The Evil Scientist is Too Competent-Chapter 203: Who I am (3)

A multitude of artificial satellites and space debris drifted through Terra’s orbital path. Bound by gravity, they endlessly circled the planet—never escaping, never breaking free.

From an energy conservation standpoint, this was the most rational approach. Rather than keeping a single satellite in a fixed orbit, it was far more cost-effective to launch multiple satellites, ensuring that at least one would always be in the desired position.

However, there were exceptions. One such exception was the New Washington, a warship of the Earth Federation.

"Thanks, Arima. I know you're busy."

"Nah, I wanted to observe this ship a little longer anyway."

Terra’s orbit. Among the many objects stationed there, the New Washington had stubbornly anchored itself in place, perpetually floating above E City. Arima had taken this precaution out of concern that the ship might get lost amid the tens of thousands of satellites.

Considering that no technology on Terra was capable of communicating with the New Washington, it was theoretically possible for it to become lost. Of course, that would never actually happen.

"What’s your plan for today?"

"I need this ship for something."

"World domination?"

"Nothing so trivial... I just want to know about my past."

"Hmm? What, like digging through old social media?"

"Something like that."

With a dry chuckle, I made my way to the ship’s central control room. During my previous visit, the AI that had maintained the ship for over a hundred million years had broken down, causing the ship’s engine to shut off. Needless to say, no machine could function without a power source.

And since I needed to access certain functions, the ship’s engine had to be restarted. So I had spent countless sleepless nights in the lab, constructing a new AI to replace the old one. Of course, compared to the original AI, which had been designed for warfare, my version was a pitiful imitation. But I had no intention of replicating that level of performance anyway.

All I needed was for the engine to start.

[─Boot sequence complete. Welcome, User.]

"Engine status?"

[Current Black Hole Engine output: 0.3%. Estimated time to full operational capacity: 13 days.]

"Start it up."

[Yes, My Lord.]

Vwoooong—!

The deep hum of the Black Hole Engine, the pinnacle of Earth’s technology, reverberated through the ship. It was a ludicrous machine that absorbed dark energy from the universe in real-time and converted it into power. Even activating it took considerable time.

Once I confirmed that the ship was functioning properly, I quietly left the central control room and made my way to the crew quarters.

A private cabin for crew members—one I had stumbled upon while exploring.

Perhaps for the sake of their psychological well-being, the room had something that shouldn't exist on a spaceship: a window. Well, strictly speaking, it wasn’t a real window but a high-resolution display streaming the outside view in real-time via external cameras.

‘...It really does look alike.’

Looking down at the blue planet beneath my feet, I let out a bitter smile. From this vantage point, Terra bore a striking resemblance to Earth. It felt as if I could sense the intentions of the Earthlings who had created this world.

What had they been thinking when they built this planet? They had crafted a world they would never set foot on—one they were better off avoiding. And on its surface, they had sown the seeds of something that only resembled humanity.

What were they hoping to achieve—?

"I’ll find out soon enough."

Thirteen days from now.

After that, everything would be revealed.

I leaned my forehead against the window, gazing at the stars thousands of kilometers away.

And in the vast distance, the mother that bore billions of lives gazed back at me.

****

Time shot past like an arrow. The two weeks it took for the engine to activate were gone in the blink of an eye. Eight still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that the moment to face his true identity had arrived.

As soon as he returned to his lab on Terra, Eight sat before his terminal, absently fiddling with it as he hesitated.

All he had to do was press this button.

With a single press, the New Washington’s advanced computer would analyze every atom on this planet and reassemble them. He would finally uncover the truth of the past—what had really happened millions of years ago.

‘...Just press it. Just press it—’

Everything would be resolved. All of Eight’s doubts, all of his uncertainties.

Yet, despite all his past advice to others to act rationally, when it came to his own dilemma, he found himself unable to follow his own words. That was just human nature—a species defined by its hypocrisy.

As he groaned in frustration, locked in a silent battle with the device before him, someone casually strolled into his lab.

"Oh? Eight! When did you get back?"

It was Vira.

She waltzed into the lab wearing nothing but a sleeveless top, perfectly suited for the gradually warming weather. With her skin fully exposed, she had no concern for how much of herself was visible to Eight as she flopped onto the sofa.

Her small but well-shaped chest was pressed into the couch’s cushions as she sprawled out, lazily turning her head to look at Eight.

"So? What’s up?"

"...Nothing. More importantly, why are you here?"

"Well, you’ve been gone for days. Everyone figured you ran off to cause another disaster or something, so they just left the lab empty."

So, in other words, this was now my secret base—Vira grinned mischievously as she said it. Looking at her, one might assume she had never once struggled with deep worries.

But just last year, she had been nothing more than a human cocoon—limbless and trapped.

Her current appearance was something she had earned after enduring unimaginable suffering. Of course, she might still carry burdens that no one else could see... but at the very least, she never let them show.

I really am pathetic compared to her—Eight muttered to himself with a bitter smile.

"Vira, I have something to ask you."

"What is it? Ask ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ me anything. Even my three sizes or my ideal type. Oh, and by the way, while you were gone, Aile’s boobs got even—"

"—How did you endure losing your limbs?"

"...Oh. A serious question?"

Vira bounced up from the couch with ease, switching to a sitting position as she faced him directly.

She had sensed his troubled expression from the start, but for him to ask something like this—it must have been something truly serious.

So even a genius capable of freely replacing limbs and wielding technology powerful enough to conquer the world had problems he couldn’t solve, huh?

"I’m not great at this sort of thing... but fine. This big sis will hear you out."

Gesturing for him to spill everything, Vira waited as Eight finally voiced his concerns.

He confessed everything—how this entire planet, and even all of humanity, had been artificially created by Earthlings. How, by extension, he too might be an artificial construct.

Hearing this, Vira only tilted her head in confusion, as if wondering what the big deal was.

"So what if you were made? Honestly, I don’t care. We’re all made, aren’t we? Our parents had sex and made us."

"...Maybe you don’t feel the weight of it, but it’s different for me. It’s like... being trapped in The Truman Show."

"The Truman Show?"

Eight described the story of someone who had lived their entire life in a fabricated world—a world where their family, friends, lovers, even their job and food, had all been preordained in a massive set.

Vira let out an impressed whistle. "Huh, so something like that exists, huh?"

This was the root of Eight’s fear.

If he truly was an artificial creation, then what about his love for science? The nostalgia he felt for his professors, his old friends, his parents? What if all of it was nothing more than data, flicking between ones and zeros?

Would he still be able to remain himself? Or would he spiral into despair, abandoning his emotions and transforming into a soulless machine that only churned out cold, merciless science?

"Well, I sorta get what you’re worrying about. Can’t say I relate, though. It’s totally different from my own problems, but..."

Vira trailed off, then grinned and walked into the experiment chamber at the back of the lab.

A moment later, she returned carrying several bottles of alcohol—ones that Eight had never seen before.

So she really had been using the lab as her personal hideout.

As Eight let out a dry chuckle, Vira casually pulled out two glasses and shoved one into his hand.

"When I hit rock bottom, I just got shitfaced and passed out. Most problems disappear that way."

"...That’s the kind of thing only a total degenerate would say."

"So what? I was literally a human cocoon, remember? If I’m a degenerate, then I’m an angel compared to what I used to be."

Pop—!

The cork came off, and the liquor flowed freely into the glasses.

Beaming, Vira clinked her glass against his.

Staring at the drink for a moment, Eight thought that, just this once, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

"Cheers—!"

"...Cheers."

As their glasses clinked together, Eight felt the alcohol seeping into his stomach, numbing his thoughts.

With nothing in his mind, his brain shut down, drowning in intoxication like a leaf drifting down a river.

Just like that...

****

"...Wow."

The next morning.

Vira woke up and let out a stunned groan.

She slowly lifted the blanket covering her and Eight.

After a brief pause, realization hit her.

"...Oh, fuck."

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