Chapter 203

“Wait, so you’re saying everything that’s happening now is tied to those three companies? The ones that trashed the city and had the army kill its own citizens?”

Polaris, I thought they’d suggest we retreat right away, but instead, they wanna know who the enemy is.

So I just nodded. Victoria did too—she knows thanks to Marquis Gaston.

But honestly, no need to spill it all. Everyone here already gets the gist of it.

Hehe.

There’s only one group left to shake things up now.

The Twilight Association.

If possible, I’ll make those religious types rethink their ways.

Why?

‘Cause I’m pissed. Do I need any other reason?

Of course, neither Victoria nor Polaris are probably thrilled about this meeting, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I’m gonna do what I want regardless of whether they follow or not.

And if Victoria wants to go back to Bern City later, better face this now—before her resentment hardens into pure hatred.

“Once we get back to the capital, there’s gonna be more work. So you’re saying all this chaos in the city ties back to those three companies covering up the incident in Bern City? Right?”

Polaris said that while looking at us expectantly.

“So, what exactly happened in Bern City that day?”

I glanced at Victoria. She’s deep in thought. Sure, I could explain, but revealing too much might put me at risk.

Even mentioning the company names could expose the fact that I somehow see through the Harvester’s perspective.

Sure, getting caught wouldn’t immediately doom me, but it could lead to trouble later. Best to keep quiet.

No big deal anyway.

“Let me fill you in.”

Victoria steps in. She explains everything to Polaris—what happened in Bern City, her deductions on the way here, and more.

Apparently, these three companies are operating as a single entity, hiding a fatal flaw in the mechanical systems.

If exposed, they’d face astronomical compensation costs. Imagine calculating the damage: lawsuits, recall expenses, and public image repair—it’d bankrupt them many times over.

That’s why they’re trying to rewrite history within two years.

She wrapped up her explanation and turned to me.

“Bell, what do you think?”

“I don’t really understand human stuff.”

Victoria gives me a skeptical look, but I stay cool. Honestly, I don’t know everything.

What I *do* know is that her theories aren’t hitting the mark.

Two years may seem like a long time, but it’s nowhere near enough to recall or replace all the broken machines already out there.

The spies embedded in the military were disposable pawns, paid to carry out orders without question.

How do I know?

Because everyone who tampered with the mechanical devices ended up dead—murdered by their own modified contraptions. Clever way to silence them, huh?

They were promised survival if they followed orders and even extra pay if no witnesses remained.

Each victim believed they’d walk away unscathed.

Why?

Because every single one of them was approached due to gambling debts—a shared weakness. Gamblers are brain-damaged addicts desperate for cash, making them easy tools.

Desperate people will do anything for money. They’re expendable once used.

Of course, some might be cautious.

In those cases, they’d give them small tasks first, building trust by paying them each time. Then, when it mattered most, they’d send them off thinking it was just another minor job.

It worked like a charm.

Not all spies became Harvesters, but the ones who did frequented the same casino before the Bern City incident.

Meaning—they knew it was coming.

This wasn’t a sudden reaction; it was a carefully planned operation.

Too meticulous, if you ask me.

Which makes me wonder: Is it really just about hiding flaws?

Something else feels off, though I don’t know what.

But does it matter? What matters is how much blood will spill because of it.

Just then, a hint popped up.

“Seriously? You’re risking the army just to cover up a defect? The risks outweigh the benefits, right?”

Polaris offers a different perspective.

“Maybe it’s because they’re global corporations. They can pull strings like that, right?”

Victoria asks, and I agree.

Big corporations often bend nations to their will, buying laws and standing above them.

But Polaris shakes their head.

“Know what happens in bigger cities? The defense forces grow stronger as the risks increase.”

Victoria looks confused.

“Shouldn’t bigger cities be safer with more people? Isn’t it just crowded and dangerous?”

Polaris shakes their head again, giving her an ‘are-you-serious?’ look before explaining.

“Imagine going to a restaurant. Would you choose one far away or the one right next door?”

Ah, got it. People gather where the food is good.

“But doesn’t that mean more guards too?”

“The bigger the monster, the better its feeding grounds.”

Victoria nods, finally understanding. Larger cities require stronger defense forces to handle bigger threats.

To simplify: A cucumber has less energy than chocolate cake. Energy equals flavor, right?

“So even if the companies succeed, survivors are inevitable. Look around. It’s almost over.”

Polaris points behind us. Soldiers are working in groups, dismantling the machines efficiently now. They’ve figured out how to disable the larger ones and rescue whoever’s inside.

Smaller machines are harder since their joints flail wildly, crushing their operators into mush.

Death comes from being torn apart, guilt over killing comrades, and despair from helplessness.

When a Harvester kills its pilot, warmth flows in along with fragmented memories. Even shattered, they fit together like puzzles.

As a result, most pilots in smaller machines died, while those in larger ones survived. The army now targets all mechanized units preemptively.

They’ve realized the machines themselves are dangerous.

If the enemy is linked to the mechanical industry, destroying them early is safer.

Though many have died, the army remains intact.

The fight will end soon.

Unless, of course, the enemies lurking nearby decide to massacre the survivors.

Oh, they’re definitely coming.

So I head toward them.

We’ll meet somewhere in the forest.

I speed up slightly to intercept closer to the forest edge.

“Bell? Why are you running all of a sudden?”

“You won’t get an answer anyway. Just follow, Polaris.”

Behind me, they chat.

See, outwardly I’m diligent. Diligently doing good deeds. Pretending to be kind. Carefully choosing words to shape perceptions.

I’m not particularly smart, so I avoid exposing weaknesses.

I don’t aim to live virtuously or wickedly. Ideally, people should coexist peacefully, exploiting resources indirectly while remaining blissfully ignorant.

That way, my share of warmth grows as humanity thrives.

Monolithic corporations, like those in the Third World, inevitably crush lives even if individuals within them mean well.

It’s the nature of the system.

So I don’t incite conflict. People naturally fight when given reasons.

Even if they doubt me, even if I mess up unknowingly, it’s fine. As long as I keep pretending to be good, they’ll trust me.

Stupid, right?

Yet it works.

Victoria and Polaris follow me despite knowing I have ulterior motives.

Hehe.

Finally, just in time.

We meet the Twilight Association before they enter the forest.

---