Saikyou Series Volume 2 s1Chapter 9

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 9

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai –

Nisioisinp. 45-53

There

are times when I think the world actually ended a while ago, but I

didn’t notice and kept on living anyway. Especially on days full of

nonsense like today… Well, anything can happen in this life of

mine, after all. In any case, if a homunculus and an arm made of fire

are just the warm-up, I wonder what kind of job will this be… I

feel like someone once said that everything you can imagine

is real (1)—funnily

(in both meanings of the word) enough,(2) the events that were

happening one after another were beyond anything I could imagine. At

this point, I guess Kouta wasn’t necessarily

mocking me with what she said about God going out of his way to make

sure I’m not bored. Damn it, Kouta; maybe I’ll marry you this time.

So, Hotsure-chan, Shimegiwkun. What would you like me to do for

you? Just so you know, I’m not cheap.

“I will pay

you sufficiently for your work… Grandpa left us quite a bit in the

inheritance.”

Whatever

Hotsure-chan may say, that kind of big talk will sound suspicious if

you live in an ordinary house like this. Surely you’re not saying the

old man kept a bunch of money in a drawer somewhere.

“You

talk about me as if I’m a stranger to the issue at hand, but I am

not, strictly speaking, totally unconnected. You could even say I

share an intimate connection with that research—Matsuri

and I were both test specimens for it.”

Hotsure-chan

spoke with a touch of self-deprecation in her voice. Perhaps due to

all the information stuffed into her brain in a volume unsuitable for

her age, for a child, she was lacking in facial expressions—but at

that moment, her self-deprecation was plain and obvious.

“'Test

specimens’ is a little too far, Hotsure-sama; I believe ‘prototypes’

would be the right term.”

“You’re

right.”

Hotsure-chan did

not resist Shimegiwa’s chiding words, and simply agreed. They’re a

strange combination, but unexpectedly appealing—I’m jealous of that

kind of relationship. I’ve never had a partner who stuck with me,

come to think of it. So, what do you mean by 'prototype’?

“…As you

have already pointed out, I am the second generation of Grandpa, that

is, Doctor Kitsuregawa, and I have taken over his research. However,

I am not Grandpa himself. I am not yet able to come in contact with

society like he would—I’m still in my test drive stage, so to

speak.”

I highly doubt

Doctor Kitsuregawa would come in contact with society in the first

place, but I suppose even a mad scientist has to negotiate with the

outside world sometimes. When they happened to align with a demand

from society, he’d offer up the savage fruits of his research, in so

doing protect himself from the hardships of life—but it would be

fundamentally unreasonable to ask a newly born five-year-old to have

the same level of cunning. That’s why you’re hiding the fact the

first generation Doctor Kitsuregawa is dead and a homunculus has

taken over as his second generation, right?

“Yes. But we

cannot hide forever; we intend to make a public announcement soon.

Before that, however, I would like to deal with all the unfinished

research that Grandpa left behind… By the way, humanity’s

strongest, the Closet spacesuit you tested for us is one of those

projects. Part of the inheritance Grandpa left.”

Inheritance,

huh… that’s a pretty terrible inheritance. Might be better to call

it bad debt. I see; she didn’t create the spacesuit totally from

scratch, then. Although I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or

not, now that I know the spacesuit was made by an old-fashioned

alchemist.

“Over the past

year, we have been finishing up the research projects that Grandpa

started, one by one. During that time, our work has collided with

yours on multiple occasions, not just with the spacesuit—I have

been observing your work as a contractor. To some extent.”

Hmph. So that’s

why you chose me for this job; I do good work, right? No matter how

small the job, there’s always someone watching me from somewhere.

“Don’t mock

me, please. This is serious.”

To some extent?

“To some

extent, yes.”

Is

Shimegiwkun’s arm part of the research you inherited, Hotsure-chan?

Or did it get finished by your predecessor?

“Matsuri’s arm

is entirely Grandpa’s handiwork.”

Hotsure-chan

answered, and then continued.

“Matsuri’s

career as a resident of this house is longer than mine—for all

intents and purposes, he was the one who raised me.”

Hmph; in that

case, he really is her guardian. That did make me curious about how

Shimegiwa got involved with the first generation Doctor Kitsuregawa,

but I’d probably cause another digression if I asked about that.

“That is

precisely the issue, and why I would very much like your help. With

the exception of the very minor projects, I have been able to

finish—or at the very least, dispose of—most of Grandpa’s

research… However, there is one last project of his that I can

neither solve nor dispose of. I don’t know what to do; I’m at my

wit’s end.”

Oh? She’s being

very honest—I never thought I’d hear a scientist say “I don’t

know”.

“Well, I’m new

to this. Both as a scientist and as the second generation Doctor

Kitsuregawa… If I were Grandpa, I’m sure I wouldn’t be at my wit’s

end—if he were to reach this impasse, he might have disposed of the

research without a second thought.”

Could that mean

this one remaining project had some emotional significance to

Hotsure-chan or Shimegiwa?

“I suppose it

could. But our attachment to it isn’t quite so emotional as it is

practical… If this research is abandoned, then Matsuri and I would

lose the meaning to our lives.”

You’d lose the

meaning to your lives? You sure like to exaggerate. Besides, people

who actually have meaning to their lives are in the minority.

“This is not

some pubescent identity crisis. What I mean is, if we abandon that

project, then it would be as if we—the fruits of Doctor

Kitsuregawa’s research—served no purpose. Do you understand?”

Maybe the reason

why I understood what she was trying to say right away was that I’d

been in a similar circumstance—there was a time in my life when I

was a test subject in my fathers’ “apocalypse research”. The

research itself failed, but the fact that failed might make it seem

like I was unnecessary, depending on how you look at it. I can say

“Who cares?” and move past it, but these kids don’t seem quite as

carefree as I am. So I said: What you mean is, you guys were

components in this last research project?

“Well, I

suppose we are. Myself as a homunculus, and Matsuri’s arm… we were

the stairs that this project was climbing.”

Stairs, huh. If

you put it that way, it reminds me of those Thirteen Stairs from a

while ago.

“Thirteen

Stairs?”

You don’t need

to know. Keep going.

“The

homunculus was an experiment in turning the inorganic organic, making

something from nothing, creating life from the lifeless, so to speak.

Using it as a vessel for himself was probably nothing more than a

secondary goal for Grandpa. The point is, he was trying to create

something equivalent to, but totally separate from the lineage of

humanity.”

So he was aiming

to see if he could make the same product with different ingredients.

Asking a scientist why there was any need to do that—or telling

them that we already have humans so there’s no point in making

something else—wouldn’t just be stupid, it would be rude.

“And Matsuri’s

arm was an experiment in turning human flesh into gas.”

Like turning man

into machine? Cyborgs?

“Not like a

cyborg, gas… He wanted to determine whether the human body,

which is composed of solids and liquids, could be made from gases.

Grandpa’s goal was certainly not to produce a middle schooler’s

fantasy like an arm made of burning fire.”

If only it was

just a middle schooler’s fantasy. Turning a human into gas… Like

how vampires turn into mist? So the flames, the hot temperatures, and

the weaponization were all just byproducts, and the key points were

the change and variation in the states of matter.

“Doctor

Kitsuregawa called it the 'vaporization phenomenon’.” Shimegiwa

wearily patted his right arm. “The only thing I can vaporize is my

arm, though… What Doctor Kitsuregawa was asking was whether or not

a living thing could exist in the gaseous state.”

I wanted to ask

what the point of asking even was—but he didn’t just ask, he

actually went and found an answer, which astonished me. If you asked

me, as a layman, even if he succeeded in turning the human body into

gas, wouldn’t its volume increase rapidly to the point where it would

disperse and be unable to return to its original form? That was the

first problem that came to mind, but seeing how Shimegiwa’s right arm

had returned to its solid form right in front of me, I guess that

hurdle has been cleared.

“Rest assured

that I will show you the data later, if you are interested. Right

now, I’m just giving a broad outline.”

The data? You’ll

show me the data? Isn’t that highly classified?

“It is neither

classified nor secret. More importantly, although I hope you have

realized this by now, what we are asking of you—the commission we

want you to take—is to assist us in completing that final research

project. Or, if nothing can be done, to dispose of it in our place.”

……

“What, did you

think you would be used as a guinea pig again? You’re not a battle

maniac whose only specialty is fighting, are you? You stand out for

your ostentatiously active lifestyle, but really, you have plenty of

scholastic accomplishments as well—actually, wouldn’t you say brain

work is more your strong suit?”

It’s really

unusual for someone to see me that way. Well, I’m not humble enough

to act humble here. But still, I’m not so conceited as to think

myself clever enough to assist in Doctor Kitsuregawa’s research.

“Do you

accept, humanity’s strongest?”

Hmph. Part of me

was surprised at how ordinary the job turned out to be—however,

that depends on what this final research project, this bad

inheritance left to you by Doctor Kitsuregawa, specifically entails.

What on Earth could this alchemist’s unfinished work be? Other than

artificial life, the reconstitution of flesh, and the transcendence

of human intellect, I can’t see any commonalities between these two

research products… I don’t think I can help out with this research

without understanding that. But, setting Shimegiwa aside, maybe what

Hotsure-chan really wants me to do is to “dispose” of it. Maybe

she can’t do it herself because she’s too emotionally attached, so

she wants me to deal with it in her place… When it comes to stuff

like that, Jun Aikawa is a natural-born destroyer, and destroying

things (in various ways) is the strongest of my strong suits. I

wouldn’t hesitate to demolish Doctor Kitsuregawa’s precious

inheritance.

“Well, do you,

Jun Aikawa?”

Shimegiwa

pressed me for an answer. Don’t rush me. Well, at this rate I’ll

probably end up accepting the job, but there’s something I need to

make sure of first. Do you have any intention of selling this final

research over to the ER3 System, or the Four Gods and One Mirror, or

anybody like that? I can introduce you to Associate Professor

Hewlett, the world’s foremost intellect, for free if you like.

“You don’t get

it, do you. We want you as a contractor, Jun Aikawa, not as a

researcher. Of all the things Grandpa disliked, what he hated most of

all were geniuses and the elite.”

I have inherited that “memory”

quite clearly, Hotsure-chan said

expressionlessly. I see. Well, that makes sense; to mad scientist

Doctor Kitsuregawa, people in the same line of work wouldn’t be

business rivals, they’d be natural enemies. Okay, then. Time for you

to tell me what this research is really about.

“Yes,

you’re right. I’ll tell you. But before I do, will you promise me

something?”

Another

promise? What is it this time?

“Promise

that you won’t be alarmed, no matter what you see.”

That’s

the contract she wanted me to agree to? Hey, now, it’s way too late

for that. There’s no use telling me to be alarmed now, and I doubt

there’s any use telling me to not be alarmed either.

“No,

what I meant was, if you become alarmed, then it

will become alarmed as well. I do not want to traumatize it—it is

extremely feeble.”

……?

Hotsure-chan was still beating around the bush, so I looked at

Shimegiwa, but he was no different—I guess I’ll have to see it to

believe it. Alright then, take me to the second floor. To the

laboratory—or as an alchemist might say, the workshop?

“You’re

right. I don’t call it a workshop, but Grandpa did. …I would have

liked you to meet him when he was alive, if your sensibilities align

to that extent.”

Hotsure-chan

stood up from the couch—give me a break. I really doubt we’d have

gotten along. You’re right that Doctor Kitsuregawa would never have

asked another researcher for help, but if he were here, he wouldn’t

have asked me for help

either.

“But

that’s just it. You speak of Grandpa like you knew him well; I

inherited his memories, but even I cannot make assertions about him

so confidently.”

Making

assertions is a bad habit of mine. Don’t put too much stock in it, or

I’ll have trouble answering.

“I

see. Well then, I suppose I’ll say it again after you have completed

the job—it will be exciting to see how you reply.

…Grandpa—Motsure Kitsuregawa, the modern-day alchemist, called

his final research project—”

Hotsure-chan

strode forward as if to take the vanguard position.

“The

Lamp of the Destitute.(3) That is what he called her.”

Footnotes:(1)

A common sentiment people usually can’t attribute to anyone specific.

The closest would be a quote attributed to Pablo Picasso, “Everything

we imagine is real.”(2) In the original Jun says “thankfully”

instead of “funnily enough”. The Japanese word she uses, 有り難い

(arigatai),

mainly means “thankful”, but its literal meaning is “hard to be

[exist]”; it combines ari

(from aru, “to be”)

and gatai (“hard,

difficult”).(3) This term (貧者の一灯,

hinja no ittou) comes

from an expression of Buddhist origin, “Better one lamp from the

destitute than ten thousand from the rich”, from which Nisio

extracts “one lamp from the destitute”. The expression teaches

that a small offering made with true sincerity is more virtuous than

a large offering by a rich person, and comes from this story:The

king of Ajatashatru (阿闍世,

ajase) invites

the Buddha for a memorial service, and places ten thousand lamps

along the path from the Jetavana monastery (祇園精舎,

gion shouja) to

light the way. A destitute old woman wants to offer light to the

Buddha, so she spends the few pennies she has to buy a small amount

of oil to light a lamp. Throughout the night, the king’s lamps are

blown out by the wind, run out of oil, etc., but the old woman’s lamp

remains miraculously lit.