142

Unpleasant predictions often had a way of coming true.

Maybe it was just that those cases stayed in memory more vividly, but as I looked at a guide board so degraded I couldn’t even tell what was where anymore, my shoulders slumped.

Instead of simply accepting, “Well, that’s how it is,” I shook the metal board violently in a fit of irritation.

Still, it wasn’t a total loss.

From the faint traces of remaining color, I inferred the direction of an arrow and a few letters.

For now, I decided to head toward the general center and gather information there.

Fortunately, a building that looked like it fit the bill was easy to find.

Even inside a gigantic theme park surrounded by walls, any structure left unmanaged for years and exposed to wind and rain would crumble.

With some buildings collapsed, visibility improved, making the target easier to spot.

The problem was that the general center—something that should have been obvious even from a distance—had collapsed.

A building that greeted me with supports bent under weight and smashed into the ground was, in a word, a mountain of rubble.

“Yeah… it’s collapsed.”

Maybe it was luck in misfortune, but as I cleared rubble here and there and searched for anything useful, I found a guide board in surprisingly good condition.

I had to lie flat and shove my face between debris, but I learned the location of the central management center.

At the same time, I also got a rough picture of the park’s overall layout.

I couldn’t make out the southern side, but since I could mostly read the northern side, I could at least guess what might be in the unreadable areas.

I trudged along a ruined asphalt road.

As I walked, I kept scanning the area, searching for anything else that might have been given some sort of magical treatment besides that clock.

Naturally, I found nothing and arrived at my destination.

It went without saying that the building was made for humans, so there was no entrance anywhere that I could fit through.

Even if it was in relatively decent shape, forcing an entry point for a body this huge would definitely risk collapse.

So I carefully searched around the building, and from a half-rotted signboard, I learned there was a loading entrance connected to this place a short distance away.

I couldn’t determine the exact location, so I wandered around a bit—and found a likely spot far more easily than expected.

It must have been a sturdy shutter, because goblins couldn’t do anything to it. I studied the box-shaped structure, still very much intact.

“One entrance. It isn’t connected to the center aboveground, so it must link underground…”

I reminded myself not to get buried alive, then placed my hands on the shutter.

A place that other species hadn’t breached was precious.

So I lifted the shutter carefully, trying not to break it if at all possible.

Depending on its condition, even the base plan I’d nearly abandoned could become realistic again, so I adjusted my strength with genuine care.

Thanks to that, the shutter safely… deformed, and with the bonus of my handprints, it retired from duty as a door.

(It looked fine, but it was rusted and wouldn’t lift cleanly!)

Making excuses to myself, I bid farewell to the barrier that had kept goblins out and stepped inside.

There was no untouched base candidate waiting for me—only the miserable remains of a warehouse that had been thoroughly ransacked.

“Ah… right. This connects to the other side.”

What caught my eye were smashed machines and empty boxes that had clearly been carried off.

Most wooden containers had lost their original shape, but boxes made of metal or synthetic resin hadn’t been broken.

On a whim, I checked the ones in better condition and found that some were still locked and unopened.

I’ll skip the contents since nothing useful came out, but there was one thing I could use.

“Oh… that’s a better fit than I expected.”

I let out a satisfied sound as I looked at the saber nestled into a shallow, upright rectangular case lined with cloth.

I’d been bothered by the blade being exposed this whole time, so it was a welcome solution in an unexpected place.

The edge wasn’t that sharp, so I wasn’t worried about it slicing my gear, but bothersome was still bothersome.

With nothing else standing out, I headed deeper.

And immediately got stuck in a corridor.

Human-sized spaces were narrow and miserable.

So I left my gear behind and tried again.

“Yeah, yeah—you like brute force, right?” I muttered as I twisted my body through the passage like a narrow hole and forced my way through.

I smashed doors along with the surrounding walls and searched the rooms one by one.

I was worried about the ceiling collapsing, but I managed to reach what looked like the right room.

I wriggled into a room packed with monitors, then stretched an arm toward the equipment in front of me in a pose like some middle-aged guy watching TV while lying down on his day off.

I tried operating it, but nothing responded no matter what I did.

“No clue what the problem is.”

Was the power out? Or were the machines broken?

Or was there an issue with the power cables?

Without the knowledge, I couldn’t tell.

With no choice, I went back to searching elsewhere, breaking bits of wall here and there as I moved.

After the date changed and dawn was not far off, I finally found something that looked like a real haul.

I carried it outside, held it with both hands, and spun it around once.

It was a heavy, square safe. After confirming its condition carefully, my chest swelled with hope that it was unopened.

And it had a mana response.

(Meaning either there was something here worth leaving behind even with magical measures… or something they tried to protect even if it required that kind of method.)

If it was documents, it depended on the contents.

If it was a data disc, then it was a dud—I’d have to find functioning equipment to use it.

Low chance, but if it was precious metals, that would be a hit.

“All right, let’s open it,” I thought—and started prying it open… but contrary to expectations, it didn’t budge.

“Got it. It’s reinforced by magic,” I adjusted my assumption and tried again with more strength.

I wrestled with it for about a minute, but even at full power, it wouldn’t open.

“Huh… so bare hands won’t do it.”

Typical of my homeland—this was impressive work, a safe sturdy enough that even I couldn’t break it.

So I pulled out an Imperial tower shield.

Bracing the safe firmly with both feet, I slammed the alloy slab—something even my strongest kick couldn’t destroy—into it with full force.

The metallic ringing made my whole body shudder, but after repeating it several times, the safe finally warped.

After that, I jammed the shield into the gap, widened the opening, and successfully retrieved the contents without damaging them.

And as for what was inside…

To be blunt, it was a miss.

“…Looks like important contracts and paperwork, plus a data disc.”

So much effort for nothing, I thought as I turned the disc over in my hand.

A label reading “Combat Data” was stuck on it, and when I flipped through the papers carefully, I spotted the word “elf,” so I guessed it was from the war era.

I really wanted to know what was on it, but unfortunately I still hadn’t found any intact device capable of playing this data.

Maybe there was one somewhere in this facility, but throughout my search, the only thing that had shown a mana response was that safe.

Idly toying with the data disc between my fingers, I kept flipping through the stack of papers.

Only the soft rustle of turning pages echoed in the looted warehouse.

With fingers that had become a bit more dexterous than before, I pinched a sheet and turned it.

I skimmed it, skipped whatever had nothing to do with me, and moved on.

Soon, what had become routine abruptly stopped—because I thought I’d seen an unexpected term.

I flipped one page back and traced the Imperial-language text with my fingertip.

And I found the word that had caught my eye.

“…The Chimera Project.”

The unexpected find made me mutter aloud.

If that name was here—then what exactly was that “Combat Data” referring to?

To find out, I had to keep searching.

Depending on what was on that disc, it might solve my biggest problem.

But that was only a possibility.

(Still, it’s worth looking.)

First, I’d thoroughly search this place.

But before that, there was one thing I needed to do.

There was still a little time before dawn, but I began reading through the documents I’d taken.

Waiting until it got brighter would be more efficient—but I couldn’t suppress my impatience.