The Way to Love in the Place of Dead Chapter 18

When Kay checked his wrist, the man’s eyes also rounded as if surprised.

“Oh, damn. It’s you. I’m curious. What’s your relationship with Aran Rapperd?”

If he had to define it, a contractual relationship.

“Do I have any obligation to answer?”

As if the answer displeased him, the man pouted his lips and straightened himself up.

“Of course not. Anyway, what brings a celebrity like you here?”

Unsure whether his name was written on the bracelet, or if Limpus natives had some method of distinguishing among themselves, Kay answered the man’s question.

“I came to see Simon.”

“Simon Yeager? Wasn’t it that he ran away?”

“Ran away?”

At the unsettling word, Kay’s brow furrowed.

“Well, because he’s from Willamere.”

“And?”

“It’s not uncommon for Willamere natives to cut off their bracelets and run away from the Center.”

Kay recalled Chapter 5 of the ‘Limpus Living Guidebook’ he had been reading until the morning.

“I heard that the bracelets affixed by the Center come with location tracking and can’t be removed without authorization.”

Which was why Kay had also accepted the bracelet that wouldn’t come off even when he used his power.

“Technology always has its flaws. There’s software sold on the black market through illegal channels that can unlock the bracelets, and if it comes down to it, there are even surgical procedures to cut off the wrist and reattach it.”

The reason Willamere people didn’t seek out words like dreams, future, or hope was probably because they carried on with lives where it was difficult even to properly see what light was, under the dome of Limpus. Thus, an irony coexisted: longing for Limpus while yearning for a sun they had never seen in their lives, and hating Limpus natives while also wanting to become part of them.

And to come to Limpus after winning the esper lottery, to cut off the bracelet, launder a new identity, and wish for freedom—that wasn’t strange at all. Except.

“There’s no way Simon would do that.”

At Kay’s assertion, the two men exchanged glances. One sneered at what he saw as naivety, while Gray’s tone suggested he was willing to hear the reason.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because his living expenses would be cut off.”

“Huh?”

As if it were a reason they had never expected, the two looked dumbfounded, so Kay added an explanation.

“Simon came from an orphanage. That orphanage is currently run by one young woman, taking care of twelve parentless children.”

To the two who still didn’t understand, Kay delivered the final point.

“It means they’re living off the money Simon sends from Limpus.”

“But he could earn money in other ways and send it.”

“Right. Once he’s free, he could work a safe part-time job, even if it’s not as much as the life allowance.”

Kay had been mulling over why he was getting so irritated and then realized. It was because even though they hung a nameplate together under the title of roommates, to them, Simon was less than a stranger.

“You guys, who don’t even care that someone’s been gone for three weeks, probably don’t know this, but Simon isn’t the type of person to abandon his duty for his own selfish desires. Even if that duty was for worthless bastards like you.”

It had already been over five years since Simon left for Limpus. Thanks to the money deposited faithfully every month for five years, Lea had been able to run the orphanage without want, and Simon knew this too. If he had been only looking out for himself, there had been plenty of opportunities to leave the orphanage after becoming an adult, and there would have been no reason to keep sending living expenses to the orphanage for five years.

Kay pushed past the two men and stepped inside the quarters, asking.

“Which room is Simon’s?”

∞ ∞ ∞

Before the Citadel in Sector H.

Legion Commander Tato, who had ordered the formation of the front line and withdrawal of troops by today, looked at Aran standing upon the land where the battle had just concluded. Raising his spear high, Aran pierced and shattered the core of the ability unit lying at his feet, and stood there, confirming its shutdown to the very last moment.

Upon the earth flowing with mountains of metal and green blood, he stood as a shadow cast by the sun, which had just passed its zenith. Had it not been for the thousands of machines piled at his feet, the figure would have resembled that of a saint at prayer.

“Well done, Aran.”

Wiping the green oil that had splattered on his face with the hem of his clothes, he looked at the ability unit at his feet and tilted his head.

“Don’t you think the ability units have increased significantly?”

“I’ve already filed the report, so the Center should be aware as well.”

The ability units that had appeared at some point during the war were machines that possessed esper-like abilities.

Each time units of a version that humanity had never once planned, never once programmed, and never once produced appeared one after another, the battlefield was thrown into turmoil. From the fear evoked by the unknown beings and the dread evoked by the espers’ power.

“They’ve increased, that’s for sure, but I get a sense of déjà vu.”

The ability units, which some called the ‘evolution of androids,’ were sometimes absurdly weak and sometimes so strong that even Aran was surprised, making them constant wildcards on the battlefield, a recent headache.

“But since we’ve come this far, there shouldn’t be any issues up to the Citadel’s entrance. For the remaining period, you…”

The legion commander paused briefly and then added.

“You and that new recruit, make sure you prepare well.”

An unusual glint shimmered in his eyes.

“Of course.”

Tato, who had been quietly watching Aran, who was smiling beautifully while manipulating his bracelet, finally asked.

“What exactly do you like about him so much? I can’t imagine you showing that much interest simply because he’s an S-rank.”

At the legion commander’s words, Aran’s eyes widened.

“Like…? Hmm… ‘Like,’ huh.”

Even though the subject in question had been omitted, Aran understood immediately, yet he simply rolled his large eyes halfway around, offering no clear answer. It was unbefitting for the brilliant mind that had completed the military academy in a short period.

“That’s a good way to put it.”

“Eh?”

“If I like him, it means I want to cherish him, but at the same time, it bothers me when he moves, that sort of thing, right?”

“I can’t give you an answer to that even if you ask me.”

As if he hadn’t expected one anyway, Aran smiled and was enveloped in light.

Within the pillar of light descending from the sky, Aran said a short farewell—’I’ll be back.’—and vanished. It was only later that Tato realized he had never received an answer to his question after all.

∞ ∞ ∞

Simon’s room was completely different from Kay’s. Five years’ worth of everyday life was plainly evident. One entire wall had been covered with adhesive sheets by Simon himself, then densely decorated with various landscape photos, postcards, and posters. Among them was affixed a hand-drawn sketch of Willamere’s dark, dim village, and seeing it, Kay became certain that Simon could never have abandoned the orphanage and left of his own volition.

“I showed you in, but how far are you planning to rummage around?”

Kay, who had entered Simon’s room, grew angrier as he checked the interior item by item: the decorated room, the civilian clothes that had been taken off and left unkempt to one side, and even a large backpack still there.

“Just looking at the room tells you he didn’t leave by his own choice.”

Having crawled under the bed and come back out, Kay dusted himself off. Along with a shallow cough, he held a small notebook in one hand. In Limpus, where most records were kept digitally, a handwritten notebook was not common.

“What’s that?”

“A diary. It might tell me when he went missing, or where he went before he disappeared.”

“How do you… never mind, forget it.”

Gray, who had shut his mouth at Kay’s sharp glance, peered at Simon’s notebook alongside him. The most recent entry was a record of returning safely from a prolonged battle. And the next day, the 15th, had a circle drawn around it.

Kay examined a few more pages of the recorded entries. And on the calendar as well, there was likewise a yellow circle on the 15th, along with the letter F marked on it.

“Do you have any idea what this might mean?”

When Kay held out the notebook, Gray flinched slightly, then looked at the other markings on the calendar and answered, “Ah.”

“I think it means Sector F.”

Where his finger pointed, there were markings on the same month indicating specific sectors, such as A, C—24.

“And the circle?”

“As a schedule marker… though the color is different.”

While all other schedules and records were in either black or blue, the circle on the 15th was yellow.

The 15th. Sector F. A full yellow circle.

“Isn’t it the Full Moon Auction?”