Chapter 389: For Science (1)
Chapter 389: For Science (1)
I pushed myself up from The Sea of Blood.
I’d probably died two or three times.
My body, which had grown heavy and painful due to the lack of essential substances, gradually regained its composure as time passed.
Even the agony of parts of my very being suddenly vanishing was something this body quickly adapted to and overcame.
Of course, I wasn't exactly in peak condition; bloody phlegm bubbled in the back of my throat.
"Pah."
I spat it out. This much was common enough in a normal fight.
The glob of blood landed on a piece of writhing flesh, but since they were already buried under layers of gore, they didn't seem to care whether new filth landed on them or not.
It’s been a while since I felt this powerless.
My sensory range was narrow, making me anxious, and I couldn't even properly gauge the state of my internal organs.
Still... I’m alive. That’s what matters.
A normal Hero would have been dead the moment they stepped into this trap.
That’s how dangerous it was.
And because this trap was triggered, I could deduce one thing.
Those bastards are definitely here.
I don’t know how those vile criminals have managed to evade the Management Bureau’s eyes all this time.
But a scientist who belonged to the Factory Deep Underground is certainly here.
To be honest, I hadn't entirely believed the AO Director when she told me.
It wasn't that I thought she was lying.
Her voice had been thick with desperate sincerity.
I just thought it was possible she’d been deceived by false information planted by The Enemy, or that the scientists had fled long ago.
...I need to take this seriously.
With that thought, I pulled a metal rod from my coat.
Normally, I would have put it in my mouth like a cigarette, but that wasn't why I took it out this time.
I still put it in my mouth, but instead of biting the tip, I slid it in horizontally so it touched both sides of my jaw. Then, I clamped down with my molars, gripping the hard metal firmly.
Cr-crack.
The harsh sound echoed through my jaw and into my ears. Ignoring it, I moved my fingers.
"Huuuuh."
The moment my fingers reached their target, I took a deep breath.
Squelch.
It hurt.
My finger dug into The Hole—the red hole in my own body.
I dug through the blood that had quickly clotted to stop the hemorrhaging, searching for the small piece of metal lodged inside.
My finger moved minutely.
A pain far more intense than the movement of my finger surged through my mind.
Senses that had grown dull and forgotten were resurrected as agonizing pain.
I wanted to quit.
But my finger didn't stop.
My brain screamed in agony, but the more it did, the sharper my vision became.
All my senses converged on The Hole where the pain originated.
Not just my sight, but my sense of touch as well.
As my senses focused, my superior physical form automatically began to read the sensations of that area in exquisite detail.
Since I lacked Otherworldly Power and couldn't control those sensations, I had to accept them in their entirety.
I could feel the minute movements of my finger.
The way it dug into the flesh and pressed against the surrounding tissue.
Gush.
I felt hot blood pour from the microvessels as the obstruction was removed.
It was a perfectly natural reaction for my body, which mimicked a living organism, to prevent tissue necrosis.
But to me right now, that warm blood was nothing more than a useless liquid that amplified the pain.
I possessed a body that was incredibly similar to a human's and performed activities similar to a human's.
However, from an infinitely fundamental perspective, I was different.
This body was a mimicry, composed of Otherworldly Power.
Biologically, analytically, and even through magic, it was identical to a human and thus indistinguishable.
But beyond that perspective—deeper, in an abyss we cannot fathom—a clear difference existed.
Usually, it mimics a human, but in the most extreme moments—at the final moment...
It is an entity that can abandon that mimicry according to the will of its consciousness.
Magical Girls, including myself, are mimics of creatures whose foundations are rooted in Otherworldly Power—mana. Therefore, the moment that Otherworldliness is negated, as it was in this place, we should rightfully vanish. Yet, for some reason, even if our power disappears, our bodies never do.
I used to find this strange. Back then, I brushed it off, thinking the body itself was simply treated as a biological organism.
But after hearing the stories of Zess, Grix, and Ma, I realized the truth.
This is the lifeform that is "me." Even if a Magical Girl is biologically classified as human, from their perspective, we are entities so suspicious they can hardly be called human.
A body composed of pure energy and magic. That is a Magical Girl.
An entity closer to a spirit or a phoenix than a human.
The reason we take human form is simply because our mental health and our own wills dictate it so.
Every Sentient Being proves its own existence through will alone, even without special powers.
Even if struck by something that negates one's very nature, as long as the will to exist remains, that will cannot be denied, and thus, the form remains.
Perhaps those who use Otherworld Erosion like it's nothing wouldn't feel much of a difference even if everything was negated like this.
They are beings proven enough to change the world on their own.
To negate their power, something of this measly level wouldn't be enough.
As I continued those thoughts...
...I caught it.
The finger rummaging through the wound finally gripped the bullet.
I pulled it out and threw it to the ground.
"Kgggh...!"
Naturally, the pain followed.
But it was bearable.
I had already experienced countless agonies.
I’d rather have been shot clean through.
Instead of having the damn thing stay inside and cause problems.
"Whew."
Having passed one hurdle, I exhaled a long breath with the rod still in my mouth.
Soon, I moved toward the next target.
The next wound. Toward the bullet that hadn't passed through.
And to forget the pain...
I immersed myself in a new thought.
About whether I could still claim to be human.
Actually, the answer was already decided.
This train of thought was merely a process of building up logic in reverse to reach that predetermined answer.
I... am still human.
* * *
Let’s just get to the conclusion.
What I did was a complete waste of time.
Clenching my teeth to pull out the bullets, immersing myself in unfitting contemplations about proving my existence just to get over the pain—it was all a total waste.
Naturally, I assumed this shitty Otherworld Negation Field would stay active until I met the scientists, so I removed the bullets that would hinder my movements and cause pain.
But the moment I took a few steps, dragging my mangled, treated wounds...
Beep.
The field was deactivated with the same electronic sound I’d heard when it was first deployed.
And, of course, my body instantly began to heal, emitting particles of light.
"Son of a bitch."
What was all that pain for, you pieces of trash?
As I spat out those curses and prepared to smash the surrounding walls with my now-lightened body...
Clank.
I heard a sound from the ceiling and looked up.
A hole had opened in the ceiling, and something was descending, hanging from a metal arm.
It didn't look like a weapon no matter how I sliced it. After staring at it blankly for about a second, I realized what it was.
...A monitor?
The power flickered on, and the monitor began to glow.
Less than five seconds after the sound began, it had emerged from the ceiling to show me its screen.
A broadcast began.
"Greetings. Hero of Siberia."
"He's likely an Irregular specimen."
Two voices flowed from the speakers, and two men were shown on the monitor.
One was a man with an unnervingly thin body, messy brown hair sticking out in all directions, and a magnifying glass attached to his left eye.
The other was a man with a physique so overwhelming he could have been a wrestler, with sideburns and a beard grown out so messily it felt dirty. Despite that, his hair—the color of tarnished gold—was neatly styled, and he wore sunglasses. It was an utterly bizarre sight.
The Slim One and the Big One, huh?
The big one looks like he could grab the skinny one and snap him in half.
"Hmm. Are you still uncomfortable? I believe the field has already been retracted."
"Even if he dies, the corpse remains. It's not a problem."
They spoke to each other with absolutely no sense of crisis. The words they directed at me were as casual as if they were on a video call with a friend.
...Should I try to draw out some information?
"...Are you the ones the AO Director mentioned?"
"AO? Ah. You mean Alexandra. Are you perhaps a messenger sent to deliver her answer? If so, my apologies. We naturally assumed you had come to turn us into mincemeat, just like back then."
"What did she say about us?"
...I have no obligation to answer.
However, as long as we are talking, they aren't running away.
Therefore, I spoke as I began to walk.
"What kind of proposal did you make to the AO Director?"
From here on, it was a simple gamble.
If the microphone was only there, this action would be meaningless.
But if they were sufficiently mad, they would follow this conversation.
Clank.
The ceiling opened with a mechanical sound.
A rail hidden in the ceiling revealed itself, and the monitor began to move along the rail, matching my pace.
"Not a messenger? Then you are indeed an enemy come to capture us. Well, acting as a messenger wouldn't suit you anyway."
"Deploy the field. I say we kill him."
"Now, now, wait, Coffin. One of our completed specimens is right there, isn't he?"
Boom!
I immediately swung my hammer upward, smashing the monitor to pieces.
This was something I shouldn't have done. I was supposed to be talking to the opponent to gain information. Breaking the line of communication was a mistake.
But I couldn't stand their words for another second.
"Don't call me a 'Completed Specimen.' You goddamn pieces of filth."
You didn't do a single thing for us.
We grew on our own.
The atrocities you committed against us didn't have the slightest influence.
Just as the AO Director said, that’s nothing but your own delusion.
The Factory Deep Underground. That was nothing but meaningless cruelty.
"Still as violent as ever. Isn't he, Coffin?"
"Everyone gets quiet once they're dead."
Once again, a voice drifted toward me.
Right, these bastards are insane.
If it were just one, I could understand.
Even the meaningless rail installed to move it.
But for a new monitor to pop out the moment one was destroyed...
It must be because they’re out of their minds.
"Well. I suppose it doesn't matter if we tell you. Sasha seems to have spoken about us as well. Between you and us..."
Pop.
Another monitor exploded.
It was nauseating.
The fact that these cruel entities, whose faces I didn't even know, were acting friendly with me.
I don't need information or anything else anymore.
These bastards... I’m just going to kill them, as the AO Director requested.
I’ll kill them.
With that thought, I sprinted down the hallway.
"Now, now. Calm down. We'll tell you."
"Calm... tell..."
"Ca... te..."
The voices echoed.
It was a phenomenon caused by countless newly deployed monitors lining the hallway, all uttering the same words.
"We proposed that she join us again. To fulfill the dream."
"Join... dream..."
Dream, my ass.
"You mean a delusion."
The AO Director confirmed it.
That it was nothing but your delusion.
"A delusion, you say? And yet, that research actually produced results, did it not?"
I didn't want to hear it.
The words of these madmen.
But my ears captured them with perfect clarity.
"The Heroes who were active in the old era are stronger than the Heroes of the current era. It is self-evident that current Heroes should be stronger based on basic specs alone."
"Shut up. That’s because we struggled desperately to survive."
Don't you dare say your delusions gave us anything.
Don't you dare claim even a fraction of the results we earned through our own blood.
"That is also true. However, results are determined by countless variables, and the outcome varies greatly depending on those variables. Then, can you truly assert that what we did to you had no impact whatsoever?"
Pop.
A monitor exploded.
The sound of the explosion mixed with their words.
But their speech continued unabated.
"What we did in the past was certainly wrong."
"Legally, there was no issue. Kapustin."
"That's not what I mean. Didn't Sasha say it too? It's an ethical issue, Coffin. And now, those ethical issues can be partially resolved. We haven't been idling all this time, you know."
Please. Just shut up.
Someone, please shut those bastards up.
"So, how about we start the experiments again from the beginning? This time, we'll even get the consent of the parties involved. If the Management Bureau steps in, recruiting subjects won't be that difficult. Don't worry. It will be safe. There won't be any major problems. Why not forget old grudges? For the sake of the world. For science."
"For the world. For science."
Their words were confident.
Without a shred of doubt, they believed they were right.
Yes. The AO Director was right.
I shouldn't have exchanged a single word with them.
Because they are nothing more than filth...
Buried in the past.