Chương 34: In Spring, the Dawn

"Haah... haah... haah..." MURASAKI sank to her knees in the center of the room. The holographic folding fan lost its glow, sliding powerlessly from her grip. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, her face as pale as sheets of manuscript paper. Yet, her expression was radiantly clear.

"You actually did it..." As I rushed to her side, a faint, exhausted smile played on her lips.

"... I wrote it all. Every single one of the fifty-four chapters.... It was a long road."

"It was absolute perfection. Every single character you wove made my very soul vibrate."

"Hmph. You certainly have a silver tongue for an editor, don't you?" Accepting my hand, she stood up unsteadily on her feet. Then, her gaze drifted through the gaps in the torn shoji screen. Outside, the darkness was beginning to pale. The eastern sky was bleeding into a soft, deep shade of purple. The edge of the mountain line grew faintly luminous, and slender streaks of purplish clouds trailed elegantly across the horizon.

"... Look. In spring, the dawn," MURASAKI murmured.

"... I suppose it's not half bad. This view."

"Yeah. It's breathtakingly beautiful," I nodded.

"Just like Sei Shonagon said, this exact hour is incredibly emotional."

"Don't lump me together with a woman like her.... Though, I suppose I don't mind giving her a tiny bit of credit." She took a deep breath. The air no longer carried that stale, moldy stench. It smelled pristine and crisp, like the world right after a heavy rain. The [Onryo Virus] that had choked the capital had been completely purified by the raw power of her narrative.

"... MURASAKI." Yari emerged from the shadows of the debris. His clothing was scorched and torn into tatters, but he nodded with deep satisfaction.

"Magnificent. It seems your 'poison' has truly become the medicine that saved the capital."

"Don't get the wrong idea here," she snapped, turning her face away with a classic pout.

"I merely spat out the volatile frustration trapped inside my own gut.... Saving world peace was just a side effect." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Yet, as she said this, she looked back at me and gave a tiny, subtle wink.

"... But, thanks. If you hadn't been there, I probably would have abandoned the manuscript halfway through." A fierce warmth flooded my chest. I had successfully guided my idolized author to write her ultimate masterpiece. There was no greater honor for an editor—and a fan.

"Now, let's head home," Yari said, booting up the displacement device.

"Your narrative has rooted itself deeply into this era. With this, the future people of Japan should possess the 'literary literacy' to verbalize and objectively process their own heavy emotions."

"Right!" The light of the displacement matrix enveloped us. Within the fading dawn of Heian-kyo, MURASAKI remained there, waving her hand to us until the very end. An introverted, sharp-tongued, yet fiercely human and beautiful literary girl. Goodbye, Murasaki Shikibu. Your story will continue to save us, even a thousand years into your future. The light of the transfer grid converged into a single point. Still soaking in the afterglow of that ancient Heian dawn, I slowly opened my eyes.

"... Phew. This time, I really want to believe we've returned to a normal world." Before me was the familiar office of the Prime Minister's official residence. The fancy, pastel-colored fortune-telling parlor vibe from the previous timeline alteration had completely vanished. There were no bullet holes either. Instead, the entire room was wrapped in a deathly quiet stillness, resembling a massive "library."

Bookshelves were installed flush against every wall, packed tightly with dense philosophical treatises and complete volumes of classic literature. The ambient air drifted with the scent of old paper, rich coffee, and high-grade ink. The lighting was set to a calm, warm amber tone, cultivating a deeply intellectual atmosphere.

"... Not bad." I adjusted the bridge of my glasses. As a voracious reader, this tranquil space was highly preferable. Compared to the sheer "violence" and "cults" of the previous timelines, this environment felt like absolute heaven. Naosu Yari sat at a heavy mahogany desk, tracing lines with a fountain pen. Yet, his expression was far from pleasant. A deep furrow creaked between his brows, making him look as though he were contemplating the literal end of the world.

"Prime Minister, what's wrong? Why the heavy face?"

"... It is far too quiet." Yari placed his pen down.

"Take a look outside." Through the bulletproof glass—which now had a chic, smoked tint applied to it—I looked down at Neo-Tokyo. And instantly, a profound sense of wrongness gripped me. The city was not moving. No, people were there. Air-cars were flying through the skies. Yet, everything was moving at a sluggish pace, as if trapped in extreme slow motion. At the intersections, crowds of people stood perfectly still, locked in deep, unending discussions.

Cars didn't honk their horns; they simply yielded to one another... or rather, they sat in a state of frozen deadlock, endlessly evaluating the situation.

"What is everyone doing? Don't tell me they're waiting in line for HIMIKO's horoscopes again?"

"No. It is something infinitely more troublesome." Yari operated a remote control, booting up the massive monitor mounted on the wall.

"Watch the live Diet broadcast. It will give you a very clear understanding of the 'decision-making process' currently paralyzing this country."