Became a Failed Experimental Subject Chapter 81

Ch.81 Tools

After inspecting the production facility, Meister takes another nap.  

While she uses her ability to move around, the heroes of W-City engage in awkward conversations in voices too quiet for the soldiers to hear.  

“About Meister’s ability…”  

“Doesn’t it seem less impressive than we thought?”  

“Right? I thought she was some kind of incredible genius.”  

When Meister mentioned she would inspect W-City’s facilities, the heroes were filled with anticipation, expecting some kind of groundbreaking change.  

But in reality, she just blankly looked around before falling asleep.  

Her words upon waking up were downright disappointing.  

“Not much has changed… Oh, for some reason, meat consumption has spiked. Is the city’s market regulation failing…? Maybe we should take measures…”  

“Thank you for your hard work, Meister!”  

“Yaaawn… Where’s next…?”  

“We still need to check the server connection status and observe the Black Cat.”  

After checking the servers, her only follow-up was to say she’d sleep a little more.  

Briefly waking up, Meister once again remarked that nothing had changed before dozing off again.  

This time, it wasn’t her ability—just actual sleep.  

While Meister slept, the heroes spent their guard duty in what was practically a break time at headquarters.  

“Is that it? After the Black Cat report, we’re done?”  

“Feels kinda empty.”  

“From the records, it seemed like she brought massive changes every time she appeared.”  

“She’s not really doing anything.”  

“She’s not a genius, just a superpower human.”  

Come to think of it, Meister only ever talked and slept—she never directly did anything.  

Even during surgeries, it was always, try this, try that. At other facilities, fix this, pay attention to that.  

If that’s all, was there even a need for her to come all the way to W-City?  

They could’ve just reviewed the recorded footage later.  

“Meister’s ability is just really unique.”  

“Ah, Senior.”  

Yoo Anna approached the heroes, who were filling their stomachs with drinks and hot dogs, and spoke up.  

“Just maintaining facilities is impressive enough. Anyway… She’s quickly identifying if anything’s wrong.”  

“But can she really tell just by glancing like that? Feels like she’s just pretending to look.”  

“Her ability lets her know even with just a glance.” 

Yoo Anna glanced at the B-rank and C-rank heroes, hesitating for a moment.  

Should she explain Meister’s ability in detail?  

Given the situation, it might be better to clarify.  

“…Does anyone know about Meister’s ability, the Dimensional Archive?”  

“We don’t have clearance for detailed info.”  

“I saw a bit before the info got restricted, so I kinda know… It’s like a future-sight ability where superpower human senses are maximized, right?”  

“No, not even close.”  

Sighing at the confident but incorrect answer, Yoo Anna grabbed a coffee from the machine and explained.  

“To put it simply, it’s something that answers questions. When she uses her ability and falls asleep, she contacts something unknown in her dreams, and it gives her information humans don’t know.”  

“Huh? Something unknown… Like a god?”  

“Some interpret it that way, but Meister says it’s not a god.”  

“How would she… Oh.”  

The heroes all had the same thought.  

She must’ve asked, Are you a god?  

“So… Even if it looks like she’s just glancing at the facilities, she’s actually asking, Are there any problems with these facilities? And she gets an immediate answer?”  

“Right.”  

“Wait, isn’t that an incredible ability?”  

“That means we don’t need multiple people to inspect facilities.”  

“Just have Meister take a quick look and ask if there’s a problem here…”  

“No, wouldn’t she not even need to look? Just ask, Are there any issues in human-inhabited cities lately?”  

“Well… It doesn’t work like that. Meister’s ability… Has a lot of problems.”  

If it were that simple, she’d be checking everything alone.  

Yoo Anna’s voice turned bitter as she began explaining the fatal flaws in Meister’s ability.  

“I can’t explain in full detail, but first—okay. Can anyone here answer what this coffee I’m holding is?”  

“Uh… Synthetic coffee produced at W-City’s factory?”  

“Slightly sour beans, warm, available from a vending machine?”  

“Right, that level of answer is enough. But this coffee is in my hand, from W-City, from a vending machine, right? If you don’t ask a specific question covering all that, the answers go wild.”  

“Huh?”  

“For example, if you ask, What coffee do W-City heroes drink? You’d get all the info about coffee consumed in the city—the beans’ origin, why we drink it, its taste and composition, sales figures, just everything.”  

“That’s… Kinda too much information?”  

“So for Meister to ask properly, she has to see it herself and ask, ‘Is there a problem with this thing I’m looking at?’”  

“Meaning if she asks, ‘Are there issues with W-City’s production facilities?’ she’s not just checking for current problems, but also past issues and potential future ones?”  

“The key is that whatever answers Meister isn’t a god. If she doesn’t bring new information to the question, it only answers based on existing knowledge.”  

“I think I get it… Wow, this ability is a real headache.”  

If you don’t strictly limit the question’s scope, you get uselessly excessive answers.  

Without seeing it firsthand, you can’t ask, Is there a problem with this thing I’m looking at?  

If you need a new answer but ask without seeing it again, you only get past information.  

“The biggest problem is that Meister isn’t some genius…”  

Meister is barely a D-rank superpower human.  

Her ability’s output is low, so the number of times she can use it—ask questions—is limited.  

That’s why she’s always collapsing from exhaustion, practically addicted to overusing her ability.  

“Meister can’t remember all the answers at once. She doesn’t instantly understand everything when she sees the answer. She has to review it repeatedly, ask follow-up questions to make sense of it.”  

“Questions to understand the answers…”  

“Plus, only Meister can see the answers. Whenever something’s needed, she wakes up and writes them down bit by bit, but if she can’t recall parts, she has to use her ability again to ask and hear the answer.”  

Meister’s ability only answers—it doesn’t force understanding.  

Also, Meister isn’t skilled enough to actually make the things she gets answers about.  

Whenever she wants to create something, she writes down detailed info about the item, its materials, and how to produce them.  

Then, companies use that info to realize and manufacture what Meister found.  

Meister is a human search engine and printer, and one with performance below expectations.  

“If the answer’s too long, Meister can’t process it all… A bad question risks overloading her.”  

“Wait, does that mean Meister handles all the abilities’ computations?”  

“It’s her ability.”  

The output, computations, and energy needed for a human to use an ability—all the processing for answers—are automatically consumed by her heart and brain.  

If she asks a question with too many answers, her own ability could kill her.  

As this realization dawned on the heroes, the image of Meister, who always looked exhausted, flashed through their minds.  

“…Isn’t this ability kinda flawed?”  

“The more I hear, the less she sounds like humanity’s hero, the legendary genius Meister.”  

“Right. Meister isn’t a genius—just a superpower human. And that flawed ability is what saved humanity.”  

Just then, Iron Might approached, eating a large sandwich.  

“The new-material shelters that withstand monsters, food production to sustain daily life, construction drones that quickly rebuild residential areas—all of that came from Meister’s ability. Without her, all non-superpower humans would’ve died.”  

“We know that, but…”  

“It’s just… The ability’s so unreliable.”  

“Unreliable? You idiots should be calling it garbage.”  

From behind Iron Might, Electress stepped forward and ripped a chunk out of his sandwich—the part with the most meat and cheese.  

The W-City heroes stared as she ate the stolen bite.  

“What? I’m hungry too. Energy Emission-types have terrible efficiency—don’t you W-City morons know that?”  

“That’s not why.”  

“Then what? Mad, I interrupted? Just telling you dumbasses to stop idolizing Meister so much. I don’t like her either.”  

As the heroes side-eyed Iron Might, he expressionlessly shifted the topic.  

“Meister’s ability might be lacking and unreliable, but she is a true hero… She kept asking questions that could’ve killed her, compiling info to help humanity. Everything we eat, this building—it’s all thanks to her. Especially early in the monster outbreaks, when no one knew how to handle them, she was a huge help—”  

“Yeah, and now she’s like chewed-out gum or fruit peel scraps.”  

You can keep chewing it or brew tea with it, but the real use is long gone.  

Electress’s cold assessment made the W-City heroes exchange glances.  

“Can she really say that?”  

“She’s still the hero who let humanity survive the monster era.”  

“Is this superpower human elitism…?”  

“She’s here to guard Meister, too.”  

Tsk. Electress clicked her tongue, snatched Iron Might’s drink, and took a sip.  

“You think I wanted to guard her? If we didn’t, the government pigs would pull some shady stunt. I didn’t want to come back to this moron-infested city either.”  

She shoved the drink back at Iron Might, annoyed.  

“She helped early on, but now she’s more of a hindrance… Causing chaos, fattening up government pigs.”  

Sigh.  

Meister brings chaos.  

Yoo Anna silently agreed, recalling an incident from long ago.  

To overcome the monster era, each city’s research departments and high-ranking officials debated endlessly before settling on a solution:  The Monster Weaponization Project.  

As S-rank heroes, both Yoo Anna and Iron Might had access to detailed records of Meister’s answers.  

The question the government officials asked Meister and demanded answers to: 

[Can monsters that don’t antagonize humans exist?]  

[Can humans create such monsters?]  

The answer was yes.  

Driven by that single word, they tried to tame monsters.  

Monsters that seemed subdued by drugs and machines—or pretended to be.  

Until they rampaged, killing countless heroes and civilians.  

The Monster Weaponization Project failed like a nightmare.  

The causes: lack of information, time, and… The attempt itself.  

If there had been no hope, they wouldn’t have tried.  

“Her biggest problem is that she answers even near-impossible questions with possible… No.”  

Even now, some refuse to abandon the Monster Weaponization Project.  

Some are still pushing the Artificial Superpower human Project.  

Everyone who lived through that nightmare says the same thing:  If only Meister’s ability had been stronger back then.  

If only she could’ve asked more questions.  

Reaching the same conclusion, Meister overworked herself to uncover more information.  

Pushing her overclocked ability to the brink, bleeding, starving—she never stopped.  

Meister never had time to grow as a superpower human.  

“Being weak is the problem.”  

A weak superpower human is just a tool to be consumed by the government and humanity.