"As I explained, we start the search today."
Hayul’s voice rang out.
A voice completely different from usual—deep and heavy.
Even the others, who were used to Hayul speaking politely to the students, grew serious at his solemn tone.
"The plan is simple. Yu Siwoo, who has the search ability, and three escorts will conduct the search. The main force will wait at a slight distance. Any questions?"
"...Why does the main force have to stay apart?"
"Beasts have intelligence too. If we’re all clustered together, they won’t even approach, which defeats the purpose of searching."
Ah, that makes sense.
It really was a simple plan, so simple that I wondered if we even needed this briefing.
I wasn’t the only one with that thought—one of the other attendees asked Hayul,
"The plan seems too simple. Are you sure it’s enough as is?"
"The reason it’s simple is because we haven’t fully tested Yu Siwoo’s search ability yet. Consider this a trial run."
"...I didn’t think of that. Sorry."
A trial run, huh.
Well, I *did* say I’d finish it quickly, but...
Realistically, there was no way it’d be that easy.
"Is it intuition? How far can you sense?"
"...I’m not sure. This is my first time using my ability in a place like this."
"Don’t worry too much. We’ll help you."
"Yes, thank you."
The people looking at Siwoo wore soft, affectionate smiles, as if gazing at a cute little kid.
...That’s annoying.
Well, whatever.
People here probably don’t get to go outside much.
So maybe it’s natural for them to look at young kids like Siwoo with that kind of expression.
But still. That look pisses me off.
What’s with that face?
That face like they’re looking at a pretty little brother—what the hell is that?
And why is Siwoo smiling about it?!
Betrayal surged through me as I glared at him.
Maybe he sensed my gaze.
Just as he started to turn his head, something slammed into me from behind, and my head jerked down.
W-what the—?!
"Uweeek—!"
"Aww, are you jealous?"
"J-jealous?! It’s not like that!"
"Sure, sure. This big sister knows everything."
"Big sister?! What—?!"
Judging by age alone, she’s probably old enough to be my parents’ generation!
She might *look* young, but I’m not fooled.
Most of the superhumans in this world are beautiful, for some reason.
I have no idea why that is.
If I asked the author, they’d probably babble something about mana or whatever, so I didn’t even bother.
But the fact remains: most superhumans are gorgeous.
Laila, Spira, Hayul, Amelia, Dorothy.
And the classmates, the teachers at school.
After seeing so many superhumans, I’d started to wonder if they all used some kind of magic to maintain their looks.
...Well, the Weaver Mench kids had weird stuff attached to their bodies, so calling them "handsome" was a stretch.
Anyway.
That’s just how this world is. No matter how pretty she looks—no, how *sisterly* she looks—it’s all just surface-level.
In a society where people often look younger than they are, someone who appears like this is probably just some old—
"Hey, hey. You’re thinking something weird, aren’t you?"
"Mmph-mmph-mmph—!"
"Relax, I’m not trying to flirt with your boyfriend. Your glare is scary, kid."
"B-boyfriend?! He’s not my boyfriend!"
"Yeah, yeah."
Boyfriend? Siwoo and I weren’t at that stage yet.
But what in the world was this…
I tried to deny it fiercely, but no one seemed to believe me.
The woman who had dismissed my words with a wave of her hand ruffled my hair once before turning to chat with the others.
"Alright, everyone. Let’s go. How about we check out our juniors’ skills?"
"Sounds good. Today’s just a warm-up, so we’ll be done quick."
"Already thinking about resting, huh?"
"Like you’re any different."
"Heh, caught me?"
As the crowd dispersed like a receding tide—without so much as a word about the meeting ending—I stood there blankly. Haeul let out a sigh.
"These people never change…"
"…Were they always like this?"
"Yes, well. It was the same atmosphere when I was here too."
This was nothing like what I’d expected.
I’d assumed the front lines would have an incredibly rigid, tense atmosphere.
After all, it was a place where lives could be lost at any moment.
But the reality was… this?
"Isn’t this better than being stiff all the time?"
"…Ah, Commander."
"If everyone’s just trembling in fear of danger that might never come, morale plummets. So I put in a little effort."
A little effort?
Was this the kind of atmosphere the Commander wanted?
As if confirming my thoughts, the Commander watched the departing crowd with a kind expression.
"If you’re always bogged down by minor worries, you’ll never move forward."
"…But aren’t these worries a bit more than minor? They’re life-or-death."
"You think so?"
Normally, I would’ve just brushed off a comment like that.
But this time, I couldn’t let it go. I replied to the Commander.
"In a warzone where death could come at any moment, how can you call that a minor worry? We should be as prepared as—"
"Of course, preparation is important. But, child, there are things beyond our control."
"…Beyond our control?"
His expression remained gentle.
Like the kind face of a grandfather I’d seen as a child.
That aged, warm look made him seem harmless, yet I felt like he was seeing right through me.
"This is the front line, just as you said. Dangerous monsters appear every day, and a moment’s carelessness can be fatal."
"Then all the more reason—!"
"Which is why letting morale sink would be even worse."
Thump. Thump.
As those piercing eyes drew closer, I unconsciously took a step back.
A strange, inexplicable pressure seemed to weigh on me.
"If the sky were to fall, what would you do?"
"I’d hide underground."
"And if the ground gave way?"
"…Why are you even asking that?"
I had no idea what he was getting at.
Frustration flared, and my voice rose without my control.
What was he even talking about?
The sky falling? The ground collapsing? That was impossible.
Even if it did happen, there’d be no way to—
"Exactly."
"…Huh?"
"No matter how much you worry, there’s a limit to what we can solve."
Those piercing eyes locked onto me once more.
…How? Had I said that out loud?
No, that couldn’t be. I hadn’t.
"People often burden themselves with endless worries. Philosophical dilemmas, for instance."
Ever heard of a brain in a vat?
The Commander said that with a laugh.
"Of course, such concerns are interesting in their own way. Fascinating, even... But do you truly think they’re necessary?"
"What do you mean by that...?"
"Let’s suppose, just for a moment, that we really are brains in a vat. Even if that were true, what could a brain in a vat possibly do?"
"..."
A brain in a vat—what could it possibly do?
Even if I realized that every sensation I felt was nothing more than electrical signals from some scientist, a brain trapped in a jar wouldn’t be capable of doing anything. A being that was nothing but a brain couldn’t possibly have any way to act against its creator...
"That’s right. Even if this world were artificial, there’s nothing we could do about it."
The commander still wore that kind, gentle smile.
But I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
It felt like he was seeing straight through me.
Like every thought in the depths of my mind was laid bare.
"So then, are such concerns even worth having? Even if they were true, nothing would change. It would only bring you pain."
"..."
"Your perspective on the world might shift, but the fact that you’re living in it wouldn’t."
Just who was this man?
I stared blankly at the commander.
I’d thought he was just an ordinary, withered old man.
Just one of the author’s background extras.
"It’s the same with this. Sometimes, there are worries you simply can’t resolve. People die here—it’s a battlefield, after all. There’s nothing to be done about that."
Was that why the atmosphere here was like this?
Was that why... such worries were pointless?
We’d been talking about the mood of this place, hadn’t we?
And yet, I felt like he’d just stabbed at the core of my being.
"Oh dear, my apologies. I suppose I talk too much when I meet a young person I can actually converse with. Must be my age."
"...Thanks to that, I’m a bit late."
"I’m sorry about that. If an old man like me held you up, I hope you’ll understand. You should be on your way now."
"Yes. Let’s go."
As I followed Hayul’s instructions and left my seat, the commander’s words still lingered in my mind.
...Pointless worries, he’d said.
"...Hmm."
I hope this helps. Even a little would be good.
The commander muttered to himself, running his hand over the desk.
"There are beings out there that toy with the world—ones that no human perspective could ever hope to judge..."
And to think such a being had been casually reshaping this world’s common sense.
If that wasn’t shocking, then what was?
It meant that all the history and common sense he’d learned since childhood had been twisted by some inhuman force.
He’d never once considered that the event from 500 years ago might have actually happened just a few months prior.
If there was someone who knew that truth. Someone who felt that presence every single day...
Maybe it was only natural that they couldn’t see others as human.
But even knowing that, nothing about him had changed.
Even if his memories had been warped from that point onward, it didn’t change who he was.
"I do hope that boy finds the strength to carry on..."
The only support for a child who’d taken the world’s truth upon himself and was on the verge of breaking.
Only that boy could save the girl.
A sigh escaped him, again and again, in quiet lament.
Tsk.
They say God doesn’t play dice with the universe.
That was true.
He wasn’t playing dice—He was playing tricks.