Eleanor’s memories of her mother were faint.
She merely thought, *I suppose it is because Father said she was a good person.* In truth, even the longing was faint.
It was almost laughable that the first memory to come to mind of her mother was her funeral; there was no need to say more.
The sight of her mother inside the coffin being gradually buried in dirt, and the tombstone carved with a cross being struck by raindrops—these remained vivid even now.
Even now, when she thought of her mother, the tombstone came to mind more clearly than her face.
And the sight of her father, having seen off the mourners, embracing that tombstone and weeping.
“Ah... Papa, are you crying?”
Though still young at the time, Eleanor looked at her father’s face as he turned to her and vaguely realized something.
The fact that she was the only one who could comfort him.
Because neither her deceased mother nor the brother who had died as a newborn was by her father’s side.
Her father’s face brightened slightly when he saw the young Eleanor.
Eleanor smiled at her father then. Suppressing her tears, she acted the part of a lively ten-year-old daughter.
Responsibility.
That word was engraved deep in Eleanor’s heart at that very moment.
Even when she first set foot on the unfamiliar American soil last year.
Even when the colony fell into chaos for lack of food.
Even when her father left for England to procure food shortly after Eleanor gave birth to her first child.
...Even when her husband died, struck by an arrow from somewhere.
She never lost that sense of responsibility.
That responsibility drew people to her.
She was only nineteen, and a woman at that, yet people gathered around her. As the daughter of the governor, her father, she made a decision.
“To Croatoan Island! We will wait for Father there! Surely, Father will return, and the friendly savages there will take us in!”
But at the same time, she was only nineteen, and a woman at that.
The people had already lost faith that her father would return.
They left on their own for the lands of the Chesapeake, a friendly tribe. They had judged it better to entrust themselves to friendly locals than to wait for her father’s relief.
Those who remained were a few people who had been close to her father, John White, widows... and her one-year-old daughter, Virginia.
And so, including herself, a total of thirty-four.
Only thirty-four remained out of one hundred and seven.
...No.
Thirty-four had stayed behind based on nothing more than the words of a woman of only nineteen. Thinking so, Eleanor clung to hope within her despair.
And so, in the year 1588.
They set sail for Croatoan Island.
And in the midst of it all, they hit a storm and lost several more.
Thus, the remaining number was thirty-two.
Only thirty-two were able to set foot upon the land of Croatoan Island.
They had no food either.
By some misfortune, they had ended up on the shore where the savages did not live.
“Walk! We cross through the forest to where the savages’ village is! Soon we will all survive!”
She spoke with a forced smile, but... honestly, there was no hope.
It was quite a walk to the village of the natives, and the sick and starving no longer had the strength to make it that far.
Even if they reached it, there was a problem. If they were lucky, they might receive food and shelter while awaiting rescue, but what if some communication problem arose?
Every possibility pointed to a single result.
Death.
Still, Eleanor walked at the very front. She stepped first into the marshes that the men hesitated to enter, and even while carrying a child, she lit fires and told her companions hopeful stories.
And, when they had walked about halfway across the island—
*Thud.*
“U-uurk...”
“Damn it! Mr. Hewett has twisted his ankle! Mr. Hewett, Mr. Hewett...!”
“I-I’m done for... Everyone go on... haha.”
“Eleanor, what shall we do?”
The final moment had come.
One of their party could walk no more.
Virginia, cradled in Eleanor’s arms, now slept all day long. So quietly that she might die at any moment.
One by one, they fell.
Eleanor foresaw death here.
She had watched her good-for-nothing husband die before her very eyes.
Countless companions and friends had left her side as well. Some died, some betrayed her.
They were unbearable times for a girl of only nineteen. Yet they were times she had to endure.
But... this was too much now.
“L-let us camp here for now.”
“Eleanor...?”
“Do not worry. By tomorrow, kind savages... will save us...”
“...”
“...”
Everyone saw through Eleanor’s lie, but no one said a word and collapsed onto the ground where they stood.
This place would be their end.
One, two, they closed their eyes and grew still.
Had they all departed for the Lord’s Kingdom?
Yes... now I too...
*A sob.*
...Time to leave?
“Ah, ahgh... hic...”
I-I’m still only nineteen.
Leading the group, surviving terrible experiences—she had thought she’d grown numb, but now fear, sorrow, and directionless rage welled up within her.
I don’t want to.
I don’t want to die.
And so, scraping her throat, she spoke.
“S-s-sa... ve... me.”
Anyone would do...
Please, please, one more chance.
Lord.
Please.
...
...
...
And then, a miracle arrived.
“Where are you! Where are you!”
Shouting in fluent English, someone came running.
...Into her blurring vision, the silhouette of a person appeared.
A mysterious... yet benevolent-looking man.
He did not seem to be a European... He wore strange clothing that looked sturdily made at a glance.
In one hand he held a large steel sword. Its blade glinted sharply, as if prepared to deliver judgment in the name of justice.
Also, in one hand he held a lantern... no.
The man was holding light in one hand.
It was a pure white light like the sun! Shining it upon the group, he soon opened his mouth and began to speak as if whispering.
“One hundred forty-four thousand... one hundred forty-four thousand...”
(14:3) And they sang as it were a new song before the throne, and before the four beasts, and the elders: and no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth.
Ah.
Aah.
“Everyone is starving... must feed them quickly...”
*Clutch.*
Eleanor grabbed the man’s wrist without realizing it. And with courage she knew not from where it came, she spoke thus.
“A-Angel...”
“...”
“...Take me, or at least my child, to Heaven.”
Desperately.
“Please... to the Lord’s side...”
And so, Eleanor lost consciousness.
***
“One hundred forty-four thousand... one hundred forty-four thousand...”
The money I spent purchasing the limited edition package.
“One, two, three, four... thirty people...”
The number of people starving to death before me right now.
“H-hey! Is everyone alive?”
...They are alive.
They were starved to the point of their skin clinging to their backs, one was a baby, and one even seemed to have a wounded leg, but by some miracle they were all still clinging to life.
“A-Angel... please...”
Th-the woman who had suddenly grabbed my wrist just now still seemed relatively intact.
For now.
In her current state, anyone could see she was on the brink of death.
“Take this and open your ey— ah, how do I feed this to starving people...! For now, at least let it melt in your mouth! Yes? Don’t swallow it, let it melt!”
Since the only food I had was chocolate, I tore open the wrappers and put them one by one into their mouths, and everyone twitched at the sweetness they felt in that instant.
Yes. Hurry and put it in your mouths and let it melt. Melt it slowly and eat. Please survive. Please...!
...*Kuaaaargh!*
‘After paying 144,000 won... after paying 144,000 won, they put people through this shit...?’
I felt like real tears would come out. Only now did I understand the unusually detailed back cover of the game package and those needlessly meaningful phrases in the opening.
—*‘O ye who shall transcend time and be immortal, a new world now calls to thee.’*
You game narrator bastard. Nobody says “New World” these days. Then are the people who originally lived on the “New World” all “New Humans”?
Anyway, I tripped into a failed colony on the American continent, right? And the crazy Elizabethan era at that—meaning 400 years ago!
I’d rather you send me to 21st-century America, even to some hood where kids play with guns and fentanyl is everywhere. I’m asking you to send me back to modern times!
It’s not like a person can survive on grapes alone, and without any great knowledge or helpers, how do I survive...
...Wait.
The game package.
I let the last remaining chocolate milk flow into the mouth of the starving child the young woman was embracing, and thought.
In the lengthy catalog included with the game package, there was information.
Detailed maps of the Roanoke Colony and its surroundings, written “for some reason” in great detail, and explanatory texts about the resources and terrain of each area.
A chronology of historical events of that period, prepared “for some reason” kindly, along with similarly detailed explanatory texts.
If that was for this very moment...
If that information is the path for me to survive from now on...!
I hastily grabbed my flashlight and machete and ran back toward my farm.
Seeing these people twitching, it seemed they had passed the immediate crisis, but they hadn’t eaten proper food. If I’m not going to let them die, I need medicine and food right now.
On top of that... no.
First, I’ll memorize all the contents of the game catalog!
***
“Waiting... for you...”
She had seen an angel.
Just as he had arrived, he disappeared swinging his great blade as he left.
And the sweet fruit he had let flow into her mouth—when she let it melt slowly, strength rose within her body of its own accord.
“Uu, ugh...”
“Mrs. Dare? Are you coming to?”
Eyes that had been closing opened. Stiffening limbs moved again.
Eleanor realized she had walked back from death’s doorstep. The others wore similar expressions.
“O-oh, Eleanor...! I-I saw an angel! He saved us!”
“It wasn’t just me? An angel with a blurred light and a sword put sweet fruit into our mouths...”
“Mrs. Dare? We all lived! We lived! Hahaha!”
“...”
Eleanor Dare still could not fully come to her senses.
Everyone had awoken from the death that had been rushing upon them like a wave, after eating the sweet fruit he had given them.
At first after waking, she had wondered if it was a hallucination, but since the majority of her companions here testified to having seen it together, it was certain.
He was either an angel or, at the very least, a righteous man sent by Almighty God.
“What does it mean that we saw an angel in this place? And one who appeared in the guise of a non-European, no less!
Is it not a sign for us to build a new colony on this land and spread the Gospel to the savages?”
“We are thirty-two people. How can we build a colony here?”
“Why, when Mrs. Dare’s father returns, would not the scattered people gather again?”
“That’s right! Let us build a church right here, till the fields, and with the people...!”
“N-now wait a moment!”
But Eleanor had no choice but to calm the people gathered here.
Whether they had just met an angel or some unknown righteous man, excessive excitement was dangerous.
“The immediate situation has not changed at all. The way to the savages’ village is still long, and one among our party is injured.”
“...”
“...”
Indeed. Someone had to tell the cold truth to people lost in desperate hope.
Had new food appeared? No.
Had the wounded person been miraculously healed? Neither was that the case.
Nothing had changed.
“Huuu... Still, the ‘person’ who helped us was not a European, so he was likely a righteous savage.”
Taking a step back so that religious zeal might not blind the eyes of reason, she assumed a reserved attitude.
“So that righteous savage may soon bring his tribe and come to help us. After all, he already shared food with us for no reason. Then we wouldn’t have to leave Mr. Huet behind, either.”
Even as she said so, Eleanor kept the atmosphere from sinking by infusing them with another form of hope.
The leadership she had gained while overcoming her father’s absence guided her toward the best judgment.
“Th-that’s true!”
“Well, that’s a relief! It means if we wait here, we’ll have some hope one way or another!”
···Yes. I need to cool their heads.
Thinking about it again, it was hard to believe that someone had been an angel. Surely he was a noble of some barbarian tribe in this area, or···
“But he could speak English, couldn’t he?”
“···Pardon?”
“And what was that mysterious clothing, and the mysterious lamp he was holding?”
“···.”
“And above all.”
Talkative Margaret lifted up one of the golden scraps scattered here and there as she spoke.
“No matter how I think about it, I doubt the New World has fruit with such glittering peels. What is this? It seems like cloth, but the outside is gold and the inside is silver···.”
“···.”
···Why is that side more logical?
Come to think of it, how did he really speak English? Did he learn it from some passing Englishman? But the only “passing Englishmen” in this area are us! And besides, he was far too fluent for someone who had only studied for a few years!
Ugh··· My head hurts. In Eleanor’s eyes, the mysterious light of the angel she had seen then still seemed to shimmer.
···No.
No matter what, he can’t be a real angel. Isn’t it absurd for an angel to suddenly appear looking nothing like a European?
What kind of angel··· as if he had truly come out of the Apocalypse···
“···In 1587, the colonists led by John White arrive on Roanoke Island.
In 1588, after the Spanish Armada is defeated by England, John White, who was unable to sail during the war, finally returns to Roanoke in 1590···.”
···What··· uh··· It’s not as if he was warning us about the future···
“And soon after that, Catherine de’ Medici, the French queen mother, dies in 1589. From 1592 to 1593, plague spreads through London··· Ah, Descartes was born in 1596?
Shakespeare was from this period, wasn’t he? Romeo and Juliet comes out in 1597··· Ugh, I don’t need information like this··· Ah, the French Huguenot Wars end in 1598. I should remember that.”
Rustle.
“···Ah, everyone is awake? How are you all feeling?”
···Uh.
The party tried to get up, only to sink back down to the ground.
The “angel” had returned.