Chapter 393: The Joyful Laboratory (2)
Chapter 393: The Joyful Laboratory (2)
Lately, walking around the Research Institute, all sorts of things have been reaching my ears.
The term "Budget Breaker" I heard from Baek Si-hyun was just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve heard words like "God of Misfortune"—a term I’ve even muttered to myself—and even slanderous titles like "God of Destruction" or "Causality-Reversing Destroyer." Some of them sound like names you’d give to an O-Rank Monster.
I can understand the process of how these nicknames came to be.
After all, the number of projects that have been completely trashed immediately after I joined them over the past few days isn't just one or two.
However, blaming all of that on me is a hundred percent frame-up.
The main point of those rumors is that because I’m there, numerous machines explode or malfunction.
But isn't the real problem that they built things that would do that in the first place?
As I heard when I went to the Soviet Union with the Librarian, there’s a high probability of strange things happening around Heroes, and they did say I’m on the extreme end of that spectrum. So, logically, it’s not an entirely absurd conclusion.
But even if that’s true, you can’t make the impossible possible.
Think about it. It’s only natural.
No matter what, the white rice I eat from my bowl has never exploded, has it? The things that exploded were things that were already prone to exploding.
In other words, they simply overlooked the low probability of their devices exploding or malfunctioning during the design process, and that probability just happened to skyrocket, leading to these incidents.
Of course, that’s only if I concede about a hundred thousand steps and assume the unverified delusion—that my mere presence drastically increases the probability of such accidents—is actually true.
This whole thing is just a series of coincidences.
It just so happened that I joined, it just so happened that a design flaw in the device manifested, and it just so happened to explode.
Because the probability of such things happening is so low, those who experienced it are falling for the "Gambler's Fallacy" or whatever and getting the wrong idea.
Heaven is truly indifferent.
If I’m going to hit such low odds, shouldn't it be the American Powerball instead?
Despite this strange phenomenon, the $200 worth of Powerball tickets I bought by draining my bank account were all duds.
And yesterday, while playing poker with the researchers, my opponent pulled a straight flush.
I mean, damn it, they were raising with such insane tension that I obviously thought they were bluffing. How was I supposed to know they were nervous because their cards were too good?
How does a full house lose?
Why did I get cleaned out down to my last cent even while using a cheat like emotion reading?
If I hadn't gone all-in there, I would've at least had enough for a beer.
Now, with the money I have left, I can't even buy a single lollipop.
Damn my life. Damn my luck.
Sucking on a lollipop I bought from the institute's convenience store with my last bit of change, I wandered the hallways.
"Eek!"
"He's coming!"
After hearing those voices from across the hall, I immediately heard the sounds of doors slamming shut and curtains being drawn.
Normally, being treated like this would make me angry, but I’ve gotten used to it by now.
They’re just desperate to protect their budgets in their own way, aren't they? If so, I suppose they might turn to superstition.
Soothing myself like that, I walked through the hallway that had become deathly silent.
Though it was annoying that I could still sense plenty of people hiding.
Well, it can't be helped.
Researchers aren't a combat class, and it would be too much to demand stealth from non-combatants.
So, I walked down the hall, doing my best to pretend I didn't see them.
Then, just as I was moving through the corridor that had become as quiet as if a Nameless Form had been dropped into the lab—
"You're getting quite the grand treatment today as well, I see?"
"Shut it. Get lost."
A scientist I’ve been seeing a lot of lately spoke to me.
It was Dr. Ludwig, flaunting his madman persona while holding a cup of coffee.
"Now, don't be like that. Lend me an ear. I’ve brought an interesting proposal."
Despite my telling him to get lost, he stuck to my side like glue and started talking as we walked down the hall together.
Honestly, this guy is definitely out of his mind.
Of course, he was already crazy the moment he started making monsters and causing chaos, but this is a different kind of madness.
Seeing how he comes to talk to me every other day, it seems like he doesn't have many people to hang out with in this lab due to his background and eccentric personality, so he’s trying to soothe his loneliness by talking to me.
But wasn't I the one who trashed this guy's limbs?
Even now, he starts spouting nonsense whenever he sees a hammer because of his trauma, so I don't know why he keeps clinging to me.
Probably because he’s flipped, or not in his right mind, or just plain crazy.
Yeah. Only crazy people like him would stick to me right now.
Since any scientist with a normal sensibility would be hiding in fear of their project failing, the only ones approaching me are either weirdos who find this situation interesting and want to use it as a research topic, or just people who are naturally nuts.
And this guy Ludwig next to me seems to fall into both categories.
"..."
Therefore, no matter what the guy next to me said, I kept my mouth shut.
"I’ve looked over the incident logs. They’re recorded in great detail on the institute's internal network. If all of that is true, the damage being caused is at a level where it’s as if the Regressionist terrorists carried out a successful attack just by sending you back to the lab in one piece, Ha-ram."
"Hey, it's not that bad, you lunatic."
Now he’s saying I’m on par with a terrorist.
No matter how you look at it, I haven't done that much...
"Hmm. Do you realize that the losses you've caused the institute are greater than the damage inflicted by the terrorists over several weeks? Four standard-issue projects for the Management Bureau Defense Force annihilated, five test sites exploded, one research wing vanished into a dimensional rift because it slipped out of the Reality Anchor’s influence, and the Energy Reversal Field shut down because you climbed over a wall to buy lottery tickets at night. The minor projects are already too numerous to count. It’s only because there haven't been any casualties worse than serious injuries, but in terms of monetary damage, you are quite the accomplished terrorist."
"Ack."
Wait, that many things blew up?
No, hmm. Well.
If one project is destroyed, I guess the related projects get destroyed too, but does it really work like a domino effect like that?
And what's with the Energy Reversal Field? I didn't feel a thing.
Is it really my fault...
No, it's not.
Why blame me for what the scientists and engineers screwed up?
I’m just a test subject who provided my body for a dangerous location.
So, I decided to stand my ground.
"It's not my fault. It's because those things were poorly made."
"It is true that everyone except the AO Institute Director is a fool steeped in pacifism. However, your causality is also suspiciously twisted, Ha-ram."
"I told you it's not, you jerk."
Why is he trying to pin it on me?
It's a coincidence. All of it is a coincidence.
Or maybe it's the lingering effects of the collaboration between those Geneva Branch mages and that third tentacle guy.
Even in that case, it's not my fault.
"That's why I'm suggesting we set up a place to prove it. Isn't this a good opportunity to debunk that Theory of Neutralizing Specific Magical Girl Vehicles that’s been stuck to you?"
"Wait, what was that theory just now?"
An ominous name just flew past.
"Oh, that? It's a theory recently re-proposed by Dr. Joel. There was some talk about it being based on unverified data, but as the data recording the disasters that occurred in this lab was passed over to him, it's now considered semi-verified."
Joel? Who the hell is he to take my personal data and...
Wait. Joel. I’ve heard that name somewhere.
Joel... Joel...
Ah. I remember.
That was the Librarian’s old name.
"Li... Joe-eeeeeeeeeeel! That bastard repays my kindness with treachery?!"
My last shred of reason barely managed to stop me from shouting his Hero name, Librarian, but I couldn't do anything about the roar of fury that escaped me.
"Ah, I take it you know him?"
"He's an old friend of mine!"
I'm going to kill him.
"If he's a friend, all the more reason to ruin his theory. A claim only becomes solid by being smashed and then restored. If you truly have a friendship, you should be able to destroy the other person's argument to be a true friend. So, participate in the project..."
"Ah. That's a separate matter."
I was fuming at my friend's betrayal, but the moment I heard the devilish whispering of the mad scientist next to me, my anger evaporated instantly.
That is that, and this is this.
So, before that mad scientist could push anything else on me, I quickly sprinted down the hall.
A few seconds later.
Due to the basic difference in physical specs, by the time the distance between the mad scientist and me had widened—
"I wondered why it was so noisy, and it turns out it's you, Ha-ram-nim."
In front of me, having just rounded the corner, appeared a gray ball of dust flying through the air.
To be more precise, it was Un-ho, who seemed to be living the high life lately as he had put on weight again, lying on a tablet that was floating in mid-air.
No matter how much technology has advanced, no one would be foolish enough to make a tablet fly just to float around, so Un-ho must be using magic to use it as his mount.
A flying mount that always shows the videos he wants to watch.
Truly an idea that could only come from an impure being burdened with the Original Sin of Sloth.
I felt like grabbing that ball of slothful dust and wringing it out like a mop to squeeze the fat off its belly and sell it as "ferret oil," but...
"Lose some weight."
Since getting away from the mad scientist following me was more important, I left him with those words and was about to run off when—
"Ugh."
Suddenly, Un-ho behind me made a strange sound.
What?
Even so, I couldn't just ignore my partner making a weird noise, so I turned my gaze back to Un-ho. A bizarre sight met my eyes.
"Ha-ram-nim. I... my stomach feels weird..."
In the brief moment I had looked away, the gray-furred Un-ho’s body had rapidly bloated.
He was already chubby, but his body grew at an incredible rate as if air was being pumped into a balloon.
While I was bewildered by this inexplicable situation—
"Hidebu!"
Pop.
With a strange scream, Un-ho exploded like a bomb.
Right in front of my eyes, no less.
Thud.
About ten seconds passed after the tablet fell to the ground as its magic caster vanished, and bits of flesh scattered around.
"...What the hell?"
I finally snapped out of the shock of this anomaly and spoke.
I wasn't worried about Un-ho.
It wasn't the first time this guy had exploded, so he’d find his way back.
In fact, Un-ho’s bits of flesh were already slowly gathering in one place like some kind of slime monster.
No, but why did he explode?
Did he go around eating bombs or something?
Of course not.
The only suspicious thing was his fur turning gray.
Could that really make a kid suddenly explode?
No matter how reckless the scientists are, they wouldn't give a Hero’s mascot a drug that had even a 0.1% chance of such a danger.
Then, really.
"Is it my fault?"
Something that shouldn't explode just exploded right in front of me.
Something on the same level as the rice in my bowl exploding had just happened, so I couldn't even make excuses anymore.
As I stood there lost in thought, watching the white bits of flesh gradually gather—
"That's quite a fascinating biological sample."
The mad scientist, who had finally caught up to me, stared intently at a wriggling piece of Un-ho he had picked up, looking as if a living being exploding was nothing special.
"Put that down for a second. You know what you said earlier?"
I spoke to the madman.
"Which part do you mean?"
A crooked smile spread across his face as he listened to me.
He knew exactly what I was talking about, but his twisted personality made him want to hear me say it myself.
Normally, I would've kicked him in the shins, but I had no choice but to speak.
"The Causality Singularity Experiment. Let's do it."
No, I really feel like I have to do this.
Back in Geneva, I was the only unlucky one, but now it seems like I’m fine while innocent people are getting caught up in my mess.
I can handle getting hurt myself, but I can't stand seeing others get hurt.
It’s a relief that it was only Un-ho who blew up. Imagine if it had been someone else.
At least Un-ho’s fur color has returned to white.
I’ll probably never know what kind of entanglement leads to such a result, though.