Chapter 419

But before that.

There was something I needed to check.

I took a deep breath and opened the Change Probability window.

Already 73%. So much for 777 days. It hadn’t even been a year, and I had already passed 70%. There really wasn’t much time left before I reached the end.

“…….”

Even though the possibility of escaping the future where I died had climbed to nearly 73%, for some reason, I felt a strange mix of relief and regret. Thinking about all the possibilities that could follow left an empty feeling in one corner of my heart.

Still, I couldn’t just let this innocent body die. Reaching 100% as early as possible was the obvious thing to do, and afterward, I had to hope that everything would return to the way it was…

‘…It only makes sense. Now, then.’

The question was, ‘How much will the Change Probability drop by the time I finish this test and come out?’ Finding that out was my goal for today.

This session was the perfect opportunity to figure out two things. First, what sort of plan the ‘information’ Adrian Askanien had been keeping tucked away in the Supreme Council actually referred to. Second, what kind of thoughts Adrian harbored toward me, and what his true purpose had been in returning to Germany.

As Clausewitz argued, the probabilities of the real world constrain the unlimited nature of war. Yesterday’s sparring, however, had a much narrower range of possibilities than information warfare within a designated area—or most battles that took the form of information warfare combined with combat. So if the goal was to gauge each individual’s higher-level abilities, a strategy game was more suitable than a sparring match. Adrian Askanien may have intended exactly that.

At the same time, Adrian Askanien wasn’t some single-celled fool who would waste his time indulging his own interests when the Supreme Council meetings were already being convened again and again. So it seemed unlikely that the first point—the ‘information’—had nothing to do with this.

If the Change Probability fell to an irrecoverable level, I would consider this timeline a lost cause and continue living through it anyway. But, as I had thought earlier when wrapping up my conversation with Narke, I would use it to test some of the riskier hypotheses I had come up with—preferably several of them.

Thud―

I slowly stepped forward through the snow. The sound of snow collapsing and crunching beneath my feet was surprisingly clear. What was I supposed to find out here, and what was I supposed to do?

I had wondered if there might be any victims around, but I could hear none of the distinctive vibrations or voices of those contaminated by vitriol. My eyes remained fixed on my surroundings. It seemed to be around noon, yet the shops still weren’t open. I couldn’t tell whether they had closed for good or simply hadn’t opened yet.

First, the location. This was Pankow, north of Berlin, extending toward northern Brandenburg. More specifically, this was an area where people with little economic means were concentrated.

Next… that red advertising board over there on the sidewalk. As I’d thought before, this world possessed some aspects of early 20th century culture and even technology beyond the 21st century thanks to the qualitative and quantitative advances brought about by magic. But this particular sight would have been common even in the 19th century of the world I came from. There were rotating advertising boards along the streets where people could post flyers. Rather than letting people plaster them all over the walls and ruin the city’s appearance, the boards gave them a designated place to put them all together.

I walked over to it.

The board itself was old and worn, but the advertisements on it were relatively new. Judging by the number stamped on the approval seal, the ‘Urgent Tutor Wanted’ notice had been posted yesterday.

Next to it was a job advertisement from a twenty-something Old Human teacher in the neighborhood who was looking for work during the free hours they had during the school term. There was also a discount advertisement from the large grocery store in the arcade ahead, posted a month ago; the first page of a department store catalog from one of Berlin’s busy districts; a job advertisement from an Old Human cleaner; a hardware store’s home-repair advertisement; a bookstore’s advertisement for buying and selling used books; a bakery advertisement…

They were all ordinary advertisements from the shops and businesses in this neighborhood.

I’d finished looking at one side. There were five more sides to check. I gave the cylinder a quick spin and started reading the next set of advertisements.

‘Hmm. There sure are a lot. Bartender wanted. Advertisement for a billiards club. Lottery shop. Another hardware store…’

After committing all the advertisements to memory, I headed toward the newspaper stand outside the arcade and picked up today’s Berlin Daily.

“Excuse me. I just need to check something.”

“Oh, if you want to read it, you’ll have to buy—”

“I am conducting an investigation on behalf of the Association. I would appreciate your cooperation.”

The elderly Old Human owner had little to say and simply nodded. I looked away as I adjusted my grip on the newspaper.

December 20, 1898. A fictional newspaper.

[German Empire on the Verge of Completely Eradicating Pleroma… Will the ‘War Against Pleroma’ End Before Christmas?]

They had put a wishful statement right in the headline. Another article caught my eye, titled [City Lockdown Order to Be Lifted Soon?] There was a curfew from 7 p.m. to 5 a.m. As part of the anti-Pleroma measures, it seemed that in this fictional December of 1898, restrictions had been placed on when people could travel.

I glanced at the crossword puzzle section on the back before going through the personal ads. The tutor listings I had seen on the billboard earlier were here as well. I read through the countless advertisements.

[[Nationwide] URGENTLY SEEKING TUTOR: Old Human boy, age 8 / well-behaved / room and board provided / three interviews / family name will be disclosed when an appointment is scheduled.]

[[Nationwide] [Pankow] TUTOR SEEKING WORK: Violett Brot, Old Human, 27, graduated from the Philosophy Department of the University of Göttingen. I will teach with sincerity and dedication.]

[À point, à cœur, amuse-bouche, assiette, lyophilisé—basic knowledge for anyone preparing for a chef certification exam! I will teach you everything from A to Z and help you pass in a short period of time. 100% pass rate among last year’s students.]

[TYPEWRITER WANTED FOR LOAN: Just five hours this weekend. Generous compensation. Telegraph me at the address below.]

[I don’t have anything particular to say, but I wanted to try placing a personal ad. I walk my pet owl in a park in Mitte every evening. Anyone want to come see it? Though it costs #### per character.]

[Anyone interested in fishing at the University of Berlin? Bring cash. No checks. Cash only, and coins are even better. Not responsible for torn banknotes.]

[Meet me at the Orange Lily Garden, Z.]

[Old Human wanted for a game of chess in front of City Hall at 3 p.m. Prize: 800 Pel.]

There were all sorts of odd little notices like these, but personal ads were also a common place to hide codes. If you didn’t think of a code as something overly elaborate, quite a lot of things would start to stand out. Take the ‘Orange Lily Garden,’ for instance. What kind of idle fool would come up with a name like that, and where would a place like that even be? The name was so unnatural that it left an unpleasant feeling in the back of my mind. In cases like this, it obviously had nothing to do with actual orange flowers. It was simply a nickname they had given to a particular location. And what was with the guy asking people to go fishing at the University of Berlin? It went without saying that I had to examine every piece of information carefully, but I also shouldn’t overlook the possibility that some of it was simply nonsense.

Beside it was the weather forecast. It was supposed to snow tomorrow, and the day after that as well. I flipped forward and found an article at the bottom of the front page: [Heavy Snowfall Expected Across Berlin]. I closed the newspaper and asked the newsstand owner.

“Do you have yesterday’s paper?”

“Here.”

“What about a week ago?”

“If you mean the Berlin Daily, I don’t have any. Most of the old stock is sent back to the main office.”

“Then if you have even one older issue left, could you give me the oldest one?”

“Hmm… Three days ago. Here you go.”

He rummaged around beneath the counter before pulling out a newspaper and handing it over. I thanked him and quickly skimmed through the articles. The first thing that caught my eye was [Unprecedented Snowfall Expected]. They had run another article predicting today’s heavy snowfall, separate from the weather forecast itself. The forecast on the back page said the same thing. Apparently, they had been expecting today’s heavy snow for at least three days.

The personal ads were updated every day just like the rest of the paper, so there weren’t many repeated notices. Still, the person asking people to go fishing at the University of Berlin and the two tutor ads had all been posted three days ago as well.

I roughly worked through the crossword puzzle before speaking to the owner, who was still frozen in place.

“By the way, why are there so few people on the streets?”

“Well… because nothing can move with the city under lockdown. The food coming in from outside the capital has completely run out.”

“I see.”

I could feel him looking at me like I was some kind of lunatic—more in disbelief than anything, which was understandable. The government had imposed the lockdown, and I probably looked like one of its lackeys right now—but I gave a meaningless little exclamation and continued.

“If that’s the case, then shops selling goods that don’t require inter-regional travel, or goods with a lower turnover rate than food, should still be open. Things like… stationery stores or hardware shops.”

“I suppose… that’s true. But they won’t be able to stay open for long. Most food-related businesses have already closed, and people can get by on the food the government distributes, so there aren’t many customers out on the streets either.”

“How many people usually come here in a day?”

The owner opened his ledger and cash register, made a rough estimate, then answered.

“Today, even though it’s past noon, we’ve had about twenty people. There’s another newsstand down that alley, too, but normally we get well over a hundred people because of the morning papers. But…”

The owner hesitated for quite a while. His eyes darted around before he cautiously asked, “What brings you here…? Has something happened around here?”

“No. Thank you for your cooperation.”

I answered while keeping an eye on the people passing by in the corner of my vision.

After that, I entered a building with a small secondhand clothing shop near the mouth of the alley. Given the attention I might attract, I couldn’t go through the shop’s front entrance, so I pounded on the locked side door for the owner in the building’s hallway. The owner flung the door open while smoking a cigarette, an annoyed look on his face. But the moment he saw me, his expression froze.

“Th-The Imperial…? What brings you here…?”

“I’d like to buy some clothes.”

I squeezed my way through the narrow opening and continued.

“Could you pick out something reasonably neat? Anything will do.”

“Ah, anything….”

He trailed off, looking like he couldn’t understand why I had come all the way here, then brought me a brown jacket. I set it aside and spoke again.

“This is good. Yes, this is fine… Could I get a shirt and trousers as well? And, if possible, a belt, a hat, and shoes. Oh, and a bag, too.”

“…?”

The owner looked increasingly baffled, but he brought out everything I asked for. I roughly changed clothes and folded my uniform into the bag.

“Thank you for your cooperation. The Association will cover the cost. You must keep everything that happened here completely confidential. Understood?”

“Y-Yes, y-yes.”

He didn’t exactly seem convinced when I told him the Association would take care of the payment somehow, but perhaps because he had recognized me as a New Human, he wasn’t particularly suspicious either. If the person wearing the uniform had been an Old Human, he probably would have been more wary. For now, he simply seemed to want me out of there as quickly as possible.

I slipped back into the building through the side door and, as soon as I stepped into the hallway, hunched forward and pushed my head down. Walking around at a height of around 185 centimeters was risky. At least I was wearing loafers now, so I’d lost the extra height from the boots, but I was still considerably taller than the average Old Human man in Germany at this time. I needed to make myself a little shorter, at least.

Now, then. There had to be a reason I had been dropped in this particular area first. What could it be?

I went outside and brushed the snow that was still piling up off my shoulders, then casually ran my hand over the tops of mailboxes and advertising boards that were low enough for me to reach. Snow came tumbling down in clumps. I used to enjoy doing this as a child, and apparently it was still fun now that I was grown. I dragged my hand along the tops of low walls as I walked, too.

For the next twenty minutes, I wandered around the neighborhood, gathering up and knocking down the snow piled on mailboxes, walls, and advertising boards.

Thud—

Once again, without thinking much of it, I struck the thick layer of snow covering a mailbox with my gloved hand and pushed it off. Something fell into the snow below. When I picked it up, I found a square-shaped object wrapped rather sloppily in wax paper and tied with paper string.

When I untied the loosely knotted ribbon, I recognized what the square object was and let out a hollow laugh. It was soap the color of yōkan—something someone had apparently mistaken for food and taken a bite out of. Or maybe it was wax.

“…….”

Just imagining foam coming out of their mouth made my stomach churn. Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate, I scraped around the area with my foot, but there were no remains of whatever soap someone had spat out. Anyway, I slipped the free soap into my pocket and went right back to fooling around with the snow in the neighborhood.

After making my way around the area, I eventually returned to a spot about ten minutes away from where I had first stood. There, I spotted a bakery with a purple sign hanging above it. As it happened, I was getting hungry.

Thirty minutes earlier.

“What on earth are we supposed to do?”

Elias rested a hand on Leonard’s shoulder and muttered gruffly. Leonard’s eyes quickly swept over their surroundings. Berlin, Pankow District. A residential area populated by Old Humans with low incomes. There was no sign of any victims. No enemies were coming at them, either. Since they hadn’t been told what they were supposed to do, that was something they would have to figure out themselves.

Elias clung to Leonard’s neck and said, “Leoooo.”

“What.”

“Seeing as you and I got paired together, I guess the team assignments aren’t random.”

“Is that so.”

“At least we’re pretty close among the 101st Unit, aren’t we? Let’s put in some effort today and get even closer.”

“…….”

Leonard didn’t answer. They all knew the Mimic cameras were watching the two of them from every direction, so Elias neither felt disappointed nor hurt by Leonard’s lukewarm response. After all, Elias himself had been choosing his words with both his friend and the cameras in mind. His trust in the friend he had known since childhood was firm enough that Leonard’s behavior no longer raised any questions in Elias’s mind. Like Leonard, Elias looked around before speaking.

“So, then.”

“…….”

“You know what we’re supposed to do, right?”

Elias patted Leonard on the shoulder and said it playfully. Leonard simply left Elias behind and started walking. At the newspaper stand outside the arcade, he pulled out his Association credentials and said, “Excuse me, sir. Would you mind cooperating with our investigation for a moment?”

“Pardon? Ah, yes…”

The newspaper shop owner took a step back, his voice flustered and his brow furrowed. He was clearly giving Leonard permission to look around as he pleased, but it was equally clear that he wasn’t comfortable with it.

Leonard unfolded the newspaper, cast a soundproofing spell, and said to Elias, “It’s winter this year. Looks like they’ve nearly wiped out Pleroma.”

“This is way too unrealistic—mmph.”

Leonard slapped a hand over Elias’s mouth and rubbed his chin.

“If they’ve supposedly wiped out Pleroma, but started the training here…”

What else could it mean? There wasn’t anyone at Headquarters who wouldn’t understand the implication. Elias voiced Leonard’s thoughts for him.

“It means there are still remnants left. Anyway, Leo, go get yourself a job as a tutor.”

“…….”

“Or do you want to get a cooking certificate? Huh, I could probably pass that. ‘Perfectly cooked,’ ‘the center of the ingredient,’ and what was it—amuse-bouche is just… amuse-bouche, isn’t it? Oh, and there’s someone here looking for a typewriter, too.”

Leonard glanced at the advertisement Elias had been reading. After amuse-bouche came assiette, meaning plated portions for one, and lyophilisé, meaning freeze-dried.

Leonard skimmed the advertisements below it and muttered, “Most of this is pointless. Anything that looks important?”

“Hmm… I’m hungry.”

When Elias gave an irrelevant answer, Leonard let out a deep sigh and lowered his voice.

“Can’t you tell from the article about the lockdown? Most places are closed. Food-related businesses especially. And what’s the point of eating in a Mimesis anyway?”

Leonard immediately dispelled the soundproofing spell and addressed the still-frozen newspaper vendor, looking between the two of them.

“Thank you for your cooperation. The cost of the newspaper will be paid through the Association shortly.”

Leonard folded the newspaper in half and started walking away. Elias quickly followed.

“Where’re we going~?”

“Exploring for now.”

Leonard gave a brief answer. Elias already knew they had to investigate; he was only asking to see what Leonard would do. It was safe to say there wasn’t a single scenario in which Elias would get in the way of whatever Leonard decided to pursue. For the time being, Elias had simply left everything to Leonard and taken a step back to watch.

After they had walked for about ten minutes, Elias whistled softly as he went and asked, “It’s nice and refreshing, sure~ but are we really gonna find anything just walking around like this?”

“About that tutor thing.”

Leonard suddenly brought it up, and Elias fell silent and looked at him. Leonard kept his eyes ahead as he muttered, “Why did Violett Brot put up an advertisement instead of applying to one of the nearby families looking for a tutor? The economy contracts when a lockdown like this is imposed. Naturally, employment contracts with it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Could it be that she already contacted the family nearby that urgently needs someone to teach an eight-year-old Old Human, but was turned down… and that’s why she put up her own advertisement? Or were she hoping to get offers from more than one or two families? But jobs that pay this well don’t come up as often as you might think.”

“Didn’t seem like it paid that much, though.”

At Elias’s comment, Leonard closed his eyes and sighed.

“By commoner standards, being able to cover both room and board is a huge perk, Elias.”

“I know that. Well, I can see why you’re so interested in that ad. There’s another one looking for a tutor on that bulletin board over there, too.”

Leonard turned his gaze toward where Elias was pointing. Elias added in a serious voice, “If there are this many of them showing up, that means there’s something shady going on. And that makes them pretty useful information. Though, I guess the answer might not be in the newspaper after all~”

“…….”

Leonard stared silently in that direction before turning his gaze forward again.

“How about we send a telegram to Ms. Broth, Elias.”

“You mean lie and say we’re looking for a tutor?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Ooh~”

Elias burst into laughter at a remark so uncharacteristic of his friend. Even so, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off. This wasn’t the end of it. With four hours allotted for the test, luring Violett Broth out alone probably wouldn’t be enough to uncover the information the test was asking for. The sheer number of tutor advertisements was certainly suspicious, but there simply wasn’t enough contextual information to even guess that Violett Broth was connected to Pleroma.

And Leonard had clearly come to the same conclusion.

Elias followed Leonard in silence. About ten minutes later, he frowned when he noticed a shop nearby.

“Hey, didn’t you say a lot of shops were closed because of the lockdown?”

“Food-related shops. And not all of them are closed.”

Leonard answered curtly, but Elias wasn’t convinced. He had already seen plenty of restaurants that were closed and bookstores that were still open on the way here, so he knew perfectly well which kinds of shops were operating and which weren’t. He also knew that even businesses affected by the lockdown weren’t necessarily all forced to close. Even so, Elias grabbed Leonard firmly by the shoulder and stopped him, turning him around.

Elias pointed toward a bakery with a purple sign. A baker was moving around behind the counter, and the lights were on, brightly illuminating the interior. There was even bread displayed on the shelves—bread that should have been sold out long ago.

“That bakery’s open.”

At the same time, Julia and Ulrike were looking through the newspaper. After skimming through all the articles, they focused on the personal ads just as Lukas, Elias, and Leonard had.

While Julia remained silent, Ulrike kept talking without pause.

“What’s this thing about fishing at the University of Berlin? Cash? This one’s suspicious.”

“…….”

“Should we look for the Orange Lily Garden? Julia, what do you think?!”

“That would be difficult. We don’t even know for sure whether the garden is actually a place, and there are no additional clues to tell us what it means.”

“Hmmmm. Yeah, that’s true….”

As Ulrike hummed to himself, Julia silently committed the newspaper’s contents to memory before speaking.

“Luise. Do you remember what Lukas said? About codes.”

“Oh, what was it again? ‘The basic principle of a code is to leave information that looks completely meaningless at a glance.’”

“You remember it well.”

Julia took the newspaper from Ulrike and folded it in half with a smile.

“Something that obviously looks like a code isn’t the answer, Luise. That’s what I think, anyway. What about you?”

“…I guess that makes sense~? Haha.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

Julia gave a small smile and pointed to the advertisements at the top of the folded page.

“I’m more interested in these two ads looking for tutors… and some of the other ordinary advertisements. The cooking lessons, the typewriter rental, things like that. What do you think?”

“…Hmm. Three interviews is pretty strict. So? Are you going to contact them?”

“There seems to be a reason we were given four hours.”

Despite the deep sense of unease he felt, Julia opened his eyes and continued with a smile.

“So I think we should contact them. What do you say? Want to send a telegram?”

‘I wonder what the others are doing right now.’

With that thought, I made my way toward the bakery. I was already hungry, and ‘fortunately,’ this place happened to be open.

Jingle—

As expected, there wasn’t much bread on display. I had expected the warm, buttery smell of freshly baked bread, but unfortunately, the shop didn’t smell of anything at all. It seemed they hadn’t baked anything in the past few hours.

I glanced at the hard bread on the display—at a glance, they looked more like bricks—and headed straight for the counter. The shopkeeper merely turned his head to look behind him and spoke without much interest.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“Is Ms. Violett Brot here?”

The moment I asked, I felt the air freeze. The shopkeeper abruptly stopped what he was doing, his expression changing completely. I pulled out the bar of soap wrapped in wax paper and tied with paper string that I had tucked into my pocket.

“I’m here to deliver some lyophilized bread to Ms. Violett Brot.”