“Is it really because of what I created…?”

As unbelievable as it seemed, the idea that some other villain or external factor had suddenly taken control of Flower’s mind at this exact moment was far less realistic. I couldn’t just keep deflecting blame onto others whenever things went wrong.

Statistics also showed that more often than not, problems I encountered were repercussions of things I’d done myself, snowballing back to me. Call it the butterfly effect. I never expected that forgotten creation—the one I’d discarded because the results were hard to discern—would come back to haunt me like this…

“Dr. Eight? Is something wrong?”

“Oh—No, it’s just…”

Auxilion, as perceptive as one would expect of an ancient elf, seemed to have noticed my slight anxiety. Her questioning gaze suggested she’d detected the faint unease in my expression.

Seeing no point in denying it, I told her my suspicion: that Flower’s current state might indeed be a result of one of my inventions.

“Hmm… Is that so? Since you made it, you must know how to deal with it, right?”

“To be honest—I’m not certain. I predicted some possible outcomes, but I haven’t actually seen it in action…”

Predicting the performance of something I’d never witnessed was difficult, but I recalled the specs I had envisioned before creating it.

“The extra-dimensional ghost…or rather, the Beast is something I modeled after creatures I’ve encountered in this world. Demons, outer gods, dimension guardians…”

“What? What exactly did you meet?”

“Demons, outer gods, and…”

“No, no, no—” Auxilion waved her hands emphatically, letting out a hollow laugh.

“Demons and outer gods… Do those even exist?”

“Oh… You don’t know?”

Ah, so she doesn’t know…

It makes sense. Since I fell into this world, I’d lived a rather extreme life. Sure, she’s lived far longer than I have—decades, maybe even centuries more—but…

Just as a medieval peasant wouldn’t see more in a lifetime than a young person in the modern world, the length of time doesn’t guarantee the breadth of experience.

“Anyway, I created it by combining their traits, so… if I think about it roughly—”

It comes into existence if someone believes it exists. It continues to exist even if no one believes in it. It appears when certain rules are broken.

These characteristics—of demons, outer gods, and guardians—were combined. So, it’s a creature born from someone merely suspecting its existence, one that endures even without belief and emerges on its own when certain conditions are met.

But since I don’t know what those conditions are, and because Flower’s observation triggered the Beast’s appearance, I have no idea how to eliminate it. And, of course, this is all just my hypothesis.

“So, in theory, that’s how it could be. It might be even more monstrous than that, or maybe not.”

“Wait. So, you’re saying it’s a monster that springs into existence just by being acknowledged, persists even without belief, and spawns itself whenever specific conditions are met, regardless of anyone knowing it exists?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“What exactly did you create…?”

Auxilion looked at me with a wary gaze, but I simply shrugged. Such beings were hardly rare on Earth. They’re so common you could say they pop up when kids try out YouTube videos at home…

You’d think a world of dragons, elves, and World Trees would be used to this kind of thing, but apparently not.

“Well, it’s not certain, and it’s only a possibility. If it is such a monster, even I would have a hard time figuring out how to destroy it.”

“Your words make it sound like you have a way.”

“Professional habit. The scientist’s reflex.”

Scientists are trained to anticipate the worst-case scenario in any research and, if they can’t prevent it, to label the work as too dangerous.

Of course, I was aware of the risks in my research. I hadn’t tested it, but I assumed I’d figure out a solution if things went wrong.

“So, what’s the problem?”

“…The problem is that all of this is just my speculation—it might not be accurate.”

One of the ingredients used in creating the Beast was pure chaos energy. That is, the kind known as dark energy. This means that, no matter how well-designed it is, uncontrollable variables inevitably arise.

Depending on the extent to which those variables influenced the Beast’s creation, for better or worse, my efforts at preparation might be of little help.

“So, what can we do?”

“To prepare for the worst-case scenario—so that even if the Beast becomes immortal and undying, we have options.”

I thought of a few eco-friendly weapons I used to rely on back on Earth. Impossible to deploy in this world, but worth considering in an emergency.

I truly didn’t want to use them, but if the situation called for it…

“We’ll prepare thoroughly.”

There’s no choice.

Even if federal agents showed up afterward, this would surely be excusable.

With a loud rustle, the World Tree exploded into life, swallowing the ancient tree as it grew, scattering roots and branches like banners announcing its birth. Just as a whip cracking through the air reaches supersonic speed, the World Tree’s growth easily surpassed the speed of sound.

As its supersonic branches sliced through the air, people screamed, as if in the midst of a natural disaster.

“What is that!?” “It’s a crazy tree! A crazy tree is coming this way!” “Get out of the way!”

Even a small piece of lead reaching supersonic speeds can become a lethal weapon, so what would happen if a tree, thousands of times heavier and larger than a bullet, began moving at such speed?

People covered their ears against the deafening noise, loud enough to cause permanent hearing damage. Even a warzone wouldn’t be this loud.

“Hey, you! What are you doing?! Are you insane!?”

“…?”

While everyone else was fleeing from the World Tree, a woman with green hair calmly walked toward it. A man nearby quickly ran to her, grabbing her wrist and pulling.

“Run! Do you want to die? Just brushing against that could kill you!”

“…”

“Hurry up—”

“Grrr!”

But in the next moment, as the man yanked her wrist with enough force to hurt, the Beast snarled and tore him apart.

There was no way a newborn Beast would comprehend human decency. Following only its primal instincts, the monster ripped the man apart, then, as if curiously examining the blood on its arm, began to lick it, like a cat grooming itself.

The Beast licked the blood off its arm, then, satisfied, turned back toward the World Tree. There it was, the most vibrant life force in the area, calling to her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Grrr?”

“Using Flower’s body so arrogantly is something I won’t allow.”

The Beast tilted its head, eyeing the bandage-wrapped figure blocking its path. It was indeed the man it had crushed just moments ago. The remaining scent on him was unmistakable.

What puzzled it was not that he was still alive despite the wounds that should have been fatal, but that he had returned to confront her without hesitation.

“Grr…?”

“Oh, you seem to remember me.”

“Grrr-!”

But that was it.

Despite his miraculous survival and foolish approach, neither his courage nor his actions managed to pique her curiosity. For the Beast, an insubstantial curiosity couldn’t override its primal hunger for the World Tree’s overflowing life force. Even a cat playing with a mouse wouldn’t choose it over a delicious fish.

Ignoring Bandaged Man, the Beast turned its back on him.

“As I thought. Just a beast.”

But he’d anticipated this.

Bandaged Man—Stale—began to unravel the bandages tightly wrapped around his body.

Under the scorching sunlight, his exposed skin began to sizzle as ultraviolet rays burned his flesh. The sounds and smell of cooking flesh filled the air.

Normally, pain and the inevitable side effects would prevent such actions. But Stale was different now.

Having been promised unlimited life force and the freedom of his beloved by the scientist, he was a man who had resolved to sacrifice his own body to halt the Beast’s advance.

Becoming a living flame, he stood in the Beast’s way.

Not even pain more horrific than death itself could deter him.