Chapter 8

I woke up.

Strictly speaking, the body I’m contained within woke up.

My consciousness had been following Joanna all along. She’s doing exactly what the first person to gain power from the book would do.

Realizing her own power and understanding all the things she can accomplish with it. And then, as she begins to see what she could become, a little greed starts to creep in.

It feels like witnessing a reincarnator.

Couldn’t this be how I feel too?

After all, I’ve gained some kind of power now, right? Someone who pretends to follow the rules but actually worships strength while disregarding the narrative of the story… munchkin.

Munchkins are great.

You get to do whatever you want.

The gamemaster and other players might hate it, but is there anything more dopamine-inducing than easy-to-understand strength?

And surpassing the entity that granted you power after receiving it—so much fun!

But that doesn’t bother me.

As long as I keep getting warmth, I don’t care if the person who gave me power becomes a butcher or a hero.

I want an automatic factory simulation, not an RPG.

So let’s set a goal. First, I need more harvesters. A faint light pushed me into its embrace, and then bright, warm light filled me.

Isn’t this about harvesting warmth using resources?

I sat up from the altar where I was sleeping and took off the fluffy hat on my head.

*Swoosh*

The hat dissolved into dark purple smoke and disappeared.

I don’t know if the power I possess is me or the power itself, but I need to figure out how this works.

Main Goal: Increase Harvesters

Sub Goal: Test Power

In a place where no one is around, testing my power seems like the priority. I try changing my clothes. There are a few outfits in Rebecca Rolfe’s mind for important occasions.

Just a little bit.

If I push myself even slightly toward Rebecca Rolfe, cracks form on my skin, and dark purple mist flows out. It’s just an expression—it’s not literally splitting.

Still, I can control the speed at which the mist comes out more slowly now. The dark purple mist enveloped the pajamas I was wearing and turned them back into mist, leaving me naked before transforming me into a thick, rigid jacket outfit.

This isn’t really season-appropriate.

Rebecca Rolfe was kidnapped after her family was murdered during a time when most people wore short sleeves.

Not much time has passed, so it’s still summer.

I want to appear unintelligent, but clothing that clashes with the season conveys a different kind of foolishness.

Something… what’s the word?

A white dress? Could that work?

Oh, it did work.

The back is cut low, but the skirt is decently long, and the dress enhances my figure. Hmm? Did I have this dress before?

Hmm… probably not, but since it showed up, let’s say it’s fine.

Overall, it’s cute, so it works. It feels less like I’m wearing something and more like I’m decorating the object I control.

Don’t you choose female characters in games sometimes?

Although it definitely applies strange pressure to my body, I don’t feel like I’m cross-dressing. After all, the sensations from when I was originally male have completely faded.

Besides, it’s cold.

Still.

The chill seeps deep into my bones, and it’s only getting colder without end.

If this were a real body, it would eventually get so cold it heats up, or I’d start feeling pain instead of just cold.

But none of that happens here.

Maybe there truly is no limit to how cold it can get.

But that’s how I feel.

And that’s what matters.

That I feel this way. So I desire more warmth.

The fact that my attire is feminine, or that this body is female, or even that I can see both Joanna Smith and Rebecca Rolfe simultaneously, none of that matters.

So if the dark purple mist flowing from my body can turn into various things, that’s enough.

At least I won’t have to worry about what to wear anymore.

Sub Goal completed.

Now it’s time to return to the main goal of increasing harvesters.

Hieronymus hasn’t come yet, though it’s been a while since I woke up.

Shall I review what I know about Joanna Smith in the meantime?

The first harvester leveled up overnight. In terms of ranks, they’re now among the second circle I saw on the first day.

The room changed, objects changed, and through a clean mirror, Joanna fully confirmed her transformation. Without sleeping, she knelt down, hands clasped together, praying silently.

Then Hieronymus came in a little earlier.

He gave me the task of taking care of him, then led Joanna to a room, introducing it as the place where I would be cared for.

An empty room. But something odd catches Joanna’s gaze wherever she looks. It’s disguised as decoration in the room, but Joanna feels uneasy about it. Still, she doesn’t voice her concerns, quietly lowering her eyes instead, hiding feelings of anger and suspicion.

Whether Hieronymus noticed or not, nothing happened, and afterward, he returned with Joanna to me.

During that time, I waited patiently on the altar.

Hieronymus walked through a long corridor and opened the door to my room. At the same time, a large man with facial tattoos entered from the opposite side.

“Hello.”

So I greeted them first.

“Yes, hello. I’m unsure how your night went, but we’ve prepared a proper room to attend to you.”

Of course, he was watching, but there’s no need to ask. I stepped down from the altar and approached him.

“This body needs food. Biological bodies are strange, aren’t they?”

While asserting that I’m not human, I’m also saying I need to follow biological rules. Eating turns me into an animal that requires sustenance.

Perhaps it suggests the possibility that I can be killed. There was a faint flicker of malice in his expression.

Hehe.

Unfortunate souls will get to see the face of someone trying to kill them.

There are countless memories of reacting violently to such expressions. Too many to count.

Because I licked them all for their warmth.

“In that case, I’ll arrange for someone to take care of your meals. Please come with me, Miss Rebecca Rolfe.”

Shouldn’t I extend my hand here? But considering how drastically connected people can change, he probably doesn’t want to touch me.

I followed Hieronymus out of the special chapel.

According to Joanna Smith, this is where high-ranking members pray. It’s likely the place where Hieronymus trains his elites.

This cult’s ultimate tech might be here. Though, there’s a chance I’ll be exiled by Hieronymus before reaching it!

For now, he’s not my enemy.

Yet.

In a class-based society, there can only be one leader. To establish my heat-absorbing factory by multiplying harvesters, I’ll either have to recruit or eliminate whoever’s already in charge, right?

Fortunately, since this is a cult, there’s no guilt in killing someone, regardless of how they die.

Ordinary people might feel a little remorse.

But everyone here is evil anyway. Their pasts may be pitiful, but this was the only place they could belong.

Yes.

Even if you’re good and kind, please work for me because I’m cold.

Thinking that, Hieronymus and I stepped outside, where Joanna bowed hurriedly upon seeing me.

Without saying anything, she naturally attached herself to my back, and the three of us headed toward the room Hieronymus had prepared.

We encountered only five people on the way.

All were high-ranking officials from the first circle. Three men, one woman, and one beast-human hybrid with a dog-like appearance.

Doggo!

By the way, there are beast-human hybrids in this world. They’re not exactly an upper or lower class race; it’s more like the difference between Caucasians and African Americans in the world I know. Of course, discrimination exists.

That can’t not exist.

As long as you’re alive, distinguishing yourself from others is unavoidable.

It’s basically a fundamental program to differentiate between eater and eaten.

I have a desire to shove myself into one later and see how warm they are.

While thinking that, I entered the cage they called my room. Looking closely, ominous vibes emanate from something hanging on the ceiling.

This confirms Hieronymus is a potential enemy.

If I had trusted him more, I wouldn’t be this guarded.

But since he’s the type who would inflate this cult until he could summon me, I’ll stay cautious.

I sat on the luxurious sofa inside and spoke to Hieronymus.

“Bring me food. And I need warmth.”

“Warmth? Should I bring you some clothes?”

Joanna started walking toward a drawer nearby at my words but stopped because Hieronymus blocked her.

“You prepare the food. And the warmth she speaks of isn’t mere warmth. Show her directly.”

Joanna nodded and left, heading toward the kitchen. Before her skin swelled from fluid retention, she used to work in the dining hall.

Turning back to Hieronymus, it’s time to discuss our future plans.

“Hieronymus, can I use my power?”

To which Hieronymus replied:

“Yes. If you can, could you make as many as possible?”

Oh ho.

Here I’d love to shout “All of them!” but I’ll stretch this out a bit. I need time to explore this world step by step.

“I think I can make five or six people like Joanna per day. But if I’m unlucky, they might explode.”

Hieronymus thought deeply for a moment, then nodded as if finishing his calculations.

“Whenever I ask, please do that for me.”

“Yes. I will, Hieronymus.”

Harvester production plans are now set.

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