Chapter 12: Man is a Tool-Using Animal
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 12: Man is a Tool-Using Animal
Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing—
The sound of today's alarm clock came to me not as mere noise, but as agony.
Was this what it would sound like if a cicada made of steel were to sing its heart out? It felt like a thin blade hacking away at my eardrums. Unable to bear it, I convulsively leaped out of bed and shut off the wall-mounted alarm.
The process of headaches becoming a daily routine was far from pleasant. I clutched my ringing head and gritted my teeth.
“Ugh. This damn alarm clock.”
The Military State's alarm clocks can be set earlier, but never later. No matter how late you set it, it would automatically blare at 8 a.m. The noise was practically an attack.
It's no wonder they joke that if you're looking for a corpse, just find a house with an alarm still ringing. After all, no living person could endure that noise.
The only way to sleep in is to smash it, but then you can't guarantee you'll wake up tomorrow. In the Military State, where the day's schedule is as precisely interlocked as gears, being late is practically a crime.
“Vicious bastards. Would it kill them to let us wake up peacefully?”
After a long stretch, I stood before the washbasin and looked in the mirror. In the cracked mirror was my face, fractured along the fissures. My mouth was twisted at just the right angle to hide my expression.
I was wearing a single standard supply shirt. It was the one the Military State had given me before the straitjacket. The shirt, worn for several days, was already covered in wrinkles.
“I should do some laundry soon. And find a change of clothes. I can't be a one-shirt gentleman.”
People lived here once, so there must be some wearable clothes left somewhere. I finished washing my face and headed outside, determined to find even some worn-out garments.
“Woof.”
And then I closed the door again. I pulled the handle tight, braced my foot firmly against the door, and sank into thought.
Why is that furball waiting in front of my door? Don't tell me she plans to drag me out for a walk this early in the morning.
“Woof woof.”
No. Absolutely not. I have too much to do here. As it is, I'm the only one who can feed her, so I already have to cook every day. If I have to walk this dreadful glutton every day on top of that, I'll have no personal time left.
You might ask, what's the big deal about a simple walk? My opponent is the Dog King. And that means she takes her walks like a king.
“Woof woof woof.”
I could hear the sound of her scratching furiously at the door with her front paws. The laborer dorms have no locks, so every time her paws struck, the door rattled and my whole body shook with it.
Azzy wasn't even trying to break the door down; she was just scratching. The problem was that even that simple action felt like being hit by a battering ram. At this rate, my strength would give out before the door did.
In a siege, it's not uncommon for a small defending force to open the gates and charge. Not because they're stupid, but because they want to do something before collapsing helplessly from exhaustion.
I, too, placed my hand on the doorknob with the heart of a general facing his final stand.
“This is it. You damn beast.”
I was afraid. How could I not be, facing a monster that could separate me into blood, flesh, and bone with a single gesture?
But dogs are inherently loyal to humans. As the Dog King, Azzy holds infinite goodwill toward humans and rarely ever attacks. She might give a little nip as a sign of protest, but she wouldn't tear me to shreds.
Until now, I'd treated her like a master to build up goodwill, but not anymore.
Humanity will be defeated no longer.
We will not yield to the demands of beasts.
We will fight back. Even if it means death.
With firm resolve, I threw the door open. Azzy, who had been sitting in front of it, looked up at me.
Toward Azzy, who was camped out like a debt collector, I shouted with all the tragic gravity I could muster.
“What are you after, you dreadful beast!”
“Woof?”
If she shamelessly demands a walk this early, I'll leash her and toss her out. If she begs for food like a pig, I'll make her a special meal loaded with spices and serve it as dog food.
My inability to win a fight against her was irrelevant. What mattered was my mindset. The sheer stubbornness that refused to accept defeat lying down!
It's a showdown, you mutt!
“Woof.”
Just as I steeled myself, Azzy crept over to my feet. Then she plopped down again and let out a long yawn.
Huh. She's not... demanding a walk? Not pestering me for food?
I waited for about a minute, just in case, but Azzy just sat there, occasionally tapping me with her tail.
“So you just came to hang out. Phew. What a relief.”
Even the Dog King is still a dog. She needs interaction with humans. But the other humans here are a little too flawed to interact with a dog. The Regressor has no time, and the vampire has no life. Right now, I'm the only one the Dog King can properly interact with.
I relaxed and slowly reached my hand down. Azzy, who had been yawning languidly, saw my hand and rubbed her face against it.
“Yes. This is how a pet should act. You've finally realized your place!”
The true rulers of this world are humans. That is why the Beast Kings took on human form and learned to speak. As the heralds of their species, the Beast Kings needed to be able to communicate with the world's dominant species.
Like any other dog, she's overly energetic and subtly stubborn, but the difference is that she can communicate at any time. I twisted my lips into a smirk as I petted Azzy's head.
“Heheheh. Yes, good girl. Isn't it so much better when you're obedient? I don't even have to lift a finger!”
As long as she listens, there's no better animal than a dog. Well, fine. This is tolerable.
“Since you're so docile, I can put you to good use. Follow me, Azzy! I need to use that nose of yours to search the control room.”
“Woof!”
I headed for the control room, and Azzy immediately got up and followed me.
If this had been a normal prison, a tall tower would have been erected next to it.
That tower would have stood two stories higher than the roof of the education facility, its head held stiffly as it looked down upon the swarming ants that were the prisoners and laborers. It would have been hung with countless searchlights like the eyes of an abyssal fish, meticulously monitoring each and every prisoner. If any prisoners tried to hide from the lights in the dark shadows, it would have screamed like a child who lost a toy, hunting them down no matter what. What punishment would follow, I need not say.
But this was Tantalus, a place that housed only the most heinous criminals, those even the Military State couldn't control.
To manage the prisoners and survive here, the State would have had to make a significant investment, either by deploying an army or dispatching a General-level powerhouse.
Of course, that was impossible. Wasting that much military power on mere prison guards would be extremely inefficient.
They must have calculated that it was more economical to abandon the place entirely than to pour in personnel and resources. So they dropped the prison into the Abyss and washed their hands of it. Let them kill or save each other as they pleased.
In any case, that was likely why Tantalus had no tall, authoritarian watchtower, but only a square, temporary building that looked like a warehouse. It was a container building, sectioned off by a humble fence.
And it wasn't even in one piece now. I squinted and climbed over the collapsed fence.
“Ugh, it's a total mess in here.”
One wall was completely demolished. A shape like a giant handprint suggested someone had simply slapped it and brought it down. The iron plates reinforcing the building were riddled with dozens of small holes, as if someone had used them for target practice. The edges of the holes showed signs of melted iron. What did they shoot with? You couldn't do this with fire arrows.
The roof had caved in pathetically. There was no need to search for the reason. A concrete slab with a massive steel frame, the kind you'd see at a construction site, had smashed right through it. One of the building's four corners was gone, as if bitten off by something… but no creature could have a mouth that large. It must be my imagination, right?
What in the world happened here? I was walking cautiously, hunched over, when the ground suddenly shook. I quickly dropped low and looked down to see a mark where someone had sliced through the concrete floor as cleanly as a cake. This was probably the Regressor's handiwork.
Something—something had happened here, but I was just a mind reader. I couldn't know what occurred in the past. I could only surmise that a storm of enormous hatred and violence had swept through.
Unable to take another step, I just scratched my chin and looked back at Azzy.
“Azzy, do you happen to remember what happened here?”
“Woof! Everyone fought!”
“Uh, right. Who? And why were they fighting? Could you perhaps explain in detail, according to the five Ws and one H?”
“Woof?”
“Never mind. My fault for asking you.”
Azzy wouldn't have taken anyone's side. Being loyal to all humans also meant being equally indifferent to all humans. Even if I built up this much goodwill with her, she wouldn't side with me if I fought someone else.
Now that I thought about it, that pissed me off. I've been so good to her, and she wouldn't even take my side?
“Hah. All my effort for nothing. No matter how much I feed her and walk her, a dog's just a dog in the end…”
“I like walks!”
“I know. It's just that I don't like walks as much as you do.”
“Woof?!”
Azzy's eyes widened in shock. Was the idea of not particularly liking walks that stunning?
Suddenly anxious, she started hopping up and down and began speaking more fluently than I'd ever seen.
“Woof! Walks, good! Refreshing! Sometimes see new things! Fun!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Walks have lots of good things! Feel good! Big space! Run around!”
What am I supposed to do with that? Is she trying to persuade me? Hah, I may have been reduced to a prisoner, but did she really think I'd be persuaded by a dog?
After passionately extolling the virtues of walks, using what she considered advanced vocabulary, Azzy looked up at me with sparkling eyes and said:
“You, not like walks?”
“I like walks, too.”
“Woof!”
Her joy was premature. Seeing her spin in circles, I added curtly:
“I just happen to like lying down and sleeping a whole lot more.”
“W-woof?!”
“Too late. Let's go.”
Right. What's the use in asking you? I'll have to find out for myself.
After our conversation on her level, I stepped through the triple-shredded door and into the control room.
How do you even tear a steel door apart like paper?
Maybe I should just go back.
The inside of the building was dark, with no lights on. If the roof had been intact and the walls hadn't collapsed, the unlit interior would have been pitch black. Fortunately, light streamed in through the architecturally unplanned holes, making it bright enough to distinguish objects.
Befitting a control room, I could see what were once machines among the collapsed and broken debris. I say "were" because they were now so damaged that I could barely recognize their original forms. Scattered bolts and nuts. Cracked gears, instrument panels with their edges torn off. The eerie sight of dismembered golem arms and legs, and so on.
The machines and magic golems that had once managed this place had been completely annihilated by some kind of attack.
“Looks like they smashed everything on their way out. I can understand the sentiment.”
They put us through a lot, so let's return the favor. A perfectly righteous mindset. I muttered meaningless words as I rummaged through the mountain of wreckage, hoping to find any items or equipment the Military State hadn't managed to retrieve that I could use.
But there was too much debris, and it was too dark inside. In the gloom, unsure where to even begin, I straightened up and wiped the sweat from my brow. The building, which had seemed small from the outside, now felt annoyingly vast now that I was the one searching it. On top of that, the wreckage was so heavy that I had to grunt and groan every time I lifted something.
Even if treasure was hidden in that darkness, I had no way to find it and no strength to claim it.
“Tch. A bust, huh?”
Just as I decided to head back, Azzy's head snapped up, and she dove into the debris.
Every time she dug with her paws, large pieces of wreckage flew through the air with strange noises. I hid under the collapsed roof and waited for the chaos to end. After casually tossing aside concrete with rebar sticking out and a large antenna, Azzy wagged her tail furiously and pointed to a small cabinet lying amidst the mess.
Recognizing what it was, I slowly stood up.
“Isn't that a valuables cabinet? Good job finding it.”
“Me, did good?”
“Yeah. Good girl, good girl. You're the best puppy.”
“Woof!”
As I praised her and petted her head, Azzy hopped around the cabinet. I grabbed the handle on its side and pulled with all my might.
But the cabinet, its side deeply dented, wouldn't open, whether because it was securely locked or something was jammed. It seemed to be structurally broken. It wasn't that I lacked strength.
But who was I? An intelligent human. And the defining characteristic of a human is the use of tools.
“First-class, second-class, and third-class. In this case, which class of lever do we need?”
“Woof! Walkies!”
“First-class, you dummy.”
“Woof? Me, not dummy!”
I wedged a steel beam into a gap in the dented frame and pushed down hard.
…It didn't open.
Ahem. But who was I? An intelligent human. When my own strength isn't enough…
“Azzy, can you help me?”
“Woof? Me, not dummy!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Now, doggy punch!”
“Doggy punch?”
“It means I need you to smack this spot with your front paw. Hard.”
“Woof? Like this?”
The moment I saw Azzy raise her paw, I turned and fled. Behind me, her arm became a blur.
CRRRRAAAAASH.
With a deafening roar, the cabinet flew about three meters into the air. The tightly locked door spun away and embedded itself in the ceiling above. The steel beam I had used as a lever fell to the ground, bent into a V-shape. The cabinet, suspended in the air for a moment, crashed back down headfirst.
The doggy punch sure is effective.
“Aww, good girl. You really are the best puppy in the world.”
“Best?”
“Yep. The best.”
“Woof! Me, the best!”
Leaving the proud Azzy behind, I peered inside the cabinet. There were a few crystal orbs that looked like spares and several paper documents. Was that it? A bit disappointing.
Lingering, I cast my gaze one more time into the cabinet's interior and saw a round object shining with a leaden light in the back. It must have been hard to see in the dark. I reached my hand deep inside and pulled it out.
And an involuntary gasp escaped my lips.
“My god. This was still here?”
This… I can use this.