Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

*““““The quest is complete (Dude) (Indeed) (Nya)!!””””*

The moment they laughed and spoke those words was the last thing I saw before the power of the white scrap of paper serving as my link was exhausted. My consciousness, which had been half-asleep and gazing into a different world, snapped back to reality, and I returned to the world where I currently lived.

A room in a run-down internet café attached to the station. My body, which had been frozen in a seated position for so long, was incredibly stiff. As I stretched lightly, joints cracked all over.

“…It seems things have stabilized safely. That was a close call for a moment… but since I have no means to interfere anymore, all I can do is hope they’ll do their best.”

Due to the circumstances surrounding me, I cannot directly interfere over there. If I were to cross over there in person, there’s a high risk of drawing unwanted attention back here. Therefore, as a compromise, I managed to slip a few scraps of the pages into her belongings—a minor form of interference… enough to catch her attention for a moment or help guide her into her inner world… but now that I’ve used up all the pages, I can no longer interfere, let alone even monitor the situation.

…Suddenly, I found myself laughing bitterly. Why did I care so much? Considering my objective, my goal was already achieved the moment I delivered “her” to the other side. To put it bluntly, I must have even thought that as long as I could sow the seed there—even if she were to become the plaything of some random villain—that would be enough. ¹

To begin with, the spell to send her over even included a provision to rewrite the target’s consciousness to suit my purposes. However, once it became virtually certain that a player would secure the right to reincarnate into that race, I deleted that provision—even though I knew it would require extraordinary effort, given how deeply integrated it was with the other spells.

.

It was four train stops from the company’s office building. From there, it was a walk of a little over ten minutes to reach the address written on the note. It was on the outskirts of a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs of the same city. The vast plot of land—reportedly sold off when a major landowner passed away recently—was lined with numerous fences. Amid a construction boom featuring large commercial facilities, nursing homes, and various other projects, a single, ordinary-looking one-story house stood isolated at the very edge of the area.

Its entrance was strictly cordoned off. The residents who had lived there—a brother and sister who had only recently come of age—were victims of a mass disappearance case involving about a hundred people that was currently causing a stir, and their whereabouts remained unknown. Furthermore, it was reported that another person in the vicinity—the son of the owner of a nearby kendo dojo—was also missing, and anxiety was spreading among the local residents. Looking closely, this neighborhood, too, was plastered with missing-person flyers everywhere.

I slipped under the barrier rope. No problem. I’d already bribed the surrounding security guards, and at this hour, they were all out on other assignments. My purpose in coming here was to investigate this house.

.

There was a famous support-class player nicknamed “the Princess” among the player community.

Her name first appeared during the first official avatar contest. Initially, the prevailing opinion was that corporate-produced entries would inevitably dominate the podium, and indeed, there was a huge gap in quality between amateur and corporate creations. Amidst all this, a single independently created avatar managed to push aside the corporate contenders and take first place. What’s more, the creator at the time was reportedly a mere thirteen-year-old child.

A girl of just thirteen had created a work that surpassed the avatars produced by all the competing companies. Indeed, that might be possible if one possessed extraordinary talent. In fact, the modeling data sent along with her application for the recruitment exam was truly magnificent, clearly demonstrating her exceptional talent and dedication. We were so impressed that we wanted to hire her immediately as a full-fledged contributor.

However, that’s only looking at it from today’s perspective. So why is it that this thirteen-year-old girl’s debut work possessed such a delicate charm that it even outshone her more recent creations? In other words… could it be that “there was a real-life model behind it”?

…And I had a hunch. Although she looked much younger and there were a few minor differences, that avatar bore an uncanny resemblance to someone in my memory.

Placing my hand over the card reader of the electronically secured door and muttering a few words, I heard a click as the lock released. Opening the door, I was greeted by an interior with virtually no steps and handrails installed everywhere to assist with standing. The layout appeared to center around a large open space combining the kitchen and living room, with adjacent rooms arranged around it.
I stepped inside. In the room I was looking for—a traditional Japanese-style tatami room—I found a Buddhist altar. It seemed to have been cleaned regularly; when I opened the tightly closed doors of the well-maintained altar… I found it immediately.

The portrait of their parents, who had lived in this house and died in an accident several years ago. The figure depicted there was unmistakably “her”—the very person I had been searching for.

“…Heh, heh heh, ha ha ha… Thinking I was manipulating everything exactly as I pleased, yet failing to realize that what I was searching for was right here all along… How, how utterly ridiculous… Hahahaha!!”

I had been searching for her all along. My “jewel” that was supposed to have been flung away along with me, yet could never be found—the one that had slipped right through my fingers. To think she was right here, so close all along. Finding her so easily—almost to the point of being anticlimactic—left me with nothing but laughter. A few tears trickled from the corners of my eyes.

Her hair had grown much shorter. The long locks that once reached her waist were now depicted neatly trimmed to just past her shoulders. Yet, strangely enough, her face hadn’t changed much. She’d always been self-conscious about her baby face, but it seemed that even after having a child and as time passed, she hadn’t changed all that much.

I see. Now that I look at her like this, it’s clear. The model for that avatar, “Iris,” was undoubtedly this woman… my younger sister.

I picked up the family photo that was placed alongside it. It showed four people who appeared to be a mother, father, and their two children. In the center was my smiling younger sister, and next to her stood a kind-looking Japanese man with black hair, smiling gently. Clinging to the pants of the man—presumably her father—and looking shyly at the camera was a little girl with black hair, about five years old, who bore a resemblance to my sister but had Asian features. And then.

With his arm around my sister’s shoulder, looking away as if embarrassed… was a boy who looked just like my younger sister—barely under ten years old, with silver hair just like mine—whose appearance, at first glance, could easily be mistaken for that of a girl—……