178

I picked up the diary that had slipped from my hand.

Its importance wasn’t particularly high.

But I was unsure whether I should take it back with me.

The existence of me carrying this diary around.

And the possibility that someone other than me who needed this might come here.

The former reason was stronger, but honestly, I also wanted people to know that even within the Empire there had been researchers who thought this way.

At the same time, I also didn’t want to inform someone like me of this hopeless ending.

Weighing the possibility that carrying it might extinguish against the possibility it might create, I decided to take this diary with me.

“…So your name was ‘Sarya Rentoston.’ I will remember your name. So please forgive me for carrying this diary that holds your feelings.”

It was an Imperial-style salute for the first time in who knew how long.

Last time I was told it was unnecessary, but even so, for someone I believed deserved my respect, I should offer it fully.

Its condition was still relatively better, but since it was something from two hundred years ago, I had to handle it carefully.

Even without knowledge, I tried to preserve it inside a sealed space.

Conveniently, I obtained a metal box in the room, and the size was just right, so I stored it there.

If I filled the gaps with papers scattered around and prepared for shocks too, I had done as much as I could think of.

Thinking I probably had no more business here, I was about to look for the next room when an idea crossed my mind.

“Weren’t there others too?”

I repeated the words that had slipped out, again in my head.

“Even in the other research facilities, weren’t there researchers who thought like her?”

And with that question, the light of lost hope flickered to life again.

It hadn’t been in the facility I was using as my current base.

There wasn’t zero chance I’d overlooked it despite searching that hard, but it also wasn’t realistic.

The first base—the one with the spider-man—had collapsed.

But at the very least, there was certainly one more.

The laboratory of a subject that seemed tied to the Chimera Project, feared as the “Forest’s Nightmare” and having completely lost its ego.

(Geographically, there are still facilities left on the western side.)

Reaching that conclusion, I lifted my face.

But what I needed to do now was explore this facility.

And if I was going to find a new facility, it would be after I finished exploring the eastern side.

To switch gears, I slapped my own cheek.

Because of the outer hide’s hardness, it didn’t make the sound I expected, and a hard, knobbly sensation transmitted to my hand, but it was enough to wake me up.

I moved to the next room.

As long as this light magic lasted, the search wouldn’t stop.

That was me trying to sound cool—about five minutes ago.

Apparently I’d brightened things more than necessary while reading the diary, consuming mana, and I was already nearing empty.

So I decided to take a break once.

“My mana capacity really is small, huh.”

I recalled my time in the elf village and how I should have properly learned efficient mana usage.

But even if I rested, doing nothing felt unsettling.

So I moved to the next room, searched at random, grabbed a stack of papers, and returned to the surface with it.

Night still hadn’t broken.

Even so, I wouldn’t have trouble with light because I had a tool to start a fire.

I tossed dried leaves and branches I’d gathered at random into a simple stove made from rubble, then pressed the tip of the tool I’d used many times for ignition against it and burned the fuel.

I sat down in a convenient spot, and when I looked at the first sheet in the stack, I saw a line starting with “Goliath,” partially hidden by my finger.

Something I couldn’t find despite searching that hard now existed in what I’d casually picked up.

I felt somewhat dissatisfied for no clear reason, but as reading material until my mana recovered, it was perfect.

At once, I shifted where my fingers held the stack and read the contents.

“Goliath… lizard?”

But what was written there was the name of a creature I’d never heard of.

Letting my gaze slide down to check the contents, it seemed this “Goliath Lizard” was the name of the monster used in my genetic enhancement.

“Lizard… so it was a lizard, huh.”

Yeah, well, I had been aware I seemed reptilian.

A new fact I learned in an unexpected place.

It was late, but it was still new information, so it was a gain all the same.

Personally I would’ve preferred a cooler monster, but if I thought back to the Chimera Project subject, this fell into the relatively better category.

I convinced myself, “I shouldn’t be greedy,” and kept reading.

The first page, simply put, was about “the advantages of using Goliath Lizard genes.”

Those advantages were, by now, nothing new if you looked at my specs.

For the moment, I learned that this Goliath Lizard had camouflage ability, long-distance vision, and even regenerative ability.

But there was no mention of any ability corresponding to Assault Mode.

Information I didn’t particularly want kept gathering in my hands, and it was becoming a situation where only the crucial piece of the puzzle called truth was missing.

Even so, as I read on, I realized something.

“This… looks like pre-experiment materials.”

I couldn’t fully understand the contents, but I could say for certain that this was from before a genetically enhanced soldier using the Goliath Lizard had been created.

It lined up candidate monsters from Chimera Project data, inferred various advantages from many angles, and wrote predicted specs for the completed form.

In the Goliath Lizard section, there was a red circle marked “Selected,” showing my guess had been correct.

If so, it didn’t seem like this held important information.

Since it was just reading material until my mana recovered, I kept reading, but there probably wouldn’t be anything significant.

And as expected, there was nothing I wanted, and since I’d spent enough time for my mana to recover, I went back underground again.

Search resumed—first, the room I had just entered.

If something like that had been there, it wouldn’t be strange if other documents remained too.

I floated the light magic at my fingertip and arrived at the room without even a chance of losing my way.

I started searching the room at once, and what I found was a monster encyclopedia.

I knew I shouldn’t be taking detours.

But what caught my interest caught my interest.

I reached out, pulled the encyclopedia from the shelf, and looked up the Goliath Lizard entry.

“…It’s faded, so it’s hard to tell.”

If I was struggling to read letters, then of course photos would be the same.

Thinking it hadn’t meant much, I put it back on the shelf—then the text on another book caught my eye.

The author’s name on the book made me look twice—once I saw the word “Zeta,” my hand reached out whether I wanted it to or not.

I picked it up and looked inside, but I quickly realized it wasn’t what I wanted.

It was probably a paper on genetic modification technology that I couldn’t understand without specialized knowledge.

I let out a deep breath and put the book back.

As I did, I noticed a single photo between the books.

It was so stark white it stood out from the surrounding conditions, and I reached for it without thinking.

When I touched the photo, I could tell from its hardness that it had been processed for preservation.

Assuming it was probably a family photo or something, I flipped over the one that had been face-down.

And there was my older sister in a swimsuit.

“…And it’s even signed.”

Looks like they were a fan of my sister.

As always, she had an impressive figure.

Even lined up next to Number Six, she probably wouldn’t lose—was that just family bias?

Anyway, I secured it.

It was a precious family photo.

I didn’t know who the owner was, but I would gratefully take this photo.

The unexpected find lifted my mood just a little.

By the way, my sister’s signed posters and bromides used to be traded for quite a price.

Back then, when I tried asking for one to make a little pocket money, I got a truly spectacular short uppercut that punched my jaw clean through.

After that, I remembered I never made requests like that again.

While I was basking in nostalgia with a “That takes me back,” I spotted text that caught my interest on the binder I picked up next.

“…Goliath Report.”

When I opened the binder whose title already looked promising, there was a thick stack of documents properly clipped inside.

It was great that I could be very hopeful, but the condition was a bit poor.

Anything that required turning pages carefully took nerves.

And when I turned the first page and saw the contents, I regretted it.

“Well, it’s not like I couldn’t imagine something like this existing.”

What was written there was the final moments of those who couldn’t endure the genetic modification stages—and the process.

Countless deaths written down matter-of-factly.

It made me feel sick.

But even that quickly faded, as if a switch flipped, and I returned to calm.

“‘Don’t be angry’ would be the impossible request.”

I gave a wry smile at my own voice, which sounded like an excuse.

There probably wasn’t the information I wanted in this.

Even so, I kept reading the documents clipped in the binder all the way to the end.

Where had the Empire gone wrong?

The one who could answer that question was probably no longer left in this world.