"Leon!"
March 7th trotted over and tugged on his sleeve.
"Amnesia, just like me."
She pointed to the old man sitting on a bench over there, seeking help with her steadfast belief that Leon could solve any problem.
"Amnesia?"
Leon understood what she meant and turned his gaze to the old man.
Has she already learned empathy and compassion without me even teaching her? The potential for a person's growth is truly immeasurable.
Since she was the one who asked, Leon had to show her the beauty of overwhelming power. If you have a problem, find Leon, because Leon is omnipotent!
"Do you know him?"
Leon asked Robin, gathering intelligence first.
"I apologize."
Robin frowned slightly. "I have no information about this traveler in my memory."
"If necessary, I can have someone look up his file. Amnesia is no small matter in this dreamscape."
Something was strange.
In Penacony, a space constructed from "Memoria," amnesia was practically equivalent to death. It was a major event, yet she hadn't heard even a whisper about it. This was highly unusual.
Leon nodded. Since there was no intelligence, he might as well try to engage him directly.
"Hey, old timer, what's your name?"
He casually sat down on the bench beside him, speaking in the tone of an old friend.
"A Nameless...?"
The corner of the old man's eye caught the train ticket on his collar. His vision was blurry, so he spoke with uncertainty.
"Hm? You can consider me one, I guess."
Leon glanced at his ticket subconsciously, accepting the identity.
You can never have too many alt accounts, after all.
"But at best, I've only spent some time on the Astral Express. I'm not a true Nameless."
He used to fight in chaotic battles on the Astral Express every day, so tell me if that counts as 'staying' there.
"My actual job is being a Galaxy Ranger."
"Galaxy... Ranger..."
The old man repeated the words softly, as if he'd suddenly remembered something, his eyes widening in an instant.
"A Galaxy Ranger? You're a Galaxy Ranger?!"
The old man recalled the philosophy that those four words represented and immediately placed his trembling hands on Leon's shoulders.
"Uh, what's wrong?"
Leon couldn't understand why he was suddenly so agitated.
What, did some other Ranger run up a debt in Penacony?
"I... I have committed a crime!"
The old man's voice suddenly grew passionate. His dull, turbid eyes, which had lost all hope in life, now held a barely perceptible glimmer of hope as he looked up at him.
"I've killed many people! I... I deserve to die a thousand deaths!"
The old man's breathing became ragged.
"Kill me! Avenge those who died at my hand!"
"Ranger of The Hunt, please, grant me justice! Kill me, erase my existence, along with this forbidden knowledge, I beg you!"
The old man started to kneel but was stopped by Leon in time.
"Seeking death?"
This was the first time Leon had met someone who willingly threw themselves in front of a gun.
It seemed the guilt in his heart was truly heavy.
But what exactly did he do?
"You want me to kill you,"
Leon asked, puzzled.
"But the Galaxy Rangers have their principles."
"Never bully the weak, never kill the innocent."
"This isn't some lofty ideal; it's a bottom line that no human should ever cross."
Leon's intuition didn't sense that this man had crossed that line, and The Hunt within him remained silent. That was enough to show his words were inflated.
"Only when that line is trampled does the vengeance of The Hunt come knocking. You ask me to kill you, but why should I kill you?"
Leon looked at the old man before him.
"I'm not lying! I personally destroyed many civilizations and took the lives and homes of countless people! I'm just an executioner, a butcher who deserves to die!"
The old timer's mental state was deeply concerning. He was in extreme turmoil, like the type to carve their own arms.
"You really did it personally?"
Leon trusted his own intuition more than one man's one-sided account.
"I don't remember clearly..."
"But this one thing I remember most clearly: the weapons I personally created destroyed the lives of so many. I don't dare forget, for fear that forgetting would mean repeating my mistakes."
As the old timer spoke, his eyes gradually filled with tears.
"What were your weapons created for?"
Leon thought that the answer to this question would be the key to why the man did not qualify for vengeance.
"To fight The Destruction... to repel the Antimatter Legion..."
The old man was stunned by the question and only mumbled the answer dazedly after a long pause.
"To maintain peace and prosperity in the galaxy... to become a hero..."
It was as if he himself had almost forgotten the answer.
"Then into whose hands did your weapons ultimately fall?"
The answer was obvious. The vengeance of The Hunt should be directed at the one who misused Pandora's Box, not the one who created it.
If the old man before him, holding a genuine desire to save others, had still personally committed acts of destruction...
Then he would grant his wish and give him a swift end, even if it meant he couldn't move an inch in Penacony afterward.
But unfortunately.
This old timer was an indirect cause of the tragedy, true, but he was definitely not its creator.
The one The Hunt should seek vengeance against, on his behalf, was that creator.
"Your personal stats are too low, old timer."
Leon remarked with some emotion.
So you like to rely on the environment to become a god, huh? Are you still going to try that now?
This is the consequence of having mechanics without the power to back them up.
His talent allowed him to create terrifying weapons, but his own low stats led to his research being easily stolen by others, leaving him with nothing in his hands.
If he could be like Leon, with the power to shatter an entire world with a single punch, none of this would have happened.
"Whose hands did they fall into... whose hands..."
The old timer repeated the phrase, trying to stimulate the memories sleeping deep within his mind.
"The Corporation... the Interastral Peace Corporation..."
His voice was soft at first, but it grew louder, as if certain of the culprit he named.
"The Interastral Peace Corporation, huh?"
It was both surprising and not. If it was the Market Development Department, then it all made sense.
"Haven't you ever thought of revenge? With your intellect, it should be quite easy."
Leon, a die-hard follower of The Hunt, asked.
Being able to create the first galaxy-level weapon meant he could develop a second.
The fact that the Corporation coveted this technology so much meant its power was on a level that no current weapon could surpass.
Putting other things aside, if he built a few more, even if taking the Corporation down with him was unrealistic, blowing a chunk out of it shouldn't be a problem, right?
No matter what, the Corporation wouldn't get away unscathed.
"I have already created one demon... I must never create a second..."
The old timer shook his head in firm refusal. "A person like me should just die, and all the knowledge I possess should be destroyed along with me..."
"You are indeed at fault."
Hearing this, Leon smiled.
"Your fault was being too weak, so weak that you couldn't even grasp the means to resist."
"But that's alright. This is what the Galaxy Rangers are for."
"You don't have the power, but I do."
_______
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