Chapter 122: Appropriate Conditions

Hiroyuki sat there with his mouth half open, too stunned for words. He nearly rose to his feet and applauded!

Sure enough, this was still a world governed by science—even a traveler from another universe had been scientifically proven to exist.

As expected of Hikari, a truly peerless scientist, he had used the test results and a series of calculations to deduce that “that world” existed one dimension above this one.

Hiroyuki understood his theory, too. In fact, he felt it might very well be the truth.

If the Ultraman series were regarded as a work of science fiction being played out on a screen, then Hiroyuki and Taiga alike were merely two-dimensional characters within that work.

He simply had not expected those paper-thin characters to become “materialized” for some reason. Once that happened, the fictional world could no longer contain them, and they were “bounced” out.

As for what the “Hiroyuki” lying in a hospital bed during that period had actually been, perhaps Hikari’s theory was correct: he had been a projection of them after they became “materialized.”

It was rather like a shadow-puppet show. A silhouette resembling a dog’s head would be projected onto a wall, so lifelike that it seemed almost real. Yet once the truth was revealed, it would turn out to be nothing more than two human hands folded together. If human hands could be “reduced in dimension” on a wall and become the head of a dog, then in theory, an indescribable four-dimensional creature projecting a “silhouette” into three-dimensional space and turning it into a solid entity with three-dimensional structure should indeed be possible.

The problem was that Hikari had no awareness of being a “two-dimensional paper character.” He regarded this world as three-dimensional, so Hiroyuki and the others had once again been “increased by one,” becoming “four-dimensional creatures” beyond his comprehension—beings that could practically claim Bruton as a relative.

Previously, they had classified Bruton as a four-dimensional creature based on battle records. Its various superpowers appeared flashy and intricate, yet vague enough to be difficult to interpret. Whether the label “four-dimensional creature” truly suited it remained questionable.

Hikari had repeatedly instructed the members of the Guard that, should they encounter Bruton during a mission, they ought to bring back some kind of sample if possible. But Bruton’s strength was undeniable. If the warriors managed to defeat it, that alone was an achievement; finding time to collect samples was simply impossible.

But now, right before Hikari’s eyes, there was a living “four-dimensional creature”—one capable of communicating with them and cooperating with their research.

That meant sleeping soundly while they did whatever they pleased to him.

Hikari was beginning to feel reluctant to let Hiroyuki leave.

Hiroyuki failed to notice the satisfied look in Hikari’s eyes, a look much like that of someone admiring a thriving colony of bacteria in a culture dish. He remained immersed in his own thoughts. As for Hikari’s conclusion that Hiroyuki and Taiga had fused into one and then “ascended” to a higher level, Hiroyuki found it fairly easy to accept. After all, human hosts and Ultramen merging into one was common enough in the Ultraman universe, and the conclusion that he had “ascended” also fit the characteristics of someone who had crossed over from another world.

What troubled him was something else.

“Professor Hikari, is your relationship with Captain Serizawa the same as the relationship between Taiga and me?”

Hikari froze, then shook his head.

“No. It’s different.”

He gave the conclusion first, then began to hesitate. Several times he seemed about to speak, only to swallow the words back down.

In the end, he circled back to—

“Let me give you an example.”

Hiroyuki truly admired Hikari. The ability to possess great talent without becoming arrogant was a rare virtue. Clearly, what Hikari had nearly said just now had been filled with technical jargon and difficult to understand. Instead, he had begun searching for an example that would be easier to grasp.

“You can think of me as a cup of supercooled water, and Serizawa as a grain of sand. When he fell into me, I crystallized around him as the core. Throughout the entire process, water remained water, and sand remained sand. The nature of neither of us changed. You could even regard us as two separate parts. I am still me, and Serizawa is still Serizawa.”

And there had been no change in dimension, either.

Hiroyuki silently added that thought to himself.

“But… you should know about the ‘permeation effect.’ Because of that effect, after spending so many years ‘together,’ Serizawa and I have become inseparable.”

Why did I “have to know” that? Hiroyuki wondered inwardly. Did Hikari have some strange misunderstanding about the extent of his knowledge?

Well, Hiroyuki did know about the permeation effect. Put simply, any substance could permeate another through contact. The time required depended on the movement of the particles within the substances and the temperature, ranging from a few minutes to hundreds of millions of years.

In other words, when an Ultraman inhabited a human being, his “light particles” would gradually permeate the human body, while the particles of the human body would also permeate back into the Ultraman’s body.

Hiroyuki nodded to show that he understood. In that case, there was no need to ask about Jack’s circumstances. They should be more or less the same.

Hikari’s voice seemed to dip somewhat in the middle, but after a brief pause, it recovered. Hiroyuki could not tell whether it was merely his imagination, but Hikari seemed to speak even faster afterward.

“So your experience with Taiga is extremely special. There is no precedent for it. There are many variables involved, and verifying them would require a tremendous amount of work.”

No precedent meant there was no experience to draw upon.

“However, I suspect that the Nebula Particle Conversion System may have played some role.”

Hikari lowered his head to look at Hiroyuki, his eyes gleaming brightly.

Literally gleaming.

Hiroyuki did not notice the change in Hikari’s gaze. He was already hovering on the edge of distraction. He was not particularly interested in the question of why he had crossed over. Even if they discovered the reason, could he return home?

It was not that he felt no attachment to the world without monsters or Ultramen, the world that had offered nothing but marvelous special-effects shows. It was simply that whether he stayed or left did not seem to be his decision to make. All this time, he had merely been a piece of driftwood carried along by the waves.

Besides, judging from Hikari’s statement that figuring out the truth would require a tremendous amount of work, it sounded rather like he was subtly advising Hiroyuki not to dwell on the matter.

Hiroyuki decided to take the hint.

At present, only one question remained on his mind.

“Then… how do I ‘turn sideways’ and become Taiga?”

Without this support, he would be unable to truly stand on equal footing with the enemies of this world. At best, he could only play a supporting role and fight enemies of roughly human size. Faced with gigantic beasts dozens of meters tall, all he could do was watch helplessly—and perhaps run for his life if things went badly.

Hikari was silent for a moment before saying, “All I can tell you is that, under the proper conditions, you can become him. Just as I demonstrated earlier: for that disk, all it takes is a ninety-degree turn.”

The implication was clear. Hiroyuki’s situation was far more complicated than that of the Ultraman medal disk. There was an additional dimension involved, so it certainly could not be solved by simply turning ninety degrees.

“Then what do you mean by ‘the proper conditions’?”

Hiroyuki hurriedly pressed on, adopting the eager expression of a diligent student. He looked up at his good teacher, while Hikari looked down at him.

Their eyes met.

For some inexplicable reason, Hiroyuki suddenly felt a chill.