Chapter 164

Victoria and I stopped by her dormitory before heading out.

We walked straight along the road leading from the main gate. Towering mansions stood on either side, but as we kept going, they gradually became smaller until we reached a row of shops.

This was a route Victoria took every three days, so she knew it like the back of her hand.

Actually, any road frequented by the Harvesting System feels familiar—it’s just that simple.

Following Victoria, I already knew where we were headed even before we arrived. The delicious scent wafting through the air gave it away, and people passing by had food in their hands.

The place we arrived at was an alley packed with restaurants.

Back when I attended the Clockwork Knight School, this wasn’t exactly unfamiliar territory. Even though I didn’t lack friends, I’d often come here for fun. After gaining psychic abilities, my appetite tripled—if anything, it consumed ridiculous amounts of energy.

Let me clarify: my powers don’t create something from nothing—they still require immense caloric input. Sure, the output far exceeds what goes in, but magic works the same way.

With a wide grin, Victoria dashed into the alley.

I followed her inside… only to immediately feel countless eyes on me. They brimmed with curiosity, jealousy, hatred, interest—a mix of emotions swirling together.

Do I look that strange?

“Wow, you didn’t intentionally dress like that, did you? That outfit—normal people would find it hard to wear!”

Merriweather, standing beside me, pointed below my neck while speaking with a smile. But her probing gaze betrayed her intentions. As someone from the intelligence division, understanding my likes and dislikes is second nature to her.

Collecting such details to analyze someone is called profiling—a way of “cooking” people into easier-to-understand forms.

It makes me uncomfortable because everyone has secrets they don’t want exposed.

Speaking of which, regarding my attire…

Now that I think about it, there *is* a difference. Even though this neighborhood isn’t extravagant, the fabric quality varies significantly.

For me, clothes are just clothes, but people tend to dress according to their status. Just take Kanna, who knows all kinds of fabrics and how they’re used in clothing. Not only does she know the types, but she also memorizes which ones fit certain situations, times, and positions.

Clothing plays a crucial role in human culture—it’s a means of self-expression and understanding others.

Though I might use it if necessary, that’s usually reserved for wielding influence outside.

Besides, with someone like Merriweather guarding me, who’d dare do more than petty theft around here? Thinking that, I approached Victoria, who was already stuffing her face with food bought earlier.

“Bell, do you want some?”

“I don’t eat much.”

“That’s true. You barely ate anything back home too. Hmm… Is that why you’re… short? No, not really short, right?”

Mid-sentence, she seemed to recall our first meeting.

“If Bell weren’t small, would that be weird?”

Merriweather chimed in from the side.

“This kid… Wasn’t she about 25 feet tall when we first met? It’s strange now, isn’t it? What was it again? Oh yeah, she said her current body resembles the one she used before… Wait, why am I even saying this?”

Victoria quickly covered her mouth, glancing at me nervously. I shrugged indifferently, though I couldn’t sense anything unusual. However, Merriweather might possess skills that loosen tongues—even outside the Royal Academy.

If she can manipulate perception both indoors and outdoors, then maybe she has tools hidden within her body?

That kind of technology is tempting. Mind-affecting techniques have countless applications, yet knowing someone could use them against you is unsettling. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Even if I obtained Merriweather’s memories, chances are I’d only learn how to operate her devices—not how to make them.

So, patience is key. I’ll act dumb for now, letting suspicions fade until they decide to exploit me. It’s the only method I’ve ever succeeded with.

Yes.

I’m confident it’ll work.

“To answer your question, Victoria—I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m a monster.”

I casually replied to Merriweather’s inquiry. While sharing specific numbers might reduce the concept of ‘monster’ to mere objects, it’s technically true.

“By the way, Victoria, didn’t Beatrice scold you last time for eating too much?”

“Well, this is a rare occasion, so it’s fine! Besides, my psychic abilities prevent me from gaining weight!”

She clutched the box of fried food tightly, making sure I couldn’t see inside.

“Oh, so you don’t gain weight, huh?”

“What, you don’t believe me? Watch this.”

As Victoria spoke, tiny droplets appeared in midair. They moved around, forming intricate patterns before spelling out the word “Mali.” Then, with a soft hiss, the moisture evaporated, leaving the air dry.

“This always leaves me starving afterward.”

Victoria uses this ability daily—especially during morning and evening routines or other everyday activities.

“Wow! You really aren’t using any mana at all? How is that possible? It shouldn’t be feasible… Strange…”

Merriweather stared intently at where the droplets had vanished. Her pupils remained fixed, suggesting she might actually see mana with her eyes.

A powerful wizard?

Or perhaps another form of reality-warping ability. The possibility grows that her skills are innate rather than relying on special tools. Still, it seems odd—an elite mage working as an intelligence agent?

Hmm…

Maybe this kingdom deserves higher evaluation.

According to Daegon’s standards for evaluating civilizations, this world proves surprisingly advanced. Of course, compared to his elite forces, they’re no match—but there’s a catch.

In this world, nature dominates over civilization, teeming with monsters beyond even Daegon’s vanguard team’s capabilities.

Put simply, humanity thrives despite coexisting with these monstrous beings.

While analyzing this won’t change much now, I plan to keep doing it. Eventually, it might prove useful.

I’m diligent like that.

Meanwhile, Victoria continued munching happily, ignoring Merriweather’s muttering. She offered me some food, but I declined.

Shifting my gaze to avoid awkwardness, I noticed intermittent stares directed my way. Some were curious, others concerned. When I caught sight of worry in those gazes, I looked up at the sky instead.

There are good people, bad people, and most fall somewhere in between—that’s the world I know. And based on past experiences, humanity provides enough warmth to sustain me.

Looking down again, the bustling alley filled with delicious aromas greeted me. Such places rarely attract troublemakers—they’re still under the influence of public authority.

Then I spotted someone approaching with hostility.

A child roughly my size—or perhaps three to five years younger than Victoria—accompanied by an adult male nearby, sharing the same hostile expression. Their resemblance wasn’t facial but emotional; both stared daggers at me.

The man feigned looking elsewhere while walking toward me, pretending he hadn’t noticed my height. He swayed slightly, preparing to collide—but instead brushed past me.

Seizing the moment, the child lunged forward, grabbing one of my precious metal buttons.

Thud.

Suddenly, the button fell to the ground, cleanly severed.

“Nope. Can’t let you do that, kiddo.”

Blood trickled from the cut.

“Aaaahhh!”

Ignoring the child’s cries of pain, Merriweather lifted the severed hand high for everyone to see.

“As part of my duty as a bodyguard, stealing won’t be tolerated.”

She proudly displayed the evidence, extracting the stolen button with exaggerated movements before presenting it to me.

“I may have failed to stop the theft in time, but here’s the item back. Please inspect it.”

I accepted the button.

Silence enveloped the area. Only the sound of the injured child clutching their bleeding wrist broke the quiet.

The man who blocked my path disappeared the instant the child screamed, confirming this was premeditated.

Such unfortunate incidents happen often—and this counts as proper justice from those in power.

I accepted the button.

“Yes, thank you.”

What about the torn fabric? As I pondered this, Victoria stormed over, her face flushed with anger.

“Merriweather! Cutting off a child’s hand is too cruel!”

Standing face-to-face with Merriweather, Victoria glared defiantly, ready to fight.

“But according to strict national law, thieves—regardless of age—have their wrists cut off.”

Merriweather tilted her head innocently, questioning Victoria’s outrage.

Then, with slow, deliberate steps, she approached Victoria, lifting her chin teasingly.

“Or could there be another reason you brought Bell here today?”

Ah, I recognize this tactic. Sowing doubt.

They’re trying to isolate me. Finally, the royal family plans to utilize me, it seems.

Heheh. Laughing quietly, I decided to play along and side with Merriweather.

“You’re right, Victoria.”

I scooped up the crying child, whose weight barely reached 50 pounds in local units. Lifting them by their shoulders, I raised them high despite their pained groans.

Positioning the child directly in front of Victoria, I asked calmly:

“What should we do with this?”

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