Chapter 157

Late afternoon.

I should’ve gone back to my original lodging, but right now, I’m heading to the castle surrounded by soldiers.

First, they were extremely courteous in inviting me, but sending this many soldiers means they probably wanted to make sure I didn’t run away.

Not that I planned to escape anyway—it was unnecessary.

We go around the wall from the main gate of the Royal Academy. The grounds of the Royal Palace and the Royal Academy are adjacent, but there’s no direct passage between them.

In fact, a heavily fortified military zone lies between the Royal Palace and the Royal Academy. So walking through the main gate takes quite a bit of time.

That’s what “walking” means, though. I’m actually riding toward the royal castle.

By the way, it’s a limousine-like vehicle. The power source seems related to magic power, but overall usage is similar—there are wheels, a cockpit, and seating space.

When I think of royalty, carriages come to mind, but here, they use vehicles.

Carriages pulled by animals do exist in this world, though—they’re just used outside the city or in the slums.

Of course, I saw the slums I visited earlier. There were only cargo carriages, not ones for people.

After entering the castle, I was soon led to a certain room.

It’s where King Haipion conducts his work.

“Hello.”

“So formal even now. Well, come and sit down.”

The king pointed at the table in front of him, so I went over and sat down.

A flicker of disdain crossed the king’s face. Sitting first is considered rude, but Aurora’s memories contain information about such etiquette, so I could follow it—if I wanted to.

Because, realistically, I wouldn’t have had the time to learn all this given the circumstances.

Assuming every meeting is under surveillance, I simply didn’t have time to learn these things. Knowing them would be stranger.

So when I sat first and looked up at him, he eventually came and sat as well.

By the way, he doesn’t wear his emotions on his face easily.

If I hadn’t been good at reading human emotions—thanks to the vivid memories of the deceased—I wouldn’t have noticed the subtle changes in his expression.

But those memories make me hypersensitive to others’ feelings, dissecting and illuminating each one with clarity.

What does that tell me?

Right now, he feels displeasure looking at me.

“Yesterday, you healed many people. But the Brightshin slums? That’s a dangerous place, isn’t it? At least inform someone before going to such areas.”

“Brightshin slums?”

So that’s the official name. I wasn’t sure which title was correct since the Harvesting System has so many aliases.

At first glance, it sounds like concern, but he isn’t worried about me at all.

Rather, it’s irritation about why I moved without permission. It’s unlikely I went silently to such a place.

“Yes, understood.”

Since the number of Harvesters in Bern City decreased after an incident, visiting other places might be an option, so I nodded readily.

“If you get hurt, it would be a big problem, wouldn’t it?”

He adds this as if it just occurred to him. Of course, there’s no real worry in his tone—it’s purely lip service. Hmm?

Here, agreeing would just repeat past mistakes.

This time, I’ll push things slightly further.

“Actually, I’m pretty hard to kill. Whether it’s losing an arm, having my heart pierced, or even getting decapitated…”

I point at my head while saying this.

“This is just a simple meat container.”

I’m emphasizing that I’m not human. By showing I’m not human, I want them to treat me like an object. People find it easier to be cruel to non-human entities.

Once I become something easy to manipulate, I can delve deeper into their innermost thoughts. It’s a tactic used by false religions to cling to power.

“I know your dirty secrets. Confide in me, and I’ll help you. Your desires will be fulfilled.”

Empathy is key.

And secondly…

Sorindiges told me this.

There’s a witch who cursed this royal family, and upon realizing the curse was broken, she might attack me.

They’ll use me as bait.

Oh, wait. Now that I think about it, someone from the royal family might’ve followed me when I went to the slums. Given my limited memory, I couldn’t spot them among the crowd.

There are a few relevant individuals, but my knowledge isn’t extensive enough to identify them immediately.

Meanwhile, they’re busy measuring physical abilities at the lab, attaching various devices to bodies for tests. Through them, I learned how much stronger the Harvesters become.

One patient was particularly high-ranking, so I was lucky to see the results.

Their physical abilities improved more than twice the average.

However, their magic power didn’t increase.

But their skill in controlling magic did improve.

Probably due to enhanced intelligence. This world hasn’t developed technology to measure intellect yet.

Anyway, to summarize, I’ve seen firsthand how the Harvesting System works.

It’s important to act according to facts rather than fabricate lies.

“So far, based on what I know, I’m impossible to kill.”

Meaning: feel free to use me to contact the witch.

The king stares at me intently.

“Why did you go to the slums to heal them? Until now, you’ve done absolutely nothing, haven’t you?”

He skips asking if I’m human, which is a boring question anyway.

Right. He must already recognize me as some kind of monster.

“There were the most people who needed me there. Many couldn’t do what they wanted.”

People who chase faint glimmers of hope like fools.

People who lack the capacity to hold onto any calm.

The king asks me:

“What do they wish for?”

That’s the wrong question.

“What they *want* to do.”

To which I answer:

“You sound like an ancient deity from old tales. A god who appears to deeply despairing people and grants them strength for vengeance. And that god is often depicted in purple. Same everywhere.”

Ah, yes.

Here it is. Almost every world has traces left by me. The remnants from the days when I hunted light close to the surface.

“Is that you?”

Both correct and incorrect answers exist.

“I’m not a god. I’m not omnipotent. Instead, I’m a monster filled with deficiencies.”

Thus, call falsehoods what they are: falsehoods.

Cover it with the word “monster.” How will Haipion react to this answer?

“Alright then, let me rephrase: Are you the monster who finds deeply despairing people and grants them strength for vengeance?”

Yeah, sharp thinking. Not swayed by wordplay. Is this guy really a king?

He cuts straight to the truth. Normally, people would assume I’m not a god by this point.

Let me clarify again.

“I don’t think about vengeance.”

Other than that, it’s accurate. An answer layered with meaning.

Haipion leans back in his chair, resting his eyes.

“Why have you appeared before us?”

An oddly knowledgeable tone. Does he know something?

I started worrying whether Haipion himself might become a Harvester.

If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve just played along and pressed buttons. That way, I might’ve gained more memories.

Too late for regrets now! Let’s boldly move forward in this world!

“The question is wrong. I only appear when someone calls me. That’s something I should ask instead.”

Simply put:

“Did someone summon me because they wanted to use me?”

You called me.

I passionately declare the desire that brought me here. Either way, I’m here because I was summoned. You can believe I came willingly or because I truly desired it—it doesn’t matter.

Ultimately, I just need warmth.

“You’re incredibly resolute. Perhaps the unnamed gods in mythology weren’t gods because they lacked names.”

Mythology?

Even scanning Aurora’s memories reveals no such myth. Only the faded myths of pantheons like the Hunting God, River God, and Pastoral God remain.

“There are gods. I’ve even been struck by one. But I’m not a god.”

The divine protector of the first world. Even direct attacks couldn’t touch me. Someday, I’d also like to gain its warmth. Daegon and the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign might count as gods, but since they lost warmth to me, let’s consider them non-divine.

Because true divinity demands greatness.

Omniscient. Capable of anything. I’m neither omniscient nor omnipotent.

Therefore, I’m not a god.

“Can monsters even defeat gods?”

“Yes. I couldn’t reach them. I just got thrashed.”

Still, I took the world’s warmth. But defeat is still defeat.

I’m not stupid enough to deny my losses. Acknowledge defeat and strategize accordingly.

“You seem intent on painting everyone with your color.”

“Incorrect. I can’t handle that many people. Lacking the ability, I’ll only give myself to those who seek me.”

Handling too many people is beyond the world’s capacity, and maintaining a world with too many people is unsustainable.

But that’s just a partial omission of the truth. Enough to be understood as a moderately capable monster.

“What if I forbid you from using your abilities?”

“Are we talking about a contract?”

I asked absentmindedly at the opportunity that presented itself. Clearly, King Haipion knows something.

Over 20,000 Harvesters have already been created.

Even if it takes 200 years, it’s fine not to create more Harvesters during that time.

By the time the contract ends, he’ll surely beg me to create more Harvesters, so forbidding me now could work as a condition for the contract.

For Aurora’s sake.

“No, never mind. Since you’re merely granting your gifts to those who desire them, I, as someone who benefits, shouldn’t interfere.”

I thought he’d impose more restrictions for the sake of the nation, but maybe it’s because I said I couldn’t handle too many people?

If there are limits, I’ll control myself accordingly. If he leaves me alone, I understand.

Given the atmosphere, it’s disappointing, but there will be another chance.

Time is on my side, so I’ll patiently wait for the next opportunity. Since I’ve succeeded with this technique before, I trust I’ll do well again.

Afterward, we transitioned to casual conversation.

How’s life at the Royal Academy? What do you usually do?

King Haipion asked, and I answered. He gave me a chance to ask questions, but I said I had none.

Pretending I have zero interest.

It’s easiest to hunt when the prey doesn’t realize there’s a hunter nearby. Of course, he thinks he’s the hunter, but there could be a twist where he’s the hunted.

We’ll deal with that when it comes.

Both of us have plenty of secrets, and time is abundant.

Finally, the king sent me back to my living quarters, mentioning that a bodyguard would be assigned to me.

A bodyguard…

I wonder how well I’ll get along with Victoria.

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