Chapter 370: Penacony Arc 『 Part Sixty-Five 』, Lost Generation part 4
「 "I'm here for the Watchmaker's Legacy... and that's it. I think I've been honest enough."
Welt's gaze darkened. "Are you still unwilling to reveal your true identity?"
Acheron shook her head gently. "It is not a lack of will, but a lack of means… The path I have walked is long; the burdens laid upon this body cannot be explained in a few words. Everyone has a past they find difficult to voice, secrets they are reluctant to show… Just as I do not press you on why the Astral Express wanders the galaxy carrying a 'Stellaron'."
"…" Welt fell silent.
As she spoke, Acheron turned back with a look of concern. "Is she alright? That Memokeeper… did she do anything?"
Welt nodded. "She is not a threat. Let us return to our previous topic. Whether you gain my trust depends on how much you are willing to disclose."
"To find that legacy, I have visited various dreamscapes and conducted many investigations since checking into Penacony. During that time, I came into contact with many guests. Through this process, I gradually realized… Penacony's secrets… may be closely related to the 『 Trailblaze 』."
"Therefore, I have come to seek your assistance. I lack sufficient evidence, but I wish to propose a possibility: the source of all tragedy lurks within the Family. If you are willing to trust me… we can find the facts to prove it together."
Acheron looked up at the man before her. "Mr. Welt, I believe you reached the same conclusion long ago."
Welt tentatively accepted that Acheron harbored no ill intent, and Acheron was willing to share her findings. However, before proceeding, they would need to order a few drinks and find a secluded place. 」
「 ..... 」
〜Mob Psycho 100 World〜
Steam swirled within the newly opened ramen shop. Reigen and Mob were hunched over, focused intently on slurping their noodles. Dimple floated within the rising heat of the miso soup like a piece of green jelly on the verge of melting.
"Closely related to the '『 Trailblaze 』'? Doesn't that mean it involves those three seniors from the Express Crew?"
Reigen set down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth.
"Hey, hey… you don't think the real power behind the Family is actually some predecessor from the Express, do you?"
"It's not impossible. Don't you humans love that kind of drama? You know, the crew braves countless dangers to uncover the truth, only to find out the final boss is their own master or mentor…"
"Where did you learn that from?"
Reigen shot Dimple a side-eye, his tone clipped.
"I was just speculating wildly; don't take it seriously. After all, to walk the path of the '『 Trailblaze 』' means the will of those three seniors must be beyond reproach. I'd rather believe they're dead than think they've been corrupted by the Family."
"Ho-ho… that's hard to say."
Dimple curled his lip, hovering smugly in front of Reigen's forehead.
"Humans are the most fickle race. No matter how steadfast a person's will… they might hold the path of 『 Trailblaze 』 for ten years, or a hundred… but what about a thousand? Can you guarantee that? People change… I see that much clearer than you do, Reigen. Take that brat Aventurine, for example—he follows the IPC on the path of 『 Preservation 』 yet his methods are all schemes and deception… completely at odds with an upright 『 Preservation 』. The IPC has its own Emanators of Preservation; the fact that they employ someone so disconnected from the concept shows that even the IPC's perspective is shifting."
Dimple's grin widened.
"If a massive corporation is like that, what can you expect from three ordinary Nameless?"
—
「 At the same time, Hotel in the real world—
Black Swan's voice echoed through the darkness.
"I have watched her for a long time. Our first 'invitation' was in the hotel's banquet hall."
"She just sat in one corner keeping silent, chugging down a couple cups of Wake the Heck Up... I told her it's a pungent, bitter beverage, not the taste of sweet dreams — only for people allergic to SoulGlad. And she said..."
Acheron: "Is that so? To my palate… they are no different."
Black Swan entered a hotel room, glancing around. The space was empty.
"The guest rooms in reality are unexpectedly austere…" Black Swan remarked softly. "…Just like your outward appearance, Miss Acheron."
Her gaze locked onto an exquisite piece of craftsmanship. The invitation from the Family had been left out in the open on the table by Acheron.
"A stroke of luck. This music box—the invitation received by the Annihilation Gang… memories of you do not belong to you alone. I know much, and I prophesy further—with a little persuasion, even the dead can speak."
Black Swan held her breath. The moment her fingertips brushed the gilded surface of the music box, the entire room felt as though it were submerged in a shimmering lake. The pendulum began to stretch and warp; the oil paintings on the walls twisted. A faint sound seemed to emanate from the music box.
The voices of Duke Inferno and his progeny drifted through the memory. Black Swan was not surprised; these were the initial memories of when the invitation was delivered… hazy and brief. The focus was what came next—the part concerning Acheron.
Black Swan kept her eyes closed, but a moment later her brow furrowed as she sensed a sudden anomaly.
…In the memory, there was no sound at all.
"██████████ ██████ ████████████████ ████████"
"The memory after that... is blank? How is that possible... This music box fell into Acheron's hands, and she brought it to Penacony — that's a fact, and that's how it should have gone... but along the way..." 」
「 ..... 」
〜OVERLORD World〜
(How can this be? Does Acheron's own memory possess some kind of mechanism similar to defensive magic, preventing a Memokeeper's scrutiny?)
(But that doesn't make sense. Black Swan wasn't peering into Acheron herself; she was targeting her belongings. No matter how tight her personal defenses are, she couldn't possibly extend that protection to an object, could she?)
(That woman… just what is she…)
Ainz sat upon his throne, lightly resting his hand against his forehead. He had just been trying to recall the words Acheron had spoken to Stelle in the dreamscape, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember.
Furthermore… even her face was becoming blurred in his memory.
(Strange. Since when did my memory become so poor?)
Though he felt a sense of unease, Ainz didn't dwell on it. However, his small gesture of touching his forehead immediately drew the concern of the other Guardians—especially Albedo, who rushed to his side and took his arm.
"Ainz-Sama! Are you feeling unwell? Shall I arrange for you to rest in your quarters?"
"It is nothing, Albedo. However, I do have a question for you."
"A question?"
Albedo blinked for a second, but immediately regained her usual elegant composure.
"Please, Ainz-Sama, ask whatever you wish."
"Hmm… what sort of methods do you think Acheron used to block Black Swan's prying eyes?"
—