proves they are alive.
With their rotted bodies.
This is a scene where life has been forcibly layered upon a death from which there is no return.
The situation was the same for the other corpses claiming to be alive.
A hand scattered on the ground twitched its fingers and twisted its joints as if in pain.
But since it didn't have the strength to actually move the hand, it merely expressed agony upon the dirt.
Every entity here was like that.
Despite finding life again, they could leave nothing behind in the world.
They didn't follow someone’s orders like in necromancy or with combat dolls.
They didn't try to harm others or spread what had encroached upon their bodies like a zombie plague.
The resurrected corpses here merely sang of their own pain.
To that, I posed a question.
“…Have there been attempts to end the corpses in this state…?”
I know. I know it’s a horrific thing to ask.
“…The result of that is the first one you saw.”
I see.
It meant they had already tried.
Even knowing it was cruel and horrific.
Even knowing they had no right to do so.
Because the screams were so terrible, they felt the urge to send them back to death.
However, even when they carried it out, the corpses did not return.
They remained in their even more horrific bodies, practically begging to be killed.
“…I will relay this as quickly as possible.”
Those idiots at the Management Bureau.
This is different from a typical corpse resurrection situation.
First, I have to call Calavera.
We need to make sure through the soul whether these things are truly alive, or if someone with a malicious taste is faking their resurrection….
While I was thinking that and quickly drafting a report in my head on how to convey this to the Bureau.
“Professor! There was one more!”
With a loud shout.
A researcher ran into the building.
Carrying a rotting corpse on his back.
He didn't seem to care that his own body and clothes were being defiled by the rot of the corpse.
As if only the thing preventing their eternal rest was important.
“….”
However, there was no one here who could do anything about it.
Present here was only one foolish Hero who only knew how to swing a hammer.
And one who, despite being an expert in this field, could not understand the new laws defiled by the Otherworld.
So, we.
We could only watch as the newly created victim was laid down in this cramped space.
“…I will report this immediately.”
I repeated the words I had said a moment ago, but with a stronger tone.
“…Yes, we would be gratef….”
The moment the man who had guided me, the one called Professor, was about to agree.
“…Krrk…. Are you… listening?”
A voice that sounded like it crawled out of a nightmare echoed.
A voice accompanied by gurgling despair, bubbling froth, and a pouring stench.
The voice uttered by the corpse that had just arrived.
“I can’t… hear…. I can’t see…. Someone…. listen….”
It continued its desperate voice.
As if asking someone to listen.
“…The Phoenix is coming. From beyond death…. A red… light. The Phoenix is….”
It only repeated those words.