Infinite Dendrogram_Volume 2

by Sakon Kaidou

  “Okay,” I nodded.

  And so, myself and this dark red silhouette that seemed to be able to read my mind had a little information exchange.

  “W h e r e i s t h e b o y g o i n g?” asked the entity.

  “The venue where my brother’s having a tournament match,” I answered. “This is when, uh...”

  Of course, I knew exactly where I was heading, what was supposed to take place there... and what would actually happen.

  “This is when he participated in Un-kra’s U-17 tournament.”

  “U n - k r a?” The dark red entity questioningly tilted its head, but now it was my turn to ask a question.

  “Tell me,” I spoke up. “If this is a dream, then what’s happening to me? I’m quite sure I was in the middle of fighting Gouz-Maise. Did I get the death penalty?”

  That seemed unlikely, since it seemed like I was still in the game.

  “A l i v e . . . F a i n t e d.”

  So I’m unconscious, huh? I thought. ...Wait, doesn’t that mean that I’m open to getting hit by a finishing blow at any moment?

  “W h a t ’ s U n - k r a?”

  “A death match-type martial arts tournament with no weight limit, no style limit, no rules besides the use of weapons and threats, and no end without KOs and give ups — Unlimited Pankration. Also known as ‘Un-kra.’”

  It was a popular tournament that had begun — if I recalled correctly — in 2027. With it allowing karate, judo, boxing, kickboxing, sumo, wrestling, Muay Thai, capoeira, koryu, and countless other styles, it seemed like an event from some fighting manga. The level of violence earned it lots of criticism, but it continued to be popular regardless.

  “. . .” The silhouette looked somewhat excited.

  Does it like martial arts? I asked myself. Or death matches?

  “My turn to ask,” I said. “How do you not know what Un-kra is if — as you said yourself — you’re the one replaying this scene?”

  Nemesis had had some of my memories since the moment she was created, so I found it weird that this entity didn’t.

  “O n l y . . . r e p l a y i n g . . . n e c e s s a r y . . . m e m o r i e s.”

  So it’s replaying only the memories deemed necessary, huh? I thought. But man, if it can scan my memories, yet isn’t an Embryo... just what is it? I guess I could ask it directly...

  “W h a t w i l l h a p p e n n o w . . . ?”

  I’d expect someone replaying the scene to know that much, I thought.

  “Keep watching and you’ll see in a few minutes,” I said. “Now, my question: have we met before?”

  “Y e s,” it replied. “H e r e , w e a r e a l w a y s t o g e t h e r . . .”

  “What...?” I said, baffled.

  “Here,” as in, within Infinite Dendrogram? But the only person I’m always together with in this world is Nemesis.

  “B o y i s a l o n e , n o t d a n g e r o u s . . . ?” the silhouette asked while pointing at young me.

  “The security system observing public roads was already there ten years ago, so no, I wasn’t in danger of getting kidnapped or anything,” I said.

  I had trouble remembering when the security guard machines had become widespread. I had a feeling they’d already been there by the time I was born.

  “S t i l l , a c h i l d b y h i mself . . . ?”

  “It might’ve been my summer holiday, but it was still a normal weekday for adults, so yeah. ...Wait, wasn’t that a second question?”

  “Ask t w ice , t o o , Ray.” Though its words were still monotonous, it was gradually getting better at talking.

  “How can I regain consciousness?” I asked.

  “Wake u p w h e n f i nished w a t ching.”

  “Finished watching what?” I asked.

  “Your b i r t h.”

  M-My birth...?

  “Watch why y o u beca m e t h e Ray y o u a r e.”

  “...I see,” I said.

  The reason why I turned out to be the way I am, huh? Seeing the events that are about to transpire will be more than enough to know that.

  “Won’t be long now.” Saying that, I pointed at young me, who was walking before us.

  He was already near the venue and only needed to walk through a pedestrian crossing to get to the entrance. As eight-year-old me waited for the traffic light to change, there was an even younger girl standing right next to him. She had a childish accessory in her hair, but due to the poor way she’d put it on, it flew off the moment a stronger gust of wind went by. It fell on the road.

  The light was still green for traffic, and when the girl tried to go and take her accessory, she didn’t notice the truck headed right for her. A few moments before it could hit her, the young me ran in, took her hand, and tried pulling her off the road. However, he was too slow and weak.

  At eight years old, he was far too powerless to take her to safety before the truck hit them both. As a result, all young me did back then was simply increase the number of victims. And so, the truck was about to run over two children.

  However, a moment later, a person who’d come over from the other side of the road took them both and jumped out of the way.

  Normally, that person wouldn’t have made it. In fact, normally that person wouldn’t have made it even if he’d come over the moment the girl ran out to the road. However, the feat was perfectly possible for this person. Due to his astounding leg strength, he’d closed the distance in but a moment and swiftly taken the girl by the hand.

  However, there was also me — who was nothing but a burden at this point. Due to me jumping out to the road, the person needed to take both of us. And though he was capable of jumping while holding two children, it — naturally — slowed him down.

  I remembered it clearly. After a moment of being airborne, there was another impact. Then — while still being held — I rolled on the ground.

  Even so, I didn’t feel any pain. The person holding us did a great job protecting us. I could hear some people nearby start to scream. I, on the other hand, was at a loss for words.

  That was only natural. After all — the one who’d saved us was my brother.

  Knowing I was coming, he’d walked out to meet up with me. And it just so happened that he’d saw us in great peril and saved us. He’d paid a price for that — his right leg was hit by the truck. With how blue-black and swollen it was, you didn’t need to be an expert to know that it was broken.

  Shu was about to participate in the final match of the tournament. However, right before it happened, his leg got shattered...

  ...and it was all because of me trying to save the girl while being completely powerless to do so.

  Chapter Six: Beyond the Radix Point

  At a certain place in the City of Duels, Gideon.

  “Heyoo! Haven’t seen you fur a while, Figgy.”

  “Oh? I know that voice, but not the face. A new costume, Shu?”

  “You assume correctly. This is an MVP special reward called ‘Hind Bear.’”

  “...Another costume, I see.”

  “Yeah, it’s another costume. Got a problem with that?”

  “How many do you have by now?”

  “Sorry, but that’s not something I bear in mind. All I know is that I only have one that isn’t a costume.”

  “...I see there’s a bit of a bias.”

  “Every special reward besides the thing I got from Gloria is a costume! This makes bearly any sense!”

  “It’s quite unusual to be able to defeat so many UBMs, though.”

  “Sorry, but those words have bearly any weight when said by you, of all people.”

  “You’re probably right. Oh, it just hit me... You’ve worn bear costumes since that time, right?”

  “‘That time,’ as in...?”

  “The time we met.”

  “Oh yeah, I was beary ursine back then, too. Though that one was store-bought.”

  “It was also the first time we fought UBMs, right?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah. That takes me back.”

  “We sure had a hard time handling them.”

  “It happened when Infinite Dendrogram had only been out for only ten or so days, right? Our levels were still pretty low.”

  “Yep, that sounds about right.”

  “I’m still impressed that we were able to win... To be honest, looking back at it, it’s actually beary weird that we did.”

  “But you didn’t show any signs of giving up back then, right?”

  “Ha ha ha! As if I would. Like I said back then: ‘The possibility is always...’”

  ◇◇◇

  Paladin Ray Starling, within a dream of the past

  On that summer day of 2035, my brother had gotten into an accident while protecting us. His life hadn’t been in danger. However, his right leg — hit by the truck — had been seriously injured. The flesh was swollen, the blood vessels under the skin had burst, and the bone was broken. In a game, healing magic or items would’ve made short work of such a wound, but in reality, it was a grave injury that would need quite a while to be fixed.

  It was bad enough for him to be hospitalized. And the tournament’s final match was supposed to happen about an hour after he’d received it.

  “Nothing t h a t cou l d be done?” asked the entity.

  “Indeed,” I nodded. “It was hopeless for him.”

  ...If reason had its say, anyway, I thought.

  I could see the passersby begin to surround us and make a stir. Some were panicking, others were calling ambulances, while some journalist-looking sorts who were focusing on my brother as a fighter in the final match called out to him with a “Mr. Mukudori!”

  Standing next to my brother — who was lying on the ground — was young me and the girl, both crying. The girl was probably crying because of the fear of being involved in such an accident, while I was crying due to the fact that Shu had gotten injured because of me.

  I could clearly remember the things I’d thought back then. It could be summed up as guilt about what I’d done to him mixed with begging someone to help him.

  In response to all the sympathetic looks and my sentiment, my brother — still on the ground — looked at young me for a moment and...

  “Owie!”

  ...jumped up after saying that in a tone one would use when accidentally hitting their head on a ceiling frame.

  Everyone was dumbfounded.

  The young me, the girl, and the passersby all looked at him with eyes open wide with shock. To add to that — even the silhouette right next to me seemed surprised.

  “Well, darn... This sure looks broken,” he said as he looked down on his broken right leg while standing on his healthy left. Yet again, his tone was unfitting, making him sound like he’d broken a piece of a plastic model rather than his limb. And no, it wasn’t “better than it looked” — his leg was severely injured.

  “That r e a ction is s t range.” The silhouette made a comment.

  “Well, it’s him we’re talking about, so yeah.” I was used to seeing my brother act and talk like that by now. But the young me still hadn’t had much exposure to his eccentricity at that point in time, so he was reasonably shocked.

  “I-I just called an ambulance! It should be here soon! Please don’t move too much!” one of the passersby told my brother.

  However, in response, Shu said, “Eh? Oh... Well, thank you for the concern. But there’s no need for that right now.”

  “‘No need’?” a number of people simultaneously repeated his words in disbelief.

  “I have a final match to participate in over at that building, so I’ll go to the hospital after that’s done,” he said.

  The moment he’d said that, I’d felt as though time had stopped.

  It seemed like I and everyone else on the scene — except for my brother — was thinking exactly the same thing: What is this guy saying?

  From its reaction, it was safe to assume that the silhouette shared the sentiment.

  ◇

  The place of the dream changed, and we were now in Shu’s waiting room.

  Moments before this scene, this place had included doctor who’d given my brother some first aid and the master from his dojo who’d tagged along to see the fight, but they were no longer here. The only ones present now were me and Shu.

  His right leg was covered in a compress and bandaged. But that was all. There was no cast or any kind of support on it. After all, Shu was about to go fight in the match. He’d refused casts and supports because they would’ve been counted as weaponry. The injury was bad enough to need an operation, and yet...

  “. . . H e w ill fight?” asked the entity.

  “Yeah,” I nodded.

  Due to the lack of expression on the silhouette, it was hard to tell what it was thinking, but even I could tell that it was half amazed and half shocked. “No one s t o ps him?”

  “In a normal martial arts tournament, the fight would’ve been called off due to doctor’s orders, but this is Un-kra we’re talking about.”

  Again, Un-kra allowed anything besides the use of weaponry and threats, and would only end with KOs and give-ups. It was actually strange that such a tournament could exist in this day and age.

  “But it’s b roken,” the silhouette protested. “He ca n win? Doesn’t nee d right l eg?”

  “The koryu martial arts dojo my brother went to is based around blows, rather than throws and such,” I answered. “Naturally, kicks are a crucial part of it, and proper leg control while punching is highly important, as well.”

  Now that I think about it, that style is ridiculously manga-like, I thought. Seriously, during the demonstrations I saw, their kicks were breaking logs as thick as people’s torsos. What was the name of that kick, again? All I can remember is that it sounded pretty cool.

  “Is h i s opponent w eak?” asked the entity.

  “The opponent in the final match was Gregory Asimov Kaiser,” I said. “He was nearly two meters tall and weighed over a hundred kilos, most of which was well-trained muscle. Being well-versed in blows, holds, throws, and locks, he was easily the strongest student participant at that time. He’s now doing his best to be the top professional martial artist.”

  “Student... c h ild... child?”

  “He was seventeen at that time, which is underage, so yeah.” Also, even after ten years had passed, Gregory was still a well-known face in the end-of-year martial arts shows. Last New Year’s Eve — when my brother had returned home for the occasion — I could recall us both watching TV and seeing Gregory still doing his thing.

  “Brot her can’ t wi n, n o?”

  “He would’ve had little chance even if he was in top form, and yet he went in with a broken leg,” I said. “It’s only reasonable that people tried to stop him.”

  Not like he listened, I thought. Now that I think about it, the master from his dojo was one of the few who didn’t try to make him reconsider.

  “Shu, don’t! If you fight someone so strong with that wound, you’ll die!” The young me was still trying to get him to withdraw from the match.

  That was only natural. After all, when Shu had gotten injured because of me, I’d been overwhelmed by great fear. And yet, despite his state, he was about to go on and do something reckless, if not downright crazy. My fear back then hadn’t allowed me to stay silent and let him do it.

  “Well, I guess doing the Kodachi with my leg like this isn’t the best idea,” said Shu, completely nonchalant.

  Oh, yeah, I thought. That’s what the kick from his school is called.

  “Kodachi,” the wood-splitter or “battle ax,” was a frontwards roundhouse kick aimed at the opponent’s head. My brother was particularly good at it. The kick which — as the name implied — was strong enough to split wood and seemed capable of doing the same to people’s heads was feared as much as Gregory.

  However, with his right leg broken, my brother couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t do it with his left leg, either, since he would
’ve had to use his right as the pivot leg. Shu was going to have to fight without his ultimate kick.

  That meant only one thing — he had no chance of winning.

  He’d gotten the wound because of me. And since it was going to be the reason for his defeat — or perhaps even death — I couldn’t stop blaming myself. Thus, I was trying to stop him.

  However, Shu showed no sign of changing his mind. He was always like that. Though facetious and eccentric, my brother wasn’t one to easily let go of something he’d resolved to do.

  Once the young me came to understand that trying to convince him was useless, he bowed his head in sadness.

  “I shouldn’t have jumped out to the road...” he muttered to himself.

  “Hmm.” Hearing that, Shu thought about something, leaned over to the young me, placed his hands on his shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. “Honestly, Reiji... I think you would’ve regretted it more if you hadn’t tried to save her.”

  “B-But you’re the one who actually saved her!” the young me protested. “I couldn’t do it by myself! All I did was get you hurt!” The young me wept about his powerlessness. All he felt was regret, grief, and anger at himself.

  “You’re right. I got hurt.” Shu agreed with me. “But you know, it’s entirely possible that I wouldn’t have saved her if you hadn’t tried it.”

  “Eh?” That surprised the young me.

  “Because you tried to save the girl, I — without thinking — jumped out to save both of you,” he explained. “In the end, she was saved because of your choice.”

  That might’ve been the truth, or just a lie to make me feel better. However, there was sincerity in his eyes.

  “That’s good enough, Reiji,” he said. “There’s no need to regret the act of choosing something. After all, it’s the ultimate premise to grabbing hold of the possibility leading to the future you desire.”

  He added a lot of emphasis to the words that followed.

  “After choosing something, all that matters is whether you can see it or not and grab hold of it or not.”

  “Grab hold of it or not?” the young me asked.

  “Yeah. The possibility is always...”

  These words of his...