Nuclear (1)

"Eeeek! Wh-what is happening, I say?!"

The earth violently shook, hurling debris in every direction. Prone on the ground with both hands clamped over her head, Eliana shrieked, her forum-acquired speech tic bursting out in the grip of pure panic.

There hadn't been the slightest sign of an impending explosion, had there?

When she finally raised her bewildered head, what she witnessed was unmistakable.

Gurr-urrrk!

The gigantic tongue of the frog variant beast had been severed cleanly in two.

"Whoa..."

The protective barrier she had assumed utterly impenetrable, and even the beast's steel-like hide—none of it amounted to anything before the sheer force of the blast. Everything was reduced to utter futility.

Whirrrr.

And then, another drone materialized.

Once, twice, and then relentlessly, they kept appearing without end, orbiting around Eliana.

"...Again?"

At first, she wondered if her eyes were deceiving her. But every time one detonated, another manifested in an endless stream, streaking straight toward the variant beast.

Overwhelming sheer numbers with even greater numbers.

KABOOM!

"Just what in the world is going on, I say?!"

Eliana couldn't gather her wits. What sent a visceral chill down her spine, more than anything, was the sheer cold method behind it.

"S-Self-destruction...?"

Any living creature, even a mindless demonic beast, possessed an innate sense of fear. The drones possessed none. They simply flew in and detonated themselves, repeating the cycle without a shred of hesitation.

Gurr-rrk...!

The variant beast was stripped of all options. If it lashed out to prevent the drone from closing the distance, the machine detonated on the spot as though it had been waiting for the blow, spewing scorching heat and blazing fireballs. And if the beast held back its attacks to avoid triggering an explosion...

BOOM!

The drone nosedived straight in and blew itself up right in the monster's face, leaving zero chance to evade.

Even to an emotionless, belligerent predator, this offensive tactic was downright psychotic. Sacrificing one's very existence just to blow up?

Gurr-rk...

Gurr-rrk...

Dread and terror began carving themselves deeply into the eyes of the frog beasts.

Right then, a drone appearing for perhaps the twelfth or thirteenth time darted directly before the variant beast. Not a single subordinate monster dared step forward to intercept it.

GURRR-RRK!!

Howling in terror, the frog variant beast unhinged its massive jaws in a frantic, final struggle. And without batting an eye, the drone casually zipped straight into the gaping maw.

Gurr-rk...?

The creature hadn't even conceived of the possibility that something would willingly dive down its throat.

KABOOOOM!!!

In the very next instant, the variant beast was torn into charred, unrecognizable fragments, raining across the barren earth.

Having cleared the wave, I logged into the Gallery. A ceaseless stream of new posts welcomed my arrival.

"Ah, so they saw everything."

It seemed the live feed the elves had set up recorded the entire spectacle. As I gauged the atmosphere on the forum, Penny looked up at me from beside my chair, her eyes sparkling with unconcealed wonder.

"That was totally, totally, totally amazing!"

"Glad you enjoyed it."

"Yeah! Are we doing any more?"

Penny pointed toward the mountain of drones stacked in the corner of the bunker. I hadn't even gone through a quarter of the stock I'd ordered, but unfortunately, there was no longer any need to deploy them.

"It ended way more anticlimactically than I expected."

Penny was remarkably quick on the uptake. After just a few brief pointers, she had picked up the controls and helped coordinate the strikes right alongside me.

"Aww..."

When I handed a bag of snacks to the pouting girl, her eyes lit right back up as she eagerly took it. Penny understood that the drones were not living beings, but simple inanimate tools. While I couldn't explain the intricacies of electric circuits or mechanical engineering myself, she knew it wasn't magic.

"That makes it even cooler!"

"Hm?"

Science wasn't something you could simply master and cast on a whim like magic. Modern science was the accumulation of data painstakingly gathered across centuries—even millennia. Yet in Penny's eyes, that only made it seem all the more magnificent.

"It isn't magic, yet it's a discipline far superior to magic. And Malphite, you're the only one in the world who can use it, right?"

"Uh... well, I suppose you're not wrong."

No matter how many schematics or blueprints I shared on the Gallery, replicating modern technology was an impossibility for them. I was its sole user, and I would likely remain its sole user forever. Still, having never thought about it in such grandiose terms, the idea left me feeling rather dazed.

It isn't like I invented any of it myself in the first place, though.

Just then, a new Hall of Fame post surfaced on the Gallery.

"Oh, right."

They didn't know the drones were machines, did they?

Thanks to that misconception, all manner of memorial tributes and histrionic, tear-drenched elf laments ran rampant across the board. Every other post featured someone uploading a selfie of themselves dramatically stifling tears or venting their resentful grievances against me.

Even so, I waited another two hours before finally posting an explanation—or something resembling one.

"Well, it's hilarious."

Watching the elves weep uncontrollably while the dwarves and humans recoiled in pure, unadulterated disgust... there was no better dopamine feast, no tastier drama to be found anywhere. Truth be told, I had contemplated leaving it alone for another full day, but...

At this rate, I figured someone might actually get murdered in real life. Before things escalated to a truly catastrophic degree, I reluctantly tucked away my amusement and penned an official notice.

Naturally, I couldn't pass up the chance to rub it in one last time.

Fortunately, the sappy memorial posts died down. In their stead, a lively academic debate naturally erupted among the mages.

Those belonging to the Sensual Magic Tower—which had now grown into the sole dominant institution in Kellierton—displayed the fiercest curiosity. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It made sense, given that their ultimate research objective was breathing vitality into mundane tools by infusing them with mana.

Until now, natural-element spells had always been considered the mainstream of magic. Amidst that orthodoxy, an active debate had ignited over practical magic—specifically regarding the fringe academic discipline known as Magitech.

Soon enough, even regular users who knew nothing of the arcane swarmed the thread, eagerly adding fuel to the fire.

And naturally, I was right there with them—

—Not.

"How the hell should I know?"

Mages swarmed my notifications demanding an explanation, but I completely ignored them. To be blunt, I genuinely had no idea, so there was nothing I could explain even if I wanted to. If an armed burglar broke in right this second, held a blade to my throat, and screamed, "Explain Magitech!", I wouldn't be able to utter a single coherent sentence.

Besides, I had no luxury to pay attention to petty forum discussions at the moment.

"Wait, what on earth is this?"

The brand-new catalog item updated in the system shop posed a far more critical issue.

Nuclear? As in... the nuclear I was thinking of?

Until now, the shop had never sold nuclear weaponry. Yet suddenly, as if on a capricious whim, it had begun listing nuclear arms. It was only natural that my attention gravitated entirely toward it over whatever gossip was trending on the Gallery.

"Why did this show up all of a sudden?"

Not that I had any intention of purchasing one. I couldn't even handle chemical munitions safely; a nuclear weapon operated on an entirely different scale of cataclysm. Most of all, the warning prompt flashing dizzyingly before my eyes gave me serious pause.

"What does it mean, 'exert an influence'?"

I didn't know the specifics, but the warning implied that merely peering into the catalog was hazardous enough to cause trouble.

The abrupt appearance of a nuclear category.

A system notification practically pleading with me not to look.

And an ominous, creeping dread settling over my entire body.

"Well, that means I absolutely have to press it, doesn't it?"

Serving as the Head Moderator of the Otherworld Destruction Gallery had taught me one fundamental truth: if something was truly forbidden, the system would never even make it visible in the first place. If I genuinely wasn't permitted to browse the category, it never would have been added to the shop catalog to begin with.

Unable to contain my burning curiosity, I hit the glowing button.

Naturally, another series of secondary warnings popped up. Yet as the seconds ticked by, nothing happened.

"Huh. Absolutely nothing's going on."

Just as I brushed it off as an overreaction and prepared to examine the nuclear wares—

"Whoa."

An extraordinarily frantic direct message flew in from Felici, who had remained dead quiet until now.