Chapter 140

The day after I started staying at Bet House…

Morning. After getting up and tidying inside, when I went outside, Beatrice was sleeping with her head on the table.

It’s still dawn, the air outside the window thickly blue.

Looks like the pile of documents she probably finished is towering to the right, while there are only a few sheets left on the left.

I approached Beatrice.

“Wake up. You need to finish working.”

“You’re such an annoying little thing.”

With a voice that sounded like it was glued to the floor, Beatrice spoke. She woke up.

Judging from her tone, it doesn’t seem like my voice woke her. Did the sound of me coming down wake her?

“Didn’t you almost finish?”

“Yeah, almost done.”

Beatrice got up from her seat. Since she didn’t look groggy, she must have been lightly dozing off—or maybe she couldn’t sleep because of me.

Stretching, Beatrice walked past me into the kitchen-like area and opened something resembling a fridge to check inside.

The difference from a regular fridge? No freezer compartment.

By Victoria’s knowledge, refrigeration alone can maintain the level of freshness that freezing usually does.

But the issue here is that it’s completely empty. After closing the door, Beatrice filled a kettle with water to boil.

During this time, her gaze swept around a few times before landing near the gun close to the table. Let’s call those quick eye movements “flirtatious.”

Anyone would be cautious if an unknown visitor were inside.

It’s surprising that coffee exists in this world too. Some places grind leaves, others stems, and some even grind beans.

There’s coffee here as well. Victoria dislikes it because it turns sour when brewed, so she doesn’t know much about it.

Beatrice made it though.

“Here, drink up.”

“Thank you.”

As she handed me the cup and placed hers on the table, let’s also call her natural act of grabbing the gun “flirtatious.”

Beatrice perched herself on the table.

Seemed like she had something to say, so I waited. After drinking her coffee and waiting for what felt like ages, she finally spoke—she hadn’t fully shaken off her drowsiness yet.

“Why did you come for my daughter?”

In other words, she’s now fully awake.

“Victoria Bet. She just had bad luck. She was accidentally kidnapped, injected with a serum turning her into a monster, woke up, and by chance managed to resist. She was flailing around without realizing it was already over.”

Even though she killed several Sahaquins, since that meant equally powerful kin were born, they didn’t care about their deaths.

“If she hadn’t met me, she might’ve either died with the monsters there or completely become one of them.”

Victoria slightly concealed parts of her story. Since everything turned out fine anyway, she framed it as a somewhat dangerous adventure.

“But she was truly unfortunate. Meeting me, she avoided death and gained the ability to survive. As a result, she ultimately lived.”

Beatrice tapped her cup a few times with her finger and looked at me with an odd expression.

“Why do you call that unfortunate?”

So, I replied like this.

“I don’t lie.”

Meaning I won’t answer.

Still cloaked in the shadows of this dim place, Beatrice narrowed her pupils and aimed a small revolver directly at me.

“If anything happens to my daughter, you’ll never die easily.”

I thought about mocking her by saying “If you can kill me,” but it seemed like that wouldn’t threaten her at all, so I decided to bother her another way.

“If you’re going to say things like that, make sure the pantry is stocked when your kid comes back. It looks pretty empty. Isn’t there a store that opens early nearby?”

Beatrice flinched as if I’d hit a sore spot and carefully lowered her gun.

“No, I didn’t expect this task to take so long. I originally planned to finish last night.”

She made excuses while avoiding my gaze. Of course, I knew she spent quite a bit of time listening to Victoria’s story yesterday.

Logically, I should’ve accepted her explanation, but to divert attention from the danger I posed, I kept pressing.

“Do you feed your kid? Isn’t that why you work?”

She hung her head, seemingly deep in thought. I gulped down the strange liquid in my teacup and pointed at the remaining papers with my finger.

“Your kid will be happy waking up in the morning to see her mom working all night, right? Finish quickly.”

With a troubled expression, Beatrice nodded and got down from the table, sitting properly.

She started tapping something that looked like a calculator while checking documents. They’re incomprehensible to me.

So, I left the hardworking Beatrice alone and compared Victoria’s memories with the surroundings.

Not much has changed. If I move toward the living room, there’s a video receiver hidden inside a cabinet.

It’s too archaic to be called a TV. I briefly considered turning it on after opening it, but since someone is working, I decided to leave it alone.

I’ll have Victoria turn it on when she has free time later.

I just sat on the couch in the middle of the living room. Outside, the sun gradually brightened, dawn faded, and morning arrived.

There was a similar time before. What did I do then?

Ah. Besides worrying with Soo-oh about breakfast preparations, there wasn’t much else. Other than being observed by the Harvester’s perspective, that is.

This seems to be an era where group power outweighs individual strength, which explains those five people.

They don’t wield their desires recklessly.

The first man I chose as a Harvester: Reason Brutal. He led the rest of them, disembarking at the port after we landed.

Originally, he was supposed to return home after getting injured in a construction accident, but he decided not to pass up the opportunity.

For now, the world may seem good. Perhaps they could perform acts of kindness then.

However, all five are capable of easily trampling on others. Some left home simply because they disliked daily labor jobs, while others lost their villages due to monsters and no longer had anywhere to return to.

Some fled massive debts at home, and others survived through pickpocketing.

With both their bodies and minds enhanced, they’ll soon feel it’s a waste to live this way.

Though they banded together, it feels like they suddenly contracted middle school syndrome when they formed the Twilight Association.

Indeed.

When will they break apart and go their separate ways, or degenerate into a violent gang preying on others? It’s intriguing to watch.

Of course, killing someone will inevitably happen during a fight with someone else. The problem is that murder is a strict crime in this world.

Certainly, it often happens on the outskirts of cities, but at least not within city limits.

Will they live long enough to give much warmth, or will they briefly provide warmth before disappearing? Who knows.

If the opportunity arises, it might be fun to increase the number of Harvesters.

While planning future tasks ahead of time, I waited for Victoria.

And the sun rose completely, making the day scorching hot.

Eventually, Beatrice approached me as I sat there idly.

“My kid doesn’t seem like she’ll get up anytime soon. Want to go grocery shopping together?”

“Sure.”

I nodded and stood up.

Then, glancing down at my attire, I noticed an issue and asked Beatrice.

“Is this outfit okay?”

Last night.

Big Victoria said it was pajamas and gave me this thin pink garment. Thinking no one would go out dressed like this, I asked Beatrice, who scanned me up and down, told me to wait, and left her seat.

After a short while.

She returned carrying a large but light box and placed it in front of me.

A box labeled with Victoria’s name.

In short, it contained clothes from her childhood.

“There are plenty of clothes.”

“Let’s pick something appropriate to wear.”

Most of these are outfits Victoria once wore. Since I have no resistance to wearing clothes others have worn, I picked out something suitable.

“Let’s try on a few first.”

At that moment, Beatrice suggested this, and thinking it would be rude to just throw them on haphazardly, I nodded.

I shouldn’t have.

Long after lunchtime passed, by the time Victoria yawned and came downstairs complaining of hunger, I had to keep changing outfits.

Am I forgetting that I’m a monster?

“Mom, what are you doing?”

“You’re awake? I’m picking out clothes for Bell.”

“That’s my clothes, Mom!”

“Is there a problem?”

Oh yeah, I forgot that the person giving the clothes might dislike it.

The only issue is that it tweaks what I’ve been wearing. After trying on dozens of outfits, I roughly grasped the style.

It’s probably a bit outdated for the current era, but since it’s not mine, it should be fine.

“This is such a fun thing, why didn’t you call me, Mom!”

“Who told you to sleep in so late?”

“Ehehe, it’s vacation, cut me some slack! So, what did you try on?”

Naturally approaching Beatrice, Victoria picked up a few outfits.

“Oh, this is one I liked but couldn’t wear because it made my chest look big. Let’s try this on you, Mom.”

“You looked messy in that… Hmm, true. Bell could probably pull it off.”

I guess I’ll continue to be a doll having clothes changed here.

Personality-wise, I’m a monster obsessed with warmth, next comes the man in faded memories, followed by the human mimicking consciousness. Personality-wise, I lean closer to male.

Despite expecting discomfort throughout, seeing myself through Victoria’s eyes made me feel none of it.

Until the midpoint between noon and evening mealtime, I kept changing outfits.

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