Kays Translations

Chapter 110: Sataish True Core Theory

Politically speaking, dealing with Gazer-kun and Mamono-kun is difficult.

Illegally keeping a Class-A Type-1 monster is essentially an act of terrorism, and considering the potential damage, it would normally be a death penalty offense.

So, by common standards, both Gazer-kun and Mamono-kun should be sentenced to death—but they were saved because they defied common sense.

There are no other cases of a Class-A Type-1 monster being tame, docile, and controllable. Mamono-kun, who not only has the know-how to handle such a monster but also plays a core role in the ghost gremlin mass production project, is an irreplaceable talent.

Gazer-kun becomes visibly upset and acts out if Mamono-kun isn’t nearby. As a result, they haven’t been separated and have been granted special permission for relatively free movement.

Now living in an isolated facility in the Chichibu Mountains dubbed a “new residence,” the human and the creature are constantly monitored wherever they go, and they’re required to submit a daily schedule of activities. However, just for today, monitoring is nominally assigned to the Blue witch, and Mamono-kun has taken Gazer-kun on a trip to Okutama.

Hiyori told me three times to “reconsider,” but in the end, she nodded in agreement.

Even so, she’s standing between Gazer-kun and me with her staff Kyanos always pointed at him, so maybe it would’ve been better for Gazer-kun if I had reconsidered.

If Gazer-kun does anything suspicious, he’ll probably get frozen to death instantly.

When Gazer-kun visited our home, he was initially about 2 meters tall and couldn’t get through the door, but with a deflating balloon sound, he shrank to about 1 meter and floated in after Mamono-kun. He’s pretty handy like that.

Hiding behind Mamono-kun’s back, Gazer-kun moved the eyeballs on his tentacles restlessly, observing the surroundings. He locked eyes with Mokutan, who was peeking out from behind my back.

“Gii?”

“Mi? Nice to meet you. I’m Mokutan. Your magic is amazing.”

“Gii-gii.”

“You can’t talk? I’m a talking monster. I’m amazing too.”

“Gii.”

“…What creaks when it opens?”

“Gii-gii?”

“Mi—Correct. Smart.”

When Mokutan smiled sweetly, Gazer-kun also laughed—“Gigegegege!” That laugh is terrifying!

Still, the atmosphere was warm and heartful. This is what a Class-A Type-1 monster looks like?

Once things had settled down, I gave Mamono-kun a tour of my home. It was in return for showing me his Kappa House.

Mamono-kun is a good listener, so I ended up explaining all sorts of things enthusiastically, but just as expected, what caught his attention the most was the Fire Lizard Interior Lamp.

He brought his face up close—just short of bumping it with his kappa mask beak—and examined it carefully.

“Oh? A monster gremlin-themed interior piece. That’s impressive.”

“Oh! You’ve got an eye for quality! That’s made from the gremlin of a Daidarabotchi. It’s designed to look like a baby fire lizard. And here’s the kicker—watch this… Ta-da! The tail lights up with fire!”

“Whoa!? Ama—amazing! It really looks alive!”

His genuine reaction made me proud. Right? Even if it’s an 80-year-old piece, the beauty of art transcends time.

“Can I touch it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Well then, excuse me… Hmm. The texture of the scales… the jaw doesn’t open… even the pupils are carved!? This is some perverted craftsmanship… It goes beyond art—it has monster scholarly value… It’s worth using a Class-A Type-1 gremlin for this…”

Mamono-kun muttered to himself while handling and admiring the piece, completely lost in his own world, but eventually he snapped out of it. After placing the ornament down, he thought for a bit, then looked at me.

“Dairi-san, do you take commissions for statues?”

“Depends on my mood. And the job.”

“Then, would it be possible to create a precise statue of the Eyeball Witch?”

“The Eyeball Witch?”

That reminded me. I had seen statues and portraits of the Eyeball Witch in Mamono-kun’s house. I hadn’t paid them much mind back then, but now it made sense—they were probably related to Gazer-kun.

As it turns out, Gazer-kun and the Eyeball Witch are presumed to be of the same species, and he’s happiest when playing with statues of her. The one in the Kappa House was apparently handmade by Mamono-kun.

If that’s the case, leave it to me. I’m good at making statues. I even once crafted a spider witch decoy to look just like Hiyori. A statue like this is no big deal. I’ll make it way better than Mamono-kun ever could.

Using some stone from the backyard, I whipped up a high-quality Eyeball Witch statue in about an hour. As I worked, Gazer-kun, who had been playing with a frog, wandered over. He dropped the frog, stretched out a trembling tentacle to touch the statue, picked it up, and hugged it tightly.

Instead of rubbing his cheek, he rubbed his eyeball against it and squealed, “Gii gii!” Then, with sparkling eyes, he blinked at me passionately.

“Gii, gigii…!”

“Hey, don’t do anything suspicious. Back away from Dairi.”

“Oh, it’s okay. He’s just happy. He’s showing gratitude for the statue.”

Mamono-kun quickly calmed down the increasingly alert Hiyori.

Gratitude, huh? That makes me kinda happy.

So even Class-A Type-1 monsters bond easily? Even this eyeball critter understands my art. Kukuku… he’s starting to look kinda cute now.

“It seems he now recognizes you as a divine sculptor of erotic dolls.”

“Wha—? That’s… not a title I want…”

I definitely didn’t add any erotic elements. What a disgrace!

Their species’ values are way too different from ours.

Gazer-kun became so obsessed with the high-quality Eyeball Witch statue that he wouldn’t budge from the spot. So, leaving Hiyori and Mokutan to keep watch, Mamono-kun and I went back to the workshop to talk about payment. I don’t work for free—even for statues. I don’t do cheap craftsmanship. 0933 is all about high-end products.

But just as we began discussing payment, the doorbell rang. When I went to the entrance, there was a stoat holding a flower-patterned parcel in its mouth.

“Oh, it’s the Professor.”

“Hello, Dairi-san. I arrived a bit early.”

“Come on in. Mamono-kun’s here too, by the way.”

“Oh, really? I hope I brought enough cookies…”

I brought the professor to the workshop. When Mamono-kun saw the stoat carrying the parcel, his eyes went wide, but he seemed to immediately realize who it was. He stood and bowed politely.

“Hello. You must be Professor Kei Ohinata? I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Mamono-kun, Vice President of the Japan Monster Society. Please, feel free to call me just ‘Mamono-kun.’”

For someone wearing such a weird mask, he had surprisingly normal manners.

The professor also seemed familiar with Mamono-kun. Though she flinched slightly when she caught a glimpse of the hyper-realistic kappa mask, she quickly regained composure, hopped onto the drafting table, and returned the greeting with a polite bow.

“Thank you for the warm welcome. I’m Kei Ōhinata, Headmaster of Tokyo Magic University. I’ve heard stories about you too, Mamono-kun. They say you’re a genius monster scholar from Hokkaido.”

“Oh, I’m flattered. Compared to Ōhinata-sensei, I’m still a novice.”

“If you live long enough, your achievements just pile up. I’m not as big of a deal as people say.”

“Oh, don’t be modest. If you’re not considered a great figure, then every other scholar might as well resign.”

While the two of them were engaged in a boring adult conversation, I tore open the package the professor had brought and devoured the cookies inside.

Mmm, delicious. You’ve really improved, Sensei! No, maybe it’s not your skills that have improved, but the quality of the ingredients? Or perhaps I should be more surprised that you could even make sweets of this quality in a post-apocalyptic era.

I left one cookie each for the two who were still deep in conversation and took a breather.

The monster boy’s eyes were glued to the professor’s swaying, alluring tail, while the professor kept staring intently at the monster boy’s elaborate kappa mask. Their mutual praise and humble denials seemed like they would go on forever.

I wouldn’t have minded just listening in forever, but eventually, they noticed me sitting there spaced out and quickly apologized for leaving me out of the conversation.

“Nah, I actually like being out of the loop. But if we’re getting to the main topic, that’s fine too. Sensei, did you tell the university about the golden spiral structure? How did that go?”

When I steered the conversation in that direction, the professor, holding a cookie in both hands and nibbling on it, shared the results.

“As for the golden spiral structure, it ended up supporting the hypothesis. As it turns out, seventy years ago, Professor Sataish from India was the first to mention a possible mechanism or magic that connects to the planet’s core in a paper. This is what’s known as the ‘Sataish True Core Theory.’ What Dairi-san did this time was provide empirical evidence for something that had only been theoretically predicted until now.”

“Oh? So someone already got there first.”

A little disappointing that I couldn’t be a pioneer in a new field, but oh well. Anyone with a background in geometry or feng shui could have stumbled upon the ideas of golden spiral structures and ley lines. It would be strange to think no one touched on it while I was dead.

According to the professor, the existence of ley lines and their connection to the planet had been a subject of repeated research.

This isn’t some fluffy “Hey, Earth’s like a fantasy world now, so ley lines probably exist, right?” kind of talk. It’s a logical discussion grounded in science.

Back in the old era, there was a theory called the “dynamo theory.”

In short, it was the idea that Earth is a giant magnet.

The Earth’s core contains molten, high-temperature metals that constantly move due to rotation and convection. This movement generates electric currents, and those currents create a magnetic field. It’s essentially the same principle as the electromagnets we experimented with in elementary school science classes—just on a planetary scale.

This massive planetary magnetism protected life on Earth from harmful solar winds and cosmic rays. The magnetic barrier acted like a shield against these attacks. It’s also the reason why compasses point north.

The issue was: how did the Gremlin Disaster affect this dynamo system?

Gremlins feed on electricity. They can pass through matter and spread over vast areas, so it’s assumed they’ve interfered with the generation of electricity and magnetism deep within the Earth.

Normally, the electricity generated in the core produces magnetism, which creates a global magnetic shield. But if the gremlins stole that electricity, no magnetism would be generated, and the magnetic shield would vanish.

Without a magnetic barrier, Earth would be exposed to constant assaults from solar winds and cosmic rays, resulting in massive global environmental changes.

That’s what should have happened.

But it didn’t.

Compasses still work. Auroras still appear. There’s no observable impact from solar winds or cosmic rays.

The Earth’s magnetism is still functioning. Something that should have disappeared when the electricity vanished—has not.

There are two hypotheses that attempt to explain this strange phenomenon.

One is the “Gremlin Containment Hypothesis.”

The idea is that even though gremlins can pass through matter and spread, they weren’t able to penetrate the 2900 kilometers of solid rock separating the surface from the molten metal at the Earth’s core.

We can’t verify conditions 2900 km underground, so it’s just a theory—but if it’s true, then electricity is still alive in the core.

If electricity is alive, so is magnetism. That neatly explains why Earth’s magnetic field hasn’t disappeared.

The other hypothesis is the “Sataish True Core Theory.”

This theory posits that the electricity in the core was consumed by gremlins, and a new force, similar to but distinct from magnetism, was born.

According to this theory—which assumes that gremlins did reach the Earth’s core—massive numbers of gremlins continue to grow there.

The flow of molten metal generates electricity, which the gremlins consume to grow. The grown gremlins then melt under the extreme heat, merging with the liquid metal.

What the late Professor Sataish focused on was exactly this point.

Gremlins that grow by absorbing electricity could be considered masses of electrical energy themselves. Humanity has no knowledge of what reactions occur when massive quantities of these electrically-charged gremlins mix with molten metal under extreme heat and pressure.

Could gremlins be generating a force field similar to the lost magnetism?

This theory gained credibility through the discovery and study of magical metals.

Metal can change under gremlin influence. For example, Abyss Gold—a deep-sea metal altered by oceanic pressure.

So if gremlins in the core are interacting with molten metal under high heat and pressure, it wouldn’t be strange if they were transforming it into some unknown magical metal.

The Earth’s core, altered by gremlins, is gradually changing the planet’s environment over tens of thousands of years.

In reality, there are equations and chemical compositions involved, making it more complex, but that’s the general outline of the “Sataish True Core Theory.”

“Okay, I think I get it.

Basically, there’s a huge-ass gremlin in the Earth’s core.

That gremlin is churning out a shit-ton of special magic metal.

And either the force field that magic metal creates—or the metal itself—is what ley lines actually are.

That about right?”

“Excellent summary. To add one point, according to the Sataish Theory, it takes at least 50,000 years for magic metal created in the core to reach or seep out to the surface. That explains why you said ‘the ley lines are thin.’ Earth’s ley lines are probably still newborns—naturally weak, naturally thin.”

The professor concluded her explanation, and Mamono-kun and I let out a breath of impressed awe.

What an epic story it was. Fifty thousand years. An unimaginably vast stretch of time.

I had thought that Earth’s electricity had been sealed away, monsters had appeared, magic had spread, and the environment had drastically changed. But it seemed that those were just the beginning stages of transformation.

It made sense that some forms of magic assumed the use of magical metals.

In magical civilizations, they must have been able to mine natural magical metals.

They had already walked the path that Earth would take over the next fifty thousand years, and the use of various magic metals had become completely normal to them.

Just as humanity came to use iron and copper as a matter of course, magical metals must have been the universal, everyday materials for magical civilizations.

It was all very convincing.

But there were still things we didn’t understand.

Before I could raise my hand to ask a question, Mamono-kun did so and directed a question to Ohinata-sensei.

“I understand the concept of the ley lines. But what is their connection to the golden spiral structure? You mentioned that the Blue Witch testified her magic energy mingled with the ley lines through the golden spiral, didn’t you?”

Mamono-kun asked exactly what I wanted to know, and the stoat smiled in satisfaction.

“That’s the key point. Excellent observation, Mamono-kun. To get straight to the point, we do not know the relationship between the ley lines and the golden spiral.

The Sataish True Geocore Theory is only theoretical, and until Dairi-san and Ao-chan confirmed the existence of ley lines the other day, we couldn’t even say for sure whether the theory was valid.

The theory does touch on connecting to ley lines. Given what we know from Demon King Gremlin, the magical civilization must have been incredibly advanced. It’s hard to believe they wouldn’t have used the energy or resources of the ley lines at all. After all, even humanity has incorporated the Earth’s geomagnetism into its technology—like in compasses.

The idea that the method of connecting was the golden spiral structure is new information. As far as we currently know, the connection can’t be established without using materials from Fuyou-san, and even then the ley lines are still immature, so the connection is weak. Only someone like Ao-san, with extremely refined magic control, can even sense their presence.

The relationship between ley lines and the golden spiral is something we hope future research will clarify.”

Apparently satisfied with the Q&A, the two scholars began chatting about related topics.

Hold on a second, you two. What’s with those faces like you’ve done all you can and now it’s time to relax?

The real fun starts now, doesn’t it?

Professor Ohinata is an expert in the Sataish True Geocore Theory.

Mamono-kun is knowledgeable about the golden spiral structures that monsters and transcendents are born with.

And I’m really handy.

They say three heads are better than one.

Don’t you think the three of us can solve this mystery together?

“Sensei, Mamono-kun. Can I say something? Mamono-kun, I want you to at least half-pretend this is your payment for the stone statue job and listen. Would you be willing to do some research with me? If my staff can access the ley lines, I think we might be able to draw infinite magical power from them. Which means I could evolve my staff even further! …Maybe. So, will you help me?”

“Ah, well. I need to return to the mountains of Chichibu by nightfall, so I can only offer a bit of help, but if that’s okay, I’d be happy to.”

“I’m fine with it too. It’s not my area of expertise, so I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but this sounds way too interesting to pass up!”

Relieved that both were on board, I felt glad to have made some easygoing friends.

Now that it was settled, there was no time to waste.

Let’s experiment together!!

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