Saikyou Series Volume 2 S1chapter 8

Jinrui Saikyou no Jun'ai – Nisioisin
p. 37-45

Immortal youth is one of humanity’s dreams, but it will forever remain a dream. It is an aspiration sought after since ancient times, and it will never be more than an aspiration. There’s no such thing as a human who doesn’t die—everyone dies. There are those whose long lives beggar belief, and my fathers were apparently quite enamored with them, but they were neither immortal nor forever young… well, those people are a fascinating topic for researchers to study, make no mistake. It’s a topic that seemed to be of common interest to both Doctor Kitsuregawa and my fathers, those deviant researchers. So, when Doctor Kitsuregawa grew old and saw the end of his life approaching, he decided to transfer his consciousness into someone else—is that it? If that’s what was meant by a successful experiment, there are still some unresolved questions. For instance, who exactly is this Hotsure-chan, sitting in front of me right now? I’d surmised from her age that she was his granddaughter, but no matter how much of a mad scientist Doctor Kitsuregawa might have been, would he really use his own granddaughter as an experimental subject? …He probably would. After all, he even used his own consciousness in his research. No, that’s not the issue; he wasn’t the kind of person who could build honest family relations.h.i.+ps in the first place—that’s my prejudiced opinion. What Hotsure-chan said earlier about never having a mom or dad concerned me. Surely he didn’t kidnap an orphan to use as his vessel, right? That’s a downright nauseating hypothesis, but unfortunately that sort of thing is not unheard of in this world of ours. Might even say it’s par for the course—there’s a similar story to my own life. Recognizing that as “par for the course” is a whole different problem, though. So, I decided to get things cleared up—I’m grateful for all the surprises you prepared for me, s.h.i.+megiwa-kun, but I think it’s about time the magician revealed his secrets. I might look like an adult to you, but I’m not that mature. If I get p.i.s.sed off, I wouldn’t hesitate to go on a rampage with no thought for the consequences.

“H-hold on, please, don’t destroy our house like that government building… I’m going to explain everything, in order.”

s.h.i.+megiwa replied hastily—I found it a bit strange that he was more worried about the house than himself. However, as he spoke, I found myself thinking the opposite of what I said—maybe I have matured. Before, I might have smashed this table to pieces without even providing a warning.

“You were right… well, the rumors were right. Doctor Kitsuregawa had no family. He might’ve had some a while ago, but when I met him, at least, he didn’t have any family… certainly no grandchildren.”

Hmph. He’s not so different from me in that regard. Well, Doctor Kitsuregawa and I actually have a lot in common even beyond that (as much as I hate to admit it). We don’t belong to any society or to any organization; we live aloof from the world, without benefactors—did I sympathize with him on those counts, or did I hate him for them…? Let’s put that aside.

“It’s not as if Doctor Kitsuregawa was a lonely old man, of course. There’s a difference between being isolated and being above the rest.”

Being isolated and being above the rest are the same thing.

“……”

Oh, I don’t mean to be a wet blanket. Keep going. Use whatever phrasing you like. This’ll probably come in handy when I write Doctor Kitsuregawa’s biography.

“You’re gonna write his biography? You, Jun Aikawa?”

Of course not. Stop flaring up every time I crack a joke. So, s.h.i.+megiwa-kun, if Doctor Kitsuregawa had no family at all—excuse me, if he was above having a family—then who’s this little girl? Where’d she hatch from?

“'Hatch’, huh… Odd way to put it.”

You’re really particular about phrasing, aren’t you. Is language your favorite subject at school?

“I don’t go to school. What I meant by ‘odd’ was that it was oddly accurate. I thought you might’ve read my mind again; it startled me.”

Huh?

“Hotsure-sama did indeed 'hatch'—from the inside of a flask.”

…From the inside of a flask. I shouldn’t really be commended for being able to understand the situation based on those words—I mean, it’s Doctor Kitsuregawa who ought to be commended here. Although, no matter how commendable he might be, it’s hard to say whether he ought to be commended or not in this case; you’ve got to think about ethics. Even I couldn’t avoid bringing that up.

“Jun Aikawa. Do you know what a h.o.m.onculus is?”

I didn’t answer right away, but yeah, I knew. The idea of homunculi is from alchemy; they’re synthetic people, or rather, artificial life—essentially, life created by humans. It’s one of the big themes of alchemy, alongside immortality and the production of gold. Of course, we’re not talking about the middle ages here, and in this modern age of science, alchemy is no longer an academic discipline, it’s a subject for entertainment.

“Not necessarily. They say that at the forefront of modern science, it’s become possible to make gold, right? So it shouldn’t be all that astonis.h.i.+ng if immortality or h.o.m.onculi became reality either.”

I guess it shouldn’t be surprising… But, s.h.i.+megiwa-kun. It’s definitely surprising to hear you talk as if Doctor Kitsuregawa was an alchemist, not a scientist, or even a chemist. As if he was an entertainer—it’s hilarious. Like he was the last surviving alchemist in the modern age… This isn’t a sci-fi novel, you know. As if—I looked at Hotsure-chan—as if he really built a h.o.m.onculus.

“Whatever you believe is up to you. But the truth does not waver—I am an artificial life form that Grandpa created, and I inherited Grandpa’s intelligence and memories; I am the second generation Doctor Kitsuregawa. The 'Closet’ s.p.a.cesuit that you wore was one of my inventions.”

Hearing her call that the unwavering truth wasn’t just surprising, it sent a chill down my spine. After all, I’d flown out into a vacuum and run wild in a s.p.a.cesuit designed by a five-year-old. …Speaking of which, she looked five years old to me, but if she’s really a h.o.m.onculus, then I can’t judge that based on her appearance. She’s no “designer baby”, but maybe her age could have been set to whatever he wanted… Well, I’m sure it wasn’t the old man’s preference to have a little girl take over as him. That kind of perversion would be a great deal more serious than a lolita complex.

“What’s that? You’re curious about my age? I was created five years ago, and I took Grandpa—Doctor Motsure Kitsuregawa—into my head one year ago.”

So she was exactly as old as I thought. And if she took over as Doctor Kitsuregawa one year ago, that means that just about all of Doctor Kitsuregawa’s recent achievements, including the Closet s.p.a.cesuit, were made by this girl’s tiny hands… From what I’d heard, all sorts of Doctor Kitsuregawa’s creations had been scandalizing society, not just the s.p.a.cesuit… So all of those things were the work of a five-year-old girl? That’d send a s.h.i.+ver through all my guts, not just my spine. I know the new generation is supposed to be smart, but this is a little too much.

“Doctor Kitsuregawa made a h.o.m.onculus, and imparted to it his knowledge and memories; it’s one manifestation of immortality, in a way… He really was a genius.”

s.h.i.+megiwa spoke as if boasting—I wonder if he idolized Doctor Kitsuregawa. I wasn’t a.n.a.lyzing him using mind-reading since he seemed averse to it, but his att.i.tude was rather mysterious to me. Even bearing his arm mind, it’s understandable for a kid to admire an outlaw researcher who’s deviated from society, but the idea of Doctor Kitsuregawa turning into a little girl. …Well, it seemed as though s.h.i.+megiwa thought of “Doctor Kitsuregawa” and “Hotsure-sama” as different ent.i.ties. And although Hotsure-chan’s way of speaking was much too intellectual for her age, it was very different from how I remember Doctor Kitsuregawa—it would be hard to call her affable, but she didn’t sound like a crotchety old misanthrope. I don’t suppose a new body would’ve made the man have a change of heart, would it…

“What is it, Jun Aikawa? Do you still have questions?” Hotsure-chan said. “Though, to be frank, my ident.i.ty has very little to do with this commission.”

She was making me out to be an idiot who was slow on the uptake, and I can’t say that made me very happy, but from Hotsure-chan's—Doctor Kitsuregawa's—point of view, it might be true. After all, her explanations were bordering on cryptic to me. If I weren’t concentrating, it’d be liable to go through one ear and out the other, but to rephrase something she said, it was almost like she was saying that the creation of a h.o.m.onculus and the transfer of memory and knowledge weren’t  all that important to Doctor Kitsuregawa—even though either of those would be a history-defining accomplishment possibly even more unprecedented than the discovery of aliens. But setting that aside, I’m not ready to move on to the details of the commission just yet. I’m not satisfied. I’m a pretty curious girl, you know. And I’m not good-natured enough to readily believe a five-year-old kid when she says something like “I’m a h.o.m.onculus and the second generation Doctor Kitsuregawa.”

“I see. You’re wiser than I thought, humanity’s strongest. I’d thought that this might not interest you, since strength and conceit have some things in common.”

What? Are you making fun of me?

“No, I am praising you effusively… and it would be inconvenient to me if this were not the case.”

Inconvenient? Why would it be inconvenient to you if I was an idiot? Well, if I asked her that now, then we’d have to start getting into the details of the job, so I guess I’ll ask later. I haven’t decided whether to take the job or not, after all. Jun Aikawa doesn’t have time to play along with a child’s games (despite having had nothing to do just a little while ago).

“I said that what I inherited from Grandpa were memories and knowledge, did I not? In other words, I have not inherited his disposition or his personality—so the crotchety old man you were imagining… or rather, as he was known to the world, is not part of what I inherited.”

I am myself, nothing more or less, she said, not Doctor Motsure Kitsuregawa, but Hotsure Kitsuregawa. While I couldn’t call her explanation easy to understand (after all, there’s no precedent here), maybe this means that the transfer didn’t go as far as the personality transference practiced by the Niounomiya Circus. The data was transferred, but the operating system changed… that’s a problematic example, of course.

“……If you still do not understand, feel free to think of me as Doctor Kitsuregawa’s apprentice—a beloved pupil who has been taught his secrets and taken over his research. That should be easier to accept than him transplanting his brain tissue into his granddaughter.”

You’re right, but if that’s not the truth, then of course I can’t accept it. And it’s hard to tell which is more inhumane, using your granddaughter in an experiment or creating artificial life to do it… Hotsure-chan.

“What?”

Well, I get that you’re similar to Doctor Kitsuregawa but still a different person; your reasoning is that simply receiving memories and knowledge doesn’t make you the same person, right?

“Yes. That is what I said.”

But doesn’t that mean Doctor Kitsuregawa is dead, ultimately? As far as I know, he had the skill to “transmit” a human’s personality, in lots of ways… Why did Doctor Kitsuregawa transfer his memories and knowledge to you but not his personality? You say you’re his successor.

“Grandpa said that his personality had started getting in the way. It had grown old, and it was time to replace it.”

That’s truly—how to put it… a philosophy that views personality as nothing more than a physical object. Well, for argument’s sake, I can understand how people might come to think of others in that way; those who don’t accept the personality rights of other people are present everywhere, in every time period. But this is his own personality we’re talking about. Would anyone really think that the personality that had accompanied them for nearly a hundred years had “grown old and needed replacing”? Is it even possible? At the very least, I couldn’t do it.

“What’s wrong, Jun Aikawa? You’re smiling.”

I’m at a loss for words. Doctor Kitsuregawa certainly lives up to his reputation as a man you’d never want to get involved with, even if you were just refusing to get involved—him and his delightfully nasty insanity. He turned a h.o.m.onculus into his successor the same way you might transfer contact data between phones.

“Grandpa died soon after he pa.s.sed all of his research findings on to me; his cause of death was old age, I suppose… But inside me, he still lives. He will live on forever inside my head.”

It was almost like she were saying “He will always live on in my heart,” but this isn’t that kind of happy tale. If an ordinary person were his successor, their nervous system would get fried, but as you’d expect from a h.o.m.onculus raised from birth—no, from nothing—by Doctor Kitsuregawa, she showed no signs of self-doubt or hesitation. This is probably a pointless question, but do you have any evidence that what you’re saying is true? If you could just show me some evidence that you’re a h.o.m.onculus, Hotsure-chan, I’d really appreciate it.

“Do you think Grandpa would leave behind any evidence?”

She made it sound like the perfect crime. Well, this isn’t the middle ages; if you checked it against modern-day laws, you’d probably find that almost all of Doctor Kitsuregawa’s research was criminal.

“It’s up to you whether or not to believe us, Jun Aikawa. Either way, if this is too far-fetched for you to accept, then you have no chance of being able to fulfill our request.”

Why’s the one asking me for something being all high-and-mighty? A little girl shouldn’t be this stuck-up. She’s reminding me of myself—makes me sick. But regardless of her age, telling me “You have no chance of being able to fulfill our request” is too much, even as a provocation. Okay, Hotsure Kitsuregawa. And Matsuri s.h.i.+megiwa. I’ll believe your silly story. I feel a little bewildered, but I’ll write this off as having been tricked, and I’ll go along with it.

“You’ll end up regretting this.”

I just might, this time.