I know this is random, but I have a brother three years older than me.
This is also kind of random, but I think he’s a genius. He can do pretty much anything, and he’s really smart.
I don’t just mean book-smart, either. He has a wise, grown-up way of thinking. “Social intelligence” or whatever you want to call it.
In fact, last year, when Mom and Dad died—or the people we used to call Mom and Dad died—he didn’t trust those researchers claiming to be relatives of ours. Even though he had to get a little forceful, he still managed to keep them at arm’s length.
I’m not sure if he knows this, but I’m actually pretty smart myself. Mostly with data and information systems. And I also know something else: Those people we used to call Mom and Dad weren’t our real parents.
Actually, he probably doesn’t know this, either, but we’re not even biologically related. I took a peek at the research data our “parents” left behind, so I’m sure of it.
Both of us were born from the woman we called Mom. That much is true.
But the genes they’d used to create us had come from completely different sources.
We were artificially engineered as part of the Third Savior Project, then monitored as “successful test subjects raised in a normal household.”
As for our parents, who died last year? It turned out they’d tried to sell off our research data to a foreign country, as one of the Third Savior Project’s rare success stories. Officially, they were killed by monsters while traveling, but in reality, they’d most likely been executed by a military agency. Those self-proclaimed “relatives” who’d shown up around the time of the funeral were other researchers trying to pick up where the two of them had left off.
They even sold our house without permission, probably to leave us without a place to stay and force us into their custody. But no underhanded trick like that would ever work on my genius brother.
Believe it or not, he approached one of the military personnel who had come to the funeral under the pretense of paying respects, and he asked them for protection.
I don’t know if the person he talked to was directly involved in the Savior Project, but the military definitely hadn’t expected one of their engineered subjects—someone raised as a normal civilian—to come to them on his own.
Normally, they would have rejected him outright. The experiment was still ongoing, so technically, we should have remained under the researchers’ control.
Instead, though, the military agreed. Probably because they saw the benefits in not just securing a successful test subject so quickly but also gaining one who actually wanted to cooperate.
It’s obvious when you stop to think about it. For any experiment, it’s much easier and more efficient if the subjects volunteer instead of being forced.
Even if the military had plans to bring us in eventually, they must have decided it was worth upsetting the researchers if it meant earning our loyalty early on. That was probably why they agreed to his terms without hesitation.
I don’t know exactly what kind of deal he struck with them, but judging from the fact that our living conditions didn’t change much other than moving into this new apartment, he must have only asked for a little money and for the researchers to be kept away from me until I reached adulthood.
I looked into how other test subjects were treated after being taken away by the researchers, and what I found wasn’t pretty. My brother must have made that deal so I wouldn’t have to go through anything like that.
In return for their protection, he offered himself to the military. He probably framed it as voluntary enlistment into their division for appearances’ sake.
Normally, one person enlisting wouldn’t mean much—but my brother was different. He was one of the few successful test subjects from the Third Savior Project, and a genius no less.
The military was already short on pilots. Then came news that the Third Division had been wiped out. They were desperate.
And just like that, my brother showed up. As a Third Savior Project test subject, his magicite compatibility was off the charts. Plus, having him nearby also meant early access to data that the researchers usually kept to themselves.
By putting him through training and actual deployment ahead of the other test subjects, the military could gauge the project’s effectiveness and create a benchmark for future recruits.
In other words, they got to move their expected timeline up by a few years.
There’s a saying—Time is money—and in today’s world, with constant invasions by demons and monsters, just about everyone understands how precious a few years can be.
My brother was worth far more than he asked for. Now, just this once, they could get him with minimal investment. Why would they say no?
“I’m back!”
…And just like that, my big brother walked through the door.
The genius. The test subject for the Third Savior Project. The one who’d just gone off to take the military entrance exam.
He had the smarts to leave any researcher in the dust if he was by himself. But because I held him back, he’d had no choice but to cut a deal with the military.
“Welcome back… How did it go?”
Honestly, I didn’t want him joining the military. Especially not now, when they were scrambling to cover for all the damage caused by the Third Division’s rampage. It was the worst possible timing. If he waited a little longer, at least until he finished high school, there would be more data on other test subjects. On top of that, a high school graduate might receive drastically different treatment from a middle school graduate.
I had hoped they would reject him because of his age, but deep down, I already knew what their answer would be.
“I passed the exam. I’ll be joining the military starting next year.”