98

I met eyes that looked straight at me — and I understood at a glance that there was no way I could bend her will.

But I also had my own circumstances, so I couldn’t accept that unconditionally.

And I could no longer reveal the reasons, indeed I needed to keep the truth hidden.

(A taboo, huh… That damn hag made a fuss about that before. If this falls under the same category, no matter how I think about it I’m probably a candidate for eradication.)

What I wanted help with and what they intended to do did not line up at all.

With the current atmosphere that felt like they might wipe out that underground facility entirely, there was no way I could agree to the possibility that my base would be destroyed.

Then again, stubbornly refusing might arouse suspicion.

So I chose my words carefully and tested the waters with a slightly extreme conclusion:

“So, does that mean you intend to destroy my base?”

“In some cases, we think that would be necessary.”

She affirmed it flatly, and I fell silent as I stared up at the ceiling.

Apparently the term “taboo” carried far more weight than I had expected.

What purpose lay behind this hardline stance towards me?

(Do they think I’ll accept it… or are they prepared to crush me even if it means eliminating me?)

If it was the former, they were being overly presumptuous; if the latter, they didn’t understand my capabilities.

Or perhaps they were prepared to go that far — but I couldn’t see a reason that would demand such measures.

The key word was “taboo” — and because I didn’t know the weight behind that word, I couldn’t make sense of her attitude.

I closed my mouth, which had started to open, and put pen to the memo again.

“What is a taboo?”

There were many things I wanted to ask, but this question would most simply reveal the result.

Number Six read the memo and everyone around fell silent.

The flowing quiet answered,

“This is not something you can talk about lightly.”

(I figured it was probably classified for the elves or something equivalent.)

In short, I couldn’t get an answer.

When I decided that, Number Six spoke.

“A taboo is something dangerous that could change the order of the world — that is how we define it.”

I tilted my head at the way she put it.

That phrasing made it sound as if the original meaning was different, and as I suspected she continued.

“The original meaning was different. It began with knowledge from another world that once nearly destroyed the world — that was the start of ‘taboo,’ and over the millennia that we elves watched the world it changed… what it means now and what it meant in the past are not the same.”

Her outlandish words almost made me blurt, “Are you sane?” but the explanation wasn’t finished, so I kept quiet and gestured for her to go on.

“And the reason we intervened in the Fullretos Empire was because of taboos from the past.”

I was surprised she mentioned the Empire, but if what she said was true it explained the extraordinary level of technology that set them apart from neighboring countries.

It was hard to accept at face value, but there was no reason to bring that story up here unless there was cause, and the fact that it had been a civilization clearly beyond the norm remained unchanged.

If so, her otherworldly words gained a little more credibility.

“Why tell me this story?”

“If we assume that you have acquired various kinds of knowledge through Imperial books and other sources, then your perspective would inevitably be that of that nation. So we judged that telling you everything would be most effective in persuading you.”

The phrase that first came to mind was “a straight-up fight,” but that probably wasn’t her intent.

By presenting sincerity up front she must have taken “me as a person” into account — a generous assessment for someone who had become a monster.

I felt both pleased and embarrassed, and decided to accept the compliment.

“We tried to root out the seeds of taboo from the Empire… but the result was dreadful. Everything was engulfed in flames; despite great sacrifice, we still could not eliminate it all.”

I felt a slight shock at being included in her words.

At the same time, the Empire had been destroyed — well, it had effectively blown itself up — and the elves were undeniably a major factor in the cause.

As a recruit still in training, I had no claims of avenging comrades or anything like that, but in retrospect the elves were positioned as enemies of the Empire.

(Maybe I got a little too close.)

I didn’t pause to reflect on my lack of sense; instead I shook my head, recalling the many beautiful naked forms of the women I had seen and stored in my mind.

After all, it was a story from two hundred years ago; even if they were former Imperial people, from the human point of view it was a past event.

And as a monster, it would be inappropriate for me to intervene.

So I thought it wasn’t my place to say anything.

Having resolved to live fully in the present, I needed their cooperation by any means necessary.

Specifically, I wanted to see more risqué scenes.

Or rather, if things went well, perhaps my wish to be with them could even be granted.

My intentions were obvious, yet this grim face was almost always a poker face.

(There was no fear of being found out. So then — ah, no. I’d forgotten the worst-case scenario.)

It was a classic lose-lose.

Since I didn’t know how much longer I could keep my human reason intact, I couldn’t stay long.

But if I thought about it the other way—

‘Short-term would be fine, right?’

I thought.

And what did I see — a wonderful prospect spread out before me!

Aside from the meals, I could read elven books in my spare time.

Their way of dealing with those brats wasn’t bad either, so it was certain I would continue associating with them.

That meant I could join the skirmishes at the river — in other words, I would have an excuse to touch the seemingly well-guarded body of Number Six.

And that wasn’t all.

From having peeked — or rather witnessed — them bathing in the river regularly, it went without saying that elves were clean, and they played in the river for fun and games.

I could take part in that too.

(Wait, do elves have a bathing custom?)

Since they went to the river often to bathe, it seemed possible — no, I hoped fervently that it was true.

Public baths would be even better.

I wanted the elf ladies to kindly teach me about bathing in detail.

Better yet, if there were something like an “elf bath” that I could join, that would be perfect.

“Um… are you listening?”

A frosty voice, like a splash of cold water, cut through my daydreaming.

Damn — my fantasies had run a little wild.

I curled my body apologetically and quietly handed Number Six a memo that read “Please say it again,” and with a sigh she began to tell me the parts I had missed.

But think about it.

With the Empire gone, I could no longer see all the things I should have seen — like gravure idols and such — not everything, but many things were no longer accessible.

So it wouldn’t be a sin for those women to give me a little service in their stead.

I wrapped up that line of thought and focused on Number Six’s story for the time being.

I asked her to skip the parts she had gone back over and to bring the story back to the course of the war with the Empire.

“We searched for the root of the Empire’s taboo. But we couldn’t find it. Everything ended that day — when the ground trembled and flames devoured the city.”

It was probably the explosion that happened in the Imperial capital.

Accident or not, I pictured the ruins of the capital that had become a desert and looked up at the ceiling.

Perhaps the weapon capable of causing an explosion on that scale was the “taboo” they were seeking.

But that was something I could no longer know.

“In the end we couldn’t identify the source — the ‘person who possessed knowledge from another world’ — nor find what he had created; we only increased the number of sacrifices in vain.”

Watching Number Six speak with a tragic expression, I almost reached out my hand.

“Why would the elves get involved?”

“Why would the elves start a war?”

I had my whispered questions from when I was still human answered.

But even so nothing would change, and since it was already history, hearing more wouldn’t give me any power to act.

“Only one thing. Some argue that, whether out of the madness of war or because some lost their sanity and proclaimed ‘explosions are art,’ that led to the scenes of that day — and some still agonize, wondering if our choice was wrong.”

Sorry — that actually was sane.

Among the Empire’s engineers there were indeed some who made bizarre weapons.

Knowing the fact that every so-called new weapon was made and then inevitably exploded as part of the routine, I felt like someone telling me a ridiculous family anecdote, and it made me uncomfortable.

How much easier would it be if I could just say, “Don’t worry about it”?

I looked back up at the ceiling and let Number Six’s words wash over me.

The more detailed the content, the more embarrassed I was to listen.

Internally tormented by this unexpected assault of shame from Number Six, I simply yearned for the story to end.