9. Watch Your Own Death! (4)

The experiment log tossed out its merciless content in a dry tone.

'Fucking terrifying...'

Forcing a choice between punishment or risking your life on an expedition—this company treated lives like flies even back then.

If the company deemed it "right," I could end up the same way anytime.

I couldn't even think about job hunting.

This insane company was the safest place right now.

'Once I get out of here, time for some self-improvement. Gotta become essential personnel.'

I ignored the goosebumps prickling my skin and kept reading the log.

'...His own death future?'

That means...

The fourth keyword.

The future shown by the video that kills after three views is the subject's 'death'.

'So that's the future you can see...!'

I shuddered violently.

Then what I was about to see from now on was my death!

'In a place like this...'

And that meant.

No matter what this anomaly was, I was fated to die here.

'Die.'

Despair crushed my shoulders.

Is this really the end? For real?

...No.

No.

'Team Leader Ham clearly said it's a video that kills after three views.'

The fifth keyword.

'It doesn't mean certain death.'

The death shown in this future can be 'avoided.'

'...How?'

The answer would be in the documents, like always.

Nothing more to glean from Experiment Log 1.

Fortunately, the documents didn't end there.

'...More.'

The experiment logs continued to 43.

What I gained was a churning stomach and some creatively grotesque answers to how people could die.

Yes.

It was a brutal, wretched, horrific record—written in blood.

After reading them all, my lips were parched.

All those deaths were dry, mere records—text, ink drops at most.

The fifty-three lives sacrificed to the three-view death video meant that little.

'...No. Don't get sentimental. They're not people I knew.'

Stay cold. Organize what I've learned.

Yeah, do some office work.

'First off, the situation's improved.'

The documents contained an escape method.

The clue came from the comment at the end.

Cold joke or harsh reality—behind those words followed incomprehensible terms like cognitive hazards, infections across all networks except the company intranet.

The escape method came next.

All keywords converged.

I had to witness my own death.

...What a thing to desperately want to know.

Climbing mountains at night, wandering anomalies willy-nilly, entering sketchy ruins, stalking death like a starving predator... and so on.

I was topping the charts on the dumbest shit humans could do, updating my rank by the hour.

Utter madness. Company work must've broken me bad.

'Ah, damn...'

And what I was doing now was the dumbest, most reckless of all.

I was doing absolutely nothing.

'Bored as hell.'

The reason was simple. I had to witness my death. That meant:

Another me was in here.

'Future me.'

No idea how far in the future, but he was here.

'And he'll arrive here. Got the Clairvoyance Cartographer, after all.'

And then...

I couldn't bear to think further. Foreseeing someone's death is horrific.

Especially your own.

'Anyway.'

That was why I was slacking.

Unfortunately, it might take a while to convince myself it was rational.

Whooo— ooo— ooo—.

Wind blowing in. The suit was high quality. Decent insulation.

Liked that, but even more that it didn't snag lying in this dust pit.

If this were a banquet hall—or at least a company office—instead of anomaly ruins, it'd be perfect.

How much time passed?

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"...!"

"...?"

Voices from outside the door.

Finally. I got up, moved to the room's corner.

'Won't be seen unless touched.'

Those who enter the three-view death video are invisible to others, and 'never' make contact.

Emphasized repeatedly in the logs.

No reason given, but the company wouldn't stress 'never' for nothing.

Held my breath. Flattened myself. Voices grew closer by the second.

Yes. The 'voices' were approaching. Blatantly weird.

'Was I the type to mutter to myself like this?'

...Dare I speculate, future me might not be sane.

And viewing it with a sound mind, that speculation felt like bleak, tragic comedy.

'But multiple voices. Voice mimicry...'

Wait.

'...No way!'

Of course! I don't mutter alone in anomalies unless there's a rule for it!

Mimicry same deal. Why would I in here!

And assuming I've gone mad is wrong too.

Our company's work doesn't tolerate mental fragility.

Therefore...

'Someone else is here besides me!'

With that thought, the ruin's door opened.

Three people entered. One was me; the other two, suit-wearing man and woman.

Both had that newbie awkwardness with suits.

Social freshmen, probably.

"Okay, will you tell us now? What the hell's happening here?"

The male newbie muttered. Future me replied.

"Just business as usual. You'll get used to it if you want a future here."

His face, reciting dryly, was shockingly young.

People change fast. A year, half-year reshapes impressions.

But he was me. No changes, even squinting.

In other words...

Exactly as in the mirror this morning ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while washing up.

My death was closer than I thought.

The shocking truth blanked my mind.

And the next instant, something worse happened.

"Even right this moment. And... didn't I tell you? Noise is dangerous."

Future me intoned with my unchanged face.

"So shut your trap."

...Correction. There was a change.

"Or at least lower the volume. Before I hit mute. Got it?"

The 'me' who snapped at the man drew a pistol from his coat, aimed it.

Looks like near-future me would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be tougher than I'd imagined.