Memory (2)
Miro could not believe it.
'He's really going to kill me?'
But the look in Gaold's eyes as he stared down at her was fiercer than any villain she had ever faced.
'This has to be a lie.'
She had always believed that even if the whole world abandoned her, Gaold would not.
Even though she could not accept his love, that one fact had been a tremendous comfort...
"This is a lie!"
Only when Gaold carved Miro out of his heart did that truth become sharp and undeniable.
"Diieee!"
Clutching his throat and applying Air Press, Miro could no longer stay still.
"Guh!"
The incarnation of the Thousand‑Hand Guanyin struck Gaold with a speed invisible to the eye.
Gaold's body trembled as if from vibration and flew left, rolling across the floor.
Miro ground her teeth and rose.
'I blocked it.'
Through her mind she felt a solid defensive wall—so firm she hardly felt as if she'd struck a person at all.
"Miro..."
Had he come to his senses?
With his limbs pressed to the ground, Gaold lifted his head, and for an instant a gentle light flickered in his eyes.
"Gaolddddd—"
Before the name was finished, his face contorted again and he charged forward at terrifying speed.
"You have to stop him!"
Gangnan shouted to Jullu.
"Stop him?"
It was a clash between someone who had reached the Breaking of the Precepts in a human body and the cutting edge of the era.
"How can we stop him?"
As Gangnan turned, realizing the reality, a massive radiance burst into view.
Paaaang!
A new crater formed inside the first, and two shadows flowed like ink.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Palms the size of tens of meters slammed down on Gaold again and again, pressing into his body.
But his Vacuum Press was also one of the strongest defensive magics in the world.
"Aaaaah!"
If she unleashed the full force of her wrath, the surrounding area would explode—but Gangnan and Jullu would die with it.
That was why they still stood in place, watching the fight.
"You idiot!"
Miro—who never let her emotions show—shouted with all her heart.
"Pull yourself together!"
Because he was Gaold.
The ground split with a thunderous crack, and where the Thousand‑Hand Guanyin had struck, Gaold doubled over.
The Vacuum Press still held, but the blow had registered.
His hair blanched, and cursed nerves shot pain beyond imagining through his body.
Seeing that weakened Miro's heart again, but she could now roughly grasp the situation.
"Enough. Don't act like I'm thrilled—do you think that gives you the right to treat me like this?"
"It's because of you... If it hadn't been for you... I wouldn't be in this pain."
"Who told you to like me? It was you in the end! You loved me of your own accord...!"
The Thousand‑Hand Guanyin's barrage, powered by Miro's fury, hammered Gaold like a torrential downpour.
"So listen!"
The final, strongest strike landed.
"You can just love me—that's all!"
Kuuuuuuuuuu!
A barrage totaling over a hundred million blows collapsed the ground with a force nearing a natural disaster.
"That crazy woman!" Gangnan lunged, but an enormous gust threw her back.
"Kraaah!"
Gaold, shedding tears of blood, howled in agony as Miro pushed through the gale and ran.
"I never needed someone like you from the start."
She pressed her index and middle fingers together; the Thousand‑Hand Guanyin floating in the sky mirrored the same mudra.
She meant to pierce Gaold's throat.
"Fighting for me?"
The thought flickered through her.
'Why am I angry? Isn't this a good thing?'
Gaold breaking the precepts mattered to Miro—and if it came without any cloying courtship, all the better.
'Better than some weakling.'
Knowing that, Gaold would have chosen this outcome without hesitation.
"This is irritating."
She couldn't hold back her rage.
"Just die already!"
Gangnan yelled.
"No!"
The joined middle and index fingers dove at Gaold's throat like a blade.
But when they failed to pierce and abruptly stopped, the Thousand‑Hand Guanyin's incarnation froze mid‑motion.
Kaaaaaaang!
The sound of that sudden halt felt like the sky itself being split.
"You bastard..."
Miro gently clasped Gaold's throat, bowed her head, and her shoulders trembled.
"What is this."
Tears streamed down her face as she looked at him again.
"You promised you'd protect me for life."
The reason Miro could not become a Buddha.
It might have been nothing more than a hairline crack in her heart, carved by Gaold—but...
"You said you loved me."
A hollow emptiness opened in Miro's chest.
Jullu said, "You must have leaned on him without even knowing it. Even while you were fighting the world, trying to uphold your principles, you thought Gaold was there."
Gaold's body trembled.
"Gaaaah!"
At the moment Miro felt the rampaging Spirit Zone, her heart dropped...
"Ugh!"
He finally spat a mouthful of blood, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.
"Gaold!"
While Gangnan rushed to check on him, Miro stared at Gaold as if dazed.
Night fell and a bonfire was lit on the beach.
Gaold lay unconscious; the three of them watched the flames in silence.
"We were lucky."
Jullu said, "He was already exhausted from fighting the demons. If Gaold had been at full strength, Miro, you would be dead."
It had been an indisputable fight for survival.
Recalling the desperate battle, Miro frowned and raised her head.
"I understand he was maintaining the Breaking of the Precepts—but how could he be so blind? Was it self‑hypnosis or something?"
She wanted it to be that.
"No. Gaold didn't do anything to himself. As I said before..."
Jullu glanced at the sleeping Gaold.
"He stopped loving you. Love and hatred are separated by a hair's breadth. It's actually impressive that Gaold managed to keep his feelings for you even while suffering that pain."
Gangnan added, "I tried to stop him too, but it was useless. How do you stop what someone's heart wants? Anyway, there's nothing for you here. Just leave."
"Leave?"
If Gaold could fight longer by using the power of hatred, following Gangnan's advice might be best.
'Gaold... doesn't love me.'
Lost in tangled thoughts, Miro heard Gaold's voice.
"Miro."
When she turned, Gaold was calmly looking up at the sky.
Shirone spread his radiant wings and raced across the vast plains of the southern continent.
There it was.
Beyond the grasslands where wild animals ran free stood a sand‑colored city.
Having teleported away from Tormia, Shirone had arrived in the southern continent's kingdom of Kesia.
Because the demons hadn't reached it yet, he could still use the teleport terminal—a convenience—but he'd come mostly because of what Nade had told him before he left.
"You received an investment from Fermi?"
The night before, Nade had dragged Shirone out from in front of the tavern restroom and told him what was happening.
"Yeah. But there was a condition. He said he'd let me meet you, and he named a weapons shop in Kesia."
Nade hurriedly added, "Of course I refused. No matter how important the investment, I won't sell out a friend. But..."
"But?"
"He said it was fine. He wanted to drop the condition and make the contract. He didn't even ask me to pass along this message."
Shirone propped his chin on his hand.
"Hmm, very Fermi of him."
"Right. He probably figured you'd hear it anyway. Sharing information doesn't hurt."
As always, Fermi's knack for exploiting human psychology for profit stayed the same.
"Alright. I'll go take a look."
"Really?"
"You've got to use the terminal to get to the Ivory Tower anyway. I'll stop by on the way. I'm curious why they want to see me."
When Shirone arrived in Kesia's capital, the scene was far different from what he'd expected.
'What is this...'
Though the demons hadn't come, lawlessness reigned as if they did.
"Muahahaha! Die! Die!"
Bandits in carriages rained arrows down on the townsfolk.
Their eyes were wild—either insane or high on drugs.
"Please, save me!"
Most residents had taken shelter in their homes, but a barefoot girl had nowhere to hide.
"One caught!"
Shirone caught an arrow headed for the crouching girl with his hand.
"Huh? Hehe, did I see wrong?" Even faced with an obviously magical event, the bandits dismissed it as a drug‑induced hallucination.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Wow! Prey, prey!"
They drooled as they took aim again, and Shirone fired a photon cannon.
With a boom the carriage exploded and bodies rolled across the ground—but the bandits didn't flinch.
"The world's spinning, it's spinning."
Shirone ignored them and checked on the girl.
"You okay? What's happening in this city?"
"I... I didn't do anything wrong." Watching her trembling back, Shirone saw injection marks on her arm.
"You don't mean you—"
"I'll explain," said a voice from behind. A neatly dressed man stood there.
He bowed politely.
"You must be Arian Shirone. We've been expecting you. I will be your guide from here."
Shirone, whose first impression of the city had been bad, followed without returning the courtesy.
'This is absurd.'
As he walked behind the man, the city's true condition was worse than he'd imagined.
Everyone was doped up and vandalism was rampant.
"Took over the whole city with drugs?"
"We merely provided what they wanted. The fear of war, the pain of poverty—those originate in the brain. If you can give pleasure, what's wrong with that?"
"No. It's unforgivable."
"Of course you'd say that. It'd be best to speak with Fermi directly."
The man stopped before a colossal building crowned with the golden‑wheel emblem.
Inside it was as clean as another world; not a single addict in sight.
'What on earth is he thinking?' As in their school days, Fermi's mind was always unpredictable.
They took the elevator to the seventeenth floor and stepped into a corridor laid with red carpet.
Pushing open the door at the end revealed a vast office framed by full‑length windows.
Even the five great houses of the Ivory Tower weren't as flashy as this.
"You've come, Shirone."
Shirone didn't recognize the man until he spoke, lounging on the sofa with his legs crossed.
"Fermi?"
His hair dyed gaudily and an unkempt beard gave him the unmistakable look of a drug lord.
"Sit. You look well. No need for pleasantries between us. Ah, send in some tea."
"Yes."
After the man closed the door and left, Shirone strode up to Fermi.
"What did you want to see me about?"
"You've never been this impatient before, have you? Don't you like the city?"
"Answer the question."
Fermi, smiling as always, flicked a custom chip with his thumb.
"Let's do business, Shirone."