Published at 10th of April 2019 11:03 pm

Chapter 36. The Night of The Broken

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The night of the Warriors death was almost horrifyingly silent. The mission was a success, which called for a celebration, but I suppose that couldnt really be a thing with the amount of blood it took to achieve this. I stayed in the stables as usual, with a book in hand, until the saint came over to meet me with a body drenched in sweat.

"Mr. Murderer? So you were here after all."

Something was off. But I really didnt care enough to find out more about it. Since I was born I had never taken interest in a person other than myself. Due to this, I wasnt very happy about the saints surprise visit.

"The way to find the right answer?"

I answered her lazily as I kept reading.

"Who knows. Itd be different based on the problem at hand, wouldnt you think? The easiest method would be something close to the sieve of Eratosthenes. Its the easiest method of finding prime numbers. Its quite simple. You just net out the numbers that arent prime numbers. Youll be left with the right answers by the end. Process of elimination works quite well."

Because I could not kill, I loosened the definition of death. I tried putting the societal death as a form of death. The only reason why this plan succeeded was luck.

As a person who chose to die, I didnt have any particular desire to live. This "hero hunt" was only a form of entertainment for me. The saint stayed silent even when I was thinking all this.

This is why conversations were boring. The responses of others were extremely slow compared to my thought process. It almost felt like I was living in a world of water. I saw the saint open her mouth and realized that she was about to ask another question.

"If the Warrior didnt choose death What were you planning to do? Were you actually going to erupt the volcano?"

"Who knows? I couldnt even make the volcano erupt using the method I told him. I cant deliver things underneath the volcano."

If there was no empty space underground, the delivery wouldnt go through. Well, its not like there was no way to make the volcano erupt, but still.

"Then Would you have given up?"

"No. The reason why magma explodes is because theres pressure building up from the inside. It doesnt even have to be pressure from under the magma. I just need to apply sudden pressure to the magma. If I wanted the volcano to explode, I wouldnt have even ordered water."

The level one ability of Heart of Gold already had infinite possibilities. I could sink a ship by ordering a huge amount of goods on it, or I could destroy a building in a similar manner. I continued talking.

"This is all just a theory in the end. The volcano might not have even erupted back then, causing my plans to be jeopardized. But I just need to change the equation a little bit or use a different method when something like that happens. In fact, I dont even need to cause the volcano to erupt."

"There was no need?"

I confessed everything to the frowning saint.

"I couldve exploded a sector in the town with a bomb, then threatened the Warrior with the villagers. The result of this wouldve been the same. I just used the volcano for artistic value."

"Just for that"

Because I could, I did. That was all.

"'Taking hostages'. There really are no better ways to kill heroes, dont you think? People like the Warrior never hesitate to give their lives for other people. I dont understand it myself, but I assume theres some kind of logic involved with their line of thought. Well, but then again, they might not be thinking logically at all."

"I see"

The saint listened to me quietly, then declared something with a loud voice.

"I forbid you from taking hostages from now on."

"Why?"

It wasnt like Id have any problems with that, but it didnt make sense. Even when I understood the thought process of the saint, I thought it was quite strange. The saint spoke to me with a desperate tone.

"Its not right to play around with a persons life. Please stop it."

"Youre such a hypocrite. Didnt you take part in killing Romeo? Dont try to ignore your own sins."

The saint responded to my reproach as such.

"Whos Romeo?"

She asked me this with blurred eyes, as if she had become a different person altogether.

"You sure youve slept enough?"

"Im completely fine. Slept enough."

How strange. Her eyes were sick for a person who had slept, and her forehead had drops of sweat streaming down it.

"Romeo Smith. That was the Warriors name. Remember?"

"I dont know anyone like that"

A blank response void of any emotion. I realized something was terribly wrong, and began to relay more information to her.

"The undying. Sword dancer. The Warrior. His name was Romeo Smith. An American. He was one of the members of the heros party, and was also your former comrade. The person who loved you."

"Youre saying quite a lot of strange things."

The saint smiled like a sickly patient.

"Youre the one who needs more sleep, huh, Mr. Murderer? The Warriors name isnt Romeo Smith, its ."

What the hell is that name? I heard it, but I couldnt even begin to try to pronounce it. It was almost as if the translator was returning broken text back to me. I realized the weight of the situation, and contacted Necro immediately. A bit later, the man ran towards us with a clatter.

"Morto"

Necro uttered the saints name with a saddened voice as he came up next to her. I could see that he was desperately trying to hide his face that seemed to be on the verge of tears.

This wasnt like him.

The saint didnt seem to notice that though, and asked an innocent question to Necro.

"What is it?"

"Eh? Its nothing, its nothing"

Necro spoke to her with a soft and caring voice, as if he was taking care of a small child.

"You must be tired. You should get some sleep."

"Im not that sleepy Ive already slept enough as a matter of fact."

"Still, go sleep some more."

"Alright, then"

The saint turned to me and waved her arms.

"Mr. Murderer, please have a good night. Ill see you tomorrow."

I watched her quietly, then eventually waved back with a kind smile.

*

At a table on the first floor of the inn. Necro explained to me that this condition of hers began about two years ago.

"Autobiographical memory distortion, was it? The condition is pretty damn strong for her, though."

"Is that so?"

Memory isnt perfect. Humans were made to remember only the happy things in life, and occasionally reformat certain memories in life. Then what about Mortos ability?

[Total Recall].

It was abnormal to have perfect memory as a human. It wasnt natural. Even my brain, the Palace of Memory, wasnt able to recall everything that I see and hear perfectly. The saints ability was closer to an error in this world.

That was because perfect memory would make someone be able to recall the worst of the worst memories in perfect condition. This was both a great advantage and a disadvantage. No, it was a flaw that couldnt be fixed.

"Just think about it. You cant forget horrid memories that you desperately want to forget. A person like that has no choice but to go crazy. Even meds cant fix something like this. Dont worry too much about it, I guess? This wont affect our mission one bit."

That horrid memory that Necro was talking about couldnt be Romeo Smiths death. It was something darker than that. Something that was dark and unsightly enough to render the saint into this state. I didnt bother asking any more though. A failure of a product like me never had any interest in other people in the first place. Such things were worthless. I just hoped that Necro would get done with this talk as fast as possible. I half-listened to Necros story, then interrupted him in the middle of his story.

"I get it. So its a form of memory distortion?"

The saint loses her memory of a person when someone close to her dies. Because the death of those she didnt know didnt make her sad. Because the deaths of those on the other side of the world didnt matter to her.

Thats good.

Because Im already dead, because Im a dead person, shed never forget about me.

Well

I suppose that doesnt matter, does it.

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