Chapter 140 - The Latecomer (2)

Silence fell.

“Wh-what...?”

There was no one else around. We were near the section the Librarian had called the forbidden books. There were only the three of us, and no eyes watching us. That made the Librarian’s groan ring out all the louder.

“What a cruel thing to do.”

The Librarian covered his mouth with his sleeve.

“Death King, do you understand what you are saying? The Heaven-Slaying Star died at the school in that world. No, even that is insufficient. That world left the Heaven-Slaying Star to die. He was abandoned! To cast him into that world again and tell him to recover [Kim Yul]’s memories—how, how very...”

The Librarian failed to finish not because his voice had dissolved into groans, but because I let go of the director’s hand and seized his wrist instead. His sleeve slipped down, revealing his uncovered face.

“How very...”

The Librarian was grinning.

“Cruel it is...?”

“Yes, it’s cruel.”

I looked down at him impassively. His cheeks were already flushed, as though he were imagining the stage I had proposed.

“But that’s your favoritism talking. Do you know what’s truly cruel? The people who lived in the world of [Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon]. The common folk. The human beings who had to become corpses without even knowing why, because the Heaven-Slaying Star killed their constellation. What happened to them was truly cruel.”

“Ahem, hmm. Hmmm. Well, you do have a point...”

The Librarian’s eyes half closed.

“So you intend to restore all his memories, come what may?”

“If they’re something I can restore, of course.”

“Will you make him apologize to the countless victims of [Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon]? Do you have any idea how many constellations the Heaven-Slaying Star has slaughtered? Will you make him beg forgiveness from every last person who lived in those worlds, every last person who died?”

“Yes. At least from the people of the world I’ve taken responsibility for.”

“Death King...”

The Librarian’s breathing was rapid.

“What a lovely way you have of describing the road to hell...!”

The constellation seemed to be observing the etiquette of a devil foretelling destruction.

“Favoritism is only natural. Ah, I know how one human who chose a path like yours met their end. And knowing it fills me with boundless sorrow. That person... No, revealing that would violate the agreement.”

“Sorry to spoil your fun while you’re enjoying the story so much.”

I released his wrist and spoke quietly.

“Just open the book.”

The Librarian chuckled.

“Gladly.”

He opened [Tales of the City of Heavenly Ascent].

“The trauma you dreamed was only an illusory world, after all. A world artificially created and temporarily sustained. Even if you alter its ending, it cannot become part of the main history. If anything, it is a side story. In truth, I have never savored such a delicacy myself, so I do not know how it will be handled as a stage.”

Black smoke flowed from the book.

Yes. Black smoke.

Until now, white light had spilled out whenever an apocalypse was opened. This time was different. Pitch-black smoke rose, writhing ominously like the tentacles of the void that had swallowed the nightmare.

“Oh? Oho?”

The sight surprised the Librarian a little. He seemed to have realized something.

“This is the shadow of Zrakua’s demigod... Aha, I see. I see! I did think recreating an entire world from trauma was an excessive power, even for a golden contract, but now I see! Someone truly exalted intervened in person. To favor the Death King so greatly. There will be many consumed by jealousy...”

Favor me?

Who?

[The Shut-In Librarian attempts to negotiate.]

As I wondered, the Librarian murmured as though conversing with someone.

“Ahem. In that case, it will be... difficult for me to peep at this attempt to clear the stage. That world has already become the master’s domain. Goodness. Then at least leave a record in the apocalypse once the stage is cleared.”

The black smoke writhed.

“Very well! You are someone who listens to reason, after all. Our lovely clown...”

The Librarian grinned.

He stroked the black smoke as though doting on a pet.

“Death King, Heaven-Slaying Star, and the Death King’s caregiver. I designate these three as new characters in [Tales of the City of Heavenly Ascent—Side Story]. When you open your eyes, you will find yourselves in the world before the [Side Story] met its unfortunate discontinuation. But take care. Especially you, Death King.”

The Librarian wound a black tentacle around his long finger.

“You have caught the attention of someone in high places.”

“... What do you mean?”

“The Tower remembers everything. I merely glimpse your past by reading what is written in a book, but the Tower remembers you in the truest sense. Naturally, it also remembers that you used a [loophole] to reach the fiftieth floor.”

“...”

“You violated the Tower’s strict rules, so you must suffer some measure of penalty. The Tower asks you this: Do you truly, genuinely trust your caregiver and the Heaven-Slaying Star?”

The black mist coiled around the Librarian’s finger writhed.

“Do you believe your caregiver will not crumble beneath her guilt? The Heaven-Slaying Star may become consumed by vengeance and refuse to forgive even her. Perhaps no one will be forgiven, and no one will be able to forgive. Do you truly believe those two...”

The Librarian glanced at the Heaven-Slaying Star and the director.

“Can reach an ending different from the main history?”

“...”

It was an ominous question.

But it was also a question whose answer was already decided.

[“I’m sorry, Class President.”]

I had memories of Kim Yul and the class president.

[“I didn’t mean to hurt someone like you.”]

The Kim Yul I had seen was an extraordinarily strong person.

Even in that hell of beasts, he had cared for the little ones in the animal pen.

[“There was someone. I thought there wasn’t a single person.”]

More than the Heaven-Slaying Star who had killed countless constellations...

[“I’m glad there’s at least one person I can forgive.”]

Kim Yul, who had met the director, was stronger as a human being.

He was strong beyond belief.

And so was the director. She had survived even in a world without Kim Yul.

“Yes.”

Those two had despaired only because they met each other too late.

I believed in the breaths and voices they had shared on the rooftop that day.

That had been real.

Not every illusion was a falsehood.

I said,

“I believe in those two human beings.”

The Librarian smiled.

“You pitiful beasts.”

The mist coiled around his finger melted away.

WHOOSH!

It spread in an instant, swallowing the Heaven-Slaying Star, the director, and me.

“Then prove it.”

Just before everything went pitch-black, I saw the Librarian’s smiling face.

“Though you will not be the one doing the proving.”

The world turned black.

[A severe penalty is imposed on you.]

[You will be placed in the world one year earlier than the other participants.]

[You will be deeply immersed in your character from the starting point.]

I heard a voice.

[Your current immersion rate is 95%.]

The nightmare began.

3

‘A penalty.’

The moment I opened my eyes...

‘An immersion rate of no less than ninety-five percent.’

I sprang into action.

‘There’s no time to hesitate. None. Even a little time will push my immersion rate to a hundred percent. I have to finish all the preparations before then.’

It was easy to resent being given such a cruel penalty.

It was easy to rage that I alone had been dropped into this world a whole year early.

But what would that change?

I couldn’t waste precious time on resentment and anger.

‘In the end, I’m forcing the past the Heaven-Slaying Star discarded back into his hands.’

So I, too, would have to steel myself to receive unwanted memories.

Even if they were the nauseating memories of a perpetrator.

‘Simply returning Kim Yul’s past to the Heaven-Slaying Star isn’t enough. I have to make Kim Yul feel that he [wants to live again]. The director will do whatever she can, but...’

I assessed the situation coldly.

‘The director alone won’t be enough. Right. Unlike her future self, the director of this time is still just an ordinary high school student. What one high school student can do is far too limited.’

Before the perpetrator’s identity ate away at me completely...

‘Revenge.’

I would do what I could.

‘So the director and Kim Yul can get revenge on those worthless fucking animals.’

I moved.

[Your current immersion rate is 95%.]

When I had witnessed the end of the trauma last time, I had regretted it, however belatedly.

I had lamented it.

I could have done a little better, but I hadn’t.

Perhaps I had been too bewildered. Despite getting the chance to inhabit the perpetrator, I had missed the things I could do as him—the things I could do precisely because I was him.

‘Create evidence of the violence.’

That was [something only I could do].

I would leave physical evidence.

“Everyone, attention.”

The classroom.

“Bow to the teacher.”

Apparently, the director had been class president in her first year, too. Did students who became class president keep the position? It was not the Black Dragon leader’s face there, but the director’s young face.

‘One year left.’

Unlike me, the director had not yet possessed her character.

‘Kim Yul, too.’

Kim Yul had been in the same class from the first year as well. Just as before, he had been exiled to the window seat in the back row. What should have been the best seat had become a kind of forbidden zone because it made him easy to bully in secret.

TAP.

TAP.

When the teacher turned toward the board, the students packed eraser crumbs into tight little balls. They broke pencil leads into short pieces and stuck them into those balls, making them look like curled-up hedgehogs. The students secretly threw the balls bristling with pencil leads at Kim Yul.

“Pfft.”

“Heh...”

Kim Yul flinched slightly each time an eraser ball struck him. He tried hard to ignore it, but the pencil leads left the back of his neck red. There were all sorts of ways for young beasts to enjoy their malice.

‘One year.’

I endured it.

‘This is decades in the past.’

Society was worse than when I had been a child. Far worse.

‘To prove the violence, I need physical evidence. If it’s treated as a one-off incident, the punishment will be light. I have to prove it was carried out insidiously, deliberately, and with utter malice over a long period.’

There was only one way to fuck those beasts over.

Become every bit as ruthless as a beast myself.

“Hey, you guys. Look over here.”

“Huh?”

CLICK!

I photographed scenes of violence. This was a time when phone cameras had abysmal image quality. I bought a digital camera to take photographs and a camcorder to record videos.

“Uh, sir.”

One of the younger middle school students looked worried.

He was the boy the Moonshadow Demon Lord, one of the Four Demon Lords, had possessed in the previous trauma.

“Is it okay to film this stuff?”

“Don’t worry. I’m only going to share it with a few people before deleting it. Hey, I’m bored. Introduce yourself.”

“Huh? Uh, my name is...”

I recorded things every single day.

There was no end to the offenses I and those around me committed. Smoking counted as an innocent little prank. I frequently picked on students other than Kim Yul, and even enjoyed tormenting one middle school student.

‘Crazy bastards.’

Was this normal?

Was this happening at other schools, too?

If so—if this was happening at every elementary school, middle school, and high school built in this land—why on earth did no one stop it? Why did everyone remain silent?

How could they remain silent?

“...”

Kim Yul looked toward me as he lay on the ground. Behind the school, my gang and I had ambushed him while he was caring for the rabbits and chickens in the animal pen. We sneered at him for looking after the little ones, calling it [hick behavior].

“I wondered where his stink came from. Turns out it’s shit.”

“Why raise chickens? For the eggs? Want me to buy you some eggs?”

“...”

Kim Yul did not say a word in reply.

He simply stared at me as I recorded him with the camcorder.

His pitch-black eyes appeared on its tiny screen.

[Your current immersion rate is 95%.]

A day.

[Your current immersion rate is 96%.]

A day.

[Your current immersion rate is 97%.]

The hellish records piled up.

‘It’s dangerous now.’

I felt I had reached my limit eleven months in.

‘I don’t know when my immersion will cross into ninety-nine percent.’

My mind was already mush.

At some point, I had stopped feeling anger when filming Kim Yul being beaten. I felt no guilt.

Only sly mockery and spur-of-the-moment pleasure remained.

‘My part ends here.’

I lifted a cardboard box.

103 audio recordings.

311 videos.

30,790 photographs.

My phone and Kim Yul’s, containing the text messages. Two phones.

Every recording, video, and photograph had its exact date and location recorded. They were records of time no one could deny. [I regret my past mistakes], or [I never intended any harm]—there wasn’t so much as a pinhole through which lies like those could slip.

‘Director.’

I set the box outside the home where her family lived. In her youth, the director had lived in a low-rise apartment building. I rang the doorbell and hid.

She came out.

“... Huh?”

The director, not yet possessed by her future self, looked around, tilting her head.

“Who is it? Who...?”

She paused at the sight of the box.

An A4 sheet I had printed was attached to the top.

+

I am sending you all the evidence.

Please decide how to use it yourself.

If you choose to act, please wait thirty days before doing so.

+

“...”

The director had already been cautious in her youth. Instead of immediately taking the box inside, she fetched a utility knife and cut it open. Then she slowly checked its contents.

“...”

Her face hardened.

She looked around once more.

Then, without letting down her guard for a moment, she quietly, carefully took the box inside.

THUD.

The door closed.

‘Ah.’

At last, I felt relieved.

‘I held out.’

For the first time since falling into this world, I let out a breath.

‘It’s done. It’s done. I held out. It’s all right now. I did it.’

On my way home, I looked up at the dark night sky.

‘I’ve done everything I can. Could I have done something else? Was there a slightly better way? Will the days to come truly be worth more than the violence I could have prevented over these past eleven months?’

[Your current immersion rate is 98%.]

‘I don’t know.’

I lay down in bed.

‘I don’t know, but I didn’t give up just because I didn’t know. Yes, this must be right. If anyone can change this world’s ending, if anyone has the right to change it, it’s Kim Yul. It’s the director. I’ll leave everything to them. It isn’t my part to play...’

I...

[Your current immersion rate is 99%.]

Brought my hands together.

‘The villain merely disappears.’

As though praying.

‘The role I’ve been given in this world is only to wait.’

I closed my eyes.

‘I’ll wait. Kim Yul, Director. Please.’

.

.

.

[Your current immersion rate is 100%.]