Encounter

"It's over, it's all over. There's no future for this washed-up race called Sarkaz. Ugh, why was I even born into this race? Being born on Terra is punishment enough, but a Sarkaz on top of that? Talk about piling punishment on punishment. I'd really like to see the face of this so-called god. Actually, no, never mind. I feel like I'd just see a malicious smile."

"Hehehe"

She—Her Highness—was sitting across from me with a beautiful smile on her face. The last and only royal member of the Sarkaz. She sat there laughing without any guards—or rather, unable to have any guards. Perhaps laughter was the only thing permitted to Her Highness anymore. And in front of her was me, a nameless, homeless Sarkaz with nowhere to return to, just like countless others. The only notable thing about me might be that this is my second life. But even that gives me no advantage in this harsh and hopeless land.

That's how barren this land was.

Well, not the land, but Kaztel.

There are houses.

There is land.

There is transportation.

There are shops, people, and laws.

But with ruins mixed among the city, everyone lives mechanically, immersed in a distorted sense of despair.

This city of Kaztel is dead. Everyone—no, every Sarkaz—is living while dead. The world's largest infected city. The abyss where the world's largest pandemic has become the norm. That's this place, Kaztel, the homeland of the Sarkaz. Even the infected no longer come here; only the Sarkaz remain. Sarkaz keep leaving, and none return. Only two types of people remain in this semi-civil war state of Kaztel: those who are crazy and those who cannot leave.

And Her Highness is someone who cannot leave.

I'm one of the crazy ones.

That's the relationship between us. What's that supposed to mean? Well, it's not important. The point is that even someone crazy like me can easily sneak into the castle, meet with Theresa, and talk with her. That's how devastated the situation around Her Highness has become. Theresa, the ally of the Sarkaz, now has only a handful of supporters left in Kaztel.

Even though she remembers the face and name of every Sarkaz.

Well, I don't have a name anyway.

That's why I was in Theresa's room. There was no one else around to disturb us. Few people take an interest in her anymore. So no one came to scold me for being a homeless, nameless, jobless good-for-nothing sprawled on Theresa's bed. This land has become incredibly cruel and meaningless for the true royal family. Yet she remains here alone, as the last royal member.

Even though from the outside, it's clear that the Regent already controls this kingdom.

Ah, man, this country is finished. Why did I have to reincarnate in a place like this?

"Kaztel is really hopeless, isn't it?"

"You say that, but 'you' don't leave Kaztel, do you?"

"That's because Theresa is still here in Kaztel. How could I leave when you're determined to stay? Look, if I left, Theresa would have no friends left, and that would be pitiful, right?"

"I don't deny it's pitiful, but isn't that cruel?"

"It's not cruel because it's the truth."

Theresa puffed her cheeks slightly in anger. The crystals already visible on her torso showed that she was severely infected with Oripathy. She made no effort to hide it, nor did she have any intention of treating it. But the ability to suppress it through Arts and willpower alone was what made the Sarkaz royalty such monsters. Her appearance seemed as fragile as snow falling in midsummer, looking like she might break at the slightest touch.

But this woman's normal punch is a megaton punch, her charge can break through houses, and her kick is more deadly than a point-blank shotgun—she's a walking weapon, the Sarkaz Final Weapon. Isn't that unfair, having such a deadly arsenal with such a fragile appearance? Are you really sickly? That's what you'd want to ask, given the extreme disparity between her appearance and capabilities. But that's the privilege of royalty, I suppose.

Yet even such an ultimate being has only me as a friend.

That subtly satisfies my self-esteem—an exquisitely ugly emotion.

"Besides, 'you' don't look like you have any other friends either."

"Ah! You're saying it?! You're actually saying that?! You're really going to say—!"

With a "Ugah!" she sat up and raised both hands as if to attack me. Theresa responded with laughter. I stretched out my hands to attack, but she deflected everything with just one hand. Wow, the princess is incredibly strong. After enjoying that little farce for a while, I sprawled back on Theresa's bed, occupying it, and casually reached for a book from the pile at the bedside and opened it.

The contents weren't girlish novels... but rather philosophical books and political texts. Even though all real power had been taken from her, Theresa hadn't stopped cultivating herself as royalty.

"'You'"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think the Sarkaz, Kaztel, is sick?"

"It's definitely sick. Terminal cancer level. Metastasized everywhere. Beyond hope."

I wonder if the concept of cancer even exists here? The level of civilization varies too much to tell. After all, I'm currently slum-born and slum-raised. The only proper books I can access are the ones in this room, so I can't know about the outside world without hearing it from others. But surely Theresa is smart enough to grasp what I'm trying to say. So I continue.

"It's over. Kaztel is. All that's left is to turn to ash."

And that too,

"The Sarkaz overflowing from Kaztel will spread like a disease across the land of Terra. Someday this world will end too."

That much I can declare with certainty.

Oripathy. The energy created from the mysterious mineral called Originium forms the core of current technology. But its utilization also creates the incurable disease called Oripathy. Those infected with Oripathy have their bodies parasitized by Originium, and even if the Originium is removed, organs and Originium fuse together, with particles mixing into the bloodstream to a level that makes removal impossible—once infected, it's a disease from which there is absolutely no recovery.

But Oripathy has the ability to distort and mutate the essence of the infected. The Sarkaz are creatures with high Arts aptitude, and because of this, they even celebrate infection-induced mutations as something of a blessing. In fact, non-infected are so rare among the Sarkaz that they're considered a minority, with 99.9% of Sarkaz being infected. And most of them are fools who willingly sought infection.

Oripathy cannot be treated once infected. When you die, you become a mass of Originium, breaking into fragments that spread and infect others nearby with Oripathy. And in the terminal stages, Oripathy affects the brain, causing mental abnormalities that distort behavior and thinking.

It's a nightmare. A nightmarish disease.

Yet the Sarkaz accept it as a blessing, seeking infection as an honor.

What an insane race.

And I was born into this insane race. And in Kaztel, there are only Sarkaz. That means everyone around is infected, and day by day, more and more people go crazy. This city must have had a proper form once.

But how many people remain who could be called nobility?

How many people remain who could be called proper citizens?

Just how devastated has Kaztel become... This place is already destined for destruction. Slowly but surely perishing. Even the Sarkaz themselves are leaving this place, with fewer and fewer staying each year. And newly mercenary Sarkaz spread blood, Originium, and Oripathy across this land.

Cancer cells—the Sarkaz race is the cancer of Terra.

"Then,"

Theresa says, then.

"What do you think would save Kaztel... this land?"

Impossible. I was about to say that reflexively, but seeing Theresa looking at me seriously, I sighed. This princess still seems to be genuinely thinking about how to change things. Or perhaps she's started thinking about it because she's reached that age. Whether she sees reality or not, at any rate, it's not an atmosphere where I can make light of her question.

"Love & Peace"

"Love and peace"

I flash a V-sign and smile at Theresa. Even a ragged Sarkaz like me should look decent enough with a peace sign and a smile. So V, V.

"There's not enough spirit of love and peace."

"'You'..."

Well, I'm being serious...? The root cause is in Originium and Oripathy, but.

"The discrimination stemming from Originium and Oripathy is the cause of everything. Since Oripathy produces effects, there must be some way to intervene, and smart people should get together to look for treatment methods. If treatment becomes possible, there won't be any more crazy infected people, and since people won't die from Oripathy anymore, there won't be anyone afraid of it."

Then conflicts would decrease and look,

"Love & Peace"

"P-Peace"

That's right, like that. I think Theresa should smile more. She's beautiful, so it's a waste to just wear a forced smile. I think she would be even more wonderful if she could truly smile or show a genuine smile. But considering the current situation and environment, that's difficult. Maybe she could laugh if she had time in front of me where she didn't have to think about anything—but hoping for this person to be an ordinary woman is probably not realistic.

"Nobody tries to understand Oripathy. Nobody tries to cure it. That's why it remains scary, Theresa. If someone showed the will to cure it, to make this incurable disease a thing of the past, then maybe... but nobody wants to do that. That's why Oripathy remains an incurable disease."

Yes,

"If the disease is cured, hearts should be healed too."

At least the fear of infection that is swallowing Kaztel, or even Terra, would end. Wouldn't that make the world a little more decent? Thinking about this, Theresa put her hands together thoughtfully and looked down. It seems my words got her thinking. What I don't understand is why people on this continent haven't realized this.

On Earth, we researched diseases like influenza and SARS even at the cost of sacrifices, and produced effective medications. The results born from accumulated sacrifices have shown tremendous outcomes in saving people afterward. That thinking seems completely absent in Terra. Or maybe it's simply that no one wants to be the first sacrifice. Some of this information can be learned from mercenaries by paying money or performing tricks.

"Well, that requires money, personnel, and talent for research, and it's not something an individual can do. Theresa can't do it."

"Do you think so?"

"Impossible. Theresa can't possibly do it when the Regent holds real power and you can't go outside or make connections."

At those words, Theresa showed a dissatisfied expression. You can see her will to do something, to somehow make a change. But impossible things are impossible. Theresa is currently a caged bird. Even if she has supporters, most of them have been cut off by the Regent. It appears peaceful on the surface. There's no one who truly wants to be on Theresa's side. How could she possibly take action to eradicate Oripathy in this situation?

It's impossible, impossible.

Better to give up.

Oripathy has become something like that, you just have to accept it and be careful not to get infected yourself. Behind the scenes, even I'm still uninfected at this age. If you're careful about infection routes, you can avoid becoming infected even as a Sarkaz.

...Though the best thing would probably be to leave Kaztel altogether.

"Ah! I'd love to go to Siesta!"

"Siesta? You could go alone, couldn't you?"

"Going alone would be boring and lonely. Traveling only means something when you go with friends, you know?"

I strike a pose and glance at Theresa, who covers her mouth elegantly and laughs.

"Honestly, you should just go without worrying about me, since I can't leave here."

"Well, someday. Someday, okay? I'll bring you souvenirs then."

"Yes, I look forward to it."

She laughs softly, and I turn my gaze from Theresa to look out the window, where I notice the day is already starting to end. The area around the palace still looks relatively orderly and beautiful. But the city beyond becomes more and more dilapidated the further you get from the palace. And surrounding that are vast slums. And those slums continue to grow year by year—like they're eating away at the urban areas.

"The sun's setting, so I should head back soon."

I want to get back to my bed before it gets completely dark.

"Won't you... stay the night?"

At those words from Theresa, I give a bitter smile and shake my head in denial. She is Sarkaz royalty, the last princess. And I'm a nameless slum dweller. Our worlds are too different, and if I stayed over, I'd really catch the Regent's attention. If that happened, I'd probably be killed too. So I just convey my regret with intention, open the window of this room that imprisons Theresa, and place my foot on the windowsill.

"Well, I'll come again."

"Yes, see you next time."

Saying goodbye, I jump from the window.

The nights in Kaztel are terrifying.

Always overflowing with infected, mercenaries and aberrants who hide during the day become active. Sarkaz who couldn't adapt as mercenaries and simply transformed into murderers also prowl at night, and in the slums, someone else is being killed for safe sleeping places or food. So it's better to return to the slum bed while it's still daylight. But today, perhaps because I was discussing somewhat sensitive content with Theresa, my return was delayed.

It was already dark by the time I reached the slums.

"This is troublesome."

Convenient things like streetlights obviously don't exist. The slums—the ruins of the former city—have already abandoned their role as a city, and utilities don't run here. So if you need water, you have to fetch it from the river, and if you want energy, you need to extract and process Originium from nearby Sarkaz corpses. It's an extremely inconvenient place to live. But most Sarkaz are used to living in such poor environments. Most of them were born and raised here.

And I too have survived for more than a decade in this abysmal slum environment.

My parents died long ago as infected. They left no possessions, and all they taught me was how hopeless this world is. Or perhaps because of that. Through my parents' deaths, I learned how terrifying Oripathy is. That's why I turned my back on the insane infection ideology that's called the honor and pride of the Sarkaz, and have lived paying the utmost attention to avoid infection.

Thanks to that, I've managed to live without my body being eroded by Originium.

But how long will this miracle continue? Just how long can I continue to live without being eroded by Originium? I know very well that there's no salvation in this world. Look at Theresa! She's already severely infected! No matter how monstrous and incredible the Sarkaz royalty may be, she probably won't live to 30. Her death by Oripathy, with her entire body pierced by Originium, is already a determined fate.

I don't want that. I don't want to die like that.

I want to die as a human, at least.

That's why the Sarkaz are shit and crazy.

"Sigh... I better get back and sleep."

I walk through the darkness toward the ruins I use as a nest. The only guides are the moon and stars in the night sky. I have to make my way through this slum relying only on their light. The boundary between the urban area and the slums has many human presences. In the shallow parts of the slums, vagrants huddle together to protect each other. Sarkaz men are sturdy and strong. If they're infected, their Arts are enhanced, making them reliable bodyguards.

Though if you're a woman, it's not uncommon to have your body demanded in return.

Those who dislike that, who dislike grouping together, head deeper into the slums—toward where the crazier ones are. The fewer people there are, the more screams and the smell of blood disappear into the darkness. Those who venture deeper out of self-interest are killed by such people.

And I too might someday join their ranks. Passing through the surface layer of the slums and entering the deeper layers, I see blood-intoxicated laughter or shadows moving silently in the darkness, just like every other day. Sarkaz who can no longer find hope in reality stab Originium into their veins as a substitute for drugs, sacrificing their futures for the temporary pleasure and hallucinations arising from pain.

No one has any hope of living.

The Sarkaz are just flowing toward the destruction indicated by the Regent—Theresis. I'm the same. I told Theresa how things could get better. But I'm doing nothing. Fundamentally, I'm no different from the other Sarkaz. I don't think an individual can do anything about Oripathy. And I don't think anything will change or be different if I leave Kaztel. That's why I'm hiding in the slums of Kaztel. Hiding, watching the Sarkaz crown that is Theresa, and dreaming.

Because I was born a Sarkaz, and can't find any other hope in this life.

—At that moment, I noticed a figure walking toward me in the darkness.

The footsteps are firm. The figure in the shadow of the ruins is hard to see in the darkness, but judging from the height, it's probably a male Sarkaz. The way he walks straight toward me without hesitation after spotting me makes it seem like he's targeting me. No, I instinctively understand that he has firmly locked onto me. Was I being followed? No, there's no killing intent.

"A raving lunatic, huh—"

Someone whose Oripathy symptoms have worsened to the point of affecting the brain. If it were bright, they'd hate the sunlight and stay hidden, but when it gets dark, they become nocturnal and start wandering around actively. Did he see me and want to attack, or is it simply his preference? Either way, there's no need to properly deal with this kind of opponent.

I take my hand out from under my rags and manipulate the steel threads attached to my gloves using Arts. The use of Originium Arts, combined with the high Arts aptitude of the Sarkaz, induces the onset of Oripathy by Originium. Therefore, the rate of Oripathy infection due to Arts use with Arts units equipped is quite high. At least, many Sarkaz who continue to use Arts recklessly become infected.

That's precisely why I try to avoid using Arts as much as possible. Using Arts requires either Originium or an Arts unit. But using either gradually puts a strain on the human body, increasing the rate of Oripathy infection. And terrifyingly, this is said to be irreversible. You'd probably feel like vomiting at this horrifying fact. So I can't use Arts, don't want to use Arts. But sometimes they're necessary for self-defense. A shabby Arts unit is needed to operate wires at maximum specs. That's why I carry one around.

I don't want to get infected.

I spread steel threads at my feet, and the Sarkaz emerging from the darkness lunged forward at once to close the distance. Just as his front foot stepped on the stretched steel thread, he came flying toward me with momentum, as if tumbling over.

"Yo"

I step on the face of the figure falling forward headfirst, and using that as a foothold, jump backward. Hooking the steel thread like a wire on a nearby ruin, I swing largely while hanging from the steel thread with the momentum gained from the jump.

I curl up my body as it's thrown like a pendulum, detach the steel thread from the ruin and send it upward, then grab onto a protrusion on the wall of a nearby ruin. From there, I climb all the way to the top of the ruin.

"Love & Peace spirit, Sarkaz. Value your life more."

While storing the steel thread with Arts, I send a peace sign to the Sarkaz who has fallen to the ground, and without descending from the ruin, move from rooftop to rooftop. I don't know if he'll chase me or not—well, I could solve the problem by killing him.

In the end, it's just that I don't have the courage or motivation to kill...

"Moonlight~ stroll~"

Singing in a small voice so it doesn't echo, I move from the top of one ruin to another. Eventually, I see a large structure extending upward, with its entrance buried as if to refuse entry. All windows are also closed from the inside, leaving no way to enter from the ground.

But it's a different story if you climb up and enter from above.

It's not designed to be climbed, but I know the route well. So I jump from the rooftop of the ruin toward the wall and grip the protruding irregularities with hand strength, sticking to the wall, and then smoothly climb up to the top.

The ceiling here has already collapsed, with nothing to block the sky. That means once you reach the top, you can easily enter. This is the entrance to my nest.

The point is that infiltration is troublesome. Not impossible. Just troublesome. People who would go through the trouble to attack don't exist here. If someone really just wants to kill and rampage, there are more enjoyable places in the slums. They would head there instead.

That's why this is my personal sanctuary I created in the slums. No one else comes in, and if they do, I can drive them out. After all, there are plenty of ways to cause suffering without killing. If they feel fear, they won't wander in again.

...Well, there are exceptions to everything.

"I'm home—huh?"

After jumping over the outer wall and landing on the half-burnt stairs, I sense a human presence as I start to descend. If this were an Oripathy infected person, I would immediately know from the presence of Originium. But there's no trace characteristic of an infected. This fact sparks some interest. How many people in this Kaztel have lived cleanly without touching Originium, like me? The fact that someone else exists—or rather, actually exists—besides me is too interesting.

Understanding the fact that there is definitely an intruder, I go down the stairs to the first floor and see the figure of a ragged Sarkaz woman resting her back on a worn-out sofa. Her tattered clothing, blood stains, and body covered in wounds make her look like she's come through the slums in a battered state.

"Good evening, Sarkaz. That's my bed, by the way."

"..."

There's no response even when I speak to her. No, there is. But she's not making any sound. The silver-haired Sarkaz in tattered clothing turns her gaze toward me, but doesn't seem like she's going to do anything—or maybe she's just tired. Looking at her, it seems like she's just barely made it here.

Seeing her figure reminds me of a person who once wandered into this slum.

The place, time, and age are all different.

But she had wandered into this slum seeking something new. Her atmosphere and appearance were completely out of place. She looked at me with sparkling eyes, fascinated by a world she had never seen before, while also giving me a piercing gaze. Feeling uneasy about her excessively defenseless appearance, I impulsively brought her to what was then my nest and sheltered her.

...Though afterward, I was found by a Confessor and got scolded spectacularly.

Her appearance and attire are completely different. She was more elegant and full of hope. In comparison, the woman occupying my shabby bed seems overflowing with despair. But there's something familiar about the way she suddenly knocked on the door of my life and entered, making me inadvertently let out a bitter smile.

"Are you okay? Let me see your wounds. I can't use healing Arts, so I can only do basic things like bandaging."

"..."

She reacts slightly as I approach, but seems to lack the energy to run away. Upon closer inspection, her clothes really are in tatters, barely functional. It's almost the same as not wearing anything. I take out bandages and gauze from the first aid kit, remove the Sarkaz woman's clothes, lightly wipe the wounds with water, and then bandage them for treatment. Luxurious items like disinfectant aren't kept here, so this is all I can do.

When that's done, I take out a change of clothes from the still-intact closet and throw them to the Sarkaz woman.

"Take those. Change into them."

"..."

The Sarkaz woman doesn't answer.

"Don't you have a name?"

"..."

"None, huh. Just like me."

Sarkaz don't have names. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Unless you're special like Theresa or become a skilled warrior, you probably won't obtain a name. That's the kind of creatures Sarkaz are. So it's not so unusual that neither I nor this girl has a name.

But at times like this, it's inconvenient not having something to call someone.

Thinking about such things, I sit down in a ragged chair without having dinner. Half the cotton in the cushion has fallen out, so it's not comfortable, but it's better than having nothing under your butt. Seeing that the Sarkaz in front of me has picked up the clothes, I cross my arms and close my eyes, praying I won't be killed when I wake up tomorrow morning.

I might be killed while sleeping.

I might have everything stolen while sleeping.

But strangely, I didn't feel any hostility from the Sarkaz in front of me. So I too followed my intuition and dropped my consciousness to end the night.

Theresa The last royal member of the Sarkaz. The princess of Kaztel. The strongest monster among the Sarkaz. It is said that if she got serious, she could turn the situation around and reach a stalemate with the Regent who has seized power. A person who remembers every Sarkaz, every subject she has met and seen.

"You" A Sarkaz reincarnator. Has no knowledge of the original work. Like many Sarkaz, doesn't have the luxury of a name. That's how Sarkaz in Kaztel apparently are. Raised in the slums, lives in the slums, and had his mind warped after meeting Theresa. Accustomed to slum life but afraid of Oripathy, so lives keeping Originium and Arts units at a distance. Catchphrase is Love & Peace.

Sarkaz A silver-haired, red-horned Sarkaz. At this time, still nameless. The favorite.

This is a story from before Rhodes was born. From when it was still an organization called Babel. Events before Reunion was born.