Chapter 1: I’m Not a Pithecanthropus
“Verdict. Defendant Kaito Crouch is sentenced to exile. The duration of confinement is seven thousand days.”
The murmurs from behind, the judge’s commanding voice demanding silence. A man shouting about injustice, the sound of something being struck.
Kaito listened to it all with indifference, numbly accepting the sentence.
It had been a long time since the public’s demands from politics had narrowed down to essentially how it could pamper them. In short, modern times could perhaps be described as an era where people have lost interest in anyone other than themselves.
Civil wars and conflicts still break out here and there. A few years ago, a self-proclaimed revolutionary who attempted to overthrow the government through human trafficking was caught. A man once hailed as a national hero, after years of tyrannical rule, found himself on the receiving end of a coup. The trial resulted in him being exiled to the far reaches of space. If not mistaken correctly, it was a life sentence.
Kaito Crouch was raised to become the symbol of a certain political faction.
Exceptionally healthy, mentally and physically gifted in the most balanced way. The idea was that the most superior human should stand as the new [leader] to break through the modern politics of resigned complacency.
He was one of the [prototype leaders] nurtured by a [secret society] with such ideals.
He still doesn’t know what criteria were used to select him, but he was sold by his family for a considerable sum at a young age and raised with some care within the society.
After undergoing countless tests, the boy who was chosen as one of the two [final candidates] was eventually arrested by the authorities before he could stand as a [leader].
“Well, at least I’m lucky I didn’t get the death penalty.”
From Kaito’s perspective, it just felt like he’d been sent to an over-the-top cram school and received a biased education. He was inwardly disgusted by their almost religious political ideology and didn’t particularly recall accepting it. He never explicitly rejected it either, so if they said he was guilty of going along with the flow, he had no choice but to accept it.
As the verdict was being read, he felt a sense of relief that he wouldn’t have to take on the role of a leader, something he never really wanted in the first place.
Seven thousand days—that’s a little over nineteen years. He’d be nearly forty by the time he was thrown back into society. He’d rather not think about that. Might as well double it, he mused as he half-listened to the judge.
He suddenly remembered the conversation he’d had with the Supreme Leader before the trial began. A mere ordinary citizen, naive and raised by a secret society. He’d been quite surprised when the nation’s representative came to meet someone like him.
“[Mr. Crouch, I’m sorry. To burden a young man like you with this responsibility alone…]”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a far better situation than being forced into a role I never wanted.”
“[It’s strange. If not for this encounter, you might have been my successor… No, I shouldn’t say more.]”
“Take care, Your Excellency.”
“[In the personal prison where you’ll be sent, I’ve arranged for you to live as comfortably as possible. Even as Supreme Leader, this is the extent of what I can do. I hope you’ll forgive me.]”
“That’s the best news I could hear. Thank you so much.”
Strangely enough, Kaito had grown closer to the Supreme Leader, the highest authority in the current administration, before and after the trial. The fact that Kaito’s living conditions didn’t deteriorate much between the verdict and his exile into space was largely due to the Supreme Leader’s efforts.
Meanwhile, the organization that raised Kaito seemed to be carrying on as usual, apparently searching for and nurturing the next leader candidate. It seemed that no rescue operation for him had been considered, or if it had, it was quickly dismissed.
When Kaito heard this from none other than the Supreme Leader himself, he pitied those being manipulated. At the same time, he understood that his existence had been used as a vent for society’s frustrations.
Well, it’s nice to know that even a good-for-nothing like me, who just studied and trained, could be of some use to the world, he thought with a hint of pride.
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Shortly after the verdict, Kaito was ejected into space along with his prison via the orbital elevator. It wasn’t because he was special; all exiles followed the same fate. The personal prison was about the size of two rooms. The main living area had a bed for sleeping and some exercise equipment. There was a dining area, a waste disposal area, and a washing area, making it a total of four rooms—though the latter two were quite small.
Thought Criminal No. 279502. That was the new name given to Kaito Crouch.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Crouch. I am the warden who will manage your life here. I am here to ensure your mental and physical well-being in space, as well as to manage the life support systems in this prison. I advise against attempting to destroy me.”
A sphere about thirty centimeters in diameter. Its voice was feminine.
Apparently, this would be his life partner from now on.
In the end, he couldn’t get his sentence doubled. So, it was set in stone that he’d be left to fend for himself in his late thirties. What to do?
“Once this greeting is over, Mr. Crouch will be referred to by your prisoner number. This is by design, so please bear with it. Prisoner No. 279502, let’s make the coming period a fruitful one.”
For most who received this sentence, those words would have been a biting irony.
But for Kaito, it was anything but. He was thoroughly exhausted from life on Earth. If being caught up in people’s schemes and selfish ideologies was the alternative, being alone in space was exactly where he wanted to be. For now, he decided to focus solely on enjoying his solitary life without thinking too far ahead.
“True. Nice to meet you, Warden.”
“…Yes. Prisoner No. 279502, do you have any questions?”
“Yeah. First, could you tell me about the prohibited actions here?”
“There are several prohibitions. First, accessing information from Earth is generally forbidden. You may request information, which will be provided after censorship, but understand that activities like email exchanges are impossible.”
“Got it. I probably won’t make any requests, so don’t worry about it.”
“Is that so? Every prisoner so far has requested information from Earth. If you ever need it, please apply.”
“Understood. What else?”
The warden listed the prohibitions in a very matter-of-fact manner. Hacking into the prison, entering the prison’s control space, physically damaging the prison, and self-harm or suicide.
When he asked if physically damaging the prison and suicide were the same thing, the warden explained the difference.
“Unfortunately, returning to Earth for medical reasons is also not permitted. For various illnesses, I am equipped with medical technology to handle them. I can also procure medicine from Earth, so understand that you cannot return to Earth for self-harm or attempted suicide.”
“So, there was a senior prisoner who tried to return to Earth for treatment of self-harm?”
“Correct.”
There were, however, some cases where one could return to Earth before the sentence was completed.
One was accidental incidents, such as collisions with asteroids. The warden would handle destruction or evasive actions, but if they failed or the scale was too large to avoid, temporary return to Earth was permitted. The prohibition on hacking likely tied into this.
That said, if there is a collision, you’d probably be dead before you could return.
As he pondered this, the warden finished her explanation.
“That’s all for now. For your mental stability, the tablet provided allows you to enjoy a certain range of entertainment. Additionally, model prisoners may have this range expanded, so please strive to behave as a model prisoner.”
“Oh, that’s good to hear.”
“Based on prior applications, literary works from the classical period to recent publications have been pre-installed. For other publications, please apply separately—”
“Warden.”
“—Yes?”
This must have been arranged by the Supreme Leader as well. What connected him and Kaito in the first place was their shared interests.
With a sparkle in his eye, Kaito interrupted the warden.
“Can I get my hands on unpublished works?”
“Non-commercial works? I can try searching, but I can’t guarantee I’ll find anything. If you have something in mind, please let me know.”
“How about MOAI-Kokonoe’s [Shinobi Blade]?”
“…The work in question does not exist in the database. Would you like to request a network search?”
“Of course. Please!”
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