Eternally Regressing in Another World

The scene before my eyes made me hold my breath.

"...What the hell is this place!?"

What waited beyond the stairs was pure, undeniable madness. Emaciated people, gaunt like zombies, picked through garbage, while blatantly stolen goods were sold openly without shame. Wealthy men with imposing bodyguards browsed women like merchandise, and drugs that were obviously dangerous were sold right in the middle of the street. It looked exactly like some chaotic slum. An entire town seemingly functioning within an underground cavity, completely detached from reality.

"Thought this city already had bad security, but a place like this actually exists?"

Looking around, further back, a bulky man was being beaten mercilessly by a mob. Yet no one reacted, no one even glanced his way. Passersby walked on without a shred of interest, like crows circling trash. Scenes like that were probably just normal here. This was, in a sense, the nation’s dark underbelly.

"What am I even supposed to do in a place like this... ah, right, the map."

Remembering, I unfolded the map the bartender had given me.

"Go to the marked location, wasn’t it? Anyway, standing around nervous here is dangerous. Let’s just get moving."

A meaningfully placed red circle marked on the map. Trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible, I started walking toward it.

Walking a short distance, lively voices echoed from somewhere. The voices seemed to be coming from exactly the direction I was heading. As I continued, an oddly colorful building, out of place in this town, came into view. Looking up at what resembled a circus tent, bold letters at the top read "Genryu Society."

"According to the map, this is the spot, but..."

Several large, armed men stood watch around the building. Like a shield keeping the socially powerless from entering. I really didn’t want to get tangled up in whatever this was. But apparently, walking past unnoticed wasn’t an option.

"You there, show your face."

A sword-carrying man, looking like security, called out to stop me. He compared my face against something on a piece of paper. Was there a portrait sketched on that thing?

"Alright, follow me."

The man opened a door. I stepped forward, matching his pace. Led along, doing exactly as told, I got no explanation whatsoever about what kind of place this was. Walking down a dim corridor for a while, a sign came into view up ahead, with an arrow reading "Performance In Progress."

"Um, what’s this performance thing? What exactly goes on here?"

The man gave no answer. Just kept walking silently, slightly ahead of me. Just in case, I put my hand to the gun tucked in my coat. Only one round left. Whatever came, whatever happened, this single shot was all I had. The silent walk, no conversation at all, was oddly useful for steadying my nerves. Eventually we reached the end of the dim corridor. A single wooden door stood there. The man stared at me silently.

"...Guess that means go in?"

The man remained silent, standing there.

"Ah, damn it, fine! I’ll go in, damn it!"

Nothing good was waiting beyond this. Knowing that, and still, this door felt this unbearable to open. My hand felt heavy just gripping the doorknob. But I couldn’t afford to run. I had to save Shiran and Flaut, no matter what!

"Please be okay, Shiran, Flaut!"

Steeling myself, I threw the door open forcefully. Beyond it stretched a plain, unadorned stage. Ahead, some kind of spectacle was lit from all four sides. But what unfolded there was an unbelievably disturbed sight.

"...What the hell are they doing over there."

Madness beyond belief was playing out casually, right in front of me. Inside a massive cage, a collared elderly man chased after a young man whose hands and feet were bound. The elderly man wielded a sword, crying and apologizing as he did, while the young man crawled away, shouting. Hard to make out through the roaring crowd, but I could occasionally catch the word "Father" from the young man’s mouth. An awful thought crossed my mind.

"Hey, someone needs to stop this, right!?"

I started to run, but an arm shot out from the side and grabbed my hair.

"Ow, ow, ow! What the hell!?"

Shaking it off, I looked up to glare at whoever had grabbed me. But the moment I saw their face, the blood drained from mine instantly. Because standing there was...

"R-Ronnet..."

In some ways, someone I wanted to see even less than Nest right now. The pain from my healing wound flared right back up.

"Your turn hasn’t come yet."

"Turn? What are you talking about?"

"The show, obviously."

A show... there’s no way something this tasteless counts as entertainment.

"Those two in the cage, aren’t they father and son!?"

"Correct. Those two are former nobles bankrupted through gambling debts at the Genryu Society. Having fled without repaying, they’re forced into performances like this to earn the money back. Nothing less extreme would recoup that sum."

"...How do the two of them get released?"

"When one of them dies."

The tasteless amusements of the wealthy, I never imagined anything could go this far. Sure, people who don’t repay debts are in the wrong. But forcing blood relatives to fight for each other’s lives, that’s beyond horrific.

"Hmph, and this is one of the milder ones, at that..."

Ronnet’s mutter reached my ears clearly.

"What do you mean by that!?"

"Annoying. Take a look at this and shut up."

Ronnet pulled a sheet of paper from his coat. I took the offered paper and read through it.

*~ Performance Lineup ~*

First Performance: Guess Your Own ChildListen to the cries of several infants placed in boxes, and plunge a knife into whichever ones are not your own. For those who want to witness a mother’s face consumed by despair, don’t miss this one.

Second Performance: Let’s! Rescue GameA husband fights for the lives of his beloved family. Cut off your right arm to save your wife, your left arm to save your daughter, your right leg to save your son, your left leg to save your mother. Can he sacrifice all four limbs by himself within the time limit? His desperate face and writhing struggle are guaranteed to bring the house down.

Third Performance: Which One Do You Love More?Two parent-and-child pairs, each robbed of their beloved child, now clash head to head! Bound children are made to tear out their own fingernails in agonizing pain. Whoever finishes first is spared. Whoever finishes second is sentenced to burning at the stake in a later performance. Please enjoy the parents’ anguished cries as they hesitate against their own children’s screams.

Fourth Performance: Time to Punish the Caterpillar Son!Witness a lively, spirited brawl between a loving father and son! The bound and restricted son flees from his sword-wielding father. If the son dies within ten minutes, happy ending. If he survives ten minutes, both father and mother become dinner for the piglets. Which will the father choose? Never mind that, just kill him already, enjoy the farce.

Special Performance!What’s this, that knight’s child!?Absolutely unmissable!Details are a surprise, come see for yourself.

"Screw this!!!"

I immediately tore the paper apart and stomped on it repeatedly. Words too nauseating to stomach. Nothing but pure disgust.

"This performance runs once a month. It’s become quite the favorite pastime among the nobility..."

"Shut up!!"

I threw a punch straight at Ronnet’s expressionless face. But the instant my fist connected, an unbearable pain shot through it. Ronnet’s hard cheekbone had done more damage to me than to him.

"...Ugh."

"Hmph. Trained differently than the vermin around here. Keep this up and I’ll tear your head clean off."

"...Huh?"

Something caught in my mind at his words. ...Head, right, that’s it!

"...It was you, wasn’t it? The murderer."

"What?"

I wasn’t thinking anymore, just letting the words spill out.

"You’ve been killing people for this show, haven’t you!? Gouging out throats, nobles and children alike! Do you have any idea how many people you’ve sent through hell!?"

Ronnet didn’t try to stop my shouting, listening with a blank expression.

"Answer me! That string of murders, that was you, wasn’t it!!"

Ronnet didn’t shift his gaze at all. But he spoke quietly.

"I’ve heard of that case, but... being pinned as the culprit for something so childish is genuinely irritating."

A denial, well, the motive and alibi weren’t even clear to begin with. But I couldn’t accept it.

"You could crush and tear out a throat easily enough!"

"What would I gain from doing that?"

Ronnet didn’t even blink. Only his lips moved.

"A show is about motion. Would you have me prop up corpses and puppeteer them onstage? I don’t have the patience to listen to the nobility’s complaints. But if the existence of the Genryu Society were ever at risk of being exposed, I’d kill someone as brutally as possible, to instill fear."

His words brought something back to my mind. Flaut’s body, torn apart, mutilated. Nothing about it resembled the method used in the string of murders, not even remotely. ...Which meant, once again, Ronnet wasn’t the culprit behind that case either?

"DAAAAAAAAD!!!!"

A sudden shout pulled me back to my senses. A cry of tragedy from the stage.

"Dad, why, why did you..."

Beside the sobbing young man lay the elderly man, sword driven into his own stomach. He’d likely killed himself to protect his son. The venue was half-booing at the outcome.

"Come on, refund our money!" "Ugh, ...boring." "Should’ve just killed him! Kill the son already!" "You don’t understand entertainment at all! Burn him at the stake!"

Listening to these voices, it was hard to believe they came from human beings. An announcement came in to settle the booing crowd.

"Our deepest apologies, everyone. As compensation, we’ll be moving up the schedule for the Special Performance."

Against the buzz of the excited crowd, an unpleasant sweat broke out over me. Anything labeled "special" in a place like this could only mean something horrific.

"Now then, feast your eyes! These two are today’s final sacrifice!"

As if the stage itself were rising, a massive transparent case appeared. Its high-clarity, display-like appearance resembled an aquarium tank. ...Inside were the two of them.

"Shiran, Flaut!?"

Shouting their names, I broke into a run. I slammed my fist against the glass-like transparent wall over and over.

"Hey, you okay!? I’m getting you out of there now!"

There was no response. Both of them hung limp, wrists chained, suspended in midair inside.

"Damn it! Break! Break already!!"

Kicking, ramming my whole body, it didn’t budge an inch. My desperate struggle only served to excite the crowd further.

"This gentleman here is today’s leading man! Please wait just a bit longer while the stage is finished."

"Huh!? Hey, what are you talking about!"

No one answered my shout. Only the interior of the tank kept shifting. The bound pair kept being winched further and further upward. Then, suddenly, water began filling the base of the tank.

"Don’t tell me they’re going to drown them!?"

"Heh, you don’t get it at all, do you."

One of the seated audience members let out a laugh.

"Hey, all of you, stop treating them like a spectacle! Get out of here, all of you!!"

Overcome with rage, I swung a half-desperate punch at the audience. But my fist froze mid-air. Not because I stopped it myself. An invisible wall blocked it.

"Aghh, damn it..."

My fist, striking that solid barrier, split open, blood dripping.

"Our audience members are protected by this magic. We apologize, but please observe proper etiquette."

"Screw you! You’ve got some nerve saying that!? Just let them go! Hey!!"

Acting as if it didn’t even see me, the stage kept moving forward regardless.

"Gyew, gyew, gyew, gyew, gyew!"

A grotesque sound came from the water, now filling about half the tank. While I was arguing with the audience, the tank had filled with disgusting monsters. Something resembling a catfish thrashed around, splashing noisily.

"Now then, preparations are complete! Let’s begin with a demonstration."

At the emcee’s voice, the tank’s lid opened. A single man was brought out from backstage. Bound, crying, groaning. His mouth was gagged, making it impossible to make out his words.

"This man illegally freed an enslaved girl without authorization the other day. As a warning example, he will now be executed."

Cheers erupted in response to the announcement. Swept along by the roar, the man’s body was lifted into the air.

"Mmph!!! Mmmmphhh!!!!"

"Farewell, then!"

With an oddly cheerful execution announcement, the man’s body began falling naturally.

"GYEGYEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"

The creatures inside let out a horrific screech, swarming toward him. A beastlike scream mixed with the monsters’ cries. It was a sight too horrific to look at directly. Even squinting to blur the details, it felt like it might drive me insane too. Simply being bitten would’ve been merciful. The monsters shoved themselves into every opening on the man’s body, devouring him from within. Through his mouth, nose, ears, eyes, and rectum, tearing through flesh without hesitation, twisting bodies over thirty centimeters long as they forced their way inside. The man occasionally jolted, but there was no saving him at this point.

"They’re going to drop them into that... both of them."

"How was that? Did the impact come through clearly? Now then, gentleman in black, are you ready?"

That was probably directed at me. But I wasn’t calm enough right now to even answer.

"What do I do, what do I do, what should I do, what should I do, god, what should I do, what should I..."

Nothing came to mind. No matter how hard I thought, not a single way to save them both surfaced. My mind spiraled into instability, vision losing focus.

"Want to save them?"

At those words, I looked up sharply. Too rattled, I’d reacted without thinking. I knew this was just entertaining the scum around me. But if there was even an impossible chance to save them, I’d take it.

"Of course I want to save them, tell me what to do! I’ll walk a tightrope, jump through hoops of fire, whatever it takes! I’m bringing both Shiran and Flaut home, no matter what!"

"Excellent response! That’s exactly the spirit we love. Now, I’ll announce the game. Here’s what you’ll be doing!"

At the announcement, a round pedestal rose up from beneath my feet. On top sat a red crystal and a blue crystal, side by side.

"What is this? Some kind of magic tool?"

"Please destroy whichever one you prefer! Red is the lovely girl, Shiran. Blue is the brave boy, Flaut. Whichever child’s crystal you destroy... goes splash below!"

"Huh?"

I couldn’t produce a coherent word. Because what that explanation meant was, ...one of them has to die?

"Wait, hey! You said ’want to save them,’ didn’t you!? What was that supposed to mean!?"

"One of them will be saved! Ah, how generous of us."

I stood there, dazed, holding the two crystals. There was no way to choose. This wasn’t a choice at all, not by any definition. But the people here didn’t know the meaning of the word "wait."

"Now then, let’s disable the sleep spell here. I wonder how the two of them will react?"

"Wha!? Stop it!!"

Below them, the monsters were still devouring the man’s corpse. Was that horrific sight really about to be shown to such young children!? But there was no way these people would listen to me. Following the announcer’s instructions, the two of them awoke in the worst possible place.

"...Huh? Where... AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!"

"...Wait, did I fall asleep... hiii!?"

Both of them looked around, terrified. And upon seeing what was below, they began screaming through tears.

"I don’t want to, I don’t want to die, no, no, noooooo!!!!"

"NOOOOOO! Help, Flaut, help meeeeeee!!!!"

...Helpless. How pathetically weak am I. Even after going through a reset once, it still came to this. Why? How did it end up like this again!?

"We don’t want to keep you waiting too long, so please decide within the next ten seconds. If you don’t choose, both go splash! Alright everyone, let’s count together! Teeeeen!"

"Wait! Wait! Please, just wait, please!!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

Alongside the announcer’s voice, the vile rich audience began a childish, mocking countdown. A sound more grating than the worst off-key chorus imaginable.

"Nine!"

"Damn it, stop... stop this..."

My faint voice reached no one anymore. I was on the verge of giving up entirely. That’s when I remembered the man who’d stabbed himself to protect his son earlier. Light returned clearly to my eyes.

"...I’ve decided."

"Eight!"

"I said I’ve decided! Shut up, all of you!!"

My shout brought the vile countdown to a halt. But whispers and laughter still leaked from around the room.

"So, which will you destroy? Red? Blue? Or both?"

"I don’t want this... I don’t want either of them to die..."

"Mister! I’m fine, just save Shiran!!"

Flaut shouted, his whole body trembling with fear. But of course, there was no choosing between them.

"I’m not destroying either. I won’t kill either of them!"

With every eye in the venue on my back, what I pulled out was a small lump of iron. Far too unreliable to call a weapon, a scrap of metal with a single round left.

"I’m bringing both of them home alive. ...So, I’ll be taking my own time to think."

Saying that, I pressed the revolver’s muzzle to my own head. As if mocking the rotten scum around me, a smile spread across my face. Not out of joy. This was a declaration of war.

"He’s plotting something. Restrain this man!"

My smile didn’t waver. To turn this ending into a new beginning. Without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled the trigger.

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