Regression is Too Much - Chapter 323

WeTried Translations

Translator: ZEROSUGAR

Editor: Abstract

Chapter 323: The past (2)

──────

"What about the ability to return to the past?"

"..."

"Since they went back, they'd know every piece of future information there is, and if things got dangerous, they could just retreat back to the past again. They've already lived through the situation, so they'd handle it better the second time. With an ability like that, wouldn't a person like that eventually grow strong enough to rule the entire Earth?"

One writer insisted that a "time traveler" might exist. He was the least accomplished among the writers gathered in the room, and something about his appearance gave off a faintly dim impression too.

Sure enough, an ability to travel to the past would be genuinely, genuinely threatening. It would be an ability close to invincibility. And it was popular enough as a concept in its own right.

"We're not idiots. You think we didn't bring up the time traveler because we didn't know?"

"Why'd they even invite that guy?"

It was an ability every writer in the room had thought of at least once, yet none of them had bothered to say it out loud.

"Wait, why's everyone reacting like that?"

The President, being relatively unfamiliar with this kind of debate, couldn't understand their fierce reaction. What was so infuriating about a time-based power?

"Mr. President. Allow me to explain."

An elder writer stepped forward.

"Let's assume such a person exists. Let's assume they turned back time."

"All right."

"In that case. Do we have any way of perceiving it?"

"..."

The President mulled it over. In the end, he had no choice but to nod.

Right. Even if some superhuman capable of freely manipulating time existed somewhere in this world, there was no way for the rest of them to ever perceive it. No matter how many times that person regressed. Whether this was cycle one, cycle two, or cycle nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine. To everyone else, time would simply feel like it flowed in a single straight line.

"Well, if there's someone who can only go back once... that's manageable. You just make a plan, and if the plan goes wrong, you change the plan."

"Why is that?"

"Since they traveled back through time, they'd know everything that's going to happen in the future, right? So the time traveler would build their plans based on the information they already have. Somewhere in that process, they'd end up interfering with the United States Government too."

"...And once we recognize that interference, we act differently. That's the idea."

"Exactly."

The way to counter a regressor is to act differently from what the future held. If you turn every piece of information they possess into worthless scrap paper, the regressor sinks without being able to do a thing. Their whole ability becomes garbage.

"But if they can travel back multiple times, this entire debate becomes meaningless. That's... close to being a god."

But without a limit. There's nothing you could do to stop something like that. Because none of us are free from time.

"We came here in the first place to prepare for 'a lethal ability that might exist.' So what are we supposed to do if you bring up an ability that's impossible to counter at all?"

Other abilities could at least be handled with some limitation. A teleportation user? Just eliminate the space available for teleportation. Make the paths themselves absurdly narrow.

An invisible person? You could counter that with scent particles, or invisible lasers, something along those lines.

Someone with an invincible body? Go after them mentally instead.

Every ability has some weakness you can dig into, however faint. Fiction constantly exploits weaknesses like these.

But a time-travel ability. There's no answer besides killing them before they ever use the power. On top of that, the conditions for the ability might differ case by case. And above all, there's no way at all to figure out who the time traveler even is.

Fine, say you somehow figured it out. Say you noticed the regressor.

So what? What then? What are you supposed to do about it? Write a note on your phone saying so-and-so is a time-based power user? Or just try really hard to remember?

Once time turns back, everything reverts to what it was before. Humans can't resist time.

"Hmm."

Only then did the President understand why the other writers had gotten so worked up. Sure enough, if someone brought up an "invincible power" and demanded to know how you'd stop it, there was nothing left to say. You just had to take the hit.

"I might actually be able to do it."

A confident voice rang out just then. Footsteps echoed, clack, clack.

"My ability is Adaptation. Wouldn't it be enough if I just adapted to that time travel?"

The president of the Player Association, Michael Zetter, walked into the conference room with a confident smile. The President had called him in as a kind of on-site consultant, and given how packed his schedule was, he'd shown up a little late.

"That... might be possible, I suppose."

"You could recognize whether your adaptation succeeded, sure, but wouldn't it be impossible to recognize a failure?"

"We don't even know if any of the abilities we've discussed actually exist in the first place..."

"..."

But contrary to his confidence, the writers' response was lukewarm at best, and Zetter sat down looking a little embarrassed. At this point in time, Zetter still had his emotions intact.

"Well, let's get back to the headache-inducing discussion. Where were we?"

Regardless, the meeting with Zetter present produced considerable results. Thanks to Michael Zetter providing the information that "a player who enters Floor 1 must exit from the same location," they were able to set traps to catch players hiding inside the Tower, and it also led to the idea of suppressing crime through player vigilante groups.

They did conclude that assassinations of politicians couldn't be stopped except by using other players, but even so, progress was progress.

Pax Americana. Even as the world shook and trembled, America stood firm. And... it would need to remain that way going forward.

* * *

Time passed. The Player Association system successfully took root, and the "player heroization" project Michael Zetter had been championing proceeded smoothly. Thanks to the efforts of numerous patriots, the crime rate didn't decrease, but it didn't rise either. The number of player criminals killed climbed higher with each passing day.

Order. Order was being maintained. People praised the President for his appropriate response, and looked up to the devoted president of the Player Association. Everything was proceeding according to plan. Exactly as the Book had prophesied.

And so, back at that secret laboratory once again. The lab, which borrowed the Book long-term from its owner Ronald, could only conduct experiments on designated days due to Ronald's health issues.

"Did you obtain the information you needed?"

"Yes."

They'd already gathered every piece of information necessary for international affairs. The Book didn't demand a great price when trading information about ordinary people without status windows. That was part of why the President believed he could maintain his grip on power going forward. The information they'd already gained would serve as a guiding light pointing toward the direction ahead.

But even with all the necessary information obtained, plenty of gold bars remained. What they'd do from here on wasn't gathering necessary information, but running various experiments on the Book itself. Today's topic was, "How far is the Book capable of answering?"

They'd already solved every Millennium Problem. The Book had rattled off answers without demanding even a large sacrifice. What they'd ask from here on were more abstract questions.

"If god exists, what is its essential nature?"

"Why does god permit evil and suffering?"

"Does the existence of god affect the origin and purpose of the universe?"

"Does an absolute ethical standard exist?"

"Is mathematical truth something humans create? Or something that already exists, which we merely discover?"

"We're curious about an example of a perfect social system."

The scientists threw out their prepared questions, and the Book stayed silent. They were, after all, asking questions the human mind fundamentally couldn't answer, so the Book's silence made sense in its own way.

"Could it be that the gold we prepared just wasn't enough?"

"That's likely, if this Book really is omniscient and omnipotent."

"Part of me wants to just offer up the entire Earth to hear the answer."

"...That's a terrifying thing to say."

Listening to the scientists chatter, the President stroked his chin. These weren't questions he'd expected the Book to actually answer. He'd thrown them out more in the spirit of "just in case." So no one was particularly disappointed either.

"Book."

So the question the President asked now wasn't one he held much expectation for either.

"Is the Book affected by fluctuations in time?"

Just tossed out, casually. Just something he said. It was little more than something that occurred to him, remembering the discussion he'd once held with the novelists.

□The Book is unique.□

That was how it went, right up until the Book flipped open with a rustle and offered its answer.

"Uh, uh?"

"Time?"

"Wait a second..."

The Book's answer implied that "time does not always flow forward."

"Gold! Check the gold!"

"Barely any of it disappeared!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Only about one ton is gone!"

To the President, the world felt like it had slowed to a crawl.

"That... this seems to be a question about one of the Book's fundamental elements, so the required sacrifice was apparently small."

"We never thought to ask about time. How did you come up with an idea like that? Remarkable."

"Time might be able to run backward, or accelerate..."

"..."

He was an extremely rational man. He'd snap and rage the moment a reporter came into view, but at his core he was closer to cold and composed.

"Heh."

But even a President like that.

The elation he felt now was... nearly unbearable.

He had just found the hem of god's robe.

* * *

Again. Time passed, and passed some more.

The President's authority was now absolute. His public image remained the same as ever, but his political grip had reached the level of an emperor's. Other world leaders were now required to attend every meeting he presided over without fail, and when it came to setting direction, they watched the American President's mouth first before anything else.

Whatever he wanted, he could do. That was what authority earned from the Book meant. He had become, in the truest sense, the leader of Earth.

And so, one night. At the bar set up in the White House.

"Zetter."

"Yes, Mr. President."

The President, drunk, asked Michael Zetter, who had grown noticeably more curt lately.

"There's that book, isn't there. The Book of Truth."

"Go ahead."

"That book... apparently stays unique even when time turns back."

"Yes."

"And the Book, beyond simply providing information, apparently makes 'trades' too."

"Yes."

"In that case."

Clink. Crash!

His glass fell and shattered on the floor, but no one paid it any mind.

"If we offer a sufficient sacrifice... wouldn't it be possible for us to leave a tiny 'mark' on the Book?"

The President's eyes were burning, blazing with fire.

"When you say mark."

"I mean. At a specific spot on the Book. Invisible to the eye, an extremely, extremely, extremely tiny dot... something like that, wouldn't that be possible to leave?"

"..."

Zetter looked the President over, sizing him up. As far as he could tell, the President was worked up right now.

"And what exactly would leaving that dot accomplish?"

"The time traveler. Remember him? The one whose very existence is supposedly like a god's."

"You don't mean."

"Heh heh."

Excited breath huffing out through his nose.

"If the Book allows us to leave the tiniest of marks on it. If we could put a dot on the Book's cover."

"..."

"Then even if time turns back... the mark would remain."

"..."

"Wouldn't there be a mark left behind at the location we agreed on, one that we never actually made? Even though we did nothing?"