Chapter 18

Evening.

Joanna approached Hieronymus and requested a room with a window for me. In response, Hieronymus spent the late night searching for a decent room alongside Joanna.

And we found something interesting.

Joanna’s night vision is incredibly sharp.

This became clear when Hieronymus led us to check out a room. He was fumbling around as if it were pitch black, unable to see anything in the dark.

Yet it wasn’t *that* dark—a moonlit room bathed in soft light. Though technically, it wasn’t fully lit by moonlight since only a half-moon hung outside the window.

It wasn’t an overly bright night. Joanna, however, seemed prepared and quickly lit a small lantern upon realizing this.

I thought I knew everything, but there were still surprises. Comparing what I saw to Joanna’s memories, the world felt much brighter through her eyes. But I didn’t expect such a stark difference.

In other words, what I perceive may not always align with how others experience reality. This is something I need to be cautious about.

Just because I think I understand someone completely doesn’t mean I actually do. Looking at things from another person’s perspective reminds me that assuming total knowledge of someone can lead to mistakes. The moment I lose interest in understanding others might mark the point where I’ve forgotten this lesson.

After checking five rooms, we finally picked one. Joanna cleaned it herself, declining Hieronymus’ offer to send help.

She spent the entire night tidying up the place and fetching necessary items from the storage warehouse—all on her own. She even carried massive furniture like wardrobes and beds without breaking a sweat.

Isn’t she stronger than before?

By the time dawn broke, sunlight illuminated the newly cleaned room, reflecting off Joanna’s figure in a full-length mirror placed against the wall.

Through the light, Joanna’s memory revealed a distant past: a girl with purple hair, blue skin, pale amber eyes now turned yellow, and white scleras transformed into black—features drifting further away from human resemblance.

Was she reminiscing about those days?

Without showing any particular reaction, Joanna stared at the mirror for a while before resuming her movements. She then prepared breakfast—not just mine, but hers too. Surprisingly, she ate four times more than I did.

Not that I eat much; my stomach gets uncomfortable once it feels full, so I don’t force myself. Still, I wondered if I was eating too little, so I glanced at Rebecca Rolfe’s body lying asleep nearby.

She hadn’t grown thin after merely six days of reduced meals. If anything, she looked healthier. Before becoming an offering, she had been starved and chained for quite some time.

Of course, two days isn’t enough to make someone emaciated, though she was slightly thinner. Eventually, her heart was torn out using strange tools, leading to her death.

When I woke up next, I was inside her.

Regeneration happened. However, when I first entered her body, the sounds produced by human organs irritated me immensely. So I replaced her heart with something else.

Rebecca Rolfe’s heart no longer beats. Instead, a spherical mechanism connected to her veins rotates steadily, pumping blood efficiently.

It’s amazing this system works without issues. Or maybe her already fragile body relies on my presence to keep functioning. That’s a topic for later consideration.

Anyway, there’s no fixing it now, so let’s move on.

How much does my presence alter a human body? There’s so much left to learn.

Let me summarize:

Primary goal: Create Harvesting Systems.

Current count: Four units.

Future production planned.

Secondary goal: Evaluate enhancements provided by the Harvesters.

Improved vision, strength, endurance, regeneration, special flames.

These abilities must be tested gradually as each Harvester could potentially gain unique powers.

Next, my objectives regarding Future Hope Church:

Assess the relationship between Hieronymus and Andrew.

Is this a power struggle between the current leader and his ambitious second-in-command? Their history remains unclear, making it hard to judge.

I don’t care which side wins. If Hieronymus maintains control, he could direct Future Hope Church toward external conquests involving Harvesters. Alternatively, if Andrew splits the church, whoever gains my support will likely order mass production of Harvesters.

Hehe.

Creating Harvesters doesn’t seem to diminish my capabilities, meaning there might not be a population limit. Let’s produce as many as possible.

Of course, a third possibility exists, and I’m excited to see what happens.

As the sixth day approaches, Joanna enters.

“Good morning, Joanna.”

“Yes, good morning, Lady Rebecca.”

I get up, wash, eat, and change clothes. While I could summon dark purple mist to create outfits like before, I decided to hold off for now.

Using that ability too often might draw unwanted attention from Hieronymus.

Afterward, Joanna mentions moving to another room and asks if it’s okay to proceed immediately. I tell her to go ahead.

With a polite nod, she leaves the room.

Will she find Hieronymus despite not knowing his exact location?

Her steps are confident and unwavering.

How does she know where to go? Would analyzing her memories reveal Hieronymus’ whereabouts?

While pondering these questions, the door suddenly opens.

Did we cross paths? No…

A small girl stands in the doorway.

Well, compared to Hieronymus or even Joanna—who both tower over average women—this girl seems tiny. About my height, maybe shorter?

I recognize her name.

Thungkeschini.

She’s a petite silver-haired girl with a solemn expression etched onto her round face.

“Hello, Thungkeschuni.”

“A-ah, hi. Rebecca Rolfe.”

Clutching her cane tightly, she speaks. Her hand trembles slightly. She’s clearly terrified of me.

Why would she fear me? We haven’t done anything to warrant such apprehension. Could Hieronymus have mistreated her?

Without further information, it’s possible.

Still, considering our initial encounter, she seemed far too assertive to be a victim of abuse.

Standing up, I observe her reaction.

Thungkeschuni grips her cane even harder. A sinister aura emanates from within her pocket—not unlike my own energy, which bursts outward. Hers feels more contained, as though drawn from an internal reservoir.

Many fictional worlds feature concepts like mana cores or dantians where power is stored. Is this similar? Or perhaps it stems directly from her soul?

Though, given my current hypothesis equating souls with light, that seems unlikely here.

Regardless, she’s extremely tense. To ease the situation, I step back instead of approaching.

“What are you doing right now?”

Her voice wavers mid-sentence. Staying close to the wall, I glance at her cautiously.

“You’re afraid of me, Thungkeschuni.”

She flinches noticeably.

Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have revealed that insight so soon. Someone capable of reading emotions tends to inspire twice the fear compared to ordinary monsters.

Because they imply predictability in dealing with humans.

I want to comfort her, but maintaining the “pet monster” dynamic makes intellectual conversation difficult.

So I simplify things.

“So you avoided me?”

Thungkeschuni giggles nervously.

“No, it’s fine. From now on, I’ll take care of you too. I’ll try my best. Okay?”

Her forced laughter betrays genuine terror. What drives her to endure such fear?

There’s definitely a hidden agenda here.

If so, let’s exploit it.

Like an idiot, I decide to approach her.

“Smiling means you’re okay, right?”

Aware of her fear, I pretend indifference and inch closer. Let’s focus solely on appearances.

Closer… Her resolve strengthens with every step.

Despite dimmed radiance, her inner light remains impressively strong. Yet her warmth—or lack thereof—is unsettlingly low.

Perhaps I can extract more warmth from her. With this opportunity presenting itself, why not conduct an experiment?

I stop right in front of her, close enough to feel her breath.

Personal space exists around the head—an invisible boundary people instinctively respect. But I deliberately invade hers.

Naturally, Thungkeschuni panics. Confusion and tension intensify.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Now, what should I say? As a monster unfamiliar with human customs, I can afford to act rudely.

Extending my hand, I gently touch her cheek. Watching dark shadows ripple beneath her porcelain skin amuses me. Is she really that scared?

“Isn’t this what you do to children?”

“Ouch, who taught you that?”

“Rebecca Rolfe did.”

Since I’ve already hinted at possessing her memories, let’s stick with that narrative.

Gradually adapting to human norms…

“Aha, got it. That’s because it’s her body. Memories reside in the brain, after all. But I’m no child.”

“You’re short and have a proportionally large head.”

“It’s due to certain circumstances. Think of it as my body being permanently frozen in its youthful state.”

Ah, so she’s essentially an adult trapped in a childlike form. That much was expected ever since learning about her witch-like traits.

“Then is this action unnecessary?”

Hmm… Her cheeks are surprisingly soft. Perhaps her body truly remains perpetually young. Faint vibrations indicate potential discomfort, but I indulge a bit longer.

“Take your hand away. I don’t need that kind of treatment.”

By limiting herself specifically, she implies deeper intentions. Solving this puzzle, I retract my hand.

Thungkeschuni takes three steps backward, briefly touching her cheek before lowering her hand.

Then, with exaggerated flair, she bows deeply.

“From now on, I, Thungkeschuni, will assist you alongside the woman assigned to your care. Please treat me well, Rebecca.”

“Thank you, Thungkeschuni.”

I nod in acknowledgment. Pieces of the puzzle scatter across my mind. Time to analyze her thoughts carefully.

More entertainment never hurts.

Watching Hieronymus return with Joanna, I smile at the silver-haired girl standing beside me.

The game begins.

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