Chapter 37 About Time
"The parameters have been corrected."
The researcher, specially sent from the city by Company W, gestured to his subordinates that everything was normal.
For the researcher's safety, the company also provided two fully staffed cleaning teams to accompany him. The researcher had no idea how Lobotomy Corporation obtained the supervisor's exact coordinates.
However, having worked as a Wing employee for so many years, he already knew the principle that the less you know, the safer you are, so he simply adjusted the parameters according to the coordinates as usual.
"Team leader, the reverse space teleportation has been set up."
His assistant looked at his boss, awaiting his instructions, while his boss looked at the department head of Lobotomy Corporation. The gray-haired man nodded, and then pressed the start button.
The device set up in the courtyard, which utilized space expansion technology, emitted a tremendous hum of electricity, and a shimmering blue light began to rotate continuously, slowly opening a dimensional rift.
What the researchers at W Company didn't know was that their spatial tear was just the trigger; the main cause was Angela's attraction of "light" within Lobotomy Corporation's underground facility.
Albert Camus's appearance changed to that of a twenty-five or twenty-six-year-old man in just one day. Carrying his small suitcase, he boarded the famous luxury train, the Orient Express, along with a humanoid superpower and two undocumented immigrants.
Because he had given prior notice, there were very few passengers on the train this time; almost all of them were "staff members" accompanying the train. Due to the unusual feeling he had about the young man in the cloak, the staff members this time were all temporary agents or similar personnel.
The scenery outside the window kept changing, and as time passed, it gradually darkened until we entered the countryside and were completely plunged into darkness.
Everything was going according to his plan. He observed Meursault with great interest, noting that he was quite different from usual. His emotional fluctuations were more intense than before, as if he were a completely different person.
Until… one of the two train attendants chatting idly in the dining car suddenly asked:
"Why haven't we arrived in Lausanne yet?"
The young man subconsciously took out his pocket watch to check the time, but was surprised to find that the hour hand was pointing to IX. They had finished dinner at 9:30, so it couldn't possibly be just 9 p.m.
Camus looked at his reflection in the glass. He was still so young, just like when he first boarded the train. Clearly, his own supernatural ability, like the time here, had undergone some unexpected change.
He looked at the black-haired youth sitting opposite him, who still had his eyes closed and seemed to be thinking about something. He then looked out the window, but it was still pitch black.
Under the warm yellow light inside the carriage, the darkness outside the window seemed even deeper, but upon closer inspection, no scenery could be seen; there was only emptiness.
Originally, his superpower, the myth of Sisyphus, was almost running 24/7, creating a disordered special radiation field around him, in which time would lose control, become disordered and cycle repeatedly.
However, the superpower that was operating like breathing stopped silently on its own. Camus subconsciously activated his superpower and expanded the range of the radiation field.
The young man, who had been keeping his eyes downcast, seemed to sense something and slowly raised his eyelashes, looking at Albert Camus with his pale gold eyes.
"What are you doing?"
X subconsciously thought that the End Bird or White Night had appeared. He wasn't actually very sensitive to time; a day in the company might even be equivalent to tens or hundreds of years of standard time. However, because of a certain white-eyed tomoe spirit, he couldn't stand time being out of his control.
Yes, it's you, the one who watches over the White Night, the ruler of time, like a ghost.
As the young man's gaze wandered, the golden-red eye on his finger began to roll around in dissatisfaction, and the strange sound it made attracted the attention of the people sitting in the dining car.
Don Quixote was already used to the voice, after all, she was responsible for keeping an eye on the movements of the aliens after the black-haired youth fell asleep, but the voice was still too abrupt and frightening for the Transcendent and the agents who heard it for the first time, as if some monster was hiding under the cloak.
This is definitely not a sound that a human could make; it is a sticky, rubbing sound that causes physiological discomfort.
The moment the sound rang out, the golden-eyed youth lowered his eyes again, and the sound disappeared, as if the sound and his golden eyes had been an illusion.
When Camus heard the sound, he was prepared to expand the range of his supernatural power to the entire carriage. If the young man made any further unusual moves, he would immediately activate the ability to pull everyone in the carriage into an endless loop.
The dining car was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In this deathly silence, Camus did not answer the young man's question, nor did the young man explain the source of the sound.
On the train, where the passage of time is imperceptible, the train conductor remains silent, and perhaps, the silence will continue indefinitely.
However, the train, which had been running smoothly, began to tilt slowly, and the white porcelain teacups that were originally placed on the table slid to the ground one after another, shattering into pieces.
X was unmoved by the sound of the shattering porcelain, because Piercing Paradise was still constricting him, as if venting its dissatisfaction with him looking away earlier. Before he could even clean up the shards, the train began to rush diagonally downwards, and Don Quixote, sitting next to him, was caught off guard and thrown to the other side of the carriage.
The black-haired youth instinctively tried to grab the table, but it turned out he had overestimated himself; he was just a true office worker who couldn't even beat the office staff in the company.
Just as he was about to follow in Don Quixote's footsteps, the Piercing Paradise used its temporarily extended, nerve-like tentacles to hook onto the car window and pull him back, preventing him from falling out.
Camus floated quietly in his original spot, watching the slender, dark red branches emerge from X's white cloak, the patterns on which were surprisingly alive.
In the midst of the chaos, X naturally had no chance to keep an eye on this WAW-class anomaly, and Camus thus clearly saw the full picture of this living "pattern".
This is a dark red, tree-like creature with slender branches bearing golden-red eyes. Above the largest eyeball is a brain of the same color. Since the youth could not keep his eyes on it, the anomaly left a part of itself to hold the youth back in his seat and prevent him from falling, while the rest of its wings spread out in all directions, attempting to string together "fruits".
Accompanied by the sound of being torn apart and pierced, miniature trees that had somehow grown from the bottom of the carriage strung together one "fruit" after another. Even more horrifying was that although the "fruits" were clearly decapitated, the individual heads could still emit screams.
Help! He can't twist it!
The poor supervisor, who wanted to take charge of the suppression, was tied to his seat by the anomaly he was supposed to suppress. Although this would prevent him from falling, the problem was that he couldn't see what was happening over there!
The supervisor, who could only discern the situation through sound, suddenly felt that something was wrong. How could the screams have lasted for so long?
The Piercing Paradise strings the fruit separately, not all at once. When people are hung up, they are already separated. So what's with all those screams? This isn't the Warp Train.
The supernatural energy field surrounding the French Transcendent protected him from being strung together like those poor souls. He also sensed something was wrong. Why were the individual heads screaming? Especially since these people's spirits were still the same as before, there was no illusion that they were monsters disguised as humans and still alive.
As expected? Time and space here are disordered, which allows people to remain in their initial state. In other words, no one in this carriage will truly die.
Even the girl brought by X was dazed and confused after being strung up, looking at her hands and feet hanging up with a curious expression.
"Don Quixote? Meursault? Is anyone still able to move?"
"Sir, I've been hung up!"
"Manager, this place is similar to the Warp Train."
Meursault's voice was as calm as ever. Seeing a glimmer of hope, the supervisor asked:
Meursault, are you alright?
"I was hung up too."
Oh, you're quite calm. Do you still have any capable people left?
"Mr. X, do you know what's going on here?"
Camus floated to the side of the black-haired youth who was bound to his seat by red tentacles on the left and right. His brain was right next to the youth, but he seemed not to see it at all, paying no attention to it whatsoever.
The young man who heard his voice interrupted him as if he had found a savior.
"Mr. Camus, is your supernatural ability mental?"
The Frenchman's expression suddenly turned serious: "What do you want to know?"
"You can try using your powers to attack the monster in Piercing Paradise. Use your powers, not physical attacks."
While they were outwitting the piercing amusement park, the technicians from Company W were sweating profusely as they watched the machine screaming its alarm.
"That shouldn't be the case!"
Suddenly, he realized something and asked the head of the records department, who was waiting nearby, with a serious expression, "Your manager doesn't happen to be carrying any gadgets made by Company T, does he?"
In a time-transcending world, anything related to time is fatal to the passageway.
"Impossible, the teacher doesn't have any props related to Company T on him."
Dazai Osamu, who had been doing odd jobs for Benjamin, asked, "Minister, could it be that there's a time-manipulation ability user among the supervisor's staff?"
"Superpowered individuals? Is that some new technology developed by Company T?" The down-to-earth tech researcher from the city kept adjusting the parameters while trying to figure out what was disrupting his plans.
The gray-haired man then dialed the company's internal line, asking Angela to call Cervantes over. Currently, the supervisor's signal was still originating in Europe, and considering Dazai's supposed supernatural abilities, calling him was the most appropriate option.
The Spanish youths who were urgently summoned listened to their descriptions and were completely baffled. It had been a long time since Europe had had any particularly famous time-related ability users...?
wrong!
"I know a senior figure who went missing, a time-manipulation ability user from France. He's been missing for so long that he's been registered as dead. He was a time-manipulation ability user."
"But he disappeared forty years ago? I think it was around that time."
The red-haired youth stroked his chin, recalling the events and speaking somewhat uncertainly.
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