Ch.117117. Choice.

# 117.

I stared blankly at the bookshelf while clutching a difficult book to my chest.

Hundreds of massive bookshelves, each capable of holding thousands of books. How many of these could I actually read and understand? And how many would I need to read?

I hadn’t felt this overwhelmed since I was first thrown into this world with nothing to my name.

My body was free, and I had many choices available to me. Yet ironically, I couldn’t do anything.

“…Come to think of it, what exact knowledge are you hoping to gain through me?”

The circumstances of humanity’s extinction and how to escape it?

I already showed that at the photo studio. I showed when and how the world ended, yet they brought me back here, which meant that wasn’t enough. They wanted something more from me.

Were they expecting me to acquire all the knowledge of my era, including time and space?

Whatever it was, I likely wouldn’t need to read every book in this library—or absorb all the knowledge contained within them.

What people truly needed wasn’t the manufacturing methods for countless existing machines, but rather the principles and methods behind creating those machines.

…The problem was that I couldn’t distinguish between them. What knowledge would help past humanity, and what knowledge would be less helpful?

If I could at least make that distinction, I could gain momentum, but even that was impossible for me right now.

With so many books available, it was embarrassing that I couldn’t confidently pick up even one.

“…What do you think?”

“Mori. I’m a Maintenance Robot, just as you said.”

“And?”

“That means I don’t possess this kind of knowledge, and even if I recorded it in my memory, I couldn’t understand or utilize it. What does any of this mean?”

“Sigh.”

It seemed the robot wouldn’t be much help. It had seemed impressive for a while, but between its behavior earlier and now, it felt like it had returned to normal.

“Let’s just try reading something.”

Right. If it’s for humanity, I should be the one to do it.

Though I might not understand now, if I just start studying blindly, something might eventually sink in.

With the mindset that I wouldn’t know until I tried, I placed the book I was holding on the desk and began reading page by page.

“—Despite many efforts, humanity sadly went extinct together in harmony. The end!”

And so the world ended.

It ended because I, the only one who could transmit knowledge, was too stupid.

I couldn’t even understand a function made of two coordinates.

How was I supposed to handle 3D functions and spacetime events?

There was a hologram device that could display shapes moving like waves across various coordinate axes in three dimensions.

Black lines were lines, and filled areas were shapes.

“I thought that since it was written by someone like me, if I persevered and kept reading, at least a little bit would sink in.”

Knowledge in one field is interconnected with others, so I believed that if I endured the difficulty and read line by line, enlightenment would come.

But just as someone who doesn’t know the alphabet can’t read an English novel no matter how much time they spend, I only ended up with tired eyes and a worsening headache.

My motivation dropping as I wondered if I could really do this was just the cherry on top.

“Maybe the person who wrote this book and I are different species. Like how dogs and wolves are both canines but completely different, maybe our brains and thought processes are fundamentally different…”

[Don’t give up!]

[But I don’t understand any of this.]

[Is there anyone who can understand this right now?]

[Maybe aliens wrote these books]

I closed the book and slumped over the desk. I thought I could do anything for humanity, but that was just my arrogance.

“It would’ve been much easier to survive in a snow-covered city with nothing but my bare hands.”

The only consolation was that others seemed to be just as clueless as I was.

Seeing everyone repeating that they didn’t understand anything, as if we’d all become children, was somewhat comforting.

“Hmm… let’s start with the basics.”

After succumbing to drowsiness and headache, I woke up from a brief nap at the desk, wiped away my drool, and closed the book.

I realized that stubbornly clinging to difficult books wouldn’t solve anything—it would be faster to learn properly from the beginning.

“Fortunately, there are basic textbooks. I wonder if they were placed here for me…?”

As I wandered around, I discovered a bookshelf with introductory texts on specific theories—textbooks suitable for elementary or middle school students.

No matter how times change, the formulas in mathematics and science remain constant, and because they’re constant, they’re truths.

That’s why the foundations of disciplines that approach truth don’t change. Even if the amount of accumulated information increases, expanding what’s included in those foundations, they’ve left a path for learning step by step.

Since I hadn’t properly attended school and had lived a life far removed from academics, understanding even these basic textbooks wasn’t entirely easy.

But if I focused on each concept one by one, I could at least nod along in understanding.

I began studying belatedly. There was no one making noise, and the only sounds were pages turning and pen scratching against paper.

To avoid feeling the loneliness that came with silence, I had to keep my hands moving and turn pages faster.

If I stopped even for a moment and lost focus, I’d be consumed by silence and start wandering—but that same environment allowed me to deeply immerse myself in each word and sentence.

In this environment, better for studying than any other, I read books like a madman.

One, two. Pages that turned slowly eventually became one book, then two.

An ordinary human can’t instantly absorb knowledge that countless people accumulated over hundreds or thousands of years, but fortunately, I had the perseverance and time to repeat until it entered my head.

I looked at the letters, engraved them in my mind, and copied them by hand. When I encountered something I didn’t understand, I went back and repeated until I understood.

If that wasn’t enough, I reopened books I’d already read—or found new ones and studied from the beginning. And then I’d encounter something else I didn’t understand.

There was no time to rest. My head felt like it would explode, and I felt like I was going crazy. It felt like endlessly repeating a tutorial in a game. My lips were constantly parched.

Even when I couldn’t understand no matter how much I looked, I didn’t put the book down—I’d bang my head on the desk in frustration or bite my nails until they were ragged. It was painful, but I couldn’t let go.

This was all I had left after my will to live had dimmed from achieving all the goals I couldn’t previously accomplish.

I wandered this world witnessing countless deaths, and in the end, I witnessed how the world perished.

The brilliant civilization of humanity collapsed pathetically, submerged under water—it was nothing short of despair.

Yet they say that if I make an effort, I can prevent humanity from following the same path. They say I can prevent wars, disasters, deaths, sorrows, and despair.

It’s a wonderful story.

…But my life won’t change even if I prevent all that.

Even if the future of past humanity changes, I’m already standing at the end of the future from their perspective, at the end of the world.

If anything, accepting that was nothing but painful for me.

—But I chose to save people.

It was entirely my own choice, independent of others’ expectations and beliefs.

I know how terrible it is to live in despair.

Even if it’s someone other than me, even if I can’t be saved, I didn’t want to leave others to fall into deep despair.

The responsibility stemming from that choice was suffocatingly heavy.

But it became the reason I needed to stay alive and the only value in my life after I had lost everything.

But what if I gave up here?

Then I would truly have nothing left.

For a life that has lost all motivation, value, happiness, goals, and responsibility, only death remains.

I’m not afraid of death at this point.

To be honest, I’m ready to die at any time, both materially and psychologically.

Eating delicious food, sleeping in warm places, and having fun in this wonderful place—

While I enjoy those things when I experience them, I wouldn’t miss them if I couldn’t have them anymore.

—Because being alone never changes.

Now that I’ve confirmed I’ll be alone until the very end, I have no lingering attachments.

But there are so many people who believe in and expect things from me.

In this situation where there’s still something I can do, I didn’t want to irresponsibly run away just because it was painful and difficult.

Even if they live in a world I can never reach, even if we’ll part ways when all this is over.

I wanted to wish happiness for those who had made me happy, if only for a while, as we talked, laughed, and chatted together.

If I had to express this feeling in one word, it would be “humanity.”

I burn myself for those dear to me and leave my existence in many people’s memories.

And so, after completing everything I need to do, I close my eyes watching others move toward a different future.

For someone like me, who almost died miserably without accomplishing anything in a world where no one remembers, that was enough.

Even if no matter how much I struggle, everything disappears, all meaning scatters, and nothing remains.

Every choice humans make in this world has its own value.

And even in a life full of despair, moments of happiness can be found.

Even if that happiness is fleeting, if I find value in the life I’ve chosen.

I think that’s a beautifully human life.

No matter how painful and meaningless the world may be.

That’s no reason to give up on the happiness that living beings can enjoy.

I was human.

And because I was human, I chose to live for humanity.

So I decided to move forward, even if with slow steps.