#jinrui saikyou no jun'ai

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 11

From Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai by Nisioisin

[Previous Chapter]

Words are funny things—sometimes they lose strength through emphasis. Simple example: saying something’s “super amazing” is less powerful than just “amazing.” Shortening “sadist” and “masochist” to “ultra-S” and “ultra-M” makes the words less weighty, and saying you’re “platinum mad” might sound like you’re not actually that angry. On the other hand, saying “simply cannot” makes the sense of denial stronger compared to just saying “cannot.” Basically, if you’re not careful with your emphasis, you could end up sounding real funny. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that Doctor Kitsuregawa’s final experiment, the “Lamp of the Destitute,” was such a breakthrough that you could hardly begin to describe it even with all the emphatic expressions in the world. Call this a paradigm shift, huh… When a true advance in technology or a revolutionary way of thinking turns all of the accepted truths up ‘til that point into nothing but rotting floorboards—into deprecated, useless tech. It’s hard to say whether this experiment’s success was evidence of the power of Doctor Kitsuregawa’s mad-scientist antics, or, to put it mildly, his eccentricity coming to bear (even that “Closet” space suit might have been adopted by space agencies around the world, but it’ll never be the normal standard—I’m sure that would be pretty unprofitable), but it can’t be denied that the “Lamp of the Destitute” and the gaseous life form “Flare” had the power not only to overturn the world as we know it, but also to force humanity out of its position at the top of the evolutionary tree. Well, maybe I have to deny that. If I accepted it, then humanity—and, of course, humanity’s strongest—would lose all meaning; we’d be like abacuses after the arrival of calculators, like LDs after the arrival of DVDs and BDs. Unable to coexist, or rather, lacking a constructive reason to coexist—

“Now, then. I believe most everything should probably be left unsaid at this point—however, quite frankly, Aikawa Jun, I must say I have a rather inconsistent impression of you.”

Inconsistent? After we’d returned to the dining room, she got all standoffish again, and surprised me with that.

“Matsuri has a different opinion, I’m sure, but you seem more… decent than I expected. That is the impression I have of you so far. Yet on the other hand, you seem to be in a much closer position to Doctor Kitsuregawa than me, his rightful successor. I am struggling to decide how to interpret this.”

You’re being pretty damn straightforward and honest with me, aren’t you. But, for my part, I think both of your opinions are true. Well, me being “more decent” than you expected is going to depend on your definition of “decent”—but me being in a close position to Doctor Kitsuregawa is something I’ve been feeling even since I got here.

“So, you understand, then? About the gaseous life form, Flare… We often call it nicknames like ‘Flay’ and ‘Flame,’ but in any case, you understand the significance of the new type of life. And what we are hesitating to do.”

Life form, huh. Scientifically speaking, the definition of life is complicated—the easiest definition is “having the ability to reproduce,” but that could mean computer viruses and worms were alive. You could also say that flames have the power to reproduce themselves; fires spread, catch, and whatnot; it’s tricks of verbiage.

“…Doctor Kitsuregawa—”

The next to speak was Shimegiwa Matsuri.

“—When he remodeled my arm, this is what he said: ‘We should not seek the future of humanity—we should seek what comes after humanity.’ That might be what Flare is. Thinking about it like that, I don’t think I have the right to carelessly do anything with it.”

Hmph. That’s a stiff turn of phrase he used, but to put it another way, he might as well have said, ‘Humanity has gotten old, so let’s exchange it for something new’—just like he exchanged his own body and personality. He essentially tried to bring about the end of humanity; it’s a different approach to apocalypse than Omokage Magokoro, Humanity’s End. I wonder why that old alchemist never got along with my fathers. The normal world is under the impression that a life form to supplant humanity could never come to be, because humanity’s scientific and technological progress has outsped natural evolution. But if that scientific and technological progress itself gave rise to “what comes after”…

“At this point I do not think it necessary, but allow me to go over the outline just in case. I do need to fulfill my duty of explanation, after all, as the second-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa. The ‘Lamp of the Destitute’ is an experiment in producing life beyond humanity—the purpose of creating me, a homunculus, was ‘to make a human using non-human parts,’ and Matsuri’s was about ‘turning the human body into vaporous form.’ Flare, then, is the result of instilling a superior life force into a gaseous body created using non-human materials. You are free to take the word ‘superior’ at face value here.”

Hmm. In other words, it’s “better” than a human’s, huh. If it weren’t, there’d be no reason to hesitate about continuing the research. Ultimately, that’s what this is all about. Second-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa, Hotsure-chan, and Shimegiwa are asking me what to do about the “Lamp of the Destitute,” without considering potential value. I doubt anyone could say they were just kids and cast them aside. After all, no adult could fully appreciate its value, either—depending on what happens next, it could very well put an end to human history, and that’s no exaggeration.

“Of course, that would be the worst-case scenario. But it is by no means a small possibility… Since you are the arbiter of strength, perhaps you have a better understanding of the power of a being capable of existing in gaseous form?”

I’m not the god of strength or whatever, you know… Well, thinking of my fight with Shimegiwa, I guess she’s right. I’ve casually shoved my right hand in my pocket, but this arm is still burned to a crisp—if the rule hadn’t been “whoever falls first loses,” I don’t know how I’d have ended up. …Hotsure-chan. The ‘Lamp of the Destitute’ isn’t stuck, is it? If you wanted to, you could continue the research, right?

“……”

The lack of response was response enough.

“What would you do, Aikawa Jun?”

Shimegiwa sounded like he was trying to back Hotsure-chan up. Well, judging from that defiant look, maybe Shimegiwa didn’t think the ‘Lamp of the Destitute’ was as dangerous as Hotsure-chan did. Me? What would I do, huh… I wonder. There’s an answer I could give you, but I don’t think it’s all that important in the current situation. After all, isn’t it up to second-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa, Hotsure-chan, to decide in the end? It’s hard for me to butt in. Or is your commission actually for me to determine whether this research is in the right or not? I’m not your professor, you know.

“Of course not. I am not trying to force the responsibility onto you. All responsibilities are mine, not simply the duty of explanation. As his second generation, I have undertaken that much from Doctor Kitsuregawa. It is only that… I am not as decisive as he was.”

Or maybe, you can’t get rid of that little thorn in your heart. Well, it was downright miraculous that the first-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa maintained his mental balance at all, so asking his second generation to come to the same decision, the exact same decision as he would have made, would be a pretty unreasonable demand. …If you have doubts, you have the option to abandon the research, don’t you? This was a question I didn’t need to ask, but as someone undertaking a job, it’s a question I wanted to ask anyway—I wanted to hear the answer from Hotsure-chan’s mouth. I wanted to hear her response. If you truly believe that the creation of this new life is bad news, then you should take your senses of ethics and crisis avoidance and smash that flask to pieces, no? If it’s just a candle in the wind.

“…That is something… I do not think… I am able to do.”

It was not an instantaneous answer, nor was it an assertive one—but, it was an answer with a firmness of will. However, it was not for the reasons I expected, like ‘this is the destiny of a scientist,’ or ‘even if it’s dangerous, I can’t discard such valuable research,’ or ‘I can’t let the efforts of first-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa go to waste.’

“Because—to take its life would just be too cruel, wouldn’t it?”

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 7

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 33-37

[Previous Chapter]

Of course, this isn't to say that the true identity of the infamous Doctor Kitsuregawa, the researcher of humans who doesn't give a flute about anyone, is a five-year-old girl; that would be stupid. No matter how you slice it, the timeline wouldn't make sense. When I first heard his name, that mad scientist was already over seventy years old. And the full name I heard wasn't even “Hotsure Kitsuregawa” to begin with, but rather “Motsure Kitsuregawa”. Hotsure and Motsure. I wouldn't go so far as to say those two names are completely unrelated to each other, but there's still no way I'd believe something so idiotic as Doctor Kitsuregawa being a little baby girl.

“Give me a break, Jun Aikawa. We're not trying to pull your leg here—let me explain the situation. Let's go inside and have a nice talk over some coffee.”

As Shimegiwa urged, I entered the Kitsuregawas' house. Part of me expected that a bizarre sight would await me inside, but I was wrong again; it was no different from an ordinary home. There was even a wood-carved bear on top of the shoe shelf. Is this one of those semi-affluent European-style houses? Hey, Shimegiwa-kun, I'd just like to ask; is Doctor Kitsuregawa trying to disguise the fact he's doing research by using this normal-looking house?

“No, there's no point in disguising anything. No one can copy Doctor Kitsuregawa's research anyway, and no one can interfere with it either.”

I see. …Come to think of it, he called Doctor Kitsuregawa “Hotsure-sama” earlier, didn't he. Hmm? I get that he'd want to pay respect to the man who developed him (though, to be honest, if it were me whose arm got remade into flames, there would be hell to pay, not respect)(1), but I have a hard time understanding why he'd use “sama” to refer to one of Doctor Kitsuregawa's relatives (grandchildren?), especially a little girl. It's not like she's a child of a noble family or something... Could this kid really be Doctor Kitsuregawa? No, there's no way... While I was thinking, I was shown to the dining room. Needless to say, it was an ordinary dining room. If you lead a life like mine, it's actually more unusual to be inside a normal home, so this run-of-the-mill stuff was quite fresh for me. But, where does the research happen?

“The second floor, generally. I hope to show it to you later—that is, if you accept my job.”

The little girl—Hotsure-chan—spoke falteringly, and sat down in one of the dining room chairs. Shimegiwa headed to the kitchen; it seemed he was really going to make me coffee. Maybe he'll turn his arm into flames and boil the water in an instant. Imagining that, I sat down across from Hotsure-chan. So? Where's Grandpa? Or Daddy or Mommy.

“Where should I begin...”

Hotsure-chan looked up at the ceiling, with a troubled expression most unbecoming of a little girl.

“I never had a daddy or a mommy. And just recently, Grandpa—”

She pointed at the ceiling.

“—Went up into the sky.”

Oh? The news itself was of little surprise, and I was able to accept it. I wouldn't want to spout something pretentious like “life and death are just two sides of the same coin”. Those words would be as empty as the sky.(2) Even I'm not so immature as to tell a child something cynical like “I'm sure Doctor Kitsuregawa didn't go up into the sky, he went deep under the ground”. So, how'd he die? He doesn't seem like the type to die of old age. Hotsure-chan turned her gaze, her piercing gaze, toward me.

“A successful experiment.”

Now, that was an answer I had trouble processing. A successful experiment? Not a failed experiment?

“Yes, a success—Grandpa didn't fail.”

What a thing to say. Makes him sound like an inventor like Edison. What was it, again; I have not failed, I have succeeded in finding a way in which it doesn't work—right? Now that I think about it, Edison seems like a pretty eccentric man... I wonder what kind of person Doctor Kitsuregawa was.

“Sorry for the wait... black is fine, right?”

Shimegiwa placed a cup of coffee in front of me, then sat down next to Hotsure-chan. Even for a young seventeen-year-old, his demeanor seemed almost parental. It's true that I can't read interpersonal relationships very well with my mind-reading technique, but I wonder. Judging from his work in the kitchen and how familiar he seemed with things, Shimegiwa must live here... But a teenage boy and a little girl in the single digits living alone in a house in a residential area makes me feel a bit uneasy. Maybe it's a sense of incongruity—pondering that, I chugged the cup of coffee I'd been given. Yeah, that was good.

“We ought to give you a detailed explanation to start things off, right? Of course, what we say here is strictly confidential. Doctor Kitsuregawa's honor is at stake.”

Honor? Honor, huh. I wouldn't think a peerless mad scientist would possess anything so splendid as honor... Well, if you say so, I won't tell anyone. Doctor Kitsuregawa's death is a secret, right?

“Death... He's dead in the physical sense. However, mentally, he's still alive.”

As he was talking, Shimegiwa moved his gaze toward Hotsure-chan—Hotsure-chan looked fixedly at me.

“Hotsure-sama has taken over as Doctor Kitsuregawa.”

As his successor, you mean? Like, she's taken over Doctor Kitsuregawa's research? ...No, there's no way a five-year-old child could do something like that. Even I couldn't have done that when I was five... When I was five, I'd already turned into a good-for-nothing kid, now that you mention it. In light of that, I guess I can't categorically deny anything.

“I haven't taken over in the way you're thinking, Jun Aikawa. I said earlier that Grandpa went up into the sky, but to be precise, his spirit did not go into the sky.”

Hotsure-chan pointed at the ceiling once again. Obviously, she didn't seem to mean that Doctor Kitsuregawa had gone to Hell—next, Hotsure-chan turned her finger toward her head. It was the pose you make when shooting yourself with a pistol.

“He's inside my head.”

Even then, I still didn't get it, so I have no choice but to admit that I was being dull. Inside her head. In a broad sense, that could still be a metaphor for taking over his research... However, the nuance seemed  rather different—Hotsure-chan's way of speaking, as well as the dignity I could feel from her presence; I could even say it felt uncanny. I looked at Shimegiwa. You explain.

“It's not that hard to understand. Well, in a way it is, but what happened is simple—you know that Doctor Kitsuregawa did research that involved tampering with the human mind as a physical object, right?”

I know. I nodded—I won't make the reference out loud, but I don't suppose Shimegiwa knows about the Niounomiya siblings. ...Hm? So, what you're saying is... Really, is that what you're saying?

“That's right. On the brink of death, Doctor Kitsuregawa inserted his mind into Hotsure-sama's head—technically speaking, it was a transfer of memories and knowledge.”

Footnotes: (1) In the Japanese there's a play on words with 敬意を払う(to pay respect) and 薙ぎ払う(to mow down), since both incorporate the verb 払う (harau), to pay. (2) In the Japanese she uses a word for “false/hypocritical” (空々しい) that comes from the character for “sky” (空).

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 3

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 15-24

[Previous Chapter]

Urbanization advanced throughout Japan, and visualization—or rather, surveillance—advanced alongside it; so, you might think it would be harder to find deserted places to battle without people noticing, but oddly enough, even cities have their crevices. As skyscrapers proliferate, so do shadows...? Maybe not shadows, but rather darkness... In any case, no matter how the times change, places for people like me and Kouta to live continue to exist. For which I'm grateful. And so do the conditions for lively youngsters like this Matsuri Shimegiwa boy to be born. The scope of that territory might actually be getting wider—all in balance, I suppose. Well, in spite of my careful analysis of modern times, the place where Shimegiwa took me wasn't a dark, narrow alley or a subway tunnel; it was the sunlit roof of some official institution or municipal office building. It was a sloped roof, not a flat one. The place he chose as our battlefield was deserted, and it was out of the public view, but it was pretty big. I kinda like that.

“I'm a bit surprised. You're not like I heard... uh, you're not like I expected.”

Said Shimegiwa, turning around after we'd arrived. The fierce stare of those sanpaku eyes hadn't changed.

“Humanity's strongest contractor, Jun Aikawa; I thought you might kick me as soon as I turned my back... I didn't think you'd just let me guide you here without taking any action at all.”

Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations—I mean, is that what people think of me? Is this like a game of intergenerational telephone, where I end up sounding incomprehensibly violent to the new generation? Maybe this is an after-effect from when I was cut off from work worldwide. I'm sure Kouta would laugh out loud and say, “Incomprehensibly violent. Doesn't that describe you perfectly, my dear friend?” But there's no way I could just let that assessment stand, so I continued: I'm kinda disappointed myself. When you said you wanted to change locations, I thought you might take me to a dead-end alley where a swarm of your friends were waiting. I got all excited.

“......”

Is he mad? That's not what I really thought (though I was surprised he took me to a public office building), I just said it as a light provocation; this guy's got a hot temper. Is that because he's young? Well, his hairstyle does look pretty angry, after all. I was so distracted by his puffed-up hair that I hadn't really noticed until now, but he's wearing some pretty flashy clothes, too. He made fun of my redness, but he's silver all over. It was all arranged with good fashion sense, but it looked like a difficult outfit to pull off.

“...What?”

Oh, nothing. So, shall we begin? Whoever falls down first loses. I have another job to get to, so let's settle this quickly. You have a handicap? Like fighting with one hand, or fighting with just my tongue.

“I don't need one. Don't worry about your next job... You'll have to cancel it anyway.”

Nicely said.

“I mean, don't you want to ask why I've challenged you?”

Do I have to ask? That stuff's a pain in the ass, so I thought I'd skip it... And it doesn't matter.

“I see. So that's the famous Jun Aikawa from the rumors... No matter who challenges you, you never refuse. How very gallant.”

It's not that cool a reason. I just don't feel like scrutinizing everything about a reckless idiot like you—hey, now. Bring it on. Or do you want me to come at you?

“To show respect for your legend, I yield the first move to you.”

Oh, okay. You'll dampen my spirits if you treat me like an old lady, though. I'll lose motivation. Well then, time to snip a young sprout. Here comes the countdown—three, two, one, Zerozaki!

“Oof...!”

I unleashed a no-motion high kick with my hands in my pockets, trying to make his head part ways with his torso, but he defended with both hands—setting aside the high kick, maybe keeping my hands in my pockets was a bit too insulting? Even so, a ordinary opponent would have gotten his head plucked off along with both arms, but let alone that, this guy managed to grab my ankle. Wow, nice going.

“Hah. You're no big deal after all!”

It didn't entirely seem like a bluff. Still holding onto my foot, Shimegiwa returned my kick. Kicking me with such unstable posture didn't pose much of a threat, but as if to return the favor, it was a high kick. I was taller, but he was flexible enough to aim for my temple with his toes. Since his stance was somewhat impractical, I could either avoid it, or catch it the same way he did, but I wanted to try taking it directly. I should be able to estimate his power level from that. As such, I didn't move an inch, and Shimegiwa's kick connected cleanly with my head. I was surprised. Well, I mean, it'd be exceptionally stupid for me to be surprised by the fact I got kicked, but still, I was amazed. What I mean is, his kick was much more powerful than I expected. It spun me around, with the beautiful leg he was holding as the axis. I made a whole rotation, and was able to land cleanly.

“Purposefully taking a hit; you can only look down on someone so much, humanity's strongest. If you fell down from that kick, it'd be my win, you know?”

Sorry, sorry, I underestimated you. That'd be fine by me, of course—in that case, you'd be humanity's strongest from tomorrow on. But if you want to decide based on that kick, you'd be looking down on me too much. Ready, now? I slammed the foot he was holding directly downward.

“...! Oo...uh...”

I put enough force into it to rip Shimegiwa's arm out of its socket, but as I might have expected, he responded by letting go of my foot. Unlike me, it seemed he knew when it'd be dangerous to take a hit.

“I'm happy to see you're going all out now, humanity's strongest!”

He really did look happy. Does he have battle mania? If so, then we ought to congratulate each other; or maybe, pity each other... however, the middle of a fight is no place for a hug. So, I said to him: I still haven't decided whether or not to go all out—but I am deadly serious.

“Aaah... I see, I see.”

It was more of a threat than a provocation, but Shimegiwa smiled even wider—this really brings me back. The world used to be teeming with guys like him. I've been squaring off with a lot of aliens lately, so I want to cherish these times when I can fight humans.

“So I can challenge you with the intent to kill too, then?”

Sure, but are you okay with that? It's not like you've been ordered to kill me, right? After I pointed that out, it was Shimegiwa's turn to look surprised. What's surprising about that? Maybe the fact that Jun Aikawa's signature move is mind-reading isn't as well-known as I thought, these days. Someone asked you to pick a fight with me; I could tell that much from looking at your face when you kicked me.

“Hmph... Is that so. After all that stuff you said, are you really interested in my goal, humanity's strongest?”

I said it didn't matter, didn't I? It's not like you'll be able to reach it anyway. That was just something I could tell by looking at your face—and besides, my mind-reading isn't telepathy; I don't know any details beyond that.

“...Well, it's true that someone won't be able to reach their goal—'cause I'm gonna kill you right now!”

Shimegiwa wound up a punch. This time, the blow used all the power he could muster from a straight line that ran through his torso, making use of his entire body. It wasn't clear whether he was aiming to kill, but he was definitely going all out—the opposite of me. I see; if I took that hit, it might be over for me... but I lacked the finesse to avoid it. As such, I decided to intercept his fist—that is, I smashed my fist into his. Although I fired mine after his, my punch is speedy, and I easily made it in time. So, how about the force? Is my fist gonna break, or is Shimegiwa's fist gonna break?

“Guhh... Ah! A-are you fucking crazy!?”

The result was, neither of our fists broke, but we both sent each other flying; Shimegiwa cursed me out, but didn't flinch, and came rushing at me intensely. That's not just a compliment or a turn of phrase, it was really intense; at least, in terms of speed. He didn't seem to be very dextrous, and looked to have trouble balancing his power and speed. I easily handled the fast rush—I didn't politely meet his blow with a blow of my own again; I knocked him off his feet with a single hook. ...Oh, by the way, I have trouble balancing power and speed too. So either way, I give everything I have.

“Die!”

Nevertheless, Shimegiwa didn't retreat, and with a cry, he moved to kick me in the ankle. I didn't know what the “Die!” thing was about (I hadn't been told that in a while, so I had a hard time figuring it out), but aiming for my ankle was a good strategy—since the rule was whoever fell down first loses, all he had to do was play the sickle-weasel and knock me over.(1) In that sense, his low kick really looked like a sickle. Should I field this one too? Should I intercept his kick with a kick? I could also plant my feet down and endure it, but I felt like I'd been on the receiving side for a while, and that's not like me. I felt like I was playing the role of sparring partner for this energetic youngster—this isn't some post-retirement job or leisure pastime. My thinking changed, and before the arch of Shimegiwa's foot hit my ankle, I landed a direct thrust on his chest. Naturally, since Shimegiwa was standing on one foot like a flamingo, and we were on a slanted roof without decent footholds to begin with, he was blown backward—his sickle hit empty air. I thought he might fall on his back, but he's got some grit; he put both hands on the ground as if preparing to do a backflip, and jumped back like a spring. I couldn't say it was as deft as a gymnast, but he managed to land on his feet.

“You're insane...”

Said Shimegiwa, crouching and holding his chest. Technically speaking, in terms of sumo wrestling, you could say he lost the moment he put his hands on the ground; well, it's just a rule I came up with off the top of my head, so I'll let this pass. I'm easy-going.

“I attacked first, but why did yours land before mine? You waited to see my move but you still got the jump on me... it's not fair.”

Not fair? What are you, a child? Well, you do look like a child as far as age goes. Watch, think, move, catch; if you can do that, fighting gets really easy—although, you might be right to call it unfair. It's like I'm living in a different timeline from everyone else. Alright, alright, I won't do that anymore.

“Nah, do it as much as you want... I can use unfair techniques, inhuman skills that stink of foul play too.”

Oh? What, you've got some tricks up your sleeve? I thought I was through evaluating him based on our earlier exchange... But if that's the case, why'd you hold back? I won't blame you or anything, no matter what kind of techniques you use. If you say stuff like that, it makes the fact that I'm the strongest sound unfair in the first place.

“Okay, I hear you. Don't you regret those words, humanity's strongest.”

Regret, huh. I'd love to try that at least once. If you're going to let me, then I welcome it—well, I was being nonchalant (bad habit of mine), but even though Shimegiwa's, Matsuri Shimegiwa's next move didn't make me regret anything, it definitely sufficed to dumbfound me.

“I am Matsuri Shimegiwa—also known as Campfires.”

He reintroduced himself, rolling up his sleeves; the next moment, his right arm—Shimegiwa's right arm—transformed into flames. Transformed into flames. I'm sure that sounds like some kind of metaphor, but I described exactly what it was; there's no metaphor, Shimegiwa's right arm literally turned into flames—transfired into flames. I drew the highly sensible conclusion that his body had caught fire, that he'd messed up trying to activate some kind of fire-related device and burned up his own arm. But I was wrong—he used the flames of his right arm to once again wind up a punch. With a burning fist. I observe, then take action, and I'm still on time, but even I—no, that's exactly why I was at a loss. It was dubious whether or not I even had time to think. I can't look past a bizarre and enigmatic development like this; however, it was clear I wouldn't come up with an answer to this phenomenon by fretting about it. So, all I can do is test things out. Experiment—experiment by comparison. Just like I'd done at the start, I decided to intercept his fist. Answer a punch with a punch. If it was a bluff, and he was using using some kind of trick or illusion, then this kind of direct response ought to be best. However—

“Idiot! You think you can hit fire with flesh?”

It was just as Shimegiwa so scornfully said: my fist slipped right through his. As if punching the air—no, not just the air. My arm was covered in an outrageous amount of heat, an outrageously hot wind; it was just like I'd thrust my hand into a fire. There was no trick or illusion; it was an actual flame. What's with this guy? I've fought a variety of people up 'til now, and I've battled players with a variety of abilities. Among them there were considerable eccentrics, and people who used techniques I could hardly believe. People who use fire, flame-wielders, they aren't all that uncommon. I've met fifty thousand people whose fighting style involved becoming one with flames—but I'd never met someone who turned their own body into flames. What the hell are you, Matsuri Shimegiwa!

“I'll blacken you to a crisp, red woman!”

As he called out to me like I were a demon, Shimegiwa's rather demonic fist—his fist of flame—landed a direct hit on my chest. No, strictly speaking, it would be hard to call it a “direct hit”; it's not like the flames that my fist slipped through actually hit my chest. Again, it passed through—but there was no avoiding the high temperature and hot wind. My clothes burned; this red jacket that could be recognized five kilometers away really did blacken and turn to ash. I liked this jacket, you know... I thought, as I flew into the air. Within the waves of hot wind, I was about to succumb to confusion... but I changed tacks right away. His ability... well, I'd be hard-pressed to call it a technique, but in any case, no matter what the truth about his ability is, we're in the middle of a bout right now, and at this rate I'm going to fall down on the rooftop—in other words, I'm going to lose. And I don't want that. I see; for the new generation, Shimegiwa's shown me he's on a scale that exceeded my imagination. However, if I were to lose right here, it'd be a disgrace to the title “humanity's strongest”. I rotated my body midair, planning to land right then and there if possible, but that didn't work out—I might've been able to land if I'd wanted to, but unlike Shimegiwa, I wasn't okay with making any old landing; it needs to be cool. If I can't stick an Ultra C landing,(2) I'd rather fall down ostentatiously—though, I'd prefer to be the one doing the knocking down. Rotating my body, with only a few centimeters remaining between me and the rooftop, I drove my scorched fist downward. There was no grand plan; I simply punched it—and that was enough.

“Huh? … Huuhhhhhh!?”

Shimegiwa, who must have been all but certain of victory, understandably let out a cry. It might have been a scream. Maybe, although part of it must be because he’s young, he's the type who panics when something unexpected happens. But it'd be harsh to criticize him for that; most adults would probably shriek like that too if the place they were standing on suddenly collapsed.

“The whole roof...!?”

Yes, with a full-strength punch, I destroyed the roof of the public office building; I destroyed the battlefield itself. The rule was whoever fell down first loses... so all I had to do was destroy the place where I would have fallen.

“That's allowed!?”

Of course it is. I let it pass when you put your hand on the rooftop earlier, after all. And didn't you know? When I was about your age, this is what people would say about me: any building Jun Aikawa sets foot in collapses, without exception.

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) Sickle-weasel, or more commonly kamaitachi (鎌鼬), is a youkai that appears in a whirlwind to cut people and make them fall over. (2) In the 1968 Summer Olympics, gymnastic feats were assigned difficulty levels from A to C, with C being the highest difficulty. The Japanese team came up with the term “Ultra C” to mean something along the lines of performing above and beyond the maximum, and since then it has been used generally to refer to an amazing or momentous feat.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 1

This is the first story in the second Saikyou series book. The title of the story means “Humanity’s Strongest Ardent Love”, with “ardent” coming from the character for “heat”, and the title of the book means “Humanity’s Strongest Pure Love”.

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 8-11

After it was all over, that is, after it had died, I recalled a conversation I had with somebody at some point—that's certainly not to say that had I remembered, had I more properly thought things through, then it wouldn't have met with such an end; I wish things were that simple, but anyway, that doesn't change the fact that I recalled it.

“Aikawa-san. What would you think if someone died, or suffered an avoidable tragedy, because of you?”

Huh? What kind of a question is that? I don't get it. You mean, like, “How does it feel when you kill someone?” You'd be better off asking our old friend Zerozaki-kun, if that's the case. Though we probably all know how he'd answer.

“No, um, it's not that direct, or rather, I'm not talking about something premeditated. Setting aside the proper usage of premeditated, that is...”

So, when you kill someone by mistake? When you inadvertently ruin someone's life? Accidents and errors and stuff?

“Not quite. I don't mean accidents and mistakes, where you don't feel remorse... Perhaps it would be easier to understand if I gave an example. Um... there was a trendy argument a while ago, wasn't there, about children causing trouble, or getting caught up in trouble, due to bad influences from manga and such?”

Oh, there was, wasn't there. I mean, it's still around today. So that's what you're talking about? But didn't that have no statistical basis, and it was just prejudice from adults? You can grow up to be a fine person like me only reading manga, you know.

“Somehow that lacks persuasion...”

Did you say something?

“I didn't say anything. And personally, I don't think I'm one to hold anyone to account for the bad influence of manga on children. Although, it's not so simple as only being a good influence and never exerting a bad influence... Well, this isn't what I'd like to discuss.”

So, what do you want to talk about? You're so roundabout.

“What I mean is, violent language and cruel stories, and sexual illustrations too, aren't they a pretty powerful stimulus for children who can't yet judge between good and bad? But that's not it—well, I'll keep using manga as an example since it's easy to understand. Say there's a nationally renowned manga artist who grants dreams to children. Some of those children won't be satisfied just reading the works they're offered, and they'll be influenced to want to become manga artists themselves, right?”

Definitely. Sure. You can't blame them for looking up to someone.

“But the world is harsh. Half those children—rather, nearly all of them will have their dreams crushed. They'll experience failure that they never needed to experience. All the effort and hard work they did until their dreams were crushed will be no different from playing around. What do you think about that, Aikawa-san?”

Hmm? Looking up to someone, and failing? Could happen, wouldn't happen... no, you're right. And there's another thing; maybe they weren't directly aiming to become a manga artist, but they had read manga and were inspired to be an athlete. After becoming a pro player, they give an interview and say, “Actually, it's all thanks to the manga I read as a child,” and it all seems pretty moving, but that one person's influence crushes the dreams of a million readers. But really, so what? It's pointless to get on your high horse and pick apart a moving story like that.

“True. But there's a more extreme scenario. Speaking of sports, let's say there's a child who looks up to a top-class Olympic gold medalist, and wants to follow in their footsteps—”

And has their dreams crushed?

“—Having their dreams crushed would be preferable. A tragic future may very well await them, where they take a wild pitch to the head, or in martial arts they get an injury so serious that they can never recover. When the star athlete is told about that... should the star feel any sense of responsibility? Even if they're not legally responsible, should they feel morally responsible?”

Automobiles are useful, but they kill a lot of people in accidents, right? That criticism is more constructive, but it's also destructive at the same time. If you start the blame game there, you'll box yourself into a corner.

“Right... The blame game? What about the ones being blamed?”

Well, naturally being blamed is annoying too, but I just thought that the ones doing the blaming would get hedged in as well. I didn't mean much by it. In any case, arguing about something that doesn't work as an argument is as unproductive as it gets.

“Indeed, this is unproductive... If you start talking like that, you'll have a hard time just walking down the street.”

Special people have a special influence—I can understand how someone could believe that, but ultimately, isn't it nowhere close to the influence of parents and friends and stuff? That's how it was for me.

“Like your father?”

Yeah, like my father. Like those pieces of garbage. No doubt, if it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here—and it's not like I never blamed them. Uh, what were we talking about originally? Not this general stuff; you had something to ask me, right?

“Yes. Say there's an idiot who looks up to you and fails. They want to be like you, they try to look good, and they die an ugly, pointless death. But isn't all of that completely separate from your intentions and actions, Aikawa-san? Even if they're as massive a fool as someone who tries to become a bird and jumps off a cliff to their death; could you simply call them a fool and cast them aside?”

Mmm.

“Aikawa-san?”

I have only one thing to say to you right now, user of nonsense: Don't call me Aikawa-san. Only enemies call me by my last name.

[Next Chapter]

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 2

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 11-15

[Previous Chapter]

Well, I've gotten busy again. Not quite enough to say I'm in vogue, or that I'm working nonstop, but I've been receiving so many commissions lately that I can talk about the time when I was cut off from work as if it were a fond memory. Nah, it's a bit much to call being shunned by the whole world a fond memory; but, in any case, it was definitely an extraordinary experience. A lot happened after that; I very nearly got banished from Earth in the guise of contract work. Too much happened, enough to make me do some rare self-reflection about whatever the heck I did to become so disliked. Well, I might do self-reflection, but I don't do self-restraint; isn't that one of my charm points? But they say gossip only lasts 75 days, and when all the commotion had died down, some real work, the time when I can feel my life's purpose, started coming back to me. That said, though; I know it's odd—or rather, I know it's selfish—but the busier I get, the more I think it'd be nice if I had a bit more free time.

“I wonder about that, my dear friend. One could say that the world is more stable when you're busy.”

That's how the great thief Kouta Ishimaru appraised my current situation, when we met on the job (as enemies). Are you one of my critics? No, you're just having a laugh at me, aren't you. Even so—well, if I can maintain world peace by working hard, then it would be my honor.

“No, that is not what I meant, my dear friend. If you aren't working, then aliens start arriving, and God himself becomes desperate to keep you occupied. You really ought to have something to do, regardless of what it might be. It seems God is aware of how unpredictable you are when bored.”

God? Hmph. That's not like you. If a wonderful guy like him exists, then people like you and me would never have been born in the first place.

“Gods are not omnipotent, after all. Surely he feels responsible for producing a failed creation like you, and has devised various measures to keep you fenced in. So you won't destroy the world in a fit of boredom.”

That is the purpose for which you were originally created.

Said Kouta, as if I were some kind of ultimate weapon. Well, I can't argue with that point. But if you say I'm a failed creation of my fathers', and a failed creation of God's... I think a ladylike phantom thief liable to steal the halo off of God himself would be more of a failed product, one created on a whim, than me.

“Hmm. Still, that is quite perfect. Failure and success are just different perspectives, after all—either way, if the business is thriving then all is well. While you gaily toil away, my dear friend, I simply sneak around taking your leftovers.”

The leftover she was stealing was a bronze statue valued at several hundred million dollars—though, for a bronze statue, it was as big as a building. What part of that is “simple”? Is she some kind of magician? Even I couldn't do that. ...Anyway, I don't know how serious Kouta was being (in the first place, it's rather doubtful whether that ill-natured, slippery woman is ever really “serious”), but if world peace is brought about by me being swamped, then my work starts seeming more and more meaningful. I took any sort of job I could get my hands on, big jobs and small jobs, from mediating wars to looking for lost kittens. And then, one day...

“You Jun Aikawa?”

During one of the teensy bits of free time I had between jobs, someone called out to me—with a voice precise enough to pass through the eye of a needle, but still rough.

“You're so red, I could tell from five kilometers away.”

Liar. No way you could tell from five kilometers away; I'm not luminescent. I wanted to give that as a retort, but I held back. Why? Because I was happy—happy at the respect the guy was showing me. As if to snarl, he was glaring at me through glittering sanpaku eyes that looked like they might really be gazing from five kilometers away. His hair was garishly spiked, as if prodding the heavens themselves; it seemed to be a vivid analogy for an aggressive personality.

“What are you grinning for? Something funny?”

He looked puzzled, so I apologized. Sorry, sorry, I just got a little happy; I couldn't help it. I mean, work has gone back to normal, but it's been a while since a character appeared who knew who I was and still was this hostile.

“You trying to say I'm young?”

Well, actually, I'd say he's very young. With the exception of the sanpaku eyes, nothing about his appearance suggests he's anything but a young teenager; there's no doubt he's a youngster. One of those kids from the generation that knows nothing of the Great War, where I started being called “Overkill Red”. These generations are advancing smoothly, aren't they... So, what do you want to do? Gonna fight right here?

“If I didn't want to change location, I'd have attacked you from the back without saying anything. I waited for you to be done working.”

Hmph. That's pretty stalker-ish. I didn't sense him watching me while I was working, though... Doesn't seem like concealing his presence is a specialty of his, but does this mean he's a pro player? Which family are you from?

“I'm me. Just me. I'm not from the Killing Names or the Cursing Names, or the Kunagisa Organization, or the Four Gods and One Mirror—just a private citizen. Same as you and Kouta Ishimaru.”(1)

Oh, he knows about Kouta too? Really? So there are youngsters like that around. He's got some backbone in him, for a youth these days—even if saying that makes me seem all the more grown-up. And it's my nature to want to smash that backbone of his to pieces (I really haven't grown up). All right, fine. Escort me to wherever it is you want to go. Ah, before we go, can I ask your name? Even if there's no one to tend to it, a gravestone needs a name, right?

“Matsuri Shimegiwa. Seventeen years old.”

Young, aren't you. And that's a good name too.

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) In the Zaregoto-Saikyou-Ningen universe, there are four “layers” of society. Those not born into special power are the “outer” layer, which is where most people are, including Ii-chan, Jun, Kouta, most of ER3, etc. The “economic” layer consists of five large business conglomerate families (zaibatsu), together called “Four Gods and One Mirror” after the characters in their family names. Iria Akagami is an exiled “princess” of one of these zaibatsu. The “political” layer also consists of several zaibatsu, all of which are under the control of the Kunagisa Organization. Tomo Kunagisa is of course a member of the Kunagisa family that operates the organization, and her older brother Nao is its leader. The “violence” layer is made up of a large number of assassin clans and their branch families, who generally work as mercenaries and boast near-supernatural powers. The “Killing Names” clans kill people up front—though the Zerozaki clan is an exception, as they mostly kill for sport—while the “Cursing Names” clans kill more indirectly, through deception and poison and such. Hitoshiki Zerozaki and the Niounomiya siblings are members of Killing Names clans.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 6

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 30-33

[Previous Chapter]

After all that, I was taken by Shimegiwa to Doctor Kitsuregawa's laboratory. I'd assumed it would be a windowless building or an underground facility located deep in the mountains, far away from civilization, or maybe on a desert island or in a ghost town, but Doctor Kitsuregawa's laboratory was right in the middle of a residential area, of all places. I quipped, what, are you stupid? The world's most dangerous researcher does the world's most dangerous research in a private house like this? Yet the more I thought about it, maybe a compact environment is ideal for an unaffiliated researcher who doesn't belong to an organization. I thought he'd get a ton of patent fees just from that spacesuit, but development expenses are nothing to be sneezed at, so maybe this is all he can manage. I wonder if the neighbors are aware, though. “Kitsuregawa” was written bold and clear on the nameplate, as if mocking us. ...It's compact for a laboratory, but for a house, it's on the bigger side; it seemed as though a large family could be living here.

“This is Shimegiwa. I'm back.”

Said “Campfires”, pressing the camera-attached intercom next to the nameplate. I'd thought he was a brat who'd never learned his manners toward the elderly, like me, but I guess he knows how to be polite after all.(1) In that case, maybe Doctor Kitsuregawa is more popular than I imagined. There was no reply from the intercom, but after a brief delay, I heard the clack of the gate being unlocked from the entryway beyond. Then, the door opened—I certainly hadn't expected Doctor Kitsuregawa to greet us in person, but it wasn't a research assistant or an employee who pushed open the door and appeared; it was a small child. A little girl about five years old.

“Welcome back, Matsuri.”

The girl looked at us, fighting the weight of the door—she was somehow managing to keep up, barely, but if we didn't enter soon, it looked like the match would turn sour. Shimegiwa must have thought the same thing; he opened the door and quickly moved toward her. That's odd. Well, I probably shouldn't be calling it odd, since the image I had of Doctor Kitsuregawa being alone and without any family was entirely my own assumption; I'd never entertained the idea that a large family would actually be living in a house that seemed fit for a large family. But to think he'd have not just a family, but grandchildren at that... She is a grandchild, right? Even if it was prejudiced of me to think he didn't have a family, surely there's no way Doctor Kitsuregawa is a good-natured old man who's adored by the neighborhood kids...

“Are you Jun Aikawa?”

As soon as I'd walked under the eaves of the entryway, the girl asked me that, staring at me intently from behind Shimegiwa. Somehow, that direct look from the eyes of a child felt more piercing than being glared at by Shimegiwa's sanpaku eyes... Well, even bearing that in mind, this girl was looking at me rather too directly, as if running me through with a straight line from her eyes. Yeah, this is definitely not a neighborhood kid... This kind of gaze makes a lot of sense if she's a blood relative of Doctor Kitsuregawa.

“Yep, that's me. I'm Jun Aikawa—humanity's strongest contractor.”

No sense being bashful in front of a little kid, right. I greeted her boldly. He seemed to have taught his grandchildren their manners; the girl quickly bowed her head.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Hotsure Kitsuregawa.”

She raised her head, and continued.

“I'm grateful for your help testing the Closet spacesuit I developed. It made me very happy.”

Huh? She spoke with a lisp, so I couldn't quite follow... Did she just say “the Closet spacesuit I developed”?

“Your mind reading isn't infallible, Jun Aikawa—I'm relieved. I got nervous thinking everything in my head was being overheard.”

Shimegiwa said proudly from the side.

“I'll introduce you. This is, as she's known to the world, the heretical researcher—Hotsure Kitsuregawa-sama.”

Once again, I looked in the direction Shimegiwa was gesturing. No matter how many times or in what way I looked, all I saw was a girl, about five years old.

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) In the original, Jun expresses surprise that Shimegiwa “can say desu (the polite copula) in a sense that doesn't mean death (pronounced the same in Japanese)”.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 4

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun’ai – Nisioisin p. 24-28

[Previous Chapter]

Because I'd gone a bit overboard, the roof of the public office building got demolished to a greater extent than I anticipated—it wasn't so much broken as it was smashed to pieces. Like a typhoon had ripped the roof right off, it looked like the cleanup would be a real chore; well, regardless, I'm sure the bureaucracy will handle it just fine. Anyway, in the end Shimegiwa and I fell from the rooftop into the building, and those extra few meters I bought to fall provided plenty of room to spin around like a cat and stick the landing. A cool and stylish landing, of course (luckily, the room underneath us was a conference room with nobody inside). I think Shimegiwa could have done the same thing if he'd tried, but those few meters were several kilometers too short for him to recover from his panic. I looked over; Shimegiwa was buried in rubble, and his right arm had gone back to being flesh and blood like before. Hmm... I still don't get how that works.

“Uhh...... Uhhhh...”

Despite getting buried, his injuries can't have been serious; a pro player wouldn't die from falling a single floor. However, our match had clearly been settled. There was no disguising the fact that, buried in the rubble, Shimegiwa's back was lying on the conference room floor.

“......”

He knew it, too; Shimegiwa was fiercely glaring at me without trying to hide any feelings of shame—it was so intense I thought his sanpaku eyes might turn white. Heh heh heh; I answered his stare with a laugh. It doesn't have to end here, you know? If you want to keep going, I'll keep going. Now that you've shown me the tricks up your sleeve, this could be fun. It's more like flames up your sleeve than tricks, though. I'm excited to see what you'll show me next.

“...No, let's stop.”

Shimegiwa said, continuing to glare at me. As soon as he said that, as if enervated, I unwound from my combat posture.

“I'm not in the mood anymore... What's your deal, anyway. You're a goddamn maniac... Normally you don't destroy the stage itself.”

Well, I'm not normal. Shouldn't you know that from the rumors? And while I'm at it, let me just say, that arm of yours is a lot crazier than I am. Don't be hypocritical.

“It was a good match, right? ...Well, even if I lost. Damn... If this was gonna happen, I shouldn't have chosen a rooftop. Should've fought right where we met.”

I wanted to avoid attention, but with a public facility smashed up this badly, this will be a pain to straighten out, Shimegiwa grumbled. I answered; no, you were right to pick a rooftop. For all we know, if we'd fought on the ground, I might have destroyed the planet instead.

“You sure talk big. But that kind of talk actually sounds natural for you. I'm not in a position to criticize.”

Is that so? But either way, wasn't a rooftop or someplace similar your only option? Shimegiwa-kun.

“...? What do you mean?”

Oh? Was I wrong? Taking off the coat that hadn't fulfilled its purpose, I tilted my head. Thanks to that arm of yours, my right arm looks like crispy, burned bread; I had a hunch that you could only use it somewhere with lots of sunlight or fresh air.

“......”

Whether I was right or wrong, Shimegiwa fell silent—that's why I thought he wouldn't try to keep fighting now that we've gone partly indoors. His arm is back to normal, too; well, that's fine. This isn't all that important. Well, Campfires, it's about time to say our farewells. The next job is waiting. G'bye, g'bye. I closed and opened my burned hand—good, seems like the nerves didn't get burned. With a big meal and lots of sleep, it should be healed by tomorrow.

“Wait, Jun Aikawa. You leaving?”

I'm leaving, yes. What? You want something else?

“The truth about my arm, doesn't it interest you? Don't you want to know the truth about those flames?”

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested, but if you're asking me if I want to know, then the answer is no. Seems like a mystery that would be more fun to leave unexplained.

“Didn't think you'd be feel afraid, but my client hoped it'd pique your interest a little more...”

Your client, huh. I see; so that was the goal in sending this vigorous youth after me. They tried to pique my interest by showing me a technique, an art I'd never seen before—pretty roundabout, isn't it. Naturally, they must have accounted for the possibility that I'd get turned into charcoal entirely. Along with, of course, the possibility that I'd beat Shimegiwa black and blue.

“You're correct.”

Shimegiwa stood up and brushed off the rubble covering his body, looking annoyed.

“I'm here because a certain individual asked me to be—I didn't challenge you of my own volition. To be honest, I'd hardly heard of you, the one called humanity's strongest. I thought you were just a legend that got out of control... but this individual seems to have thought otherwise.”

Hmph. Someone who knows about my wildest period, huh. Most of those people have retired, died, or disappeared by now, so that really narrows it down, I think.

“As a matter of fact, this 'arm' is the fruit of this individual's research. Technically it's just one part of it, though...”

Research? A researcher, then? Hearing that made me tense up—after all, I'd recently had some rough alien-related run-ins with the ER3 System. And due to my origins, I've never had good a relationship with researchers.

“This individual wishes to meet with you. Wants you to help finish up some research. In other words, this is a job, contractor. Humanity's strongest contractor.”

…... I answered with silence; unusual, given my talkativeness. You could say I instinctively—not logically—put up my guard. After all, if he had a job for me, he could have just said so from the beginning. Right? So there must be a reason he chose this method. At the very least, the reason can't be something friendly like wanting to amaze and surprise me; taking a job in this circumstance would truly be playing with fire.(1)

“What's the matter, Jun Aikawa? You're smiling.”

Mmm. Is that so? I'm smiling? ...That might mean I'm in a tough spot, then. I still don't want to know about your fire arm, but I suppose I ought to know who the client is. Setting aside the question of whether I'll take the job or not, at least tell me that. I'll hear you out. Who is it, Shimegiwa-kun? Who's the researcher who sent you after me? Is it somebody from the ER3 System?

“No... this individual is an extremely private researcher, and not affiliated with any organization. Self-employed, without any backers, like you and me.”

Oh? Since I knew my fathers, it was hard for me to judge whether that meant they were tenacious or just a contrarian—enough already, give me a name, Shimegiwa-kun.

“Do you know Doctor Kitsuregawa?”

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) In the original, Nisio uses the idiom “picking up chestnuts from a fire”, meaning “taking a big risk”; I substituted the English idiom “playing with fire” since it has a similar meaning and keeps the play on words.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 5

Jinrui Saikyou on Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 28-30

[Previous Chapter]

I did know Doctor Kitsuregawa. He's something of a celebrity, but at the same time, he's remained anonymous and unacknowledged. That's because, as a researcher, he could be described as a world-weary hermit who prefers to avoid people, and also as a mad scientist whom people prefer to avoid—when both sides are avoiding each other, there's no way for them to communicate. If you remember dear old Doctor Kyouichirou Shadou,(1) he’s probably a similar type; however, compared to that Mad Demon, Doctor Kitsuregawa's research is a bit on the shadier side. I mean, his research is utterly mystifying, and in that sense, he's seriously deviated from normal society—to say the least, his accomplishments could never win him a Nobel Prize. To give some examples, he's done stuff like cramming multiple people's consciousnesses into a single body, or conversely, making one consciousness control multiple bodies; trying to give a person three hearts, swapping people's minds, and making glasses that turn the world upside down; his research isn't so much useless as it is liable to cause trouble. If there's an ideology he's consistently followed, it's like he's constantly asking, “How can I best agitate the world?” It pains me to say so, but compared to Doctor Kitsuregawa's ideas, both the ER3 System and the M that my fathers made would be categorized as decent. Naturally, a guy like that is an outcast in the scientific world, but in extremely rare cases, his inventions match up with a demand from society. Just like planets sometimes align, cases like that do happen—Izumu Niounomiya, the Man-Eater, is a good example. The Niounomiya siblings; one as two, two as one. He'd probably be known as the strongest if it weren't for me; that's the quality of personnel Doctor Kitsuregawa is able to create, if he feels so inclined. Even I've shared in the fruits of his research—I could probably say I was harmed by it, but even so, I landed and walked on the moon in his “Closet” spacesuit. The spacesuit was durable and easy to move in, and it was promptly adopted for use by space agencies around the world, but its original purpose was to be able to fight aliens, which was pretty crazy. A researcher who devotes his life to bring useless and pointless fantasies into reality—that's Doctor Kitsuregawa.

“To tell you the truth, I'm one of Doctor Kitsuregawa's products—though you might say I'm more of an experiment.”

Shimegiwa didn't have to tell me; that's what I assumed. Whether his arm could turn into a fire or a psycho-gun,(2) as soon as he said it was the result of that doctor's research, I understood perfectly. As mysterious as the trick up Shimegiwa's sleeve had been, all sense of mystery immediately disappeared. It'd be more mysterious if that wasn't the case. Doctor Kitsuregawa's latest work, Matsuri Shimegiwa—“Campfires”, huh. Dear me. So the client is Doctor Kitsuregawa... what's more, he's not acting through any agency, but commissioning me directly.

“I've been instructed to guide you. Of course, I'll wait for you to be done with your next job or whatever...”

Oh, no need to wait.

“......”

I didn't really mean “no need to wait” as in “I'm turning you down”. Don't give me that look. I meant that you don't have to wait for me to be done with my next job because I'll be canceling it, just like you predicted; so, let's get going right now.

“W-what? Is that alright? Being so irresponsible with your work...”

I don't need a spiky-haired youngster teaching me how to do my job. It's fine; that's my style. Didn't you know? My job completion rate is super low.

“...This is the first time I've met someone who got excited hearing Doctor Kitsuregawa's name.”

I'm not excited, I'm feeling reluctant. It's just, I would like to meet and talk with him at least once. How to put it; in this flow of events, it wouldn't be right to not meet him. But only if we dispense with any nasty stuff right away—though I can't deny I'm looking forward to it, since everything I know about him is from rumors.

“......”

Well, if the job is to serve as his guinea pig, then I'll have to beg off. Something on the level of testing a spacesuit might be alright, but I'd rather not have my arm turned into gas or anything like that.

“That's not what this is about. Please, hear the rest from the doctor... I can't explain it very well. I'm not sure what Doctor Kitsuregawa's intentions are.”

I doubt anyone is sure of that.

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) Kyouichirou Shadou, also known as the Mad Demon, was the leader of the research facility that served as the setting of Psychological, the third Zaregoto book. (2) The “psycho-gun” is a cybernetic arm-laser gun that appears in the manga Cobra.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 10

From Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai by Nisio Isin

[Previous Chapter]

I'd expected the workshop on the second floor to actually be built like a lab for research and experimentation instead of a private residence, which was technically right, but I couldn't help but be disappointed by the facility—it was compact; if I had to say, the so-called lab looked more like an elementary school cooking classroom. I was downright awestruck that such a small-scale “workshop” had produced so vast an amount of earth-shattering, worldview-shattering research... but even so, I desperately wanted to tell them to get a real facility. What on Earth was that old man thinking? Regardless of what Hotsure-chan said before, I really have no clue what went through first-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa's head. I doubt we'd have much to talk about.

“Here we are.”

Hotsure-chan pointed to a flask atop a tripod on one of the larger tables. A small flame was burning inside it... Oh? I hadn't done any science experiments in a while, so I couldn't say for sure, but I felt like the fire in an alcohol lamp or whatnot heats the flask from underneath, not from the inside, right? This flask was sealed with a rubber stopper, but oxygen seemed to be flowing in through several inserted tubes... Hotsure-chan, is this flame what you called the “Lamp of the Destitute”?

“Indeed. However, 'Lamp of the Destitute' simply refers to the name of the project. Here, I'll introduce you.”

Hotsure-chan spoke as if she were about to introduce a friend—or even a little sister.

“This is a gas-based lifeform—its name is Flare.”(1)

I was taken aback, of course, by the softness of the name and the insanity of the statement. If I hadn't previously promised not to be alarmed, who knows what kind of histrionics I'd have pulled. A “gas-based lifeform”? I looked at Shimegiwa, who was standing in the doorway as if to prevent me from turning tail and running—I looked at his right arm. The boy who could transform his arm into gas and then turn it back to normal, Matsuri Shimegiwa. Then I turned to Hotsure-chan. The homunculus; a child from a test tube. A girl born in a flask—so...?

“Say hello, Flare.”

Without waiting for my reaction, Hotsure-chan faced the flask and began talking to it, speaking to the bright red, blazing fire as though it were a fellow human.

“■ | ■ | □ | ■ | □ | □ .”

Sure enough, a faltering “voice” like computerized musical tones sounded out from inside the flask—I took it to mean “Ni | ce | to | me | et | you”. So with no ruse or pretense, I simply told it “Nice to meet you, too”.

“Your common sense has been turned inside out, has it not? Well, this is part of our common sense. This is the purpose of the final research of the first-generation Doctor Kitsuregawa.” Resignation filled Hotsure-chan's tone of voice. “He strove to create a new lifeform, one superior to humankind. To that end, Grandpa gave life to a flame.”

Matsuri and I were stepping-stones for that end purpose. Hearing that, it finally made sense why she'd sounded so self-deprecating earlier. This felt like the first time since entering this house that something made sense to me. Hotsure-chan: a homunculus produced to find a method to make a human without reproduction, a method to make something out of nothing. Shimegiwa's arm represented the vaporization of living material. If so, then combining those seemingly disparate methods to take them to the next level would naturally lead to the creation of a non-human lifeform. The creation of a lifeform entirely divorced from the evolutionary tree—it could only seem like he was half-jokingly toying with life.

“Half-jokingly? No, it was all a joke to Doctor Kitsuregawa.” Shimegiwa laughed boldly—boldly but also brashly, with a cheerful smile. “I liked that about him.”

Did you, now. But in another view, if you didn't like that about him, you wouldn't be able to put up with him and his personality at all. In that case, maybe Doctor Kitsuregawa's real motives in abandoning his personality in old age were more complicated than I had thought. No matter what Shimegiwa may think, Doctor Kitsuregawa likely determined that his personality was “unfit” and opted to refresh it in the inheritance—well, no matter how much you hate it, no matter how much you don't want to, any ordinary person could tell you that you've got to live with your personality for your whole life.

“Don't ponder too much, Jun Aikawa; at the moment, it isn't as fully realized as you may think. If we divide the progress on the 'Lamp of the Destitute' into ten steps, this is only step three or four. Flare is like a newborn baby... or rather, an embryo.”

So the flask would be the womb, then. It's certainly a homunculus... If you think of it as a test-tube baby, it does sound like part of the natural progression of modern chemistry; however, to me, it seemed utterly distinct—Doctor Kitsuregawa probably felt the same way.

“It is extraordinarily fragile, after all. Liable to be extinguished in a gust of air; quite literally a candle in the wind... I apologize for making you run about, but might we return to the dining room once more? We will talk more in detail there—that is, if you still have enough energy to listen.”

What more do you want me to hear? I put as much sarcasm into my answer as I could, but regardless, there was no turning back. As humanity's strongest, but also as a member of the human race, I had no choice but to listen to what she had to say, and I had no choice but to take the job.

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) Its name in Japanese is “Fureai”, which is a pun on “flare”. “Fureai” is a nebulous but important concept in Japanese society that refers to the formation of emotional connections between different people.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 9

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai – Nisioisin p. 45-53

[Previous Chapter]

There are times when I think the world actually ended a while ago, but I didn't notice and kept on living anyway. Especially on days full of nonsense like today... Well, anything can happen in this life of mine, after all. In any case, if a homunculus and an arm made of fire are just the warm-up, I wonder what kind of job will this be... I feel like someone once said that everything you can imagine is real (1)—funnily (in both meanings of the word) enough,(2) the events that were happening one after another were beyond anything I could imagine. At this point, I guess Kouta wasn't necessarily mocking me with what she said about God going out of his way to make sure I'm not bored. Damn it, Kouta; maybe I'll marry you this time. So, Hotsure-chan, Shimegiwa-kun. What would you like me to do for you? Just so you know, I'm not cheap.

“I will pay you sufficiently for your work... Grandpa left us quite a bit in the inheritance.”

Whatever Hotsure-chan may say, that kind of big talk will sound suspicious if you live in an ordinary house like this. Surely you're not saying the old man kept a bunch of money in a drawer somewhere.

“You talk about me as if I'm a stranger to the issue at hand, but I am not, strictly speaking, totally unconnected. You could even say I share an intimate connection with that research—Matsuri and I were both test specimens for it.”

Hotsure-chan spoke with a touch of self-deprecation in her voice. Perhaps due to all the information stuffed into her brain in a volume unsuitable for her age, for a child, she was lacking in facial expressions—but at that moment, her self-deprecation was plain and obvious.

“'Test specimens' is a little too far, Hotsure-sama; I believe 'prototypes' would be the right term.”

“You're right.”

Hotsure-chan did not resist Shimegiwa's chiding words, and simply agreed. They're a strange combination, but unexpectedly appealing—I'm jealous of that kind of relationship. I've never had a partner who stuck with me, come to think of it. So, what do you mean by 'prototype'?

“...As you have already pointed out, I am the second generation of Grandpa, that is, Doctor Kitsuregawa, and I have taken over his research. However, I am not Grandpa himself. I am not yet able to come in contact with society like he would—I'm still in my test drive stage, so to speak.”

I highly doubt Doctor Kitsuregawa would come in contact with society in the first place, but I suppose even a mad scientist has to negotiate with the outside world sometimes. When they happened to align with a demand from society, he'd offer up the savage fruits of his research, in so doing protect himself from the hardships of life—but it would be fundamentally unreasonable to ask a newly born five-year-old to have the same level of cunning. That's why you're hiding the fact the first generation Doctor Kitsuregawa is dead and a homunculus has taken over as his second generation, right?

“Yes. But we cannot hide forever; we intend to make a public announcement soon. Before that, however, I would like to deal with all the unfinished research that Grandpa left behind... By the way, humanity's strongest, the Closet spacesuit you tested for us is one of those projects. Part of the inheritance Grandpa left.”

Inheritance, huh... that's a pretty terrible inheritance. Might be better to call it bad debt. I see; she didn't create the spacesuit totally from scratch, then. Although I'm not sure whether I should be relieved or not, now that I know the spacesuit was made by an old-fashioned alchemist.

“Over the past year, we have been finishing up the research projects that Grandpa started, one by one. During that time, our work has collided with yours on multiple occasions, not just with the spacesuit—I have been observing your work as a contractor. To some extent.”

Hmph. So that's why you chose me for this job; I do good work, right? No matter how small the job, there's always someone watching me from somewhere.

“Don't mock me, please. This is serious.”

To some extent?

“To some extent, yes.”

Is Shimegiwa-kun's arm part of the research you inherited, Hotsure-chan? Or did it get finished by your predecessor?

“Matsuri's arm is entirely Grandpa's handiwork.”

Hotsure-chan answered, and then continued.

“Matsuri's career as a resident of this house is longer than mine—for all intents and purposes, he was the one who raised me.”

Hmph; in that case, he really is her guardian. That did make me curious about how Shimegiwa got involved with the first generation Doctor Kitsuregawa, but I'd probably cause another digression if I asked about that.

“That is precisely the issue, and why I would very much like your help. With the exception of the very minor projects, I have been able to finish—or at the very least, dispose of—most of Grandpa's research... However, there is one last project of his that I can neither solve nor dispose of. I don't know what to do; I'm at my wit's end.”

Oh? She's being very honest—I never thought I'd hear a scientist say “I don't know”.

“Well, I'm new to this. Both as a scientist and as the second generation Doctor Kitsuregawa... If I were Grandpa, I'm sure I wouldn't be at my wit's end—if he were to reach this impasse, he might have disposed of the research without a second thought.”

Could that mean this one remaining project had some emotional significance to Hotsure-chan or Shimegiwa?

“I suppose it could. But our attachment to it isn't quite so emotional as it is practical... If this research is abandoned, then Matsuri and I would lose the meaning to our lives.”

You'd lose the meaning to your lives? You sure like to exaggerate. Besides, people who actually have meaning to their lives are in the minority.

“This is not some pubescent identity crisis. What I mean is, if we abandon that project, then it would be as if we—the fruits of Doctor Kitsuregawa's research—served no purpose. Do you understand?”

Maybe the reason why I understood what she was trying to say right away was that I'd been in a similar circumstance—there was a time in my life when I was a test subject in my fathers' “apocalypse research”. The research itself failed, but the fact that failed might make it seem like I was unnecessary, depending on how you look at it. I can say “Who cares?” and move past it, but these kids don't seem quite as carefree as I am. So I said: What you mean is, you guys were components in this last research project?

“Well, I suppose we are. Myself as a homunculus, and Matsuri's arm... we were the stairs that this project was climbing.”

Stairs, huh. If you put it that way, it reminds me of those Thirteen Stairs from a while ago.

“Thirteen Stairs?”

You don't need to know. Keep going.

“The homunculus was an experiment in turning the inorganic organic, making something from nothing, creating life from the lifeless, so to speak. Using it as a vessel for himself was probably nothing more than a secondary goal for Grandpa. The point is, he was trying to create something equivalent to, but totally separate from the lineage of humanity.”

So he was aiming to see if he could make the same product with different ingredients. Asking a scientist why there was any need to do that—or telling them that we already have humans so there's no point in making something else—wouldn't just be stupid, it would be rude.

“And Matsuri's arm was an experiment in turning human flesh into gas.”

Like turning man into machine? Cyborgs?

“Not like a cyborg, gas... He wanted to determine whether the human body, which is composed of solids and liquids, could be made from gases. Grandpa's goal was certainly not to produce a middle schooler's fantasy like an arm made of blazing fire.”

If only it was just a middle schooler's fantasy. Turning a human into gas... Like how vampires turn into mist? So the flames, the hot temperatures, and the weaponization were all just byproducts, and the key points were the change and variation in the states of matter.

“Doctor Kitsuregawa called it the 'vaporization phenomenon'.” Shimegiwa wearily patted his right arm. “The only thing I can vaporize is my arm, though... What Doctor Kitsuregawa was asking was whether or not a living thing could exist in the gaseous state.”

I wanted to ask what the point of asking even was—but he didn't just ask, he actually went and found an answer, which astonished me. If you asked me, as a layman, even if he succeeded in turning the human body into gas, wouldn't its volume increase rapidly to the point where it would disperse and be unable to return to its original form? That was the first problem that came to mind, but seeing how Shimegiwa's right arm had returned to its solid form right in front of me, I guess that hurdle has been cleared.

“Rest assured that I will show you the data later, if you are interested. Right now, I'm just giving a broad outline.”

The data? You'll show me the data? Isn't that highly classified?

“It is neither classified nor secret. More importantly, although I hope you have realized this by now, what we are asking of you—the commission we want you to take—is to assist us in completing that final research project. Or, if nothing can be done, to dispose of it in our stead.”

…...

“What, did you think you would be used as a guinea pig again? You're not a battle maniac whose only specialty is fighting, are you? You stand out for your ostentatiously active lifestyle, but really, you have plenty of scholastic accomplishments as well—actually, wouldn't you say brain work is more your strong suit?”

It's really unusual for someone to see me that way. Well, I'm not humble enough to act humble here. But still, I'm not so conceited as to think myself clever enough to assist in Doctor Kitsuregawa's research.

“Do you accept, humanity's strongest?”

Hmph. Part of me was surprised at how ordinary the job turned out to be—however, that depends on what this final research project, this bad inheritance left to you by Doctor Kitsuregawa, specifically entails. What on Earth could this alchemist's unfinished work be? Other than artificial life, the reconstitution of flesh, and the transcendence of human intellect, I can't see any commonalities between these two research products... I don't think I can help out with this research without understanding that. But, setting Shimegiwa aside, maybe what Hotsure-chan really wants me to do is to “dispose” of it. Maybe she can't do it herself because she's too emotionally attached, so she wants me to deal with it in her place... When it comes to stuff like that, Jun Aikawa is a natural-born destroyer, and destroying things (in various ways) is the strongest of my strong suits. I wouldn't hesitate to demolish Doctor Kitsuregawa's precious inheritance.

“Well, do you, Jun Aikawa?”

Shimegiwa pressed me for an answer. Don't rush me. Well, at this rate I'll probably end up accepting the job, but there's something I need to make sure of first. Do you have any intention of selling this final research over to the ER3 System, or the Four Gods and One Mirror, or anybody like that? I can introduce you to Associate Professor Hewlett, the world's foremost intellect, for free if you like.

“You don't get it, do you. We want you as a contractor, Jun Aikawa, not as a researcher. Of all the things Grandpa disliked, what he hated most of all were geniuses and the elite.”

I have inherited that “memory” quite clearly, Hotsure-chan said expressionlessly. I see. Well, that makes sense; to mad scientist Doctor Kitsuregawa, people in the same line of work wouldn't be business rivals, they'd be natural enemies. Okay, then. Time for you to tell me what this research is really about.

“Yes, you're right. I'll tell you. But before I do, will you promise me something?”

Another promise? What is it this time?

“Promise that you won't be alarmed, no matter what you see.”

That's the contract she wanted me to agree to? Hey, now, it's way too late for that. There's no use telling me to be alarmed now, and I doubt there's any use telling me to not be alarmed either.

“No, what I meant was, if you become alarmed, then it will become alarmed as well. I do not want to traumatize it—it is extremely feeble.”

…...? Hotsure-chan was still beating around the bush, so I looked at Shimegiwa, but he was no different—I guess I'll have to see it to believe it. Alright then, take me to the second floor. To the laboratory—or as an alchemist might say, the workshop?

“You're right. I don't call it a workshop, but Grandpa did. ...I would have liked you to meet him when he was alive, if your sensibilities align to that extent.”

Hotsure-chan stood up from the couch—give me a break. I really doubt we'd have gotten along. You're right that Doctor Kitsuregawa would never have asked another researcher for help, but if he were here, he wouldn't have asked me for help either.

“But that's just it. You speak of Grandpa like you knew him well; I inherited his memories, but even I cannot make assertions about him so confidently.”

Making assertions is a bad habit of mine. Don't put too much stock in it, or I'll have trouble answering.

“I see. Well then, I suppose I'll say it again after you have completed the job—it will be exciting to see how you reply. ...Grandpa—Motsure Kitsuregawa, the modern-day alchemist, called his final research project—”

Hotsure-chan strode forward as if to take the vanguard position.

“The Lamp of the Destitute.(3) That is what he called her.”

[Next Chapter]

Footnotes: (1) A common sentiment people usually can't attribute to anyone specific. The closest would be a quote attributed to Pablo Picasso, “Everything we imagine is real.” (2) In the original Jun says “thankfully” instead of “funnily enough”. The Japanese word she uses, 有り難い (arigatai), mainly means “thankful”, but its literal meaning is “hard to be [exist]”; it combines ari (from aru, “to be”) and gatai (“hard, difficult”). (3) This term (貧者の一灯, hinja no ittou) comes from an expression of Buddhist origin, “Better one lamp from the destitute than ten thousand from the rich”, from which Nisio extracts “one lamp from the destitute”. The expression teaches that a small offering made with true sincerity is more virtuous than a large offering by a rich person, and comes from this story: The king of Ajatashatru (阿闍世, ajase) invites the Buddha for a memorial service, and places ten thousand lamps along the path from the Jetavana monastery (祇園精舎, gion shouja) to light the way. A destitute old woman wants to offer light to the Buddha, so she spends the few pennies she has to buy a small amount of oil to light a lamp. Throughout the night, the king's lamps are blown out by the wind, run out of oil, etc., but the old woman's lamp remains miraculously lit.

[mirroredtranslations]

Jinrui Saikyou no Netsuai - Chapter 8

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin p. 37-45

[Previous Chapter]

Immortal youth is one of humanity's dreams, but it will forever remain a dream. It is an aspiration sought after since ancient times, and it will never be more than an aspiration. There's no such thing as a human who doesn't die—everyone dies. There are those whose long lives beggar belief, and my fathers were apparently quite enamored with them, but they were neither immortal nor forever young... well, those people are a fascinating topic for researchers to study, make no mistake. It's a topic that seemed to be of common interest to both Doctor Kitsuregawa and my fathers, those deviant researchers. So, when Doctor Kitsuregawa grew old and saw the end of his life approaching, he decided to transfer his consciousness into someone else—is that it? If that's what was meant by a successful experiment, there are still some unresolved questions. For instance, who exactly is this Hotsure-chan, sitting in front of me right now? I'd surmised from her age that she was his granddaughter, but no matter how much of a mad scientist Doctor Kitsuregawa might have been, would he really use his own granddaughter as an experimental subject? ...He probably would. After all, he even used his own consciousness in his research. No, that's not the issue; he wasn't the kind of person who could build honest family relationships in the first place—that's my prejudiced opinion. What Hotsure-chan said earlier about never having a mom or dad concerned me. Surely he didn't kidnap an orphan to use as his vessel, right? That's a downright nauseating hypothesis, but unfortunately that sort of thing is not unheard of in this world of ours. Might even say it's par for the course—there's a similar story to my own life. Recognizing that as “par for the course” is a whole different problem, though. So, I decided to get things cleared up—I'm grateful for all the surprises you prepared for me, Shimegiwa-kun, but I think it's about time the magician revealed his secrets. I might look like an adult to you, but I'm not that mature. If I get pissed off, I wouldn't hesitate to go on a rampage with no thought for the consequences.

“H-hold on, please, don't destroy our house like that government building... I'm going to explain everything, in order.”

Shimegiwa replied hastily—I found it a bit strange that he was more worried about the house than himself. However, as he spoke, I found myself thinking the opposite of what I said—maybe I have matured. Before, I might have smashed this table to pieces without even providing a warning.

“You were right... well, the rumors were right. Doctor Kitsuregawa had no family. He might've had some a while ago, but when I met him, at least, he didn't have any family... certainly no grandchildren.”

Hmph. He's not so different from me in that regard. Well, Doctor Kitsuregawa and I actually have a lot in common even beyond that (as much as I hate to admit it). We don't belong to any society or to any organization; we live aloof from the world, without benefactors—did I sympathize with him on those counts, or did I hate him for them...? Let's put that aside.

“It's not as if Doctor Kitsuregawa was a lonely old man, of course. There's a difference between being isolated and being above the rest.”

Being isolated and being above the rest are the same thing.

“......”

Oh, I don't mean to be a wet blanket. Keep going. Use whatever phrasing you like. This'll probably come in handy when I write Doctor Kitsuregawa's biography.

“You're gonna write his biography? You, Jun Aikawa?”

Of course not. Stop flaring up every time I crack a joke. So, Shimegiwa-kun, if Doctor Kitsuregawa had no family at all—excuse me, if he was above having a family—then who's this little girl? Where'd she hatch from?

“'Hatch', huh... Odd way to put it.”

You're really particular about phrasing, aren't you. Is language your favorite subject at school?

“I don't go to school. What I meant by 'odd' was that it was oddly accurate. I thought you might've read my mind again; it startled me.”

Huh?

“Hotsure-sama did indeed 'hatch'—from the inside of a flask.”

...From the inside of a flask. I shouldn't really be commended for being able to understand the situation based on those words—I mean, it's Doctor Kitsuregawa who ought to be commended here. Although, no matter how commendable he might be, it's hard to say whether he ought to be commended or not in this case; you've got to think about ethics. Even I couldn't avoid bringing that up.

“Jun Aikawa. Do you know what a homonculus is?”

I didn't answer right away, but yeah, I knew. The idea of homunculi is from alchemy; they're synthetic people, or rather, artificial life—essentially, life created by humans. It's one of the big themes of alchemy, alongside immortality and the production of gold. Of course, we're not talking about the middle ages here, and in this modern age of science, alchemy is no longer an academic discipline, it's a subject for entertainment.

“Not necessarily. They say that at the forefront of modern science, it's become possible to make gold, right? So it shouldn't be all that astonishing if immortality or homonculi became reality either.”

I guess it shouldn't be surprising... But, Shimegiwa-kun. It's definitely surprising to hear you talk as if Doctor Kitsuregawa was an alchemist, not a scientist, or even a chemist. As if he was an entertainer—it's hilarious. Like he was the last surviving alchemist in the modern age... This isn't a sci-fi novel, you know. As if—I looked at Hotsure-chan—as if he really built a homonculus.

“Whatever you believe is up to you. But the truth does not waver—I am an artificial life form that Grandpa created, and I inherited Grandpa's intelligence and memories; I am the second generation Doctor Kitsuregawa. The 'Closet' spacesuit that you wore was one of my inventions.”

Hearing her call that the unwavering truth wasn't just surprising, it sent a chill down my spine. After all, I'd flown out into a vacuum and run wild in a spacesuit designed by a five-year-old. ...Speaking of which, she looked five years old to me, but if she's really a homonculus, then I can't judge that based on her appearance. She's no “designer baby”, but maybe her age could have been set to whatever he wanted... Well, I'm sure it wasn't the old man's preference to have a little girl take over as him. That kind of perversion would be a great deal more serious than a lolita complex.

“What's that? You're curious about my age? I was created five years ago, and I took Grandpa—Doctor Motsure Kitsuregawa—into my head one year ago.”

So she was exactly as old as I thought. And if she took over as Doctor Kitsuregawa one year ago, that means that just about all of Doctor Kitsuregawa's recent achievements, including the Closet spacesuit, were made by this girl's tiny hands... From what I'd heard, all sorts of Doctor Kitsuregawa's creations had been scandalizing society, not just the spacesuit... So all of those things were the work of a five-year-old girl? That'd send a shiver through all my guts, not just my spine. I know the new generation is supposed to be smart, but this is a little too much.

“Doctor Kitsuregawa made a homonculus, and imparted to it his knowledge and memories; it's one manifestation of immortality, in a way... He really was a genius.”

Shimegiwa spoke as if boasting—I wonder if he idolized Doctor Kitsuregawa. I wasn't analyzing him using mind-reading since he seemed averse to it, but his attitude was rather mysterious to me. Without even considering his arm, it's understandable for a kid to admire an outlaw researcher who's deviated from society, but the idea of Doctor Kitsuregawa turning into a little girl. ...Well, it seemed as though Shimegiwa thought of “Doctor Kitsuregawa” and “Hotsure-sama” as different entities. And although Hotsure-chan's way of speaking was much too intellectual for her age, it was very different from how I remember Doctor Kitsuregawa—it would be hard to call her affable, but she didn't sound like a crotchety old misanthrope. I don't suppose a new body would've made the man have a change of heart, would it...

“What is it, Jun Aikawa? Do you still have questions?” Hotsure-chan said. “Though, to be frank, my identity has very little to do with this commission.”

She was making me out to be an idiot who was slow on the uptake, and I can't say that made me very happy, but from Hotsure-chan's—Doctor Kitsuregawa's—point of view, it might be true. After all, her explanations were bordering on cryptic to me. If I weren't concentrating, it'd be liable to go through one ear and out the other, but to rephrase something she said, it was almost like she was saying that the creation of a homonculus and the transfer of memory and knowledge weren't  all that important to Doctor Kitsuregawa—even though either of those would be a history-defining accomplishment possibly even more unprecedented than the discovery of aliens. But setting that aside, I'm not ready to move on to the details of the commission just yet. I'm not satisfied. I'm a pretty curious girl, you know. And I'm not good-natured enough to readily believe a five-year-old kid when she says something like “I'm a homonculus and the second generation Doctor Kitsuregawa.”

“I see. You're wiser than I thought, humanity's strongest. I'd thought that this might not interest you, since strength and conceit have some things in common.”

What? Are you making fun of me?

“No, I am praising you effusively... and it would be inconvenient to me if this were not the case.”

Inconvenient? Why would it be inconvenient to you if I was an idiot? Well, if I asked her that now, then we'd have to start getting into the details of the job, so I guess I'll ask later. I haven't decided whether to take the job or not, after all. Jun Aikawa doesn't have time to play along with a child's games (despite having had nothing to do just a little while ago).

“I said that what I inherited from Grandpa were memories and knowledge, did I not? In other words, I have not inherited his disposition or his personality—so the crotchety old man you were imagining... or rather, as he was known to the world, is not part of what I inherited.”

I am myself, nothing more or less, she said, not Doctor Motsure Kitsuregawa, but Hotsure Kitsuregawa. While I couldn't call her explanation easy to understand (after all, there's no precedent here), maybe this means that the transfer didn't go as far as the personality transference practiced by the Niounomiya Circus. The data was transferred, but the operating system changed... that's a problematic example, of course.

“......If you still do not understand, feel free to think of me as Doctor Kitsuregawa's apprentice—a beloved pupil who has been taught his secrets and taken over his research. That should be easier to accept than him transplanting his brain tissue into his granddaughter.”

You're right, but if that's not the truth, then of course I can't accept it. And it's hard to tell which is more inhumane, using your granddaughter in an experiment or creating artificial life to do it... Hotsure-chan.

“What?”

Well, I get that you're similar to Doctor Kitsuregawa but still a different person; your reasoning is that simply receiving memories and knowledge doesn't make you the same person, right?

“Yes. That is what I said.”

But doesn't that mean Doctor Kitsuregawa is dead, ultimately? As far as I know, he had the skill to “transmit” a human's personality, in lots of ways... Why did Doctor Kitsuregawa transfer his memories and knowledge to you but not his personality? You say you're his successor.

“Grandpa said that his personality had started getting in the way. It had grown old, and it was time to replace it.”

That's truly—how to put it... a philosophy that views personality as nothing more than a physical object. Well, for argument's sake, I can understand how people might come to think of others in that way; those who don't accept the personality rights of other people are present everywhere, in every time period. But this is his own personality we're talking about. Would anyone really think that the personality that had accompanied them for nearly a hundred years had “grown old and needed replacing”? Is it even possible? At the very least, I couldn't do it.

“What's wrong, Jun Aikawa? You're smiling.”

I'm at a loss for words. Doctor Kitsuregawa certainly lives up to his reputation as a man you'd never want to get involved with, even if you were just refusing to get involved—him and his delightfully nasty insanity. He turned a homonculus into his successor the same way you might transfer contact data between phones.

“Grandpa died soon after he passed all of his research findings on to me; his cause of death was old age, I suppose... But inside me, he still lives. He will live on forever inside my head.”

It was almost like she were saying “He will always live on in my heart,” but this isn't that kind of happy tale. If an ordinary person were his successor, their nervous system would get fried, but as you'd expect from a homonculus raised from birth—no, from nothing—by Doctor Kitsuregawa, she showed no signs of self-doubt or hesitation. This is probably a pointless question, but do you have any evidence that what you're saying is true? If you could just show me some evidence that you're a homonculus, Hotsure-chan, I'd really appreciate it.

“Do you think Grandpa would leave behind any evidence?”

She made it sound like the perfect crime. Well, this isn't the middle ages; if you checked it against modern-day laws, you'd probably find that almost all of Doctor Kitsuregawa's research was criminal.

“It's up to you whether or not to believe us, Jun Aikawa. Either way, if this is too far-fetched for you to accept, then you have no chance of being able to fulfill our request.”

Why's the one asking me for something being all high-and-mighty? A little girl shouldn't be this stuck-up. She's reminding me of myself—makes me sick. But regardless of her age, telling me “You have no chance of being able to fulfill our request” is too much, even as a provocation. Okay, Hotsure Kitsuregawa. And Matsuri Shimegiwa. I'll believe your silly story. I feel a little bewildered, but I'll write this off as having been tricked, and I'll go along with it.

“You'll end up regretting this.”

I just might, this time.