Chương 51: Worldline α: Gold in the Trash Bin

At the bottom of the black mud. Inside my blinking consciousness where I couldn't even breathe, an impossible phenomenon was taking place. RYOMA's cyber-anchor had pierced through the abyss from high above. The golden light radiating from it was forcefully attracting the surrounding "dead data" one after another. Like iron filings drawn to a magnet, they began to aggregate—but they were moving with an undeniable collective will. 『A—ga-ga-ga-ga...!! 』 Gennai's panicked scream thundered inside my brain chip. 『Boss!

You're insane! The memory cores are gonna fry! The data volume inside the Trash Bin isn't just measured in Terabytes anymore! It's an astronomical anomaly! 』 『I don't give a damn! Give me all of it! 』 RYOMA's voice roared back. 『I am the "Laundryman"! Washing dirty things, reviving thrown-away things, and returning them to the world sparkling clean—that is my damn job, isn't it?! 』 CRACKLE-SNAP-BANG!! The golden light surged past its critical mass.

The freezing chill of the sludge evaporated instantly, replaced by a swirling vortex of white-hot kinetic energy. —I can hear them. —Those nostalgic voices. The voices of the beloved heroes I had met, been encouraged by, and sometimes even fought with across my long journey. BOOM!! The massive anchor was violently reeled upward. My body was yanked along with it, violently dragging me through the depths toward the surface.

"Pffft-hah!!" I erupted out of the sea of mud. I sucked fresh air hungrily into my starved lungs, coughing violently. As I collapsed hard onto the deck of the Irohamaru, I saw RYOMA standing tall like a Guardian Deity, pulling up the anchor chain while venting heavy steam from his entire body.

"Whew... hah... I hooked 'em... the big fish...!" RYOMA was clearly at his absolute operational limit. Portions of his synthetic skin had melted away, revealing the glowing, red-hot alloy of his internal frame. Yet, he flashed his trademark blinding grin, pointing toward the "catch" he had dragged from the abyss.

"Behold! I've brought the very dawn of Japan with me!" Down on the earth below, Hijikata Toshizo—now fully transformed into a spectral werewolf—leaped high into the air to swat the Irohamaru out of the sky. The exact millisecond his katana was about to tear through the ship's underbelly—"—Harmony is to be valued above all else. Violence is so dreadfully uncouth." CHIIIIING!! Hijikata's lethal blade violently deflected off an invisible, geometric wall of light materialized in mid-air.

[The Seventeen-Article Constitution: Absolute Defense Field] The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"W-What?! Who goes there?!" Hijikata stabilized his posture in mid-air, landing heavily back on the ground. Emerging from the radiant light was a slender, elegant man clad in flowing ancient court robes, casually holding a ritual shaku baton. His body was semi-transparent, occasionally flickering with digital noise like a "ghost"—yet his demeanor remained as magnificently arrogant and effortlessly calm as always.

"Hey there. It's been a while, Kataru-kun." He tapped the baton lightly against his shoulder.

"It seems people are engaging in some rather barbaric squabbles in my nation. As a public servant, I simply cannot overlook this."

"P-PRINCE! Shotoku Taishi...!" As I yelled out in disbelief, he flashed me a sleek wink.

"Though I'm just a ghost for now... Oops, look out. Here they come." From behind Hijikata, the Shinsengumi squad members—now a ravenous pack of cybernetic wolves—charged forward all at once. PRINCE didn't move to fight; he was a commander. With a single snap of his fingers, another distinct shadow blurred through the battlefield like a gale.

"Too slow!!" FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-SLASH!! An invisible lattice of hyper-velocity slashes tore through the air, blasting several squad members away. A pure residual image. He was moving too fast for the naked eye to track. The shadow that lightly touched down on the ship's bulwark possessed brilliant, glowing armor and the bright, innocent face of a young boy.

"USHIWAKA!"

"Heh, kept you waiting, partner!" Minamoto no Yoshitsune—USHIWAKA—carried his laser blade, Usumidori, over his shoulder and flashed a massive grin.

"I was dying of pure boredom at the bottom of hell! Just when I thought I hadn't had enough carnage, you throw me an invite to the ultimate brawl!"

"Impertinent ghosts...!" Hijikata snarled.

"All units, form up! Under the banner of Makoto, annihilate the anomalies!" The Shinsengumi's murderous intent swelled to a suffocating pressure. Yet, our reinforcements were far from finished. The sky suddenly darkened. The static-heavy starlight was instantly choked out by a dense shroud of heavy storm clouds. 『... Let it rain. O parched and withered souls. 』 A beautifully synthesized, chillingly cold voice.

Descending through a fracture in the clouds was a maiden in pure white shrine robes, flanked by six levitating mirror funnels. The face behind the removed kitsune mask was that of the innocent girl she had once shown me.

"Himiko-chan!" 『Kataru-sama... We meet again. 』 HIMIKO offered a graceful, floating bow in mid-air, her spiritual body shimmering into floating particles of data. 『Thanks to the "narrative" you gave me, I've grown a little stronger.... Now, I am no longer afraid of the antis. 』 CRACK-BOOOOM!! With a casual wave of her hand, a massive, localized lightning strike detonated directly on top of the Shinsengumi. The high-voltage surge instantly paralyzed the squad members, locking their bodies in place.

And to deliver the final blow, a toxic, deep purple mist crawled across the battlefield. 『Ugh, the absolute worst. Why on earth do I have to come to a muddy, sweat-stained dump like this? 』 A lethargic, utterly downer voice. A cynical, shut-in literary girl clad in traditional juni-hitoe robes materialized, casually fluttering a holographic paper fan.

"Murasaki-san!" 『Oh, quiet. Spring is peak hype, but right now, it's a total battlefield. 』 Hiding her mouth behind her fan, she looked down at Hijikata and his men with freezing, judgmental eyes. 『Men and their sweaty, brute conflicts... It completely lacks even a shred of aesthetic taste. Allow my brush to grant you a slightly more "refined" demise.

』 As she flicked her fan, glowing logographic characters like [QUAGMIRE], [CONFUSION], and [MELANCHOLY] materialized in the air, transforming into physical debuff matrices that bombarded the Shinsengumi. Their movements ground to a halt, and several squad members suddenly burst into tears. A direct neurological mental attack. PRINCE, USHIWAKA, HIMIKO, MURASAKI. Asuka, Heian, Yayoi, and mid-Heian. An all-star vanguard transcending over a thousand years of history had assembled under the fractured sky of 1867.

"Now that... is a magnificent sight to behold!" RYOMA chuckled, wiping the synthetic sweat from his brow.

"This right here is the true history of Japan! We've done nothing but fight each other since the dawn of time, but when the chips are down, we know exactly how to lock arms! That's our ultimate strength!"