[798] Complex (3)
As soon as he stepped into the waiting room, the sequence of events he had already experienced began to unfold in order.
"Sorry, it's my fault. I was talking with Rangi yesterday and your name came up…."
Beron's prediction had been right.
'He's repeating it exactly, word for word.'
Humans could not change the future.
The cogwheels of the Law that ran this world were meshed that precisely.
'Actually even the nuance of words is set by the Law. I understand why Woorin sees Havitz as dangerous.'
If it were chaos, reactions would differ every time.
'What do I do now?'
Rangi approached.
"I felt like I needed you here to feel safe. I told the truth."
Shirone nodded and walked toward Miss Yakma, the elf Laura.
"Hello?"
He intended to gauge her reaction first.
Laura turned her face with an expressionless look.
'Of course. She must be hypnotized.'
Thinking of the terrorist and the horrific murders she had committed made his blood run cold.
"Twenty minutes until the tournament."
No sooner had the official spoken than a murderous aura radiated from Laura, leaving no time to attempt anything.
'Damn!'
Just greeting her had been enough to trigger an unauthorized rite—the terrorist's psychology was that extreme and fragile.
'I have to kill her!'
He drew upon the state of Yahweh and cast Wind Cutter; Laura's head was severed and a fountain of blood spurted out.
"Aaaah!"
The participants screamed, and the ponies in the unexpected chaos looked dumbfounded.
"What the hell are you doing!"
Shirone examined Laura's face.
"Gak!"
The moment the hypnosis broke she made a shocked expression, stuck out her tongue, and died.
'He killed the host body. That one-armed monk's work, huh.'
Mortasinger, who had already been baptized by Time Vibration once, had taken out insurance.
'If you kill me, I'll kill the hostage—that's the declaration. This makes it impossible to act.'
He would have to rewind time.
'The method of gauging reaction won't work. I'll have to approach this differently…'
At that moment the door burst open and the guards rushed in.
"What—what is going on?"
Justin's eyes widened; Marsha looked at Shirone as if she couldn't understand.
"Did you kill her?"
Shirone offered no excuses.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Maybe he should ask Marsha for help?
'Not yet.'
Like the one-second repetition the Wigo terrorist endured, Time Vibration could shake even other people's time.
'That's resonance.'
But this time he wanted to be alone.
'If I resonate Marsha's timeline…'
He and Marsha would be trapped together in an endless loop of time until the desired result appeared.
'Ten, a hundred times I might endure.'
But a thousand, ten thousand times?
'He'd go mad eventually.'
A life of repeating the same hour tens of thousands of times was unbearable unless one was an Infinite Mage.
"I can't tell you right now."
As participants hurriedly covered themselves, the guards seized and dragged Shirone out.
With twenty minutes remaining, the tournament was canceled.
"Tell me! Just what the hell is going on!"
Sitting in the empty stands, Shirone counted time in his head without answering.
'Five minutes, thirty-nine seconds. Thirty-eight. Thirty-seven.'
They couldn't detain the star of the Ivory Tower, but the guards still surrounded him.
"Now I'll do this properly."
Realizing the moment had come, Shirone lifted his head.
"What do you mean by 'properly'?"
This was plus thirty minutes.
"See you again, sister."
The moment he finished speaking, the timeline snapped and began flowing backward toward minus thirty minutes.
"Ugh! Damn it!"
The timeline's fluctuation made his head spin, but Shirone no longer collapsed.
'Entrance to the arena.'
It was thirty minutes before the attack.
'The one-armed monk will be near the waiting room. The terrorist kills the hostage the instant the terrorist dies.'
If it was to a degree undetectable even by the state of Yahweh, it would be almost nothing at all.
'Therefore, if I don't kill the terrorist, the one-armed monk might not get external information either.'
Shirone ran toward the waiting room.
'The boundary between the terrorist and Miss Yakma. If I can cut exactly at that point, I can save the hostage.'
Deciding that, he opened the door and the participants set off paper confetti.
"Surprise!"
Ignoring everyone, Shirone dashed in and slashed Wind Cutter beneath Laura's neck.
"Gak!"
The terrorist died instantly and Laura followed.
'It took 1.43 seconds to assess.'
It was more than enough time.
"Aaaah!"
The women screamed as the guards rushed in and Shirone sat in the empty stands.
"Tell me! Just what the hell is going on!"
He looked up at Marsha and said,
"See you again, sister."
Third loop.
"Surprise!"
The terrorist died again.
'No one must die.'
Shirone had to split the boundary precisely within the plus-or-minus 0.3 centimeter he could hit.
Seventeenth loop.
"Surpri—"
The greeting was no longer surprising as Shirone activated Wind Cutter.
'He overshot.'
Up until now the one who had died had been the terrorist; this time Miss Yakma's neck was severed.
'There's a boundary in between.'
It couldn't be seen with the naked eye, but examined microscopically there would undoubtedly be a gap larger than atoms.
Marsha said the same thing every time.
"Tell me! Just what the hell is going on!"
"...."
Time reversed without answer.
287th loop.
After roughly 287 hours of severing people's necks, Shirone's mind was in a haze.
'I found 0.6 centimeters, but slicing precisely through that gap is too difficult.'
Like one thousand 0.0001-centimeter units in 0.1 centimeter, without knowing the scale the attempts would continue.
"Twenty minutes until the tournament."
He felt the terrorist's murderous intent, participants changed clothes and began joking.
"Hohohi, what do you think? It's really nothing once you see it, right? But since you got a good show, you better guard them until the tournament ends?"
After repeating that hour dozens of times, the scene no longer moved him.
"Laura."
Shirone reached out and spoke; murderous intent rose from her body.
'Wind Cutter.'
Her body and face separated cleanly, though with the naked eye the division was indistinguishable.
"Found it."
Exactly 0.3736 centimeters.
'The hostage didn't die.'
Hyega felt nothing; Mortasinger's body flailed in panic.
'This time I can't stop it anyway.'
As the terrorist destroyed Laura's face, Wind Cutter would chop through her torso.
From the empty stands Marsha shouted.
"Tell me! Just what the hell is going on!"
"Sis."
For the first time since the regressions started, Shirone resonated her timeline with his.
"Come with me."
288th loop.
The moment he opened the waiting room door, Shirone rushed in and separated Laura and the terrorist at the neck.
'If I know the boundary…'
He could move the position of the hidden piece.
"Now!"
The cloth covering Mortasinger's face fell away and Hyega appeared in the corridor.
'How—?'
Shock swirled in Hyega's eyes.
'Damn! The hostage!'
He reached for the holy symbol belatedly, but faster, Marsha snatched Laura.
"I don't know what's going on, but—"
Shirone's explanation grew more obscure with each telling, but it was clear only that the hour had been rewound.
"Hide-and-seek is over!"
Sliding past Hyega, she twisted at the waist and plunged the Blade of Impiety into Mortasinger's back.
"Ugh!"
There was no pain.
"Unauthorized rite?"
From Hyega's back the smoke of desire bled out at a rate of one percent per minute.
"Don't worry. I can fight for a hundred minutes."
Having a clearer sense of each other's positions was a weakness of the Blade of Impiety, but in this case it worked to their advantage.
"Marsha, what's going on?"
Freeman, who had followed into the building late, guarded Marsha with agile movements.
'He really doesn't know.'
Marsha had experienced it once, but Freeman looked bewildered by the sudden situation.
'You've drawn closer to godhood, Shirone.'
If regression was possible, he wished he had told her on the first go-around.
'I want to smack this guy's face properly at least once.'
Watching Hyega's movements, Marsha said,
"There's one more guy outside. Take the hostage and stop him. No one must die."
Being trapped in endless time was something she refused.
"You said a hundred minutes?"
When Hyega lifted the holy symbol, the air he touched crystallized into diamond and shone like a blade.
"Go."
His movement was like the wind.
"You won't last a hundred seconds."
As Hyega rushed in with the holy symbol, Marsha touched the tattoo on her body.
"Blade of Impiety."
A single dagger appeared in her hand.
"How dare you interfere with my work!"
Mortasinger, hit by Shirone's photon cannon, tore through the wall and flew into the sky.
'How did he notice?'
Even if she couldn't help emitting murderous intent, it should have been impossible to estimate the neck boundary precisely.
"Hidden piece!"
He tried to pressure her by activating the unauthorized rite, but after fighting her dozens of times, it was useless against Shirone.
"Enough already!"
Shirone bound her with Shining Chain and fell vertically toward the mountain visible on the ground.
"Aaaah!"
An immortal like her didn't die that easily.
"What is it about you that I hate so much!"
He kept slamming her left and right until she was exhausted and the attacks finally stopped.
"Ugh."
She couldn't move a single finger, but Shirone did not release the magic.
"It's over. If I see your face, the unauthorized rite will vanish, right?"
Mortasinger trembled.
"Please, just kill me! I hate this hideous face! You don't even want to see it, do you?"
"Shut up! Do you know what you did!"
If he hadn't rewound time, she would have killed everyone in the arena.
"What do you know about me? Pretty things can die as much as you like. No—I'll kill them all!"
Shirone's heart ached.
"Even if you're ugly, if you don't love yourself…."
He roughly ripped away the cloth covering Mortasinger's face; she screamed.
"Nooo!"
"What is it?"
The woman, eyes squeezed shut, had a face smooth as a pearl without a single scar.
"Please, don't look. Cover my face."
Shirone didn't believe human beauty could be measured by numbers.
But one thing was clear: ask a hundred people, and even through tears they would call Mortasinger beautiful.
"You're pretty."
She could enter a beauty contest and hold her own.
"Don't lie! What's so pretty about this? Where's there anyone uglier than me?"
He felt a little irritated.
"No, I mean you really are beautiful!"
Mortasinger didn't listen.
"Why are my eyes like this? Why isn't my nose sharper? My lips—look at these faded lips."
"Ah."
Shirone understood.
'Unauthorized rite.'
Mortasinger was beautiful, but her mind had twisted so much she saw even that beauty as ugly.
"Dirty, hideous, disgusting face!"
She was the very embodiment of complex.