Chapter 148

King Haipion and Prince Solindiges even came, along with a princess named Lunari, to celebrate Aurora waking up.

I didn’t see it myself because after Aurora woke up, I was practically forced to return to my location.

But since I can see through Aurora’s eyes, I knew what was going on, so it wasn’t much of an issue.

There, I heard a story Aurora didn’t know—something about how she became weakened due to a witch’s curse.

Apparently, this curse was placed on her the day she was born.

That thin resistance? Turns out it was part of a contract with the witch. At least compared to when I entered Choseol’s body, it was way weaker than Daegon’s resistance.

Looking back through Daegon’s memories, the day I entered Choseol’s body…

When my connection with Daegon was severed, he didn’t feel a thing. He only found out later, when he discovered through Hematoma Mystic Art that something else had taken over his body.

I tried searching for clues but couldn’t find any in my glowing memories.

Whenever memories shine, it’s like they’re reflecting knowledge—if there’s something relevant, they light up saying, “Hey, I know this!”

Here’s where intelligence becomes an issue.

I can’t deduce new facts from the knowledge I have. With the memories of Daegon and the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign, I should be able to explain most phenomena, right?

But all I can do is acknowledge what I already know.

I can’t prepare ahead; I can only react after something happens.

If only I were smarter…

While I was lost in thought…

Suddenly, King Haipion summoned the Harvesting System to the capital.

I thought it was for another experiment, but surprisingly, he gathered people at the broadcasting station and conducted interviews one by one.

Not about the incident in Bern City, but about me.

From pale-skinned people to blue-skinned ones, everyone…

And soon enough, a documentary about me aired across the entire kingdom—not just on TV, but also in newspapers distributed with the interview content on the front page.

Heh, it’s awesome.

It’s better this way. Instead of being labeled a divine miracle, it says I revived using special psychic abilities, which changed my hair and skin color.

Now I’ve laid the groundwork for when I create Harvesters in this world without causing rejection.

In the second world, Harvesters were public enemies, but in the third world, they’re seen as those who bring life back from the brink of death.

Especially since I’d already been perceived as someone who saved lives while wandering around Bern City, combining these impressions created a very positive image for me.

I’m happy, sure, but I wondered why such information was being widely spread. I thought hiding healing abilities would benefit rulers more, as monopolies tend to attract criticism.

I realized the reason toward the end of summer.

Princess Aurora officially announced that she regained her health thanks to my abilities.

Her beautiful blonde hair turned purple, her skin became blue, but the royal family declared she had recovered her health. They also mentioned that I was the one who healed her, linking her recovery to the events in Bern City.

That’s when I understood why they advertised the Harvester.

They wanted to show that Princess Aurora’s strange appearance wasn’t abnormal—it was the result of being revived.

By highlighting the Harvester’s good deeds in Bern City and advertising its ability to revive people across the kingdom, everything was done for Princess Aurora’s sake.

Hmm, makes sense.

At least, judging from the perspective of 9,000+ Harvesters, there are many races in this country, but none with blue skin.

Even if other countries might have them, as far as the Harvesters know, such people don’t exist here.

Blue skin is too alien to pass off as normal—it resembles decayed corpses or argyria, where silver poisoning turns the skin blue, giving it an ominous vibe.

Had Princess Aurora appeared alone, people would’ve made weird comments. Her value as a princess would’ve dropped like someone disfigured by smallpox.

But now public opinion has shifted.

She’s not just someone who benefited from a miracle; she’s part of a group rewarded for doing good deeds—even though there’s no real causal relationship. Isn’t that how groups usually work?

And then the nation held a festival. The king emptied the treasury to provide food and drink—a way to solidify the positive image, probably.

By the time the festival ended and summer was completely over, I was dragged to the Royal Academy.

***

“Bell!”

“Hello.”

On my first day of transfer, I stood dazed in what was supposed to be my classroom when Victoria spotted me and ran over. She also started attending the Royal Academy today.

“It’s been so long, but you’re so cold…”

“Since we formed our contract, you’ve never been apart from me for even a moment.”

Since I can see through Victoria’s perspective, I’ve never truly left her view.

At my words, Victoria hugged me tightly.

The gazes of others fell upon us.

Not just one or two—nearly every student watched.

Their expressions ranged from admiration to disdain, forming a wide spectrum.

There are many high-ranking individuals here, meaning they’re likely potential Harvesters.

As I pondered how to act, a teacher-like figure entered and began class without introduction. It seems this place cares little about students, functioning more like a university than a public school.

Class happened twice, each lasting two hours—one in the morning, another after lunch.

After the afternoon session ended, Victoria grabbed my hand and led me outside.

We walked down the main road leading from the academy building shaped like a “D” toward the main gate, then turned right near the entrance.

Far in the distance, the dormitories came into view. Clearly, Victoria intended to take me there.

Following her stiff, silent demeanor, I headed toward her room.

Upon arrival, Victoria locked the door and let out a deep breath.

“Phewww. That was scary.”

She stumbled toward the bed and flopped down.

“What’s scary?”

Though I don’t recall seeing fear in her expression earlier…

“There were so many people I couldn’t even talk to! And they’re all nobles—people from a completely different world than mine. Super intimidating!”

Even though she wields Sahaquin, a deadly tool, she seems scarier than those around her.

Besides, her current “fear” feels more like annoyance at avoiding trouble rather than genuine dread.

“If you hadn’t helped people, you wouldn’t have ended up here.”

Before resentment could turn toward me later, I preemptively warned her. Knowing Victoria, she’ll deny it.

“That’s true. If I hadn’t moved back then, I probably would’ve returned to the Clockwork Knight School by now. Yeah.”

With a perfectly clear face, she looked at me and spoke.

“But I don’t regret it. Even if I went back, I’d still save people.”

Yes, I know.

That’s who Victoria is—at least for now. Will helping others last forever? Probably not. Even if she’s resilient to pain, it doesn’t mean she can endure indefinitely. Recalling the students’ expressions during class, the chances of Victoria being bullied seem high.

So before things get worse, I need to distance myself from responsibility early.

“Are you giving up on being a clockwork knight?”

“No. I found out there are classes here too. I plan to go that route.”

I already knew that. But Maurice added this: it’s less about learning to become a clockwork knight and more about training leaders who manage clockwork knights.

It’s about adopting a manager’s perspective, not a technician’s.

So her declaration is just bravado—and if she boasts, she must bear the consequences. That’s Victoria.

“I’m relieved.”

Victoria smiled awkwardly at my words. As expected, she’s kind-hearted, considering others’ feelings like this.

Even if she breaks later, her frustration will likely be directed elsewhere.

“Speaking of which, Bell, how about you? You treated the princess at the royal palace, right? Did you meet her? What’s she like?”

Victoria changed the subject.

At the royal palace, I was technically a guest but treated more like a tool. I didn’t mention this—not to worry Victoria, but because it involves personal bias.

My perception of being disregarded.

It’s not yet time to reveal my subjective views. Because once I do, people will focus on dealing with me instead of whoever’s manipulating me.

Being objective and moving like an object keeps attention on those pulling the strings rather than me.

Easy mode is preferable.

I can’t guarantee I’ll catch every deception aimed at me, even as a Harvester.

If Harvesters had brainwashing abilities or unconditional affection features, that’d be great—but alas, no such function exists.

So I proceed carefully, step by step.

Time is on my side.

Drawing from my experience in the second world, I try not to shrink back excessively while also taking bold steps. Balancing is tough, but I’ll give it a shot—it’s my homework.

“I don’t know. I only met her briefly and spent the rest of the time locked in a room at the palace.”

Considering how rarely visitors changed—maybe once every three days—it’s clear they had malicious intent.

Even surrounded by people, isolation breeds loneliness, which easily drains vitality.

It creates perfect conditions for gaslighting.

It’s similar to how pseudo-religions force members to proselytize in crowded train stations. Their true aim isn’t conversion but humiliation.

Proselytizers face rejection and ridicule, planting seeds of worthlessness and failure.

Returning empty-handed, they’re scolded for failing, crushing their self-esteem and leaving them mentally exhausted. This paves the way for dependency on the pseudo-religion.

Give and take.

Isolate, then make dependent.

A common method used by rulers to create obedient underlings.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense since it’s the royal palace. I thought you’d meet princes and stuff, but I suppose not.”

“We exchanged greetings, but that was it. We didn’t even exchange names.”

“Wow, that’s kinda rough.”

Victoria sat down, tapping the spot beside her. Once I joined her, she began recounting recent events—how lots of people visited the broadcasting station, how she was invited to the royal palace but couldn’t meet me, and how strange visitors kept coming afterward.

She mentioned Maurice getting fired from his company, how the family hugged and cried over it, and how they eventually moved after someone broke into their home.

It’s sad. Poor Maurice.

If only he hadn’t clung to his humanity, he’d likely still be thriving at the company.

They moved to the outskirts of Bern City. To put it in faded memory terms, it’s like moving from Seoul to Gyeonggi Province.

Many victims of the Bern City incident settled there.

Which means plenty of Harvesters live there too.

If focusing on one target becomes dangerous, dispersing targets is a smart move. Good choice on their part.

Thinking about when I should hear more details, I spent time listening to Victoria share her stories.

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