Chapter 385: Regressionists (1)
Chapter 385: Regressionists (1)
In today's world, conflicts between humans have actually decreased significantly.
First, there are the disputes between nations.
Surprisingly, these have been largely resolved.
Even if they plot behind closed doors, most disputes are settled under the mediation of the United Nations to the greatest extent possible.
To put it bluntly, if a nation refuses to comply, they face the deployment of units directly under the UN or massive sanctions, such as the withdrawal of support from the Management Bureau. What else can they do?
This has effectively put an end to disputes triggered by physical violence.
Furthermore, simple conflicts of interest that don't escalate into large-scale wars are handled at the level of the UN Parliament.
Naturally, there were complaints about interference in domestic affairs and such, but well, those were somehow resolved.
Yes, somehow.
Religion is much the same.
Through various means, those groups were turned into entities friendly toward Heroes and the Management Bureau.
At least, that is the general perspective and the official method.
Anyone involved in the darker side of the Management Bureau would know the real reason.
In truth, those are merely external justifications; the real reason is that the very perception of the people has been completely transformed.
The fifteen years preceding the establishment of the Management Bureau were enough time to change human consciousness.
People realized that the groups at The Core of their identities were not absolute. Whether the ideas that spread from that realization were prejudices or facts, they learned that a far more important point lay at the very bottom.
Their own survival. The survival of humanity.
In the face of the greatest enemy, they realized there were people nearby whose hands they could hold.
Thus, the most fundamental perception of humanity shifted.
However, it is a perception that can be forgotten again.
The fifteen years during which such awareness blossomed were only possible because people were in such a state of chaos. Once the world becomes comfortable enough to live in again and society stabilizes, disputes between groups will inevitably resurface.
Because there are those who remember the past.
To counter this, we sowed seeds.
Not direct seeds, but indirect ones.
Media, education, the internet, rumors, and lifestyle.
Stories and rumors that foster a friendly perspective toward other groups; education that teaches that being consumed by one's own group is a bad thing.
Developing underdeveloped regions to match others and changing their way of life was also a branch of this perception-altering plan.
While these actions cannot stop all conflicts, they can minimize them.
I don't know which of the many indirect methods the Management Bureau quietly employed behind the scenes actually proved effective.
After all, I am not a scholar well-versed in such matters, nor do I know how extensively or precisely the Human Unification Plan was carried out.
However, I do know that it is working.
Those who lived in the old era still haven't escaped the mindsets rooted in their foundations, but among the new generation growing up, such consciousness has become incredibly faint.
Of course, even with this new perception taking root, conflict has not vanished.
Somewhere, battles are still being fought in the name of nations, and struggles for group interests never cease.
Even within the United Nations, which oversees all these disputes, dogfights to represent national interests break out every time they enter the parliament floor.
But at least they can take a step back for the sake of the whole, and even if a decision detrimental to them is passed, they endure it, thinking it can't be helped this time.
In a way, the world has drawn closer to the peaceful ideal people once wished for in the past.
Seeing this, some often say that humanity has been consumed by an ideology for the sake of the whole, or that dissenting opinions are being suppressed for the war against the Otherworld.
But what does it matter?
I’m satisfied with a world like this.
Communication issues like language barriers have been largely solved thanks to translators using Otherworldly Technology. Once the children born after the establishment of the Management Bureau grow up, boundaries may become even more blurred than they are now.
Thus, while the boundaries of groups that existed in the old world are fading, one group remains an exception.
The Regressionists.
A group that claims everything touched by the external Otherworldly Power must be driven out, and that we must return to a pure past.
They do not understand Heroes.
They do not understand the Awakened.
They simply hate the world.
The Management Bureau is an entity that must be torn down, and the United Nations, which tolerates it, is a group that should not exist.
Because they hate everything in the world so much, they cannot reach an agreement, no matter what conditions are offered.
The only time they ever joined hands with us was during the Phoenix Incident.
Even then, it wasn't the group itself, but a few individuals with those beliefs who joined in.
The conversation we shared while marching together along that path of hardship proves it.
'Why do you hate us so much?'
'...The current world is wrong. Therefore, I seek to set it right.'
'I agree with that, but we can't go back to those times.'
'Yes, if we returned to those days, the world would perish. Many of my brothers claim the world is like this because you exist, and that if you all disappeared, peace would return. But I do not think so.'
'...Then what on earth do you want?'
'I only wish to follow the natural order. If we must perish, we shall perish like humans. Without abandoning our humanity—as humans.'
'Then why not just leave the Phoenix alone?'
'Do you think the people dying right now are dying like humans?'
'...No.'
'Exactly. That is what I mean.'
The fact that someone showing such an extreme reaction was considered one of the more moderate members of that group proves the radicalism of the Regressionists.
As long as such an ideology remains their foundation, we cannot join hands with them.
Especially since I exist here as a Hero.
That is why I am currently racing across the earth.
Boom.
Shells falling from the sky explode behind my back.
Shells, grenades, missiles.
Type S of direct projectiles don't pose a threat to me.
Automatic targeting set to the average speed of a tank or an Awakened?
I am several times faster than that.
Wide-range shockwaves from explosions?
Unless it's a direct hit, the effective range where the shock barely reaches has no impact on me.
Among the defensive weapons pouring from between the canyons, the only ones that could significantly damage me are plasma-based weapons.
However, I don't see any of them aiming or firing at me yet.
It's only natural, I suppose.
I haven't entered the range of such weapons yet.
Though, I expect they'll show up soon.
The moment I thought that.
Here it comes.
Following my intuition, I immediately kicked off the ground and twisted my body.
Flash.
A brief glint of light strikes the spot where I had just been.
It's a laser packed with immense energy, but the beam itself isn't the point.
A direct hit would hurt due to the sheer amount of energy, but what matters is what comes next.
The massive energy driven into the ground is controlled to turn the entire surrounding environment into plasma.
As the remaining energy stimulates it and breaks its stability—
Pop.
Like a balloon bursting, a massive amount of energy scatters in all directions.
Of course, that attack also occurred after I had already passed, so it was meaningless.
By the way, that thing is quite ridiculous too.
The Plasma Storm Generator.
That weapon is a product of Otherworldly Technology.
The laser fired initially is itself a Magic Circle.
The Magic Circle uses the energy in the laser to plasmify the surroundings, then uses the remaining energy to rapidly collapse the surrounding plasma, triggering a plasma storm at the designated location.
They say it's a weapon that could have been developed with past technology if a few restrictive conditions were met, but it was the Otherworldly Technology within it that bypassed all those restrictions and made it viable as a weapon.
A weapon that combines such Otherworldly Technology with the technology of the past.
And the Regressionists are using it.
The very Regressionists who reject everything originating from the Otherworld.
Could there be a greater irony?
I think this as I sprint through the rushing flames and flashes with a single stride.
They just hate us; to them, the Otherworld is simply one of the reasons they use to justify that hatred.
I kicked off the ground again and hurled my body forward.
A slight advance achieved by tearing up the earth beneath my feet.
Since I haven't reached the canyon that serves as their stronghold yet, it's a short advance—hardly enough to say I've crossed a long distance in an instant.
But with that one advance, everything went silent.
Nothing dangerous is flying toward me anymore.
Bullets and grenades are still pouring down like rain, so I don't stop moving.
However, tactical maneuvers like sudden dashes or emergency stops are no longer necessary.
Yes, they must know.
From here on, such attacks would involve their own allies.
It's that close a distance.
A plasma storm would certainly grind up nearby allies, and shells might hit their own people if they explode incorrectly.
If they were certain it could kill me, they might make the strategic decision to endure the loss of their allies.
But from their perspective, I am a being who has just pierced through that massive bombardment. Could that one shot really catch me?
The silence is likely the result of such obvious thoughts passing between them.
I cease my tactical maneuvers and twist my body, taking in the surrounding situation.
The placement of turrets, the places where enemies are hiding, the entities where Otherworldly Power feels particularly strong, the movements of the members.
To gather the information needed to annihilate a group, I intentionally move slowly, dodging attacks.
Perhaps because I stopped my tactical maneuvers and repeated only simple zigzagging movements, bullets following my now-predictable path lodge into my body, and grenades explode in close proximity.
But it's not a great loss.
My body isn't as hard as a monster's, so bullets I failed to deflect with my hammer sink into my flesh, and the small fragments and flames created by grenades tickle me.
But that is no reason for me to stop.
They are just simple bullets, not even Special Ammunition.
It's a force far too weak to stop me.
Thus, overcoming all of it with technique and physical strength, the moment I decide I've gathered all the necessary information—
Thump.
I gather strength in my legs and stomp on the ground. Converting that impact into speed, I launch myself forward.
I reach the target point in an instant.
The main gate of the canyon, the place where countless people held their breath and aimed their muzzles at me.
With faces clearly marked by tension, they are aiming at the spot where I originally was.
But I have already infiltrated their ranks, lifting my foot.
Who am I?
I am the Management Bureau’s Magical Girl.
One of those who dwells in the darkness.
A blood-stained being who once slaughtered such entities.
My hammer is stained with the blood of monsters.
But what stains my body and soul is the blood of humans.
There are no civilians here.
There are only those here who threaten the world we have built.
Therefore, I release my power.
A technique created specifically for use in places like this.
Everyone, kneel.
Boom.
A foot imbued with Form stomps the earth.
A massive wave of Otherworldly Power spreads out from where I stepped.
Those who were aiming at my previous position—a spot now occupied only by a cloud of dust from the aftermath of my leap—finally realize where I am and whip their heads around, but—
Too late, you vermin.
Immediately, they lose consciousness.
They could not withstand the storm of Otherworldly Power, laden with my immense killing intent.
The vast majority of the terrorists pass out on the spot. However, a few who managed to endure that power scream something and aim their guns at me.
Looking at them, I gave a smile.
It would have been easier if you'd just fainted.
Boom.
The second step.
With this, everything will be settled.
The storm, which was merely a representation of my will, spreads out as physical force.
The second footstep is merely a shockwave that hasn't even taken a specific direction yet.
But to those who possess no power, it is pure violence.
"Gah...!"
Similar groans erupt from all sides as they lose consciousness.
Some had their desperately maintained focus shattered by the sudden shockwave.
Others were simply sent flying by the impact, losing consciousness as they slammed into something.
Thus, the surroundings were cleared.
The third step...
I slowly lift my head and scan the area.
Is anyone moving? Is there anyone showing intense life signs, still conscious?
Since there were no such beings—
...It won't be necessary.
Lowering my raised foot, I slowly began to walk deeper into the canyon.
I have only neutralized the entrance.
There are still plenty of vermin left to clean up.