"Alright."
From Patchouli, Zeroy learned about skill leveling, reacting with some helplessness. She hadn't expected her skills to be picky eaters. And finding stronger pests—that wasn't up to her.
"Oh, one more thing. I still have a world unfinished, so tomorrow I can't use my privilege to start the next mission."
She meant: [Active mission cooldown reduced from five days to three].
The World Beacon had a one-day cooldown. [No matter how long she stayed in a world, only one day passed in the Main God Space.] So after going to Black Bullet, a day passed, and the beacon needed a day to reset. She could only return to Highschool of the Dead on the third day.
"Killing pests, saving people?" Patchouli guessed.
"Right."
"I knew it." Patchouli sighed. "It doesn't matter. Without your privilege, I couldn't join early anyway. However, you won't let strength become your only goal, right?" Strength was a tool, not an end. Revenge or protection—goals always lay beyond power.
"That was healthy. So if Zeroy delayed power for other reasons, Patchouli didn't mind. If power was all she wanted, Patchouli would worry. That said, neglecting power entirely would be as foolish as letting fear of choking stop you eating.
Zeroy nodded firmly. "Of course not."
"Good. Then tell me about that world."
···
The next day, Zeroy brought Patchouli back to the Highschool of the Dead world. The beacon's time ratio was 1:1, capped at 30 days. However long she stayed outside, only thirty days max passed here. And thirty days had passed. The city was more ruined, fewer survivors remained, zombies fewer but stronger.
"Humans… truly a strange race…" Patchouli murmured, seeing the ruins. In Black Bullet, humans made the Gastrea Virus and nearly went extinct. Later, others created Gastrea resistant to Varanium, as if humanity couldn't rest until it was dead.
Here, humans had created the zombie virus, bringing the world to its knees. She thought maybe Zeroy's slaughter wasn't so bad. Such rotten worlds needed a hard hand. The thought flashed, then she suppressed it.
"It's not a race problem. With such numbers, with intelligence, without unity or traits, a huge base will inevitably produce monsters," Zeroy said.
"True." Patchouli agreed. She knew it wasn't a racial flaw. Any race, with those conditions, would likely collapse.
"Come on. Let's check on people I know here. I hope they're safe."
"You lead."
···
An autumn swing swayed, light dappling through trees onto Alice Maresato's pink hair. Her small hand held a brush, painting rough yet heartfelt lines.
Saeko Busujima carried a tray of strawberries, walking over fallen leaves, her purple hair swaying in the breeze. "Alice, here you are." She smiled warmly. The strawberries glistened with fresh water in the sun. "They're ripe—want some?"
"Saeko…" Alice lifted her head. But her small face bore no childish joy. Her blue eyes were clouded, her face heavy with sorrow far beyond her years. The swing stilled.
"What's wrong?" Saeko set the tray down gently, kneeling by her. She glanced at Alice's drawing. The paper depicted a golden-haired girl on a mountain of corpses, blade dripping blood, pointing at zombies, while her other hand shielded a child. Behind them, a bloody earth and a sun breaking through clouds. The moment Alice had been saved.
'Zeroy…'
Saeko's eyes dimmed. She stroked Alice's hair softly.
"Saeko… will Sister Zeroy… really come back?" Alice's voice was faint, her face full of hope and loss.
"She will," Saeko said gently, firm despite doubt. "Sister Zeroy would never lie to you."
Reason said otherwise. She remembered the flicker of worry in Zeroy's eyes when she left. Perhaps even Zeroy wasn't sure she'd return—or when she did, how much time would have passed. But feeling made her believe.
She believed in Zeroy's promise: [I'll return as soon as I can].
And she believed the girl who tore open the apocalypse alone—nothing could stop her.
...
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