Chapter 101 - The 80% Side
I will treat Philia.
It was something I had never even considered.
Because I had a preconceived notion that magic could not heal the mind, there was a part of me that had given up on that path from the very beginning.
But, now that she mentioned it, her opinion was quite reasonable.
"When you say treat her, do you mean at a hospital after all?"
"I think that would be best."
However, Philia's social standing was that of an undocumented foreigner.
Well, Angelica was in the same boat, but in any case, visiting a medical institution would be difficult.
Insurance wouldn't cover it, and if a suspicious doctor reported us, it would become a real headache.
If the identification papers I asked Gondo for arrived, Angelica would be fine, but if I were to request them for Philia now, when would they arrive?
...Should I just ask Gondo to introduce me to a back-alley doctor instead?
I get the feeling that doctors under the influence of the Yakuza specialize in physical trauma.
I wonder where on earth one would find a medical professional who specializes in mental counseling and doesn't care if the patient has a criminal record.
"...A doctor, huh. I'll think about it."
"Since you're going to be seeing a doctor too, Nakamoto-san, it has to be a good one."
"Me?"
Ayako-chan nodded with a "yes."
Wasn't she inadvertently saying something quite terrible?
"...Do I look like I'm acting strange or something?"
"Quite a bit."
I nearly bit back the words, I really don't want to hear that from you of all people, and continued the conversation.
As one becomes an adult, one becomes more patient.
Especially when the opponent is a young girl; even a significant verbal jab can be forgiven with a "she's cute, so it's fine."
Because of my age, I was even losing the energy to get angry.
And then there's Fatherhood. Or, for some people, ulterior motives.
It was a form of indulgence mixed with such not-so-good reasons, but I suspect that these worldly-ignorant girls mistake it for tolerance and end up being deceived by old men.
"Was my behavior really strange enough to require treatment...?"
"You're normal while you're awake, but you're terrible when you're sleeping."
"...Come to think of it, I am frequently having nightmares, aren't I?"
"You are."
She nodded, saying it made her worried to watch.
By the way, Ayako-chan was still holding Philia in a bear hug.
I was impressed by how skillful she was, bringing up such a serious topic while maintaining that posture.
"Besides."
Suddenly, Ayako-chan released one hand from Philia.
Then, she briskly raised her free right hand.
Reflexively, I felt my own body twitch.
"Nakamoto-san, you flinch whenever someone raises their arm, don't you?"
"Ah—it's just a habit, don't mind it."
In the other world, if a creature with arms made such a gesture, it meant they were either going to throw a dagger or blast you with magic, so my body likely braced itself automatically.
"...You know that my father is a university professor, right?"
"Yeah. That old man who looks exactly like me, right?"
"My father said it. He said you can tell immediately if a student was raised being hit by their parents. Apparently, if you move your hand above their head by accident, their body stiffens for a moment."
"...I don't recall receiving much corporal punishment from my parents, though."
"That was in the other world, wasn't it?"
Perhaps Angelica had told her various things without my knowledge.
About the half-life of the Hero Keisuke Nakamoto. About the process of how an ordinary junior high school boy became the protagonist of a battlefield.
"I think..."
"What is it?"
Perhaps to focus on the conversation, Ayako-chan had stopped pinning Philia down.
Of course, Philia was not one to miss such an opportunity; she leaped with movements reminiscent of a feline and clung to Angelica.
"I think Nakamoto-san might have PTSD."
"I feel like I've heard that somewhere."
"If you say it without abbreviating, it's Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."
"...Is that it? The thing that was a problem among Vietnam War veterans."
"In our generation, the image is that it was a problem during the Iraq War."
I thought, A generation gap in a place like this— but I might be slightly off.
Since I had already been in the other world by the time the Iraq War started, it was only natural that I couldn't recall it immediately.
If you aren't listening to the news in real-time, this is what happens.
In fact, I remember being surprised when I looked up modern history after returning to Japan and realized they had fought some massive wars.
"How should I put it... hearing terms like PTSD and the Iraq War coming from the mouth of a high school girl creates a huge sense of incongruity."
"...It's somewhat related to my father's field of expertise. I used to sneak into his room to try and collect his hair or read his books, so I have a little bit of knowledge."
"You're even interested in fallen hair? Don't tell me you've been collecting mine too?"
"That was a tangent. Since it seems Nakamoto-san wants to hear the rest, I'll get back to the main point: my father researches Artificial Intelligence."
"I don't want to hear the rest. I'm extremely curious about the hair collection matter."
She pierced me with her jet-black eyes.
They were completely the eyes of a hunter. I was pathetic prey. I thought I was going to die right here.
"...I only fall in love with one man at a time... On the very day I met Nakamoto-san, I disposed of all the hair I had collected from my father until then. Now, I am only interested in Nakamoto-san. ...Is that enough? Please don't make me say embarrassing things."
"...I-is that so. Being declared that to my face makes me blush... Hm? No, that's not it at all. That's not what I wanted to know. I meant that if you were picking up my hair too, it would be scary."
"My father told me why a massive need for Artificial Intelligence research has arisen."
It was no use.
I gave up, realizing this girl had no intention of talking no matter what.
"Lately, it's become trendy to use unmanned weapons and let AI handle the combat, hasn't it? He told me why it became that way."
"...Isn't that to reduce casualties for one's own army? So that no one dies."
"That is part of it, but as I said before, PTSD is a major factor. Do you know, Nakamoto-san? Up until the time of World War II, the firing rate of soldiers was only twenty percent. Only twenty percent. When American military personnel investigated firearms from various countries, regardless of whether they were Allies or Axis, eighty percent of the guns had never been fired even once."
"...Was the accuracy of guns low in the past?"
"That's not it. ...They couldn't shoot. Ordinary people cannot kill others. Even in a situation on the battlefield where you have to act first or be killed yourself, eighty percent of people hesitated to fire at the enemy soldiers."
But she says, I think this is a good thing.
"Avoiding killing one's own kind is wisdom possessed by all living creatures. It seems humans are unexpectedly made to be merciful. Even toward a hated enemy soldier, it's quite difficult to kill them."
"That's different from the World War II I know."
"...Isn't that just because it's more convenient to advertise that your own country's soldiers fought bravely, or to advertise that the enemy's soldiers behaved cruelly, rather than depicting a chaotic struggle to the death?"
"...That really doesn't sound like something a high school girl would say, once again..."
But it wasn't as if I had no idea what she meant.
During my time in the other world, I saw conscripted farmers being driven into wars against demi-humans, but most of them were useless.
"Until just seventy years ago, only the twenty percent of people who were born without resistance to killing were fighting seriously. The remaining eighty percent of peaceful people were likely just shouting and waving weapons around, getting through it haphazardly. ...This is the original, natural struggle of humanity. That's why PTSD didn't occur very often in the past."
"Is it different now?"
"It's completely different. Training methods have improved, and the firing rate of soldiers has gradually increased, reaching ninety percent since the time of the Vietnam War."
"Ninety percent..."
If ninety percent of peasant soldiers had fired their bows, most wars would have been easily won.
Such a thing was nothing more than a fairy tale in that world, but it seems it has been realized in the modern world.
I can no longer tell which one is the magical world.
"Modern military training is incredible. They perform repeated training where you fire your gun reflexively the moment a target appears from the side, and they adjust you mentally so that you don't find personality in the enemy soldier. Technology has advanced in a direction where they make you shoot before remorse sets in, or they paralyze your conscience."
"...If only twenty percent of people are originally capable of killing, but ninety percent can now fire..."
Being forced to live a life that does not suit them.
That was exactly what I had experienced—
"Exactly. That is why PTSD has been skyrocketing in recent wars. Because they are using the power of science to force eighty percent of soldiers—who were born with brains that feel resistance to killing their own kind—to kill. ...It would be a huge loss if the human resources that developed countries spent so much on education and medical expenses were all turned into invalids by war. It costs money to treat them, too. Therefore, the trend is to put Artificial Intelligence, which has no heart from the start, onto weapons and have them fight in place of humans. ...I don't want Father to be too involved, but it can still be called a promising field of research for the future."
Gradually, I began to understand what Ayako-chan was trying to say.
"In short, you want to say that I'm also on the eighty percent side. The side that was born with a gentle brain that, in truth, cannot kill even an enemy."
"...I think so."
"But I was thrown into wars many times in the other world. I don't know how many digits of demi-humans I've finished off, and I've even been made to hunt down human villains."
"That's why it's serious. Nakamoto-san, you were caught up in a war with Orcs immediately after being sent to the other world, right? You said the combat lasted for ten days."
"You heard that from Ange? It was written in large letters in my autobiography. With handsome illustrations and all."
"...They say that if combat continues for six consecutive days, 98% of soldiers suffer mental damage... Normal humans are not suited for war, and if they end up fighting seriously due to some mistake, they come back broken somewhere..."
"Is that also knowledge you gained from your father's book?"
"Please don't make light of it."
Ayako-chan stared me down with eyes that held more strength than usual.
Unusually, they also looked as if they were welling up.
"Nakamoto-san's heart is already... perhaps, even more than Philia-san's..."