Chapter – 22
Three people stood in front of a cage-like prison, surrounded by darkness.
Me, Rizewin, and Hyacinth.
Rizewin handed a book to Hyacinth.
“Read this.”
At the strange suggestion, she hesitated a little, but perhaps trusting her mentor’s reasoning, she soon began reading aloud from the book, loud enough for me to hear as well.
“Last night, I received a message from Shimizu. The wandering Shimizu. A person we hadn’t heard from for years, whom we assumed long dead. But more intriguing than the fact that he was alive was a single line in his letter: ‘Immortality has been discovered.'”
As a magician, I could hardly suppress my interest. Immortality. Not dying. Ridiculous, surely? Or perhaps he was joking, claiming skeletons walking around as immortals—I would have gladly smashed his head in that case.”
“What Shimizu brought to the promised location—or rather, brought along—was not skeletons, but something even more absurd.”
If his explanation had been delayed even a little, I would have struck without hesitation. In fact, I did. And for good reason. What Shimizu brought was, on the surface, a perfectly ordinary child.”
“The spell I cast was blocked in an extraordinarily bizarre way. He grabbed the child by the nape of the neck and used him as a shield.”
I knew the man was crazy, but I hadn’t imagined him this insane. A demon, perhaps? Had he returned as a demon during those years of absence?
My former carefree companion, who used to laugh at everything, was laid out before me in pieces by the spell. His belly torn open, innards exposed—it was a sight that would make anyone frown.”
As Hyacinth read, her complexion paled.
The mentor urged her to continue reading the journal without pause.
“Was his only purpose to provoke me? I thought this time I must kill him for sure. The thing lying on the ground writhed, and in the blink of an eye, returned to its original form.”
It was almost as if I had imagined it. No creature I had ever seen possessed such regenerative power. Shimizu called it immortality. I wasn’t naive enough to believe him immediately, but I had no choice but to accept that this was no ordinary human.”
“As expected, Remidia was thrown into chaos by what he had brought. For the first time in ages, the High Council of the school convened. The elders debated for eight long hours how to handle immortality.”
Some shouted that it was the key to unraveling the mystery of immortality; others questioned whether it could truly be defined as such. We wrestled with how to utilize it. No experiment or outcome could satisfy our curiosity. None of us could grasp its potential.
Just as the council grew exhausted and the discussions waned… Shimizu burst into the hall. Reeking of cheap alcohol as if he had drunk straight from the bottle, scratching the back of his head with his bent tongue, he said:”
Hyacinth stopped mid-sentence, her voice faltering as if she had forgotten how to speak.
Her pupils seemed to shake in all directions.
“…What happens if you cut it exactly in half?”
“……”
“I’ll… continue reading…”
“Like a fuse igniting oil, our curiosity blazed. Few magicians could resist such explosive intrigue. Respect for life could not outweigh the pursuit of knowledge. That is what we, as magicians—scholars walking the path of magic—were. Shimizu continued:”
“Isn’t it fascinating? The body recovers slowly from the damage. Even a tiny fragment of flesh would soon restore it. I wondered how it regenerated. At first, I thought some organ must be the basis for resurrection, but no matter how I searched, there was none. Head, heart, toes, no matter which part remains, it regenerates the same. So, what happens if you cut it in half? Will it regenerate as one, or will each half become separate? If not, what principle governs it? I showed this to you for this very reason. I tried several times myself. I wasn’t perfect, but it always regenerated as one.”
“Unanimously, we decided how to handle immortality. Everyone was curious about what Shimizu wondered. We secretly established a laboratory. Such experiments would surely attract criticism. If the Tower’s head found out, there would be trouble. And we couldn’t inform other schools; disputes over immortality would erupt instantly. After much deliberation, those selected were honored to become the lab’s researchers. After all, it was immortality—something that could not die. The research began.”
“Day after day, we tore the immortal’s body apart in countless ways. At first with physical force, then with magical apparatus, finally even using unsettling divine methods. As humans, with human hearts, we retained our conscience. At that point, one would think conscience might override curiosity, but none of us stopped. We were obsessed with cutting the immortal in half. Was it because the child did not scream? Or because he seemed unaffected by pain, blinking not once?”
“Soon, we invented a device to measure precisely how much was cut. Such a thing was indispensable to our research. With so much talent assembled, invention took little time.”
51.99%, 49.88%, 50.012%, 49.80%.
“I recorded the experiment results daily.”
73.009%? Hey, why is the error so large? Ah, that’s… Adol got frustrated because it didn’t work and sharpened the saw on his shoulder. Crazy bastard.”
50.8802%, 49.992%, 52.81%, 50.9902%, 51%, 49.32%, 53.459%, 41.42%, 58.792%, 48.33%, 49.8978%, 51.74%, 60.77%, 50.4982%, 47.9823%, 49.561%, 51.079%, 49.98%, 50.3211%, 50.0001% … Damn!”
“When the experiment’s subject regenerated, fragments that had separated from the axis did not simply vanish. Of course, debris remained. Piles of underdeveloped halves accumulated quickly, and we disposed of them appropriately.”
“Cutting exactly in half was far more difficult than we imagined. Shimizu’s wandering spirit soon took him away again. I did not see him off. Weeks passed without him, and I ignored it, assuming he had left as usual. That was the kind of man he was.”
“Half a year of repeated failures. Thousands of attempts, and not once did we successfully cut the immortal in half. Members began leaving. First one, then within three months half of the thirty had departed. Though unspoken, the remaining were growing weary of the mechanical repetitions.”
“Today, someone intruded into the lab.”
“The intruder introduced herself as Calam Castruna. The name was familiar. She had appeared suddenly in Kaindea, recognized for her exceptional skill and intellect, now lauded as a beacon of the Tower. How? There was no time to even guess the circumstances. She observed the day’s leftover debris with interest, then spoke with gleaming eyes:”
“Enough of these trivialities. Let’s do something more interesting.”
Her words were both a suggestion and a threat. Even the most liberal Tower would not forgive such experiments. Expulsion would be mild; one could not silence her by killing her. Yet surprisingly, all of us renowned magicians of Remidia felt an uncanny fear. We had no choice but to follow her directive… No, that was a lie. We were simply exhausted. Shimizu’s initial proposal, and Castruna’s words, were the trigger.”
“Calam Castruna brought lions, leopards, and some monsters, anesthetized them, then cut, joined, and stitched the body parts with pieces of the experiment subject’s skin. She even placed magic stones, and we were baffled. Rejection reactions would prevent movement or result in instant death. Yet her experiment succeeded, dispelling all doubts.”
“We began converting the laboratory into a prison. Under Castruna’s supervision, we monitored the subjects’ progress. Eight incubation rooms were created, each containing dozens to hundreds of subjects. Each one possessed strength to easily tear apart ten adult men and could not die thanks to immortality. Were we preparing for war? No one voiced the question. The lab became a prison, and research shifted from cutting the immortal in half to creating biological weapons.”
“Still, the experiments continued. The child remained expressionless, endured grotesque abuses, and regenerated. No result satisfied us. Even the smallest margin of error could not be eliminated. The great Shimizu had given up.”
“Thus, the original research progressed not at all. The days continued, filled with accumulating bioweapons. Then, one day, Calam Castruna, who seemed indifferent to the research, asked me:”
“Are you really having fun with this?”
One of us replied: This is to uncover the origin of life. If successful…
Forget that. I realized you were attempting the impossible. The woman ended her words. Discontent swirled among the researchers. I took the lead. How do you know if it’s possible or impossible? She answered naturally, without hesitation, as if prepared for the question.”
“Cutting something exactly in half isn’t easy. I’ll show you.”
She stood by the child, fiddled with our measuring device, and asked:
“This is what you use, right? When this shows exactly 50%, the experiment ends. Have you ever succeeded?”
“Embarrassingly, no. That’s why we’ve been doing this foolish thing for months. How do you do it?”
“Method? I set arbitrary coordinates in the subject’s space, take the sum of the end coordinates, halve it, and manifest magic there.”
“Not bad. Shall we try it?”
…
The experiment succeeded. The device indicated exactly 50, without a decimal point.
