Chương 11: Chapter 3 : The Price of Becoming a Witch(Part 2)

A monster became a beautiful girl. That was the simplest way to describe what happened. The Golden Ratio was often cited as humanity's ideal standard of beauty. Mathematically, it was roughly 1 to 1. 618, though faces and bodies involved far more complicated factors than a single number. Even so, the body projected before me was flawless. Every proportion felt natural. Every line looked intentional. Skin as white as fresh snow. Long silver-white hair. Crimson eyes that stood out like jewels. Not a single blemish.

Not a single imperfection. The only issue was the short hair.

"Residual mass detected during Golden Ratio reconstruction," the voice explained.

"Applying Witch-class parameters. Excess material will be converted into hair." The short hair immediately began growing. It flowed past my shoulders. Then further. Eventually stopping somewhere around the middle of my back. I had to admit it. The longer hair suited the body. In fantasy stories and games, magical power was often associated with hair. The concept traced its origins back to ancient spiritual traditions. Under normal circumstances, I would have dismissed such ideas.

Unfortunately, normal circumstances had ceased to exist the moment a giant Gate appeared in reality. If the beings behind all this claimed hair mattered for a Witch, I wasn't about to argue. My projected height settled around one hundred and forty centimeters. Small enough to pass for an older elementary-school student or perhaps a middle-school girl. My chest wasn't exactly impressive either. Probably an A-cup. Definitely not a B.

"Do I still have excess compensation available?" I asked.

"And make sure I can express emotions. Facial expressions are important for communication."

"There is remaining compensation available." Good. The body issue was mostly solved. What I really wanted now was information. The largest problems still remained unsolved, and judging by everything I'd learned so far, these beings probably wouldn't handle them for me. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Still, asking cost nothing.

"Give me a structural map of this Waste Bin. A catalog of monsters and resources. And tell me how humanity can understand what this place actually is."

"The structure will become visible automatically after class acquisition. As for monsters, their contents are unknown. Discarded objects arrive continuously. We create and discard. Nothing more. A resource catalog can be generated. Cleaning tools and selected materials have already been placed inside the container. Use them freely. Recovered objects may be taken outside. Inactive entities and externally introduced materials will eventually decompose." Not ideal. The catalog was useful, but the rest wasn't.

That explained the cigarette filter I'd found earlier. It had been turning transparent because it was being broken down by whatever rules governed this place. Fortunately, carrying an object seemed to prevent decomposition. That was something. As for cleaning tools... Let's call them what they really were. Weapons. And if weapons could be taken outside... The government was going to have an interesting few months ahead of it. Honestly, I'd need government support anyway. No individual could manage this mess alone.

Another thought crossed my mind.

"If I'd opened that container earlier," I muttered, "would I have avoided playing chicken with that Three-Eyed thing?" Curious, I approached the frozen creature and opened the container. Inside were several gold coins without markings and a short black rod roughly the length of my palm. I pocketed the coins. Then picked up the rod. After examining it from several angles, I gave it a small swing. Click. A section shot out from the tip. The rod extended to roughly thirty centimeters. A collapsible baton.

Not exactly the futuristic super-weapon I'd imagined. No beam blade. No plasma edge. No glowing energy field. Just a metal stick. Still, it felt surprisingly well balanced.

"Are all weapons this shape?" I asked.

"And does this thing have any special functions?"

"Cleaning tool designation updated. Future terminology: weapon. Weapon form is determined by the opener's class and aptitude. Available weapons vary according to class rank. Any individual may wield any weapon. However, insufficient aptitude may prevent effective use. The weapon currently in your possession is most accurately translated as a standard decomposition rod." A loot box. Essentially, I'd opened a class-specific loot box. The word standard suggested stronger versions existed.

That was both reassuring and mildly terrifying. I experimentally tapped the frozen Three-Eyed creature. Nothing happened.

"The target is currently under spatial and temporal fixation. External alterations are prohibited. After release, immediate disposal is recommended. Because you have not yet acquired your class, weapon functionality remains limited." I frowned.

"Then why not handle everything yourselves?" That question had been bothering me for a while.

"You can freeze monsters in space and time. You created this entire class system. You built these Gates. Why go through all this trouble instead of cleaning up your own mess?" The answer came immediately.

"We create. We produce. That is our purpose. All other actions are unnecessary. Disposal requires expenditure of time. We dislike expending time. Therefore disposal is delegated. After delegation, responsibility is transferred. Current negotiations exist solely to reduce future time expenditure." I stared into empty space. That was somehow the most human answer I'd heard all day. They weren't evil. They weren't malicious. They were simply obsessed.

The cosmic equivalent of someone so focused on a hobby that they forgot basic life maintenance. Human beings did that too. Maybe not on an interplanetary scale. But the principle was the same.

"Fine," I sighed.

"Either way, those monsters need to be dealt with. One more question. Am I the only person inside the Gate right now?"

"Yes. Allowing multiple individuals simultaneously would significantly increase negotiation duration. The Gate is currently dormant. Additional entries are scheduled approximately seventy-two hours after negotiation completion. Until then, entry permissions are restricted to yourself and designated individuals. Remaining compensation will now be allocated toward—""Wait." The voice paused.

"Negotiation is not yet finished." There was a noticeable silence. Then—"... Proceed." For the first time, I could practically hear irritation in its voice. Apparently cosmic beings disliked meetings just as much as humans did. Good to know.

"This won't take long. I need to know how entry and exit work. I need a way to transport resources and weapons. And I want a method for future negotiations. There's still too much room for misunderstandings between us." The pause that followed felt almost painful. As if the entire collective was regretting ever learning how humans communicated. Then it finally answered.