No wonder Professor Moriarty had such a strong resonance with "Devotion" and "Adaptation."
Professor Moriarty, who had become somewhat obsessed by now, was like a player who had "already made up his mind to reload, or even start over..." Although he had yet to obtain the ability to reload, he already regarded it as something in the bag.
So how could he make the best use of this reload? Naturally, he would use it to test all the things he would never do during a normal game.
This was precisely a form of "recycling waste."
Because "this save" no longer held any meaning in his eyes...
No—even more than just this save.
If he still failed to find the answer after the first reincarnation, he would surely continue reincarnating. What he sought was neither truth nor perfection, but merely the possibility of "continuation."
"That's why I've been so patient with you, Iver. I've told you everything I know, without holding anything back..."
The bird spoke in a comforting, magnetic voice, as though opening his arms toward Iver. "Because perhaps you're the only one who can accompany me back to the past.
"I've never taken any of your Traits, nor have I ever opened that door. I don't know what will happen—whether I'll obtain your abilities or gain your assistance... whether I'll return alone, whether we'll return together, or whether I'll have to return with your soul. I don't know any of that.
"We might become partners, or you could call us comrades-in-arms. We'd wander through time in search of the light of salvation. Doesn't that sound romantic?"
"...It does."
Iver fell silent for a moment before saying firmly, "But—I refuse."
"That's all right. You'll crave it eventually."
Professor Moriarty smiled faintly. "I truly never imagined that Yulia could be revived