After much deliberation, I reached a conclusion.
If I don't meet anyone, there will be no misunderstandings.
I'll live alone.
I don't want to be disappointed anymore. I don't want to disappoint anyone.
Even if I'm consumed by loneliness, I want to die alone.
As soon as I made that decision, a change came over my body.
"…My body suddenly feels heavy."
My body, heavy as a lump of iron, resembled that of Mr. Lee, a farmer who lived in old Japan.
No. It wasn't a resemblance… It had returned to its original state.
My body was not light enough to scale buildings, nor was it strong enough to fight and defeat demons.
Not only that, but my health would rapidly decline as I entered my early thirties. I, who was fated to a short life, had at some point started living a healthy, strong life.
"The desire to kill someone has also disappeared."
An important part of what made me who I was had broken off.
The Beast. Beast. Evil of Humanity.
Now that it was gone, I could finally understand the true nature of the malignancy that had clung to me.
A power that defies reason. The Beast of Reversal.
"Not the sacrifice of the few for the sake of the many, but the sacrifice of the many for the sake of the few…."
The world is full of the alienated.
Even in a wealthy city full of pleasure and luxury, beggars exist. Not everyone can be rich. If that happened, the very word "rich" would disappear, and the foundation of vested interests would crumble.
It's not just beggars who do not belong to the majority.
Heroes, too, belong to the few.
It may seem surprising, but the title of "Hero" itself is bestowed upon only a select few.
A king possessing the treasures of the world, a yokai who is an avatar of the sun, a leader of the Church, a queen of magecraft….
They inevitably belong to the few. They shine because they are more exceptional than anyone else, and that light can never be hidden in the mud.
No one worries about them. People are blinded by their splendor and wish only to bask in the halo of their abilities.
…I didn't like that.
I, too, once admired heroes, but being a hero wasn't as glamorous as I thought.
They are blinded by their own radiance and cannot rely on anyone.
They must constantly fight against the fate bestowed upon them. That is what a hero is.
Fairy tales depicted this beautifully and wonderfully, but what were their inner selves truly like?
Who comforts their lonely hearts? Where is the sanctuary for their minds?
I pitied them.
I saw my own life, which had been filled with an unusual amount of minor illnesses, overlapping with theirs.
I felt that my own life, unable to last long, was the same as the lives of heroes destined for tragedy.
That is why I wished for there to be at least some solace in their fates.
One day, I had a dream.
I heard the whisper of a demon—someone whose form was indistinct, more a collective of consciousness than a person.
-I'll let you do what you want. You will intervene in the fates of heroes and lead them to a happy ending.
My 20-year-old self. On the night before I started university, I carelessly accepted that being's offer,
The next day. I was hit by a falling flowerpot and run over by the wheels of an ambulance and died.
Everything came flooding back to me.
"My name, my hometown…."
Only now have I been freed from the shackles of fate.
Freed from a fate of repeating eternal resurrection, of being forcibly involved in the lives of disparate heroes.
It was a good thing, but I couldn't smile.
The structure of the world made my expression turn grim.
The Evils of Humanity must exist. There cannot be a vacuum. If a void is created, the next candidate will immediately inherit the malignancy.
I have just stepped down from being the Beast of Reversal. My power is gone, and I have returned to my ordinary self.
I don't know if it was a sort of after-sales service or a courtesy to a former official. In any case, as the former Beast, I was able to identify the next successor.
The Beast of Reversal.
The fool, the idiot who harbors such a foolish malignancy, one that pities the few so much it would destroy itself to protect them, is none other than…
"…Shit."
It was my daughter.
My daughter, whose dimension and timeline I don't even know, will now become a single, lonely Beast, drifting through countless timelines just like me.
A terrible life is destined for her, one where she, like me, gives her heart away too easily, gets hurt, finds comfort… only to be betrayed again.
"Fuck, fuuuuck…!"
I can't let that happen.
I slammed my fists on the floor. It wasn't the floor that cracked, but my own fragile hands.
"No. Give it back. Make me the Beast again!"
The power, once relinquished, did not return.
My empty body ached more than my empty heart.
I am a complete civilian. I've become an insect that cannot even exchange a single blow with the people of the underworld.
"Goddammit! How can this be happening! Give it back. Plunge me back into hell, right now!"
I shouted into the void. My head was burning. I didn't know who I was talking to.
Ah. If I had known this would happen, I should have just died.
If I hadn't given up being the Beast, if I had just ended this life instead, I might have been able to find another way.
It would have been better to just be reborn in a new world, meet no one, live a lonely life, and then just die again.
Does my daughter have to suffer even greater pain than this?
Not even tears would come. I was just empty.
Just. There was nothing.
"…Heh."
I lay sprawled on the hospital room floor. A cockroach in the grass is probably a more useful creature than I am right now.
"Ha… hahaha… hahahaha!"
I can't see anything. My vision blurred.
I couldn't feel my heart beating. I was dying.
Come to think of it, I've lived a long time. Was it 23 years? I've lived long enough.
The years I've lived so far are already three times that of a normal human.
"Alright. Shall I die?"
I took a sturdy rope from the storage room. This should be enough to kill my current self easily.
I stepped onto a chair and made a hole in the ceiling. I tied the rope through the hole and made a small loop.
"The wind feels refreshing. It's a nice day."
I put my neck in the loop.
"If I die this time, I'll really be dead, right? There probably won't be a second time."
I kicked the chair away.
***
"W-Whaaaaaaagh?!"
"Silence, boy. Is this the first time you've seen a corpse?"
"I-It's because I know him! No, this is no time for that! Get him down, now!"
"It seems we are too late... But very well."
Rider cut the knot around the once-living thing's neck and laid him on the floor.
Waver approached the body with a speed comparable to that of a Servant.
"He hasn't been dead for long. Three minutes at most."
"Three minutes, you say… Time enough to embrace a woman, slay an enemy, and even feed Bucephalus."
Rider stroked his beard, observing Waver.
It seemed Waver knew Caster's Master, but since the man was already dead, it was of no interest to him.
As a king, Rider also observed the situation with a cool head.
The order for subjugation had been issued, but the target was dead before it could be carried out.
"It was a good thing we attacked as soon as the sun set, just in case. Two Command Spells are a great prize. A magnificent plunder!"
Rider pondered how he could spin the situation to claim he had defeated the man who was already dead.
Waver, who had been fussing over the body for a while, glared at Rider with an expression that went beyond disbelief to utter bewilderment.
"Shut up, Rider! You're in the way!"
"…Hmm? Did you just tell me to shut up?"
The shadow of the crouching Rider loomed over Waver's entire body.
Waver flinched and took a step back, all his earlier bravado gone.
"Fine spirit. That's what I expect from my Master."
"Th-Then step aside. I'm going to attempt a resuscitation spell."
"However! To insult me, Iskandar, is to insult the countless comrades who fought back-to-back with me on the battlefield! Are you prepared to pay the price with your body?"
Waver nearly fainted at the ferocious voice, one that seemed loud enough to be heard a hundred *li* away. But someone was there to pull him together.
"If you're a Master, then act like one! Do what you have to do right now!"
It was Rin, a little girl with cute, brown twintails.
Rin was so short she didn't even reach Rider's knees, but her spirit was incomparable to Waver's.
"That young lady speaks for me. Well, do not be surprised. I am magnanimous. Just like the brave warriors I fought against."
Rider laughed heartily, saying he was only joking. He roughly ruffled Rin's hair, not caring whether she detested it or not.
"How amusing! I merely picked her up while she was wandering in the woods, but to think she was a magus! And a far more capable one than the boy!"
With his mouth firmly shut, Waver's silence was as good as an affirmation.
"You said you're doing a resuscitation spell. I'll help. Let's do it together."
"Uh… yeah… okay. But, aren't you scared? I'm a little scared…."
"I'm not scared because it's my duty as the head of the house. Yep. There's no other reason."
Rin quickly began to draw a magic circle on the floor.
For some reason, Rin seemed so big to Waver. But he didn't let it show and began to trace the magic circle alongside her.