Kays Translations

Chapter 78: 1% Progress

The parts making up the Demon King Gremlin ranged in size from 0.4 to 2.2 mm. The sizes varied depending on the type of part. They were roughly the size of grains of sand. When Hiyori visited the workshop to observe, she accidentally blew some of the neatly arranged components off the workbench with a single breath (I had to painstakingly recover them afterward), so she’s now banned from the workspace during disassembly.

After three days of work, I had removed 6,000 parts from the main body—just 1% progress. My earlier assumption that I could finish the entire disassembly in six months was too optimistic. It looked like it would take a year.

The issue lay in my memory capacity.

Around the time I passed 800 dismantled parts, the 3D blueprint in my head started to get tangled.

If it were just about taking the parts apart, I could work twice as fast.

But I needed to memorize how each part connected to another—so I could reassemble it perfectly. That slowed me down.

I had been confident in my spatial memory skills for mechanical structures, but with a total of around 600,000 parts, it was no longer something I could manage by memory alone.

To ensure I could put everything back together later, I started taking notes as I worked. Because of that, my projected finish date had been pushed way back.

With only 1% disassembled, I hadn’t learned much yet. In fact, the number of things I didn’t understand was increasing.

One thing I did learn was that there are many identical parts.

Out of the 600,000 parts, many followed the same standard design. There were dozens—maybe hundreds—of components I could only describe as “twin gremlin parts,” so precisely crafted that I couldn’t tell them apart, even with my trained eye.

The precision was astounding—there wasn’t even the slightest imperfection.

I won’t say it’s beyond my capabilities, but trying to carve out all 600,000 parts at that level of precision would take longer than my natural lifespan.

That level of precision alone hinted at the technological sophistication of whoever (or whatever?) created the Demon King Gremlin. It rivaled—or perhaps even surpassed—the peak-level manufacturing tech of Earth’s scientific civilization in 2024, during its prime.

Whether this was done by advanced machinery or the handiwork of a master artisan like myself was unclear. It’s also possible, though unlikely, that the Demon King simply acquired these biomechanical parts as a result of evolutionary development.

On the flip side, one thing I did understand that only made things more confusing was the sheer variety of gremlins.

Every part of the Demon King Gremlin was, at its core, a gremlin—but their properties differed significantly.

There were standard gremlins. That was straightforward.

Then there were melt-and-reform gremlins. That made sense too.

But then there were bouncy gremlins—components with a soft, rubbery elasticity. That made no sense. They functioned as magical conductors like normal gremlins, but they were squishy like rubber.

Some looked like standard gremlins at first glance but lost their magical function when a magnet was brought close.

Others had decreased hardness but increased strength.

The most amazing part was that, despite containing such a wide array of gremlins, the Demon King Gremlin functioned as a single, cohesive, standard gremlin.

It was like mixing sugar, salt, vinegar, and chili powder—and somehow, all you tasted was sugar. That kind of miracle. It went beyond mere technology—this was art.

I suspect all these diverse gremlins were created by modifying, processing, or refining standard gremlins in various ways.

There’s no concrete evidence. Just the intuition of a craftsman who knows gremlin processing better than anyone else in the world. Still, I don’t think I’m wrong.

One of the materials used in the Demon King Gremlin—melt-and-reform gremlins—is something Earth civilization, despite having less than a decade of exposure to magic, has already figured out how to produce. If research continues, we’ll surely unlock the methods to create elastic gremlins, magnetically reactive gremlins, high-strength gremlins, and more.

Studying the Demon King Gremlin gives us a glimpse into what’s beyond magic technology and magical civilization. It makes me painfully aware that Earth’s magical civilization is still in its infancy.

All I can do is keep researching and improving. Someday, before I die as a feeble old man, I want to create a hyperdimensional magic staff that surpasses the level of magic civilizations sung of in forgotten epics—and leave behind a legend.

Now then.

When I get too absorbed in my work, I tend to enter a hyperfocused state. I’ll forget to sleep, forget to eat, and then wonder why I’m suddenly starving—only to look at the clock and realize ten hours have passed.

Dismantling the Demon King Gremlin is so fascinating that I often find myself slipping into that state. But if I try to work on something this time-consuming—almost a year-long task—without eating or drinking, I’ll die.

This isn’t the kind of job that can be finished in one go. It’s a long-term effort that demands persistence. I need to pace myself, take breaks, and settle in for the long haul… or so Hiyori insisted.

She made a valid point.

But… what does that have to do with her being in a swimsuit?

“Last year, we promised to go swimming in the river again this year, remember?”

“Did we…?”

“I even said it last week: ‘Let’s go river swimming next week.’”

“Did you…?”

“I said it again yesterday.”

“I kinda feel like you might’ve said something…”

As I tilted my head in confusion, Hiyori poked me with the nose of an inflated orca float.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard. Seriously. You’re allocating too much brainpower to your hobbies. Your daily life is starting to fall apart. Take a proper break.”

“Yeah, I guess. So, should we hit the river today? Ah! That’s why there was a beach umbrella by the front door? I thought it looked out of place.”

“You just noticed that now!? Unbelievable… Anything else you’ve noticed? Anything you want to say?”

Hiyori placed her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest as she said this.

It looked like the same black bikini as last year—except the design was a little different. And maybe she remembered my complaint from last year, because this time she had a thin, frilly skirt wrapped around her waist to hide her lower half, reducing the exposed skin. That was thoughtful.

“Your swimsuit’s changed.”

“Yeah, I got a new one just for today. Thoughts?”

“The swimsuit? Nah, nothing really. It’s just a customized version of last year’s, right?”

“…Haa.”

Hiyori let out a big sigh, and as I looked her up and down, I noticed something strange.

Her figure hadn’t changed since last year. Her skin was just as smooth. She still had that eternal-18 vibe.

And yet… she looked different.

It was weird.

“Hey, are you using magic or something right now?”

“No? What are you talking about this time?”

“Seriously? Not like, a charm spell or some illusion thing?”

“Of course not! I hate mind-control magic. It reminds me of Iruma.”

She raised her voice and denied it clearly, deepening the mystery even further.

“Then it’s odd. You don’t look any different than last year, but you look more beautiful.”

“?!”

“Cuter than last year. And more heart-racing to look at.”

“Heh…”

“That’s so weird. Your species has a long lifespan, right? But you do age, don’t you? Isn’t it strange to get prettier as you get older? You were already the most beautiful girl in the world, and now you’re even more polished.”

“Ahh…”

“Hiyori, are you okay? It was fine when you lived alone in remote Ome, but now you’re staying in a tower of ice on a college campus, right? Aren’t you getting hit on by tons of guys? With a face like yours, I worry some bad dude might seduce you.”

“Hnn…”

As I stared at her lovely face and voiced my concerns, Hiyori blushed furiously and looked down.

And then, no matter what I said after that, she wouldn’t respond.

Ahhh man, she’s broken again. Can’t she have a serious conversation with me? I was being serious here.

She might not realize it, but she already got seduced by a bad woman (the Witch of Eternal Flame) and ended up with a kid. That’s already happened once. I worry it might happen again with someone else.

According to the Spider Witch, Hiyori tends to “crash” whenever I compliment her. Even when I think I’m not complimenting her, apparently I am—unintentionally.

Hmmm. Since she’s blushing, she’s probably embarrassed.

If that embarrassment made her shut down, then something I said must’ve been interpreted as a compliment.

Just saying the truth and showing concern counts as a compliment…? Social interaction is way too hard. How do people manage to pull off this kind of high-difficulty mission every day?

It took quite a while for the broken Hiyori to reboot, but eventually, under the bright blue sky again this year, we headed to the Tama River for some fun in the water.

At first, Hiyori was moving awkwardly like a robot, but by lunchtime, when we started stacking big rocks in the river to build a dam, she was back to normal. Water leaked through the gaps easily, but it was still fun—upstream and downstream water levels changed by a few centimeters, so it worked.

We spent the whole day playing in the river and finished off with a barbecue before heading home.

It was a fun day again this year.

Still, it would’ve been even more fun if the Spider Witch and the Professor had come too…

I wonder why Hiyori only ever invites me to go river playing? It’s kind of strange.

It’s also a mystery why the blue witch, who’s head-over-heels for Kei-chan, never invites the ermine. Not like it’s scared of water or anything.

As for not inviting the Spider Witch… well, I guess that makes sense.

Hiyori apparently doesn’t like the decoy the Spider Witch made of herself.

I get that. If someone made a doppelgänger of me, I’d probably find it creepy too.

The Spider Witch is oddly humble toward the blue witch who once tried to destroy her decoy. Well, even if the decoy gets smashed, it can be regenerated as long as it’s stored in the little hollow in the Spider Witch’s stomach. Apparently it can also be healed with restoration magic.

Still, that’s like saying “It’ll grow back anyway, so let’s just shave your head bald.” Even if it doesn’t hurt and it comes back, no one wants that to happen.

Speaking of decoys, it reminded me—the texture I felt when carving one was similar to that of the high-strength Gremlin used in the Demon King Gremlin’s parts. Not the same, but very close.

Hmm…

Maybe the Demon King Gremlin was designed based on elements of the natural world…?

Earth has examples too, like swimsuits modeled after sharkskin or honeycomb structures inspired by beehives. Adopting nature’s best designs into engineering is pretty common.

There are even naturally layered Gremlins like the Dragon Furnace Gremlin. When it comes to the Demon King Gremlin’s structure and components, maybe we’ll find similarities if we study the body structures of witches, sorcerers, or monsters.

Once the disassembly progresses far enough and we get a solid grasp of the design, it might be worth having the Monsters or Mutation departments at the Magic University help investigate if any beings have similar internal structures.

That’s why I have to keep progressing with the disassembly and analysis.

It’s a job only I can do, and it’s turned out to be way deeper and more fun than I originally expected.

It’s the best—having fun and gaining new technology out of it!

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