Editing Toaru Majutsu no Index:Railgun Chapter3 (section)

===Part 6===

“Judgment? You’re kidding. Then I had this entirely wrong!”

“Who are you?”

“Amahebi Saeka. With my name and appearance, you can look up the rest in the Bank, right?”

“I don’t have a signal underground here.”

The conduit was part of a spiderweb-like network of underground pathways centered on a single main line, but it turned out they couldn’t return to the surface just anywhere.

With so many unexpected turns of event, Uiharu knew she needed to meet up with the more powerful Mikoto and Shirai as soon as she could, but she couldn’t seem to find an exit hatch.

The high school girl slumped limply over her back was heavy.

After the one path branched off into several and the branch they took branched off two or three times further, Uiharu came to a stop and lowered the heavy sack of flesh to the floor.

She looked back but saw no lights violently shining around. The footsteps didn’t seem to be directly pursuing them either.

“It wasn’t a suicide tool,” confessed Amahebi, her butt directly on the floor and her back against the wall. “The software known as ExitApp wasn’t developed as an efficient form of suicide.”

“Then what was it?”

“Using that health management tool causes the massage chair to move beyond its design limits and smash up the victim on the skeletal level.”

Uiharu wanted to say “and?”, but couldn’t get the word out.

The tanned high school girl continued on her own.

“''That result itself was a failure.''”

“Eh?”

“It was supposed to be a type of Testament using the chair’s electrode sleep assistance. But if you think of the Testaments as affecting the ‘software’ that are our memories, ExitApp was supposed to affect the ‘hardware’.”

“You mean the brain itself?”

“The idea was to choose which parts of the brain’s synapse wiring to cut off. Moving more than just the chair’s head was a bug and it was never designed to be used along with strong alcohol.”

“Choosing which parts of the brain’s synapse wiring to cut off? Now I’m even more confused. Why would you want a tool that did that?”

Making an ordinary health management app sounded more profitable than that.

Or an illegal suicide tool for that matter.

But Amahebi Saeka gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“It was supposed to solve a problem any Academy City kid should understand.”

“…”

The blonde, tanned girl could finally move her arm, so she tapped at her temple with a trembling finger.

“Academy City’s esper powers are created in here.”

“You don’t mean…”

“The wiring in your head is highly dependent on inborn talent and the esper development really only expands the traits that are already there. You might be able to remake a fire esper into a smoke esper, but you can’t fundamentally change a fire esper into a water esper. Just like a sunflower seed can’t bloom into a rose. It doesn’t matter how green your thumb is and it doesn’t matter if a selective breeding expert works at it, it isn’t going to happen.”

That was why some Academy City esper powers were rarer than others.

Everyone knew the #3 Level 5 controlled electricity, but that didn’t let you apply that to your own power. There were only 7 Level 5s in the entire city and no amount of hard work was going to make those powers easily mass produced.

It required innate genius.

There was an insurmountable wall in the way.

That “survival of the fittest” hierarchy plainly revealed something as poorly defined as the specs of people’s brains. No one had to explain it because everyone who experienced it instinctually understood how that food chain of predator and prey worked.

“''However.''” Amahebi went on to throw out all those assumptions. “What if you had the ability to freely close off your brain’s synapses wherever you wanted? What if you could alter the color of the synapse lines, including the nerve fibers, to change the conductivity of the electrical signals and redesign the basic structure of your brain’s wiring? Think of it like how a tree frog or chameleon uses its cell coloration to camouflage itself.”

“You could…''change your power after the fact''?”

“My short term research goal was to change the basic type of power, like from fire to water. Once I had done that, my long term research goal was to allow adaptable changes so you could switch between powers on the fly like you were using a multitool. A version of Dual Skill, basically. It really would be like a chameleon’s skin. Unfortunately, it all went wrong on the very first step.”

The experiment in cutting off synapse signals had failed.

An uncontrollable bug had transformed the chair into an execution machine that folded the user up. And when combined with strong alcohol, some people were unable to resist and ended up losing their lives.

“Then why is that failure being distributed? Didn’t you know you had failed!?”

“''Because so many people wanted the failure I had created.''”

Uiharu thought she must have misheard.

If that was true, then the developer herself may have found it even harder to believe than Uiharu.

“I shut down the project as a failure, but the program still leaked out. The people who wanted to die didn’t care if it was a failure. In fact, they were glad it hadn’t succeeded. There is no fully erasing something from the internet, so I uploaded tens of thousands of tools and codes with a similar structure but no actual effect. I also spread lots of false information about needing to consume caffeine or catechin instead of alcohol. But they still searched out the deadly combination from the ocean of misinformation.”

“…”

“Why are they so intent on finding it? That’s obvious. They only want one thing, so the numerical pros and cons are meaningless to them. They want to die. They just want to die. There is no reasoning them out of it when they are so focused on that one thing.”

That was frightening.

Real crimes didn’t always have an answer.

And even if you did track down the right answer, it didn’t guarantee a happy ending. There was nothing to be done if it turned out there was no way to stop the mass suicides.

Uiharu’s lips trembled, but she gathered all of her strength and managed to get her voice out.

“Was the completed tool leaked, or just a portion of the code?”

“?”

“If anyone could create it, no one person could monopolize the production and distribution route the way we’re seeing. The suicidal people are not creating the tool themselves, so does it require some special equipment or development software?”

“I’m not sure why that matters.”

“Amahebi-san! It might seem like ''second nature'' to you since you’re the developer, but not everyone can copy your talent. At the very least, I couldn’t create something like ExitApp. Don’t give up yet!! There’s something you know and I don’t. If we can eliminate that intermediary step, then no one can make ExitApp ever again!!”

The tanned high school girl thought for a moment and then groaned.

“The alcohol.”

“You mean how people need to knock themselves out with strong alcohol or they would leave the massage chair before ExitApp’s kill mode could do its job?” Uiharu frowned. “But I thought that used a video on how to efficiently knock yourself out.”

“It isn’t just a video,” spat the science gyaru. “It uses one, but it’s actually a program installed in the chair itself. It ensures the suicidal people don’t make any mistakes.”

“You mean…?”

“That is part of the current ExitApp. A special program is installed on the chair to manipulate the victim’s circulation and create a rapid intoxication like drinking in the bath. That way the size of your body and your alcohol tolerance don’t matter.”

There might be no eliminating the kill mode from ExitApp.

But what if they removed the part that knocked the victim out with alcohol?

Then everyone would leave the chair due to the pain and it wouldn’t function as a suicide tool.

“But that part will have already been copied countless times online. How could we erase that without a trace?” asked Amahebi.

“That part is distributed online using a video site, isn’t it? It isn’t handed over physically to make it harder to track?”

“Yes, but what does that-”

“''That puts it in my territory.''”

Uiharu didn’t let her finish.

The perfect suicide tool would lose its power if it lost its kill mode or the intoxication function. If the latter only existed online, then Uiharu could hunt it down. Once she was back on the surface and had a signal, she could end it all with her PDA.

And this was the perfect chance since the distributor would have their guard down.

If they switched to an offline exchange where both sides were cautiously hiding their identity, this wouldn’t work anymore.

So she had to delete every single copy before they could attempt a counterattack.

“C-can you really do that?”

“''I can.'' I could explain how, but it would be faster to get to the surface and show you.”

Uiharu Kazari took a breath and switched mental modes.

“And just to be safe, let’s make doubly sure. There is one way of ensuring no massage chair can ever kill anyone again, even if they start using offline distribution of the video.”

“How?”

“I take control of the data region used to install ExitApp. If I infect every massage chair in the world with a harmless virus, then there isn’t room for ExitApp anymore. I can do that with your help.”

It was like a bandage. If you covered the wound, the germs couldn’t get into your body. Since it was perfectly harmless, it might be more accurate to call it a security patch, but since she was taking over that memory without permission, it still technically counted as a virus.

“To make sure this works, I would like sample data for the kill mode and the intoxication function. You can get me that, can’t you? Give me that and get me aboveground and I can take care of the rest.”

“B-but the security differs between the manufacturer and model of the massage chairs. How can you possibly infect all of them!?”

“''I will find a way.'' Lives are on the line. If I say I will do it, I swear to you I will do it. So we need to get aboveground!!”

Someone suddenly emerged from the shadows.

And they spoke with a somehow absentminded tone.

“I won’t let you do that.”

The footstep seemed to only come later.

It was like spacetime was being distorted.

This conduit for network cables wasn’t known to the general public, so no one would show up there for no reason.

This only seemed to come out of nowhere to Uiharu because she couldn’t see every part of the incident.

This was probably someone who had been involved with ExitApp longer than her.

The newcomer looked to be college aged.

Her appearance wouldn’t normally have been alarming. Her hair was braided and she wore plain glasses. She wore an ankle-length skirt and a blouse with a cardigan worn over the shoulders, making her look quite guarded. She wore very little makeup for her age and had the looks of the knitter that every class seemed to have. She shouldn’t have made anyone fear for their life. Running into them out on the streets late at night, this braid woman would have seemed more comforting than the blonde, tanned gyaru.

Yet she terrified Uiharu.

It was impossible to predict what she would do next.

There were no hints to be found.

She had the air of unpredictable unexploded ordnance, like she would say hello with a smile and then say good day while stabbing you repeatedly. So Uiharu did not dare take a single step. She couldn’t do anything without thinking it through. The all-purpose spice of a polite smile wasn’t going to work here. One careless move would tread on one of the many landmines and instantly reveal who that woman really was. So Uiharu was trapped. There was nothing she could do.

Why was someone so clearly dangerous free to walk around unmonitored?

How far gone was Academy City if they couldn’t separate out someone like this who radiated thick, invisible walls in all 360 degrees around her!?

The woman smiled while standing off kilter.

“I ordered a guaranteed death with no pain or fear. Everything else is in place, so why has my ExitApp still not arrived!? …Because someone is screwing me over, like usual. All I want is happiness. And this is the only way. The perfect suicide tool is the only way to get Ta-kun to love me again. I don’t care what they say, it isn’t a lost cause.”

A guaranteed death, everything else, ExitApp, screwing me over, love me again.

The tanned high school girl had said there was no reasoning them out of it, but Uiharu made some guesses base on the bits and pieces of information and tried her best to put a stop to it.

She took a step through the minefield.

(Does she want to die to make her ex regret breaking up with her?)

“W-wait! You aren’t going to find happiness that way!”

“Oh, yes I will. I will claim happiness with Ta-kun for myself. As long as I get that woman to use the suicide tool, everyone will conclude she killed herself no matter how unnatural it might look, right?”

“Sh-she’s completely insane…”

The gentle smile split wide across her face.

Her eyes shined bright.

“Insane? You’re offering a tool that makes it look like someone killed themselves. ''How is that not the perfect murder weapon''?”

The woman’s voice seemed to melt from her tongue.

Uiharu had trouble breathing.

She had completely misread the worst possible use of a perfect suicide tool.

With this woman, it was beginning to evolve into ''something more than just a way to kill yourself!

“Ah, ahh, ah.”

Amahebi Saeka’s eyes widened past the limit and her mouth flapped wordlessly.

She must have thought the suicides were as bad as it could get.

She would have convinced herself it couldn’t get any worse.

But there was no bottom to the depths of human desire.

Humans would learn, adapt, and evolve.

The college woman’s voice wavered as she smiled faintly and listed as if drunk. She gave off the bewitching aura of a crazed woman. She possessed an intimidating air that existed beyond science – the same one that ancient artists had carved into their hannya masks.

It existed in a dimension separate from esper powers or talent.

Something unseen bound Uiharu and the high school girl’s souls.

The college woman did not move particularly quickly.

In fact, she moved slowly while lovingly rubbing her hand against her lower stomach.

That seemed to explain everything.

But Uiharu didn’t want accept it.

She didn’t want the venomous jellyfish’s bloody stingers to ensnare her soul any more than they already had.

This explained why she wore such a loose long skirt, it explained why she wore the cardigan for extra protection against the cold, it explained what had happened between her and Ta-kun, and it explained how someone who looked so gentle and harmless had become so thoroughly broken. Instead of a single point to avoid stepping on, this was a network of countless points, too many to keep hidden, and it ran through Uiharu’s mind against her will. It was like the work of malevolent stars – pulsars and quasars that used their unfathomably powerful flashes of electromagnetic waves to send out cosmic signals that destroyed people’s minds.

This destruction had to be something a middle or high school mind was not yet equipped to understand.

“Hee hee hee. So there’s nothing to worry about. Ah ha ha. Eh heh heh. Make sure to wish me happiness.”

Uiharu heard a series of quiet sounds like metal gears turning.

It made her think of a large utility knife used to cut thick cardboard.

But that wasn’t it.

The woman actually pulled out a metal measuring tape. She extended it from her hip like she was slowly drawing a sword from its scabbard.

It was such an unexpected choice, nothing she said seemed to fit together even as this developed into a real crisis, and the metal measuring tape’s edge provided the same fear as an actual blade. Everything about this situation was much too dangerous.

There was a complete lack of mutual understanding, like the crazy woman had forced Uiharu to play a deadly game of rock-paper-scissors where the loser was killed, but revealed three seconds before the game began that there was no such thing as rock, paper, or scissors in the game.

Was this really how it was going to start?

Was there any way to win or lose this!?

“Everything will be fine. Yes, just fine. Ta-kun and I are going to be so happy together. It doesn’t matter what I say here or who hears it because nothing can change how it all ends. Once I have the ExitApp – once I have that tool, I can rid both our lives of that filthy whore and give us a happy ending with smiles all around. So hand over the perfect suicide tool. Hand over my ''key to happinesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss''!!”

Uiharu was overwhelmed.

Her physical abilities didn’t even come into it. She ended up standing perfectly still while she heard something slicing through the air.