The World We Live In (5)
The pyramids erected across the world stole people's minds with their magnetic fields.
They became the "In," and, following the god's will, began to move as a single collective.
Like a river branching into tributaries, some currents flowed toward the temple.
"Toward the god's holy site." But other currents had already set off toward places far from Jaive.
As if they somehow knew at the last moment where something would happen.
"We're heading for the Delta headquarters."
At the pyramid in the Jaive Kingdom, many In had already been born.
Among them were holy knights of the Exorcism Corps who had been sent to investigate the pyramid on Pope Constantine's orders.
"Kill Maya."
Armored figures clanked as they marched toward the Delta headquarters.
The protests continued, and Albino turned away from the window as if the game were already over.
"Everyone shouts that they're right. Because everyone insists they're right, nobody can call anyone else wrong—that's the problem."
Lupist followed at his heels.
"After the demon invasion, Jaive adopted a democratic monarchy for the capital. That's why Gis became king. The pride of citizens who rebuilt after the war is massive."
"Who would deny it? Democracy's a good system. But you shouldn't treat it like a sacred thing. Ideology has no special value. The real reason monarchy collapsed wasn't because it ran counter to humanism, but because its efficiency had become outdated. Bloody revolution was probably just a passing phase compared to the enormous wealth a systemic change would bring."
"Forgive me, but that sounds a bit disdainful toward the present age."
"Heh. That's not it. Freedom is good. But to me, freedom isn't something handed to you—it's something you seize. That idea's dug in deep. So yeah, I guess that makes me an old fuddy-duddy."
"If I misspoke—"
"No, it's fine. It's the truth. Live according to your age. I'm just worried that the concept of freedom is crowding out every other idea."
Albino said.
"They say they respect individual worth, but in reality they toss out a few choices and tell you to pick one. I heard Rodenin had heated debates about legalizing homosexuality. Fine—this side heterosexual, that side homosexual. But where does a little homosexuality, or half-way homosexuality, go? In the end it's this or that. The many personalities that sit in between get crushed. That's not negotiation; that's a method used in war. The protesters won't be able to unite under either banner."
If the mindset is win-first-and-worry-later—
"I'm not saying we should restore the monarchy. Rodenin once lived through a time when the system censored people. After that dark age, we've entered an era where individuals censor each other. Nobody told them to, but people watch one another. Once friend-or-foe identification is done, all that's left is ruthless punishment."
"There may be no single correct answer, yet people act as if everything can be perfectly defined. The imagination to wonder what life someone else led has become useless to society. Is this evolution? If everyone is satisfied, then live that way... but an old-timer like me will inevitably find it bitter."
"Someone who thinks like that isn't just an old-timer."
"Ha! That's because you're becoming like me. Kids these days call us 'old man,' right? Think back—when we were young, we'd flinch if an adult told us something. Even if they were clumsy or irritating, we went along. Isn't that natural, beyond right and wrong? After all, the owners of the future are they."
Perhaps because the temple's ugly politics would be settled by morning, Albino felt melancholic.
When he opened the security room door, Dante sat amid thick smoke, smoking a cigarette.
"Ah—sorry."
Albino extended his hand.
"Don't bother. Make yourself comfortable."
Dante, who had to predict the whereabouts of Rom, Garto, and Temika, was currently the busiest man.
"You've been working hard. I should buy you a drink."
"It's fine. Have a seat." Dante stubbed out his cigarette and began the briefing.
"About twelve hours until the vote. It depends on how alliances form, but the frontrunner for world-leading nation right now is Jaive—forty-two percent."
Because they were calculating voting trends, rough probabilities were inferable.
"Well... they did pretty well."
There had been many incidents since the temple opened.
If Jaive merited it, it was because they had handled all those variables steadily.
Dante continued. "The next candidate is Korona. But that country is unstable—the Ivory Tower may be retaken. Their probability is thirty-four percent."
No one objected.
"Shall we go over third place too?"
He probably wanted to hear Tormia's name.
"From third on it's close. Kashan and Airon are at twenty-one and nineteen percent respectively."
"Kashan, huh."
"Yes. Woorin's identity hasn't been confirmed, but if they're alive tomorrow morning there could be a rebound. Their odds are higher than Airon's."
Albino felt a sting of bitterness.
"If the empress fled without even changing her underwear and that country is third, did Tormia never stand a chance?"
Lupist said.
"Before things turned like this, Kashan was the overwhelming number one. Falling this far is a huge event. And as for Tormia..."
He couldn't help but ask bluntly. "What place are we?"
"Sixth. Jaive, Korona, Kashan, Airon, Jincheon, then Tormia. Sixteen point four percent."
Albino stroked his beard. "In any case, the fact no nation has over fifty percent means risk remains. Is there any room for us to overtake them within twelve hours?"
Dante flipped a chart. "People near the pyramids are moving en masse toward Rodenin. If clashes with the protesters occur, anything could happen. There's even a chance Gis could be impeached."
"If that happens, he'll lose his voting rights. Even if he tries to run, twelve hours is too short to recover." There was also the last-card gamble of using Phlu.
Lupist said, "So there's still a chance to claw back."
"Yes. Unpredictable events can always occur. And this is my personal thought, but..." Dante trailed off, and the others looked up.
"What is it?"
"Extracting meaningful information from a single event is actually easier—it's a mix of intuition and calculation."
"Something's bothering you?" Dante pointed to the Kesia Kingdom on the chart.
"Fermi. She definitely knows something. You can't get these figures without that."
"What rank?"
"Twelfth. Lower than the southern tribal confederation. Kesia's chance of becoming the world-leading nation is 0.1 percent."
Lupist touched his chin. "That's an inhumanly low number."
"Yes. No movement at all—not even in alliances. They're far too quiet despite their former king being murdered. Either they've given up, or they're aiming at something big. One of the two."
"The latter, I think."
Albino, who said that, asked again. "Then what might they be aiming for? What big thing could that be?"
There was a knock, and Lilia cracked the door and peeked in.
"Hey, do you have a moment?"
She, who had predicted the fate of the Moon Kingdom, was still at the temple taking care of Pony.
"What's the matter?"
"His Highness regained consciousness." Dante, too, worried about their old classmate, couldn't spare the time now.
'Pony is no longer a variable.' It was time to focus on the Fermi variable.
"Understood. I'll—"
"Shirone's here too. In His Highness's room." Lilia added hastily.
She might have said it indirectly, but Shirone having summoned everyone was obvious.
Albino rose from his chair. "Let's move to that room. We'll listen there. Ana, do you think sixteen point four percent will shift?"
He left the room with Lupist, Dante, and Lilia following. Lupist asked, "You said sixteen point four percent might move. Do you think Shirone will be our variable?"
"He must've felt something watching the protest. But that's not the reason. The moment I heard that girl's words something struck me: Fermi carries a 0.1 percent falsehood, and Shirone carries 99.9 percent truth. My feeling is..." Albino's eyes hardened. "Fermi's falsehood is probably connected to Shirone's truth. Those bastards pulled some trick—by means that no one understands."
A thought crossed his mind that maybe even the people involved didn't know themselves.
'If not...'
In a private room of the Kesia sector, Fermi received data that had just come from the mining team.
If they were High Gear administrators—coding specialists—the transmission would be reliable.
'Whether they actually saw it is unknown... but honestly that doesn't matter.
'As long as Shirone never sees this information. That's why I contracted with Marsha.'
Not because Marsha prioritized the deal, but because Fermi treasured Shirone too much.
With slightly trembling hands she opened the data, and records of events that hadn't yet happened unfolded.
The download had stopped at eighty-three percent, so there were broken sections scattered through the record.
Most importantly, how Omega 999 ended couldn't be confirmed.
'But it's enough.'
Fermi skimmed the files quickly.
Then her eyes fixed on Amy's death, which still hadn't been altered.
'This won't be easy. Amy's life and death are tied to the fate of this world.'
After Fisho's funeral, when Shirone had come to the Golden Coin Wheel, Fermi had told him the truth.
'That was chaos.'
They'd fought countless times since Magic Academy, but Fermi realized then for the first time that he could lose himself in a frenzy.
'Honestly, I'm not sure. But no matter how I look at it, this is the only method. I can't even calculate win rates. The only thing that supports my judgment is...'
That Shirone approved it.
'He accepted the deal because he reached the same conclusion. The one who hates me so much... would trust me, of all people.'
She drew a deep breath.
Fermi went back to the beginning and examined Omega 999's records again.
This time it wasn't Shirone's record that held her gaze, but the record of the person Fermi loved.
'Seriel.'
What was to happen would take place in one hour.