Chapter 6: Anonymous Consultation – “I am torn on whether or not I should destroy humanity.”

The next morning.

The Adventurer’s Guild before opening hours was, as expected, quiet. As if the bloodbath from up until yesterday were a lie, there wasn’t a single sound of a chair being pulled back in the spacious hall.

Amidst that silence, I rested my elbows on the counter and engaged in a staring contest with a single piece of letter paper.

I am torn on whether or not I should destroy humanity.

No matter how many times I reread it, that’s what it said.

The handwriting was masterful. The characters were strangely neat, and the paper was of high quality. There was no ink smudging, and the text itself was even terribly polite. That was exactly why the sheer dangerousness of the content stood out so much.

“…The scale is massive.”

The worries that reach a consultation counter usually have a bit more of a tangible feel to them. Like not being able to sleep. Or not getting along with party members. Or not knowing one’s own worth.

Being torn on whether to destroy humanity is quite an original scale for a consultation.

“Why the long face so early in the morning?”

The Guild Master, who had just clocked in, peeked over my shoulder and read the letter.

“…What’s this?”

“An anonymous consultation.”

“Consultation?”

“It was in the suggestion box.”

“Haha, it’s just another bad prank, right?”

The Guild Master laughed in amusement.

“Even a drunk adventurer wouldn’t easily say something like ‘destroy humanity.’ Just crumple it up and throw it away.”

“Normally, one would do that, yes.”

“Are you going to give it an abnormal response, then?”

“Well… I am a counselor, after all.”

Though I haven’t had much confidence in that lately.

The Master let out a hearty laugh as he retreated to his office in the back.

True, the possibility of it being a prank is high. In fact, it’s probably ninety-nine point nine percent certain.

But the experiences from my past life were quietly sounding an alarm.

When people are truly backed into a corner, they sometimes write strangely calm text. Sometimes they ask for help in a way that sounds like a joke. And sometimes, the more a person possesses the “power to actually do it,” the strangely more polite they become right before execution.

That’s why I, at least, didn’t want to ignore it.

“…If it’s a prank, that’s fine.”

If nothing happens, that is obviously for the best.

But, if they are serious. Saying “It was a weird letter, so I threw it away” in that scenario is the absolute worst outcome for a consultation counter.

I took out a fresh piece of parchment and grabbed my pen.

No matter who the sender was. Be it an adventurer, a noble, some eccentric with too much free time, or perhaps something that truly could destroy humanity.

If a consultation had arrived, there was only one thing to say in return.

— First, let’s sort things out.

With the expression of someone drafting a perfectly normal business document, I began to write my reply.

＊　＊　＊

After opening hours began.

I posted the reply I had written next to the suggestion box — right below the “Mental Health Consultation Counter (Provisional)” wooden sign.

Since it was from an anonymous sender, there was no way to hand it to them directly. Therefore, it had to be a public reply.

The text went like this:

Thank you for your consultation. I understand that you are struggling with an extremely large-scale decision: the destruction of humanity.

However, before making an irreversible judgment, let us first sort out the reasons.

What is your reason for wanting to destroy them? Is it anger, disappointment, loneliness, or perhaps a sense of duty?

If possible, please list about three reasons in bullet points and drop them into the box again. Impulsive decisions often lead to regret.

…Yeah. I was dead serious when writing the content, but reading it back objectively, it’s pretty weird.

Whatever. With these kinds of things, it’s important to keep a straight face.

“Nagi.”

I heard a familiar, slightly strained voice. Turning around, I saw Fran walking toward me, her dark navy robe fluttering.

Her posture was excellent again today. Her hair was neat, and her expression looked calmer than yesterday. However, the more perfect a person seems, the less they can hide the traces of overexertion up close. The faint shadows under her eyes told the story of her sleeping situation last night directly enough.

“Good morning, Fran.”

“Yes. …More importantly, what is this?”

She stopped her eyes on the reply posted next to me and read it aloud.

“‘To the person torn on whether to destroy humanity’…?”

“It’s a reply to an anonymous consultation.”

“Did you write this seriously?”

“I’m dead serious.”

Fran fell silent for a moment. Then she followed the rest of the text with her eyes.

“‘Please list about three reasons in bullet points and drop them into the box again’…”

Finishing reading, she looked at me.

“It is a prank, no matter how you look at it.”

“That may be so.”

“Then isn’t it rational to ignore it?”

“If it’s a prank, that’s the end of it. But if it’s someone genuinely struggling, it’s better to have a reply.”

“…”

Fran returned her eyes to the parchment once more without changing her expression.

“First, you do not deny the abnormality of the other party’s claim.”

“Yes.”

“On top of that, you demand the ‘verbalization of reasons’ prior to execution.”

“Yeah.”

“You are dragging an emotional outburst back into the arena of logic.”

I blinked slightly.

“…Well, as a result, yes.”

“I knew it.”

Fran made a strangely satisfied face.

“You do not break your pace no matter the opponent. Even for a ridiculous consultation like ‘wanting to destroy humanity,’ you dispassionately follow the proper steps.”

“Well, this is a consultation counter.”

“That very attitude is what’s abnormal. Normally, one would laugh, get angry, or turn them away.”

“It would be a problem if they actually destroyed humanity after I turned them away, wouldn’t it?”

“That line of thought is terrifying.”

But, Fran continued.

“I don’t hate it, that way of doing things.”

“Thank you.”

“…As I thought, you are necessary for me.”

She smoothly drops something so heavy.

“You’ve only admitted to a lack of sleep once — you don’t need to rush to a conclusion like that.”

“No. If anything, my conviction has deepened.”

Her logical speed is way too fast…

Fran relaxed her lips just the slightest bit. Compared to her first day, she was showing much softer expressions.

That in itself wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad, but the problem was that I could already feel the direction of that softness pointed way too much toward me.

“So, how are things today?”

I changed the subject.

“Were you able to rest a little more than yesterday?”

“…My ability to fall asleep was terrible, but it wasn’t as bad as yesterday.”

“That’s a step forward.”

“You turn everything into a step forward, don’t you.”

“Because in reality, things aren’t just zero or a hundred.”

“…I’m still not used to that way of thinking.”

Fran let out a small sigh.

“But, compared to yesterday, I was able to think that ‘even at eighty percent, I won’t die’.”

“That is plenty of progress.”

“If you say so, then it must be true.”

That way of phrasing it is also heavy, you know…

“…Then, it’s my turn next, right?”

Smoothly, a silver head appeared from the counter’s blind spot.

“Whoa!”

“Lise.”

“I’m here.”

Not “I’m here.” Since when?

It was only natural for Fran and me to be surprised. It seemed Lise had been crouching on the floor right beside my counter, erasing her presence.

What a waste of an A-Rank swordswoman.

“Please don’t sit on the floor.”

“Sorry.”

“And please don’t erase your presence either. It’s bad for my heart.”

“I’ll be careful next time.”

“Having a ‘next time’ is also a problem, though.”

Lise stood up obediently. Meanwhile, Fran was blatantly furrowing her brows.

“…Eavesdropping?”

“I was just waiting.”

“It is functionally the same thing.”

“Fran is always nitpicking.”

“You are far too sloppy.”

“Alright, stop.”

It looked like they were going to ignite again, so I cut them off early.

“Right now, it’s Lise’s turn.”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“You don’t look like you are.”

“Lise.”

“Sorry.”

I wonder how many times she’s said “sorry” just today.

I turned to face Lise.

“So, you had something you were thinking about, right?”

“Yeah.”

Lise put on a slightly serious face. Compared to yesterday, there was definitely more composure in her expression. The color of near-crushing despair was much fainter than when she first arrived.

“I was thinking about it the whole time yesterday.”

“Yes.”

“When I’m with people, everyone pushes themselves too hard and gets hurt.”

“…”

“But, Nagi said it’s not just ‘because I’m weak’, right?”

“Yeah. I said not to shoulder everything on your own.”

“Yeah.”

Lise gave a small nod.

“So, I came to a conclusion.”

“That’s good. Let me hear it.”

I felt a tiny bit of hope.

Like talking it over with her party members. Or reviewing how to handle unreasonable requests. Or carefully choosing who to team up with, instead of just defaulting to going solo.

If it was in that direction, it would be plenty positive.

But the conclusion that came out of Lise’s mouth vaulted beautifully right over my expectations.

“I’m never going to form a party with anyone ever again.”

“…Come again?”

“Because if I just don’t get involved with other people, nobody will have to push themselves too hard.”

“That’s…”

“As long as I’m flying solo, at the very least, I won’t drag someone else down and break them, right?”

Lise said this with a remarkably radiant face.

“Don’t you think it’s a perfect solution?”

No. That is not a solution.

I clutched my head internally.

She took a step out of the quagmire of self-denial. But in exchange, she leaped straight to the extreme avoidance of “if I don’t get involved, I won’t get hurt.”

Isolation is not recovery. It’s just locking yourself in a different prison.

“Lise, that’s a bit extreme.”

“It’s not extreme.”

“Will you really find peace by not partying up with anyone, and not getting deeply involved with anyone?”

“I will.”

An immediate answer.

“Because I have Nagi.”

Something cold ran down my spine.

“…Eh?”

“I don’t need anyone else.”

Lise took one step closer to me.

“I don’t need friends. I don’t need a party. I’ll do requests alone.”

“Lise.”

“When I come back, I’ll come to Nagi’s place.”

“That’s…”

“Because only Nagi isn’t afraid of me.”

Her silver eyes pierced straight through me.

“Only Nagi told me you wouldn’t abandon me.”

“…”

“So, I’ll only listen to what Nagi says. I’ll become Nagi’s sword and no one else’s.”

Heavy.

It’s too much of an emotional fastball. And what’s worse, she has a face that says she genuinely thinks this is a “positive conclusion.”

I sensed Fran taking a small breath behind me. Even to someone like her, who arms herself with logic, Lise’s single-mindedness apparently looked incredibly dangerous.

“Lise.”

I chose my words as carefully as possible.

“Cutting off all other human relationships and narrowing it down to only me is wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re just concentrating your dependency onto a single point.”

“…Dependency?”

At that word, Lise furrowed her brows just a little. It was the face of someone who didn’t fully understand the meaning.

“What you need is not a ‘state where you only have me’.”

“But, if I have Nagi…”

“Even if you think so right now, that isn’t recovery.”

“…”

Lise fell silent. It wasn’t that she agreed. Rather, it was the face of someone saying “I wanted you to understand, but you stopped me.”

And with that same face, she tilted her head to the side.

“…Hey, Nagi.”

“Yes.”

“I’m a good girl, right?”

A shiver ran through me.

Her smile was innocent. Too innocent, and that was exactly why it was dangerous.

She wants to be praised. She wants to be recognized. She wants her existence validated by just one person.

Those emotions were pointed entirely my way in a form that was far too direct.

The anonymous client torn on whether or not to destroy humanity is a handful too, but…

The A-Rank swordswoman smiling right in front of me and saying “I only need Nagi” looks like she could quite beautifully destroy my daily life if I take even a single wrong step.