"Are you really John Doe? You seem like an entirely different person than the man I was just speaking to."
I couldn't help but ask.
His transformation was that radical. I found it hard to believe. And yet, it wasn't as if I couldn't comprehend the situation. While his manner of speech had changed completely, the voice was identical. I suspected his earlier timid behavior might have been an act, but I couldn't see the point in such a charade.
Ignoring my bewilderment, John Doe spoke through the magic tool.
"Using my full name every time is a drag. Just call me John."
"Very well, John. Who—or what—are you?"
"I'm a dual personality. Ever heard of the type?"
"Yes, I'm familiar with the concept."
I nodded, the pieces falling into place. A dual personality—two distinct personas residing within a single vessel. I had never encountered one in the flesh, but I had heard rumors of such rare individuals. I had once dismissed the idea as a fabrication, but speaking with him now, I had no choice but to believe.
He truly felt like a different person. It was far more plausible than the idea that he was deceiving me with an impossibly perfect performance.
"The master persona is that little coward you were just talking to. He’s asleep right now. He’s been like that since we were kids—whenever he gets backed into a corner, he swaps out for me."
"And you are the one who takes control during the swap?"
"Bingo. He only has a vague idea that I exist. He’s realized I’m there, but he’s never told a soul. Pathetic, right? He’s just got his heart shut tight against the world."
John lamented with a playful air. He spoke as if it were someone else's problem entirely. Then again, to him, it probably was. They simply happened to share the same physical form.
"This kid was an orphan, abandoned by his parents. I’ve been watching over him since then. Every now and then, I’d lend him a hand. Ah, the memories."
John spoke wistfully. His tone suggested he was gazing off into the distance, reminiscing. Even if he viewed the other persona as a separate entity, did he feel some bond of kinship? At the very least, he didn't seem to hold the boy in contempt. Their personalities were polar opposites, but there was no malice. From the fragments I gathered, their relationship seemed closer to that of childhood friends.
"By the way, 'John Doe' is actually my name. It means 'unidentified corpse.' Pretty clever, don't you think?"
"Does that mean the master persona has a different name?"
"Yep. Though he rarely gets to use it. When he applied to be a military technician, I was the one in the driver's seat. I just gave the name 'John Doe' on a whim. Ever since then, he’s been stuck with it too."
John shared the anecdote with a wry chuckle. If his story was true, then "John Doe" was effectively a pseudonym. It was a name the alternate persona had adopted for convenience, and it had simply become his official identity. The master persona likely never found the courage to correct it.
Then, a sudden possibility occurred to me. I put the question to John.
"Tell me—are you the one providing the knowledge for these weapon developments?"
"Hah, you're sharp! Whenever he’s in control, I whisper to him, making him think he’s had a 'stroke of genius.' Other times, I’ll just leave memos with my ideas lying around where he can find them."
John spoke with pride. The source of his expertise was still a mystery, but he apparently possessed a wealth of technical knowledge. Perhaps it was a trait of his specific personality? I wasn't well-versed enough in the subject to be sure.
"Mind you, things were a disaster until about a year ago. My best ideas were failing left and right, just rotting away. He didn't have the technical skill or the foundation to make them work. Everything he touched just went sideways."
"You seem to have hit your stride recently, however."
"You’re telling me! Ever since a Demon King like you showed up on the scene, everything’s been coming up roses. I didn't even change my approach, but suddenly, the research and development started succeeding. It must be divine guidance or something."
Divine guidance.
Those words struck a chord of unease within me. As I had suspected, there was an external force at play. The timing was too perfect; John’s rise to prominence mirrored my own emergence as the Demon King. And he didn't even understand the direct cause of his sudden success. It was a bizarre, inexplicable phenomenon. While the circumstances differed, it felt remarkably similar to the sudden awakening of a Hero or a Saint. The Will of the World was surely involved.
"The weapons meant to kill you just keep coming together. Honestly, there are parts of the mechanisms I don't even fully understand myself, but they work, so I roll with it. It seems destiny itself wants the Demon King dead."
"......"
"What’s the matter? Too shocked to speak? I can’t say I blame you."
John’s voice was soft, almost sympathetic. But it wasn't genuine concern; it was a mix of pity and mockery. I looked back on all the battles I had fought before I finally spoke.
"Hated by destiny, am I? That is nothing new. I have grown accustomed to it."
"Haha! Now that’s the spirit, O Great Demon King. You’ve got your resolve sorted out. Well, enough small talk. Let’s get straight to the point: you’re going to die soon. Because I’m the one who’s going to kill you."
John made the declaration with absolute certainty. He didn't harbor a shred of doubt regarding his victory. He was the exact opposite of the master persona.
"You have a great deal of confidence."
"I have the preparations to back it up. That other guy wanted to settle this with a chat, but we both know that kind of softhearted nonsense isn't going to work, right?"
"Naturally. We will be taking the Secret Stone back."
No matter what he said, I would not budge on that. If the Great Spirit continued her rampage, it would jeopardize all my plans. I had to put a stop to it.
"I heard what you said earlier, but do you really mean to give it back to that Great Spirit?"
"I do."
"You've got to be kidding me! You look like a monster, but you’re a total pushover! It’s hilarious!"
John erupted into boisterous laughter. He was making a fool of me, but I felt no anger. From a certain perspective, John was right; it was absurd for a Demon King to be acting this way. It was almost comical. Once his laughter subsided, John let out a long breath.
"...Well, your motives don't matter to me. I’m just going to kill the Demon King in my capacity as the world’s greatest inventor. I don't care about money, power, or fame, but I suppose leaving my mark on history would be a fun little diversion. For a second life, this is turning out to be quite the success story."
He fell silent. After a brief pause, he issued a final statement.
"Keep your eyes peeled. This is our greatest masterpiece."
With that, the magic tool went dead. Silence followed his ominous parting words. At the same time, Logan finished his sensing and turned to me with a grim expression.
"Dwight."
"Where is the stone? And where is he?"
I asked curtly. Logan swallowed hard before answering quietly.
"—Underground."
A split second later, the earth began to groan. I sensed a massive surge of magic power deep beneath our feet. It wasn't anything like a golem; it possessed a mass that defied common sense. And it was saturated with the factor of the Great Spirit.
The tremors intensified until it was nearly impossible to stand. I grabbed Logan’s hand and took to the sky. Jagged fissures instantly tore through the ground, and the buildings below began to crumble into ruin. The massive white tower we had been about to enter started to list to the side. The shattered pavement collapsed as the earth buckled and shifted.
(What is happening...?)
I wove a layer of defense magic around us, bracing for whatever attack might come. The situation was still a mystery. It was too dangerous to make a move yet.
Then, the entire area exploded.
Rubble rained down as the remains of the buildings were tossed into the air like toys. The cityscape was obliterated in a heartbeat. Amidst the falling debris, I saw something massive bursting through the crust of the earth.
At first glance, it looked like a tower, but it was a colossal, five-fingered arm made of cold, gleaming metal.