Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint
Chapter 238: The Dark Zone


The inner area of the Meta Conveyor Belt was also known as the Dark Zone.

Unlike the Duchy of Mist, this name was purely symbolic.

Contrary to its name, the Dark Zone was anything but dark. In fact, it was much brighter than other areas.

Lights that allowed work to continue deep into the night.

Searchlights tracking fleeing individuals.

Lighthouses from tall towers overseeing the laborers.

Despite its brightness, paradoxically, this area was named the Dark Zone.

Those within the Inner Circle couldn’t leave the belt until their sentence was over. Thus, events inside the belt remained isolated from the outside world.

Thus, the Dark Zone existed as an information void due to this lack of communication.

Unlike the serene outer belt, the inner zone was filled with laborers brought in for breaking rules or committing crimes. These individuals kept working without the slightest freedom, their labor serving as punishment.

"Huff, huff."

In the communal farm, one of the Military State's seven major inventions, the Chimera Bean, thrived abundantly. The large beans were so enticing that the farmer who cultivated them might feel full just by looking at them.

But the laborer was not a farmer, and he felt no pride in nurturing crops.

This farm wasn't his; he was forced to work it.

Chimera Beans grew fast and yielded bountiful harvests, but they required a lot of water and immense labor. Without regular pruning, their vines would sprawl uncontrollably and the bean would collapse from their own weight.

It was his job to chase away birds and insects drawn to these overgrown beans.

As a prisoner and laborer, he snapped the branches of the Chimera Beans with all his might despite his exhaustion.

As he did this monotonous task, he reflected on how he ended up here.

Once, with his meager strength, he had beaten up a supervisor who demanded a bribe. Full of youthful vigor, he couldn't tolerate such corruption. When his fist connected with the supervisor's jaw, he felt no regret.

But now, a year later, he regretted that day every waking moment. If he hadn't acted rashly then, he wouldn't have been in this situation now.

He could no longer even find a trace of the anger that had landed him here. He only wished for each day to pass quicker, and for this endless labor to end.

At the mere thought of "escape," fear gripped him. Escape was inconceivable. Encircled by watchful searchlights, he'd witnessed disobedient souls dragged deeper into darkness.

He didn't know what lay deeper within, but one thing was certain: in the past year, no one had ever returned from there. This certainty filled him with dread.

His only comfort was knowing that the supervisor who had dared to take bribes in the Military State had vanished into the depths. That was his only solace.

In the Military State, only the State could exploit others.

With a clouded mind, he thought this as he cut through the bushes with a blunt sickle.

Then, it happened.

『This is Signaller Io of the Military State, informing all laborers. All laborers are to cease working and return to their quarters immediately. I repeat, all laborers currently working must return to their quarters immediately. This is an order. Over.』

He couldn't believe his ears. An early end to labor for the Military State laborer was like a miracle—sought after but rarely granted. Yet here it was, unexpectedly.

Thinking he might have misheard, he glanced up at the still-bright sky. It wasn't yet time for the workday to end.

The supervisor yelled, threatening penalties if they didn't stop working immediately. This added to the confusion and disbelief among the laborers.

Grabbing his tools hastily, he hurried back towards his quarters.

"Living long enough, you see days like this."

This sudden stroke of luck made life feel a bit more worth living.

***

The Gunner Corps, without their precious Gunmaster, found themselves powerless.

They couldn’t even provide effective cover.

Bullets sporadically struck the outer walls of the automaton carriage, but those already fortified walls were now under Tyr's control. The bullets fired at the alchemic steel reinforced with the sinister mana bounced off uselessly.

As I drove onward, I spotted obstacles blocking the road ahead—iron spikes and imposing barricades of alchemic steel.

I immediately shouted.

"Mr. Shei! The road is blocked!"

"I know."

The Regressor leaped from her seat, landing on the hood of the automaton carriage.

With a swift motion, she hurled Jizan towards the approaching barricade.

Terra Firma Arts. Earth Scythe.

Spinning through the air, Jizan collided with the barricade.

In an instant, the barricade and spikes were sent flying with metallic clatters.

The blade, light only to its acknowledged wielder, felt heavier than the carriage to anyone else.

As it spun and cut through obstacles...

Barricades and obstacles became like mere scarecrows before the spinning Jizan, the thresher of the earth, formidable harvester of steel crops.

Amidst the thunderous clanging of scattered steel fragments, I pressed harder on the pedal.

"We're breaking through! Everyone brace yourselves... Agh!"

I winced as my head bumped against the carriage's interior. Despite the Regressor's efforts to clear debris, small jolts still felt like kicks.

Was this thing even designed with people in mind?

No, in the eyes of the Military State, its citizens were not viewed as people.

"This darn carriage... Mr. Shei! Isn't there a better vehicle for all of us? Something excellent?"

"Does such a thing exist?"

The Regressor, standing by the carriage, stretched to retrieve the fallen Jizan.

It was a remarkable feat.

After retrieving the blade, she returned to her seat. I grumbled while gripping the wheel.

"Or a flying tool! I saw you riding the wind earlier!"

"There are too many people now. The heavier it is, the harder it is to fly."

"Just try harder!"

"You’re too reckless with others' power–"

The Regressor's eyes widened suddenly. She swiftly pulled me aside.

"Watch out!"

Shoving me out of the way, the Regressor extended Chun-aeng.

Sky Blade Art, Daybreak.

An invisible blade shot from Chun-aeng, narrowly missing my nose.

My vision momentarily blurred, followed by a distant explosion as the shell meant for us detonated in mid-air.

I felt a brief warmth on my left cheek.

"Those bastards tried to pin us down and snipe us! Hah, not a chance! As if anyone would get hit by that!"

The Regressor looked impressively bold today. I shared my honest thoughts.

"Mr. Shei, you look a bit cool today. I think I might fall for you."

"What?! Stop spouting nonsense in such a dangerous moment! Focus on driving!"

Glancing around, I spotted a mobile cannon mounted on a vehicle, its barrel aimed squarely at us.

It appeared their strategy was to corner us on the road and rain shells down upon us.

I pressed harder on the pedal.

"They’re not on the road. They won't follow far. How about we keep evading and find a way to escape?"

"I’d rather not."

"Can't handle it? Was the earlier move a fluke?"

"Of course not! It’s about positioning. The art of a nullity in interpretation. Didn’t I explain it before? With the right positioning, hitting something mid-air isn't so difficult. That’s why we can’t fly. The chance of being intercepted...”

The Regressor muttered regretfully.

So, she would have flown if not for the risk of interception.

I might have misunderstood, thinking she was stingy.

"But it drains Qi and focus, so I don’t want to deflect each one. How about trusting Tyrkanzyaka and enduring it?"

"With my body?"

"I meant the car's body, but if you can endure it physically, even better."

"Nonsense. I’m fragile. A shell would tear me apart, and even if the car gets hit, the shock will disrupt my driving! Protect me!"

"Tch, that doesn’t work either, huh."

"Obviously! Go deal with them!"

The Regressor wanted to act, but something held her back as she glanced ahead.

"I want to, but if I leave now..."

"Oh! Then we can't break the next barricade! That’s dangerous for me! Please stay by my side! Don’t go anywhere!"

"Y-Yeah... but why do you always talk like that... Tch, anyway. I don’t want to use magic, but maybe I’ll summon lightning...."

As the Regressor prepared to summon lightning, a white horse running beside the carriage broke formation and galloped ahead.

The Princess and Shiati were riding together.

The Regressor finally remembered their existence.

"Right. The Resistance. Let’s leave it to them."

"Will those two be enough? the Princess doesn't seem very strong..."

I voiced my doubts.

Naturally.

While Shiati seemed to have gained new abilities in the Resistance, the pink-haired princess, lacking significant power, often threw herself recklessly into danger.

It was hard to trust her.

Only a fool would do so.

Seeing my doubt, the Regressor responded with amusement.

"So there's something you don't know? Haha. Well, it's not like it is easy to find out. Even the Princess herself may not fully understand it."

"What is it?"

"Want me to tell you? If you ask nicely, I might consider it."

Her smug tone annoyed me, so I read her thoughts instead.

As the Regressor recalled it, I could now read her memories from her past life.

「The Princess is from the Grandiomor royal family. The Grandiomor royal family is one of the five sovereigns who overthrew the Human King. The Princess, in particular, held the unique ability to avoid human hostility.」

An ability to avoid hostility?

I looked again at the white horse charging directly at the enemy.

The artillerymen hesitated.

Should they target the white horse or the automaton carriage heading for Command?

The Regressor, intercepting shells mid-air, glared at them.

Logically, it would have been wiser to target the white horse.

But the artillerymen kept their sights trained on us.

Noticing this, I spoke.

"Does she have the ability to avoid being targeted?"

"Pretty close. How did you know?"

"Because the cannons are still aimed at us even though the Princess is approaching them!"

Artillery wasn’t highly valued.

Loud and sluggish shells were effective against dense groups, but the skilled could deflect or catch them.

Still, cannons were better than guns.

At least cannons could breach walls or destroy passing carriages.

Just like now!

"Technically, an ability to evade hostility. It diminishes the risk of betrayal, lessens danger in conflicts, and encourages leniency in others. It's an ability unique to the descendant of the ancient king. That was also why the Grandiomor royal family lasted so long."

"That’s beside the point! Their hostility is aimed at us! We're in danger!"

I exclaimed.

Shiati, riding behind the Princess, removed her left glove—not her prosthetic right hand, but her scarred left hand.

The most noticeable were the disfigured fingers of her left hand.

Everyone watched her actions.

Shiati raised her left hand and snapped her pinky finger upwards.

Simultaneously, the cannon's barrel twisted abruptly, mirroring Shiati's finger.

There was a boom.

The cannon, designed to withstand explosions, grotesquely twisted upward like Shiati's finger, spewing fire and smoke.

Shiati calmly put her glove back on and signaled to the Princess to retreat.

Despite neutralizing the enemy, the Princess didn't seem happy.

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