EP.15 Because It Was Needed, the Mother Invented It.
The regressor looked at me askance and spoke.
"If you get a bio-terminal implanted, whether you like it or not, your body becomes bound to the Military Nation. Not only will you be monitored by the Military Nation's every move based on this information, but even other nations will look at you with heavily guarded eyes. In hostile nations like the Empire or the Federation, you might even have surveillance attached to you."
I wondered what nonsense she was spouting now. I, too, replied casually with a slouched posture.
"If you're not someone planning to defect to another country, it's not really a problem."
The regressor glares at me. I glare right back.
It's fine to insult the Military Nation. That country is a pseudo-state that throws even innocent sinners into the Abyss.
But I can't stand it when they insult the bio-terminal I use! I don't use the bio-terminal and clothing packets out of loyalty to the Military Nation, but simply because they're convenient!
"...Besides, a bio-terminal is a vulnerability in itself. A magical device that can affect my entire body. It's no different from the slave brands of the past, only in a different shape."
What? So I'm a slave? My mood suddenly sours.
I'm also someone who wished for the Military Nation's downfall several times a day, and ever since I was locked in Tantalus, cursing the Military Nation became second nature. As a notorious petty criminal in the back alleys, the number of crimes I've committed is several times yours. Fraud, gambling, embezzlement, intimidation, bribery, and so on!
You treat me like a slave of the Military Nation? No, I am the Military Nation's worst petty criminal! The nature of our crimes may be different, but I have far more counts!
Infuriated, I fired back.
"That's going too far. If you argue like that, what in the world is safe? You could look at a tight-fitted suit and claim it's a prison constricting me, or look at a necktie and argue it's no different from a collar around my neck. By that logic, we should reclaim all the fountain pens in the world too. Because the pen is mightier than the sword, you know."
The regressor leaned back against the chair and glared at me piercingly.
A stagnant hostility pricks at me. It is chronic hatred. Loathsome yet unvanishing, a dark shadow that constantly clung to her through thirteen deaths. The grime stained from the Military Nation's shadow still occupied a corner of her heart.
"...Even you shouldn't be unaware of it."
The regressor cast a chilling gaze containing the emotions of several loops. Her heart seemed so cold that it would never burn again.
A chill ran down my spine at that gaze, and I muttered inwardly.
Military Nation. What the hell did you do to get on the regressor's bad side? You should be careful. The world is wide, and somewhere out there, there are always individuals who can stand against a nation. For example, an infinitely regressing regressor.
Please torture people less from now on, and treat them a bit better...
"...The fact that the first thing the Military Nation utilized the bio-terminal for... was torture."
A faint trace, a short and intense flashback. I read the past the regressor recalled with my telepathy. Quite a long time ago, the first loop. The deep-seated memory from that time surfaces.
What could be felt from there was only fragmentary pain.
The only thought in her mind was 'It hurts.' Two words, and nothing more. It was filling the last page pitch-black, like a bad performance art. Along with the ragged scars.
I gulped.
Military Nation, it seems you are already too late.
I need to leave this country as soon as possible, even if it's just a day sooner. Adios. Let's never meet again once we part.
"The bio-terminal is an Aki Avatar forcibly opened from the outside through alchemy and magic. An alter ego of my body. If you force the bio-terminal open and insert a specially crafted toxic substance... Heh, you can keep the senses alive while inflicting only pain. If you run electricity through it, it spreads throughout the whole body in an instant. The steel needle is clearly touching my wrist, yet my toes curl up involuntarily. Keuk. The Military Nation didn't just develop ordinary technology. The fastest and most rapidly developed technologies were those for making weapons and... those for inflicting pain."
Dark emotions surge in. So much so that the vampire forgot what to say, and even the dull Azi perked up his tail and looked around cautiously.
The vampire is silent.
However, it was obvious which way her heart was leaning. If the heart could be expressed as a compass, the vampire's needle was pointing at the regressor.
The regressor recalled the pain and repeated her thoughts in hollow despair.
'Everyone who suffered that torture died. I couldn't endure it either and killed myself. After that day, I always carried poison so I could die without pain at any time. No matter how much I think about it, I can't forgive them. The Military Nation...'
Screwed.
If I had known, I wouldn't have impersonated the instructor. I shouldn't have read such painful memories!
No wonder she threw a knife at me first. I should consider myself lucky to be alive right now.
The regressor clenched her fists. So tightly that she might bleed, to stop her hands from trembling.
"Even so, do you still need the bio-terminal?"
'If this man knows the darkness of the Military Nation and still takes their side. We will clash sooner or later.'
The regressor is gauging me right now. If I act carelessly here, I'll be branded as an 'enemy' and suffer for eons. Because for the regressor, this loop is not the end.
Even if I say I'm not the instructor now, they wouldn't believe me, right?
If so.
I lower my voice. I swap out my pleasant voice, which was about a half-tone higher, in an instant, like changing masks in a face-changing act.
I reset my consciousness amidst the drastic change. I forcibly sever the thread of the conversation with a snap. If a conversation were a living creature, this would be its death. I put up a wall of silence and created a distance, as if asserting that it had nothing to do with what came before.
The end of one conversation, the beginning of the next.
After finishing my preparations, I began a new conversation.
"When the bio-terminal and clothing packets were first created. Such a use was never anticipated."
My voice was calm, as if looking from a far distance, yet containing warmth.
I recited the old tale with as deep a resonance as possible.
"The first person to devise the clothing packet was an old woman with a daughter-in-law. The old woman, who ran a small fabric shop, watched with pity as her clumsy daughter-in-law sewed and did laundry until her hands were chafed. The face of the once lively and bright daughter-in-law was always clouded with worry. However, sewing and washing were duties the daughter-in-law had to bear to help her son continue the family business. The old woman racked her brains for a way to help her daughter-in-law get used to the household chores, but no good solution came to mind. In the meantime, the old woman received a clothing commission from a noble."
Even a steep cliff or a sharp rock fragment is merely a delicate description composing a soft landscape when viewed from afar. Words alone cannot contain all the tears and pain shed during that time.
But even if it only captures a fraction of the emotion, a single story cannot move someone's feelings.
"The noble ordered the most splendid and beautiful dress the old woman could make. Upon hearing the request, the old woman was terrified. For the thing with all sorts of decorations stitched together could by no means be called clothing. The old woman prostrated herself before the noble and answered."
I cannot sew this garment with my skills.
Sew it.
The fabric and thread are tangled and twisted like fighting dogs, so if I sew it like this, it will be impossible to put on and take off.
No problem. Sew it.
There is so much drapery that even the smallest child who knows how to hold a needle cannot wedge through the gaps, so even if the clothes wear out or tear, they cannot be mended.
No problem. Sew it.
All sorts of silks and fabrics of different origins are intricately entangled as if they were one body, so even if they get dirty, they must not touch water, nor can they be wiped clean with a brush dipped in tears.
No problem. Sew it.
Why do you, my lord, desire a garment that cannot be worn again, cannot be mended, and cannot be cleaned?
To use it for one day, just one day. When that day passes, it will be taken off, torn apart, and buried in the ground. Your worries are unnecessary.
That is a monstrosity that cannot be called clothes.
No problem. Sew it.
I continued the Q&A alone as if I had become a storyteller. I wet my burning throat with saliva and continued speaking.
"It was a capricious noble's eccentric order. It was a request that no one in the world could easily accept. She could have ignored it as a quirk, or refused it as unreasonable. But for the old woman who had been racking her brains for her daughter-in-law, it was an inspiration that came like a miracle."
The daughter-in-law, who was clumsy and poor at laundry and sewing. The old woman, who scolded her on the outside, but swallowed her tears secretly when she saw the blood and water blisters stained on her sleeves.
"If you wear clothes for just one day and throw them away, there's no need for laundry or sewing."
Reached the realm of seamless celestial garments.
"It was impossible. It should have been impossible. To sew new clothes every time you wear them, and disassemble them with alchemy instead of taking them off. Does that even make sense? It couldn't have been that easy. It must have been extremely difficult. The old woman probably had to burn the rest of her lifespan. At an age where her eyes were dimming and she considered retiring, she must have picked up the needle again. She had skills close to artistry, but her age was regrettable. Her weak, trembling hands were pricked by needles dozens of times, and unlike in her youth, they didn't heal easily. There wasn't a day her blood dried up."
I spoke only up to there and deliberately stopped breathing. Then, I showed the hole in my body again.
To show what was contained within this tiny hole.
"The essence of the bio-terminal, it is a wound pierced by a needle. The true identity of the clothing packet is the dress made for the daughter-in-law. It's just that the Military Nation made it a little more... Mado-engineered."
The Military Nation created all the bad things in the world.
However, before the bad thing became bad.
It was a much more trivial, yet far more precious heart.
I approached the regressor. At the same time, I unsummoned the clothing packet. As if someone were pulling all the stitches on their body at once, the fibers unraveled thread by thread and gathered into my left hand. Like a silkworm spinning a cocoon, or a spider wrapping its prey. The fine threads went from translucent to opaque, returning to a small bead.
By the time I took a few steps, I was back in my standard-issue shirt and shorts.
Pop, the instructor uniform packet popped out of the bio-terminal. I snatched it and stood in front of the regressor's desk.
"I cannot represent the Military Nation, and Trainee Shay cannot represent all those who have suffered. Nevertheless, I ask for your forgiveness."
It is not what I did. However, since I am also a part of it, I will ask for forgiveness for my share.
With that meaning in mind, I took the regressor's hand. To find the bio-terminal.
The regressor silently watched what I was doing.
"The sins of those who took the world's warmest achievements and forged them in hellfire."
Like that, to the place where the bio-terminal should be, my finger-.
Huh, it's smooth. Let alone a hole, I only feel a thumping pulse.
Baffled, I asked.
"What? You don't have a bio-terminal?"
Why isn't it there? That's strange. The memory of being tortured was so vivid.
Just as I was about to tilt my head in confusion, the regressor panicked and yanked her hand away.
"Ah, no. Wait."
'I was tortured in the 2nd loop, when I was running around knowing nothing... Right now, I didn't get the implant in the first place.'
Ah, right.
She was tortured in a previous loop, right? I got so immersed in the projected thoughts and memories that I forgot for a moment. It was such an intense memory, after all.
Realizing the situation, I stopped talking and looked at the regressor awkwardly. The regressor was also looking at me with difficulty, apparently finding this atmosphere extremely awkward.
Huh. Then I'm the one looking ridiculous.
I read her thoughts arbitrarily, over-empathized, and tried to set the mood. I thought you were tortured. Well, you were tortured. In the previous loop.
In this loop, you came in raising hell instead.
The story suddenly became complicated. The regressor told a lie that couldn't be explained except by regression, and I learned information that couldn't be explained except by telepathy.
What do I do in this situation? What if I'm found out to be a telepath?
After a brief moment of agonizing, I waved my arms and shouted loudly.
"Liar! You made it sound like you were tortured! I thought you were the one who was tortured!"
Get angry instead!
To make it blatantly obvious that I was tricked by the regressor, I stomped my foot loudly and yelled.
"Torture my foot! You don't even have a bio-terminal! Huh? How are you going to put anything in here, on this smooth wrist!"
"T-This is..."
"Did you want to show off that badly? Or are you trying to steal even the painful wound of being tortured? To use it as a medal decorating your life? How shameless! After poverty, to have torture and suffering stolen too!"
"W-Wait! I definitely...!"
"Definitely?"
When I raised my head and interrogated her, the regressor moved her lips with an unjust expression. However, she couldn't even mold her thoughts into words.
'I still... can't tell them that I can regress!'
Of course. A regressor's regression is a secret that must be hidden until the very end.
Then how is she going to explain it? How does she plan to escape this predicament I've driven her into?
The answer was surprisingly simple.
Bang!
The regressor launched her body and ran away. She practically performed an Escape (Physical).
Phew. I didn't expect her to bolt with a method I couldn't counter. She got me there.
[That was a truly fascinating story.]
The vampire, who had quietly listened to the story, approached with a satisfied look, apparently really liking my lesson today.
[It was worth coming out of seclusion for this. However, I have yet to hear the conclusion of the story. So, what happened to that old woman?]
"Ahaha."
[...Why are you laughing?]
"No. I was just wondering why you call her an old woman. She was someone from the modern era, you know. Even if she were still alive today, she wouldn't even be 200 years old. She's much younger than Trainee Tirkanjaka. So please don't call her an old woman, call her a little girl. Wow, my. To think I can treat someone like her as a little girl..."
Bang!
The vampire smashed through the outer wall of the building and left. She ran away.
Phew. Just by running my mouth, I made one woman and one corpse run away. Someone looking at me would be proud.
Anyway, that coffin is made of wood, so how is it intact after smashing through a concrete wall? I feel like common sense has been violated.
"This is property damage... Eh, whatever. Que sera sera."
It's not like I'm the Military Nation's budget department, they can handle it themselves. As long as there's a decent place to sleep, it's fine.
"Now, then..."
I approached Azi, who was dozing off at the back of the classroom. As my footsteps got closer, Azi's tail started wagging first. Then his ears perked up, Azi raised his head, and noticing my approach, he jumped up.
Seeing the drool around his mouth, it seems he realized the charmed dog life again today. Dodging Azi as he tried to wipe his drool on my hand, I spoke.
"Azi. Did you pay attention to the lesson?"
"Woof!"
"Can you tell me what lesson I taught today?"
"Woof!"
"So you're telling me not to expect anything at all?"
"Yeah!"
"...It pisses me off that you only speak human at times like this."
"Mad?"
"Yeah! I'm mad, you mutt! At least try to listen!"
"Mutt?! Woof! Woof!"
Sigh. What am I really going to do with this mutt.
He's extremely docile and follows humans well, but according to what I saw in the regressor's future, this guy also turns into a vicious beast that catches and tears humans apart.
I don't know why that happens, but anyway, that's a future I have to prevent. I thought maybe if I put some common sense into Azi, he might get better.
"I must be crazy. Even the person who made the proverb 'A dog in a schoolhouse for three years will learn to recite poetry' would scold me, saying I don't understand metaphors if they saw me bring a real dog."
As I scratched my head, Azi stretched his upper body and barked fiercely.
"Woof! Woof woof! Woof!"
Azi's gaze was directed at my left wrist.
By any chance? Did he listen to the lesson and figure out what this is?
With a half-doubting mind, I showed my left wrist to Azi.
"Why. Do you remember it by any chance? Right. Look. This is what's called a bio-terminal, and if you plug a clothing packet into it..."
"Ack!"
"Aaaaaaagh!!"
Along with the sensation of sharp, hard fangs digging into the hole in my body.
I simply lost consciousness.