Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter: 168. Frozen Gear (3)

After that, my shock continued to intensify.

A big mosquito flying in the空中.

It was indeed a machine.

Attached to a broken syringe at the back, it had a body made of small gears, sucking the oil from other machines.

If it understood soaking its body with that oil, I could at least comprehend it, but the broken syringe couldn’t hold any oil, simply dripping down onto the ground.

The creature sucking up the oil was similar. At first glance, it looked like a rabbit, but with a speaker on its ears, a small voice came from the speaker saying, “I will inform you of the current time. The current time is 49 hours and 732 minutes.” There was no way that could be a rabbit.

And that rabbit-shaped clock was munching on the twisted gears I encountered when I first arrived on the island.

Clack. Clack.

Making metallic sounds continuously.

Then, the flying syringe was swallowed.

By a strange metallic bird with a drill-like rotating beak.

The creature that was spreading oil on the ground became metal powder, scattered on the ground, and vanished into the metal weeds.

What on earth is this?

As that thought crossed my mind, I felt my mood sour.

To be honest, it wasn’t the first time I was seeing such an absurd scene.

I had seen numerous scenes where senses and reality mismatched and common sense didn’t apply.

A hole-filled Otherworld.

Reality affected by Otherworld Invasion.

It wasn’t so much a bad feeling, but rather the fear of my known reality being trampled upon.

Like a mismatched film, the fear that different movies were being forced together to become reality.

However, this small island unfolding before my eyes was different.

On the surface, it completely matched our world.

The laws of physics probably matched ours as well.

The birds eating insects.

The rabbits.

The plants nourishing themselves on the crumbs of meals.

All were natural parts of our world’s日本.

However, the entities making it up were things I didn’t recognize.

Things that hold no value. Machines that evoke a sense of unease.

Even just looking at them made me feel worse as they robbed our reality of its meaning.

That fact was utterly disgusting. It’s not Otherworld Invasion, but rather our world.

“…Isn’t this Otherworld Invasion?”

A machine that I couldn’t even figure out how it operated?

“Yes, we can create the same without the power of the Otherworld, purely with our technology,” said the Librarian, catching a butterfly that flew in front of them.

“Look here. The small round metal attached to this ship is a battery. Using that energy, the wings function as magnets to allow it to fly. Hmm, that was a bit vague. I suppose it would be accurate to say that it levitates through magnetism.”

The Librarian, holding the butterfly wing, started passionately explaining one detail after another.

The joints of the butterfly.

The operation of its sensory organs.

How it moves, even.

“Oh, but there’s one thing I’m unsure of. It’s the method of behavior. Though the form is different and the way it moves differs, its actions are just like those of a naturally existing butterfly. Our technology cannot implement that.”

Did they conclude the explanation like that?

The Librarian released the butterfly they were holding.

Then, as if it had completely forgotten it was just trapped, it flew past me.

With a conspicuous pattern of yellow and black.

I waved my hand toward it.

The slow butterfly showed no reaction and crumbled in my grasp.

When I released my grip again, only a useless metal fragment remained in my hand.

“That can’t be a butterfly.”

I scattered the metal pieces on the ground.

Just like that metallic bird from earlier.

I returned the lifeless machine to where it belonged.

What’s a butterfly?

Upon hearing my words, the Librarian, who had been ahead searching for a path, responded.

Butterfly.

I mentioned it, but I couldn’t exactly define a butterfly either.

Though I remained silent on that, the Librarian continued to move forward without saying a word.

As if waiting for my answer.

Although they didn’t directly express it, their back seemed to convey such a message.

So, I forced myself to squeeze out some words.

“Umm. An insect with two wings, spreading pollen, and sucking nectar?”

“Haha. I think even elementary school students would answer that better.”

My answer seemed quite satisfactory to the Librarian.

A hint of laughter entered their voice.

Of course, aside from the Librarian being satisfied, I felt frustrated, as my response had become a laughingstock.

Who cares! If I asked what a butterfly was, an elementary school kid would probably just flap their arms!

“So, what do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“About butterflies. I answered, so you have to say something too.”

Let’s see what kind of answer comes out.

If it’s a boring answer, I’d roll around on this hard metal plate while laughing.

“That’s interesting. So, a butterfly…”

Even though they had asked first, the Librarian seemed to have no prepared answer.

They quietly closed their mouth, and the gears squeaked.

Squeak. Squeak.

Usually, it would be a bothersome sound, but on this island, it was different.

The sound of gears and sparks. The sound of refrigerant flowing and the rotation of coolers was surprisingly natural.

On the contrary, the sound of my heart racing felt absurd on this island.

How long had I been walking amidst the dissonant metallic symphony?

“A butterfly would be something that considers itself a butterfly, wouldn’t it?”

Finally, the Librarian spoke.

“That’s ridiculous.”

And with that answer, I reflexively opened my mouth.

It was so absurd.

However, thinking about how I evaluated an answer my friend had pondered made me feel guilty, so I chewed that statement over once more.

“Hmm. It’s still ridiculous, isn’t it?”

I could only spit out the same answer again.

“Why do you think that?”

Even in response to my outburst, the Librarian gently questioned me.

Like a teacher instructing a child.

“Why? How would a butterfly recognize itself as a butterfly? With that tiny brain?”

Could a butterfly truly recognize itself as a butterfly?

Does it have the capacity, with that little head, to comprehend what it is?

We too undergo countless trial and errors.

“It’s not that strange, is it? We too have had our experiences where we lose ourselves. Yet we still proclaim ourselves as human.”

Yeah, I’ve been through a lot of crap.

Attacked mentally, enduring Otherworld Invasion, and falling into the Otherworld.

But there’s one critical difference.

“Humans are that smart, and butterflies are not.”

I don’t know much about biology, but even if you swapped consciousness between two butterflies magically, they likely wouldn’t realize they’ve changed.

“That’s also our arrogance, isn’t it? Our intellectual level is not infinite, nor is our perception. Perhaps we might overlook something. Those butterflies might.”

The Librarian grinned, belittling themselves—or rather, humanity.

Why are they acting that way today?

They seem so different than usual.

“Is that scientifically validated?”

“Of course not. If it’s about dogs, maybe, but insects have a too different structure from us, so it’s still a tough field.”

“Then it’s not your area of expertise. Don’t start acting like a humanities major and just speak on what you know—what’s been revealed. Philosophy is just fine with Calraver.”

What is death?

What is a human?

Are we alive?

I’m sick of it.

And let’s just settle one thing. That butterfly was a metal machine, not a living creature.

I stretched out my arm and pulled off a nearby piece of wood.

In doing so, countless mechanical parts revealed themselves.

Twisted gears.

Leaking lubricants.

Steam pouring out.

“Look. This messed-up machine. Can this really be called a living thing?”

Obsessing over the statement of it being a butterfly, it felt like my words had gotten too tangled.

Let’s return to the basics.

“Earlier it was metal. What we see as a butterfly is a living thing. Simple, right?”

I’d wrap up my argument with that.

What was it again? Q.Q.Q?

That doesn’t sound right.

QCQ? Wait, isn’t that close combat?

Huh? Was it supposed to start with C?

Ugh 0 0 Ugh9

I wanted to end it, but with my meager knowledge, I couldn’t conclude and groaned.

The Librarian’s counterattack began.

“Then am I a living creature or a machine?”

They turned their body, taking a step back.

Looking at me, they gave a sly grin and spoke.

Hey. That’s cheating.

“Didn’t you take debate classes when you were young? Didn’t they tell you not to derail the discussion with stuff like that?”

Of course, I didn’t, so I can do it.

But you can’t, you Western dude.

“I didn’t have any debate class when I was young, but I did learn how to throw punches at conferences,” they said, throwing a jab into the空中.

Their footwork was a mess as they stepped back, but considering they were from the research field, I’ll give them credit. That jab definitely had power behind it.

…What the hell was the debate hall like in the Association?

For a moment, my thoughts drifted in an unusual direction, but I quickly snapped back to reality.

Hmm. Is the Librarian a machine or a living being?

Most of their body is machine?

Their heart was changed to an engine a long time ago, and their eyes and nose are also machine parts.

Didn’t they say their lungs became mechanical recently too?

So, half or more of what’s needed to sustain life is machines?

Uh… then if the organs aren’t important, is it the brain?

What the hell is happening?

As I thought that, I stared at the Librarian’s blonde hair intently.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just curious. I want to see what you think if I unscrew your head.”

“I doubt you could read my thoughts just by looking at my head.”

That’s true.

First, I can’t do anything about it.

“Seeing you being so sarcastic, you must be alive. Alright, I admit it. That thing earlier? Let’s just say it’s a butterfly, dammit.

You cheat, using your cheat key to win the debate.

Aren’t you ashamed of carrying the title of a scholar?”

“So, I win then. Should I give that butterfly a scientific name?”

How about Pieris mobis?

A non-biologist acting out of line.

And even if I did, I probably wouldn’t get it recognized.

Hmm. Let’s skip that. Let’s move on to another topic.

“Actually, I’ll acknowledge that thing earlier as a butterfly, but I can’t accept the rest.”

“What are you talking about?”

What else?

“If a butterfly believes it’s a butterfly, then it’s a butterfly. The question is whether a butterfly has the intelligence to recognize itself.”

Butterflies aren’t that smart.

Earlier, you suggested there was something beyond our human intellect.

Even including Otherworlds, generally, intelligence and sensory abilities are higher in the larger creatures.

Though there are some like the oxymoron’s nurse, where you can’t tell what’s sensory or neural.

“It’s not something we can prove because we don’t know…”

“Then it’s a no-go. If that’s the case, I also have a pet transparent tentacle monster at home that uses a breastplate. Technically, it could be a butterfly, but your proof falls flat. OK? Dr. Amerigan? If you don’t like it, you can prove that the butterfly has unknown attributes we don’t know of.”

Alright. Let’s keep this debate going.

Let’s clear away the metallic noise that fills this island with our voices.

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