315 Return Home, Hope

The reincarnated ones are in a state of uproar due to the oversized bomb dropped by the Vampire Child.

Everyone is restless—so much so that even the Vampire Child's threats have no effect.

The possibility of returning to Earth was undoubtedly shocking.

But unfortunately, it is not possible.

Indeed, I once asked the Vampire Child whether returning to Earth was an option.

But that was a matter discussed only after everything had concluded.

A matter for after the system's collapse.

Not a possibility within the current system's stability.

The reincarnated cannot return to Earth.

Because of the skill: n% I = W.

This skill, once a mystery, functions to bind the reincarnated to the world's system.

The reincarnated were never originally inhabitants of this planet.

The deceased, normally unaffected by the unique system of this planet, should have returned to the standard cycle of reincarnation.

Their soul was forcibly inserted into the system, granting them a second life.

This is the reincarnated.

And the skill that binds the reincarnated soul to the system is n%I = W.

Because of this skill, the reincarnated, though outsiders, may receive benefits from the system—skills, status, and so on.

Simultaneously, this skill also prevents full integration into the system.

When the reincarnated die, unlike the original inhabitants of this planet, they do not return to the standard cycle.

Full integration with the system would trap them in an endless cycle of reincarnation on this planet—a perpetual hell.

The n% I = W skill is designed to grant reincarnates benefits from the system while preventing full integration—ensuring they are not consumed entirely.

Reincarnates are, at best, temporary guests within the system and this world.

Indeed, for reincarnates, the n% I = W skill is of paramount importance. Yet in this case, it becomes an obstacle.

The skill is intrinsically tied to the soul.

Among all skills, the n% I = W skill is particularly firmly anchored within the soul.

And furthermore, the n% I = W skill serves as a bridge between the reincarnate and the system.

Thus, it maintains a connection to the system.

This connection cannot be severed.

Therefore, it is impossible to remove the reincarnate from this world, where the system exists.

Should the system collapse, such constraints would vanish.

Therefore, as a matter of post-conclusion discussion, I asked the Vampire Child and Oni-kun whether they wished to return to Earth.

The Vampire Child interpreted this expansively, apparently misunderstanding it as meaning they could return immediately.

In truth, I am no longer under the influence of the skill, so travel between Earth and this world is possible.

But that is only feasible because I lack the skill. To remove a reincarnate, either the system must collapse, or the reincarnate must lose their skill in the same manner as I have.

A skill to remove skills does exist.

The method of offering up the skill's power.

Yet when Natsume-kun had his skill stripped by the teacher using this method, the skill n%I=W remained.

That alone indicates n%I=W's significance and its resistance to separation.

After all, the terminal exists to transmit system influence. It is impossible to detach it from within using the system's own power.

Then the only way to sever it would be to become divine—like me.

What, that’s impossible.

Can’t do it.

So, can I separate the n%I = W using my own power? No way.

It’s a creation of that D, after all.

I’m no match for something like that.

Soul manipulation requires extraordinarily advanced technology.

A novice god with barely a decade of divine experience? Not possible.

Reaching for it recklessly feels like it’d just end up annihilating the soul itself. Terrifying.

Conclusion: Returning is impossible.

But how do I explain that?

Ah, right, I don’t need to go into technical details. Just saying “impossible” should be enough.

Still, Mr. Kudo and several other reincarnates are looking at me with intense expectation.

I can’t just say “impossible” in this atmosphere.

“Can you really return?”

Mr. Kudo’s eyes glisten, as if overwhelmed.

Ah…

Wow…

Yeah, well, if you still have attachments to Earth, it’s natural you’d want to return.

For them, confined to the elven village for so long, longing for home after such hardship isn’t surprising.

Think about my feelings too—this atmosphere demands I reject it!

Damn it!

Vampire Child!

You just had to drop that bombshell!

The Vampire Child and Oni-kun notice my hesitation first.

The Vampire Child tilts her head, “Ah?” Oni-kun glances at me, eyes darting.

Both sense my subtle unease. They’ve realized I can’t do it.

From their reactions, the other reincarnates slowly begin to notice something’s off.

A shock of hope, gradually eroding into unease.

Kudou, who had been most overt in his joy, now stares at me with desperate eyes, as if clinging to a lifeline.

Ah.

The Vampire Child really did drop an unnecessary bomb.

Because if I hadn’t given them hope of returning from the start, they never would have thought of it.

No hope to begin with means no disappointment later.

It’s only because they developed false hope that the disappointment becomes greater when they realize it was an illusion.

“Impossible.”

I forced the words out, resolute.

An unnameable stillness followed immediately.

Before the Vampire Child could speak, I activated my curse to forcibly freeze him mid-sentence.

Probably something like, “Wait—didn’t you say we could go back before?”—but I don’t want any more unnecessary words.

Indeed, returning after system collapse is not impossible.

But I have no intention of overseeing events beyond the system's collapse.

The contract with D does not extend that far.

Moreover, whether I can manage it after system collapse is not guaranteed.

I previously suggested such an arrangement because, with only the Vampire Child and Oni-kun, prearrangement might suffice.

But there is neither time nor energy to prepare for every reincarnated soul.

Only two or three might be possible.

If I were to admit this bluntly now?

A争夺 over seats is inevitable.

If returning everyone is impossible, it is better to leave everyone behind.

At least then, there would be no conflict over seat争夺, no resentment from inequality.

A silence so sharp it aches.

Within it, Mr. Kudo sat back down abruptly.

Not so much sat down as collapsed onto the chair, as if the chair had simply been there to catch him when his strength gave out.

His expression—drained, utterly lifeless.

He said nothing. Lowered his head.

Others around Kudo also wore faces unable to hide their disappointment.

Sorry.

I gave you false hope.

Even the Vampire Child, usually unbothered, looked uncomfortable in the atmosphere.

Seeing that, I removed the curse I had placed on the Vampire Child.

"Let's end it here for today."

I stood up.

The atmosphere no longer permitted further explanation.

The reincarnated would need time to reflect.

I hurried toward the exit, escaping the frozen silence.

Oni-kun and the Vampire Child followed closely behind, hurriedly.

No one attempted to stop us as we prepared to leave. We exited the treehouse.

The closing door separated us from the reincarnated.