Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Chapter 61
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: S2. Resentment Wished Upon the Stars -4
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After burying the cat's corpse in the front yard, the three of them gathered around the bloodstained box placed in the center.
A chilling warning. A forewarned attack has a way of inducing constant tension. It's the same principle as guerrilla tactics in war, designed to keep the enemy from ever resting.
Thus, the surest method was to track it down and eliminate it first. Bennett glared at the warning letter as he spoke.
"Can you trace the sender?"
[If a little more information comes in. It's still not enough right now. I analyzed the footprints coming and going in front of the mansion, and they were all from different people. They all seemed to have a certain build, too.]
"Putting it together, it's some organization that mentions gods and commands multiple people. It's too obvious, which makes it suspicious instead."
After hearing Niole's analysis, Bennett fell into thought. Beside him, Tara pounded the table repeatedly, venting her rage.
"It's gotta be those Silver Twilight Cult bastards!"
"Don't jump to conclusions. The Silver Twilight Cult has no reason to interfere with the research. Abraham's work—calculating the speed of an approaching cosmic disaster—doesn't conflict with their religion. This religious message could be a smokescreen."
"Then who the hell did it?!"
"Abraham said he was a professor, a scholar. It could be infighting with rival academics. That seems the most likely motive for stealing or sabotaging research."
[But if a rival scholar set this up... would they resort to something this creepy? Even planting surveillance on the mansion. No need to bring up gods, either.]
Niole's point was valid. Bennett nodded in agreement, tying the discussion together before stating his conclusion.
"I won't deny the Silver Twilight Cult is suspicious. But we draw conclusions only after solid evidence. We can't afford mistakes."
As he pronounced "mistakes," Bennett stared steadily at Tara. It was a gaze laced with unease. Niole had an excess of justice, but no real anxiety factors so far. Tara, however, had formed a clear attachment to Abraham.
Yet Bennett's gaze didn't land. Tara was lost in thoughts of whoever had sent that malicious package to Abraham, gnawing at her nails.
"Whoever the bastard is, if I catch 'em, they won't get away easy!"
"...Keep your voice down, Tara."
"Aren't you pissed?!"
"It's not worth getting that worked up over. He's just some guy."
Someone they'd met only four days ago. Bennett swallowed the rest.
Abraham was from another world, after all. Getting attached would only lead to loss. Plus, there were suspicious aspects to Abraham himself. What drove an old man to pursue research while enduring threats like these?
"We need to focus elsewhere. That glowing irregular polyhedron. We have to investigate what it is, what it looks like, and who has it."
[But how?]
"Crazy... The wizard mentioned it in the report. Meaning the wizard somehow got info on the glowing irregular polyhedron. There have to be clues somewhere."
[......]
Niole hugged her knees, deep in thought, then suddenly scribbled on the whiteboard as if struck by inspiration.
[What about the academy—no, the university?]
"University... Miskatonic? Where Abraham's a professor?"
[Yeah. Heard it's a specialist school. Tons of books. If it exists in the world, there should be records. So the Miskatonic University library...]
"Right! We need to protect Abraham for the investigation, yeah? He's a professor! He could take us there!"
Before Niole could finish writing, Tara cut in with shining eyes. Bennett clicked his tongue at her transparent motive.
It was a fork in the road. Continue the search while leaving Tara's emotions as a lingering risk factor, or call it out now. Was it something to fix, something tolerable?
Bennett weighed his options. The mad professor's scheme of sending students to another world under the guise of a class. Safe exploration guaranteed. Goodwill toward the kindhearted Abraham against the sharpening risks.
And the mounting irritation.
Bennett made an impulsive call.
"Or we could just ask Abraham to look into it. He knows plenty, so he'd surely..."
Bang!
Bennett slammed his fist on the table, cutting Tara off. He lowered his voice to a venomous hiss.
"You're missing the key point."
"What...?"
"Our goal isn't protecting Abraham. Depending on the situation, it might actually benefit us if he dies. Risk gone, base secured."
"What? How can you even say... kill Abraham?!"
Clatter.
At Bennett's extreme hypothetical, Tara shot to her feet, glaring daggers. Her chair toppled from the force.
Bennett ground his teeth. He quietly drew his chair back and stood, meeting Tara's glare head-on. He had to achieve his objective. He couldn't sit idly by while childish games jeopardized success.
He raised his voice.
"Listen properly. I didn't say kill him. I said it might be advantageous if he dies situationally. Be aware of it. Don't hesitate when it counts!"
"I can't believe you! After how good Abraham's been to us?!"
Veins bulging in her neck, flames sparking in her eyes.
"He's from another world! This isn't the world you live in! We didn't form this team to stop the bloodbath at the academy?!"
"So otherworlders are disposable?! You think this place is some illusion or fake? Do I have to spell out that life is precious?!"
Parallel lines. And at their end...
"Lives have priorities...!"
"Don't take my family from me...!!"
[Stop it!]
Clatter-!
Niole hurled her chair. It sailed between Bennett and Tara, crashing and rolling noisily across the floor. Only then did they turn to her.
Her whiteboard was covered in erased traces: "don't fight," "how about talking calmly?" and the like.
Niole drew a deep breath, let out a sigh, then wrote.
[I'll take Tara with me, Bennett. Tara. Let's talk tomorrow.]
"...Yeah."
"...."
The situation ended. Niole led Tara upstairs to their room. Bennett clutched his pounding head as he tidied the messy living room.
He shouldn't have raised his voice.
He could have said it more gently. Overlooking it might have been the better choice.
Looking back, Bennett realized he was angry. Gazing at Tara, who could openly bond with others—hating himself for being unable. Truly pathetic.
Far too late to turn back now.
Bennett thunked his forehead against the wall and muttered. A bitter, self-mocking smile pierced his heart like a needle.
"...Who am I?"
Someone who'd do anything to save his sister.
Someone who'd sow chaos and terror at the academy, ultimately driving countless students to death.
A black magician.
Isaac's room. Now Niole and Tara's room.
The furniture slightly rearranged, the bedding folded differently. Isaac's traces were fading bit by bit, the space gradually filling with the two girls' presence.
Tara climbed onto the bed and curled up. Droplets of subdued emotion clung to the tips of her delicate lashes. The melancholic mood lingered.
Niole quietly offered her silence.
Tara stared at one wall and murmured. It felt like a soliloquy, yet also words for Niole.
"...You think I'm weird too, huh?"
[Yeah. I think it's strange. Abraham's a good guy, and I want to help... but you're already treating him like family.]
"...."
[Bennett's words were harsh. He acts like you have to give up everything for one thing sometimes. Still, Tara... you got attached way too fast. Worryingly so.]
Niole gave her a concerned look. Like her warm gaze melting Tara's frozen lips, disjointed words began to trickle out one by one.
"...I have no family. I did... but they're gone. We were so close..."
[I'm listening.]
"Mom and Dad—every morning when our eyes met, they'd look at me with eyes full of joy. The me reflected in their pupils wore the same expression. I still miss that look."
[I bet.]
"Sometimes, I see that sunlight from my parents' eyes in Abraham's gaze. When I get that look, family times come back to me, and I can drown in happiness for a moment..."
[What happened?]
At the question, Tara's eyes trembled wide. She began reliving the past. The memory of resentment, still clinging stickily to her heart like tar.
It happened one warm summer.
#0: Tara's Memory
Tara, the girl from a clothing shop in a small town, wanted just one thing: to live happily with her family. She didn't dream of princess-like luxury or wealth—just an ordinary life like everyone else.
Waking up in the morning, stretching with "let's make today count," smoothing out the hung clothes, eye-catchingly displaying the trendy ones, seeing Dad off to meet the wholesaler.
Guarding the shop until the sun hung on the clocktower's tip, switching with Mom for a walk, returning home at dusk... sharing a warm meal with her parents.
She hoped that routine would last forever.
But misfortune strikes so abruptly.
Summer, when the warm sun beats down on all things, is prime time for bugs and maggots to thrive. Decay and filth flourished actively under the watchful warm rays.
Was it the gravedigger skimping on corpse disposal in the heat? The guards unwilling to patrol back alleys? The beggar who stabbed a neighbor for a hunk of hard bread? The lord ignoring the lower classes?
A plague swept the city.
Many groaned in agony, and Tara's parents couldn't escape it either. Blue spots bloomed across their bodies as they withered away day by day.
For some reason, Tara didn't catch it. She ran everywhere to save her mom and dad. First, to the priests.
The temple overflowed with desperate pleas for salvation. Tara was among the throng.
The rich and powerful got treatment, but the rest were turned away at the door. Tara was chased off.
Next, alchemists, then wizards.
But the answers were all negative. "Unknown disease, takes time." "Plague won't reach the magic tower—not my problem."
No matter her desperate efforts, no solution. Tara could only watch her parents fade. Then, a miracle occurred.
The clothing shop girl Tara was chosen as a saintess candidate.
Hope to save her family dawned.
The priests who came to her home heard her plea: she'd become saintess, devote her life to the goddess, but grant one wish. Save her family.
They replied:
"If the saintess candidate becomes the formal saintess, your family will duly be honored."
She was overjoyed. Her heart pounded at the thought of saving them. Becoming saintess meant no more living together... but they'd be healthy, meet occasionally, share warm glances.
Tara obeyed every instruction. The long ritual to become saintess began. She rode a lavishly decorated carriage to the main temple. Washed in holy water for a week, crammed scriptures into her head.
Ate delicious food, hair oiled, priestesses meticulously filed her nails. Anxious Tara asked when she'd become saintess, if all this was necessary.
"Ancient tradition. Must be upheld."
She grew anxious. A whole month passed. Were her family okay? Priests said they'd care for them, so yes. Because...
The priests who'd snubbed shop girl Tara served saintess Tara with devotion. Blooming smiles, seeking her blessings.
Remembering their condescending gazes made her nauseous, but it gave her certainty.
The title of saintess held the authority to flip their attitudes like a pancake.
So.
No way they'd mistreat them. Saintess's family. Unless possessed or something, utmost care was natural.
They're fine. Definitely.
She repeated it. Her face paled, eyes hollowed with worry. But the priests, drunk on their faith, simply rejoiced and thrilled at the saintess's birth.
As the cult's fervor swelled, Tara withered.
The interminable pomp finally ended. Amid golden petals and cheers from the masses, she received the sacred tiara. Officially recognized as saintess by the cult.
Triumphal return.
Wealth and honor beyond dreams in hand, now time to share with family. Eat delicious together, call priests galore since saintess kin—if sick. Credit parents for her sainthood, bestow honor...
So much she wanted to do, give.
Shop girl Tara returned as saintess Tara to her family.
Her family had died suffering from the plague.
Saintess Tara broke.
Finishing her short tale, Tara muttered in a parched voice.
"The cult didn't grant my one request. Save my family. Not gold or glory—just that one thing..."
[....]
"That plague was curable with holy power. While those priests came yelling I had to go to the main temple... one spell, and my family would've lived."
Anger lurked in Tara's eyes, but her tone was flat. As if too exhausted for rage.
"Holy power proves closeness to the goddess. They held back to fully savor the saintess's birth with her—for religious ecstasy. Thinking 'someone else will step in'..."
Captivated by their faith. For their religious high, nothing else mattered.
Thus, she still harbored resentment.
Toward the priests who neglected her family in their religious trance. Toward their words.
"Born commoner, enjoyed dramatic rise—be grateful."
"God pities you—how reject with mere human emotion?"
"Might as well go with the flow now. Past can't return, inevitable."
She resented them bitterly. And the resentment spread like wildfire—to herself too.
Should've ignored, run to family? Why trusted priests? If one had cared... She luxuriated a month—what agony did Mom and Dad endure?
Defying cult rules was her conscience's utmost rebellion. And she knew it was futile.
"I know. This won't bring Mom and Dad back..."
Tara pounded the bed with her fists. Again and again. Finally spilling her longing for family.
"But... even in another world, just briefly... I can recall those happy times..."
[....]
Niole wordlessly patted Tara's back. Tara clung to her and cried.
In Niole's eyes, a faint pattern glimmered briefly, then vanished.
That night passed quietly, punctuated by occasional sniffles.
Bennett couldn't sleep. Was it the sobs he overheard passing the hall? Or the turmoil sprouting in his heart? Suddenly, he thought of the night sky. He climbed the trapdoor stairs to the roof.
Abraham, counting stars, turned.
"Who's there? Ah, you."
"...."
Bennett averted his gaze.
Perhaps lingering guilt. Even without the man present, even to remind of the goal.
Saying aloud it might be better if Abraham died—it pricked Bennett's conscience. The old man had treated them with pure kindness.
The old man stroked his beard a few times, then spoke quietly.
"Tara and Niole haven't come out of their room. Something happen?"
"...We fought."
"Won't pry. But you look like you could use a change of pace. Care to sit?"
"...Yes."
Bennett dragged over a round chair and sat beside Abraham. A cool breeze blew, stars twinkled beautifully. Yet the sky seemed unusually drab—likely his mindset.
Abraham gazed through the telescope, letting silence speak. Like dangling a baited line in the sea, silence was prime for drawing out talk. In the quiet, Bennett suddenly asked.
"Saw the package."
"Rare for youth to heed an old man's advice. I get it. Since you saw... what'd you think?"
"...Why keep researching? Threats won't stop there. Not for money either."
"Curious why this old coot risks his neck?"
Abraham chuckled heartily. He pulled away from the telescope, turning to face Bennett squarely. Rubbing his wrinkled hands briskly, gathering his thoughts.
"Not stubborn clinging in my final days. Still wanna live long. Much left undone, haven't reconciled with my daughter yet."
"Then quit all the more."
"But see, this research will definitely help humanity. Even worst outcome... buys prep time. If lucky with billions of years reprieve, it'll clue us into the universe's secrets."
"...That humanity's the one threatening you. Sending cat corpses."
To Bennett, the world brimmed with malice.
Killing others for personal goals happened countless times— as many as stars in that night sky. He himself was one such baleful star.
In this harsh world, living for oneself was enough. Why bother for others? At that, Abraham bared his teeth in a grin.
"I know. People are shit. Like flies shitting eggs on any corpse without a care."
"...."
The harsh words from kindly Abraham momentarily stunned Bennett. The old man chuckled on.
"Lived long, met plenty. Know most live shortsightedly, stab without qualm. But if we all fling shit back... just more miserable souls, eh? That's math—gains and losses. And..."
"...."
"Big contribution to humanity's leap? Sounds cool, doesn't it?"
"Cool...?"
"Yeah. Every scholar's dream. Saving the world with your theory. Been mine since childhood."
Bennett eyed him, thinking joke. But Abraham's eyes were honest, transparent. Sparkling like a dreaming boy's. Childish, sure...
Bennett felt he got it, somehow.
Like every boy, he'd dreamed of being a hero young. Sword at side, vanquish villains, rescue princess.
Swept by time, chipped by circumstance—fragments of that pure era glinted in the old man's eyes.
Dreams.
His purpose remained unchanged. Anything for his little sister. Even if it hurt many at the academy. But...
If a chance came.
If the glowing irregular polyhedron offered a path without harm. Maybe... he'd want to try it. Bennett thought so. His shoulders felt a bit lighter.
With a slightly eased heart, Bennett conversed with Abraham. The old man gladly joined in. Talk flowed back and forth.
Thus the night waned.
Morning, in the hall. Bennett ran into Tara. Awkward silence flowed between them. Niole, trailing behind, pondered what to hurl if they fought again.
After a brief standoff, Bennett spoke first.
"My words were extreme. Sorry, Tara."
"...You eat something bad?"
Bennett took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, then spoke.
"My stance hasn't changed. If sacrifice is needed, I'll pick Abraham over you guys. So..."
"...."
"Let's make sure it doesn't come to that. That work?"
"...Yeah, fine."
Bennett extended his hand; Tara took it. At this landmark reconciliation, Niole gave a standing ovation. Now she could relax a bit.
That morning's breakfast table brimmed with harmony. Bennett seemed a step more relaxed, chatting freely with Abraham. Tara enjoyed the vibe too. From afar, they looked like a cozy family.
"Time you did some dishes? Niole and I been alternating."
"I use two plates; you use three. To be fair..."
Then.
Creak. The mansion door opened.
Click-clack. Heel strikes. A woman in a pure white dress, white hair swaying, entered.
Her attire, or perhaps her eyes gazing into some distant realm— she exuded an otherworldly mystique.
Abraham's eyes widened unprecedentedly, mouth agape.
"...Isaac."
"Family's grown while I was away, Father."
Abraham's daughter, Isaac, had returned.
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