Chapter 238

In the Third World, winter swiftly passed.

As winter went on, the number of raiders visible to the Harvesting System traveling around the entire country seemed to decrease.

And this wasn’t because the situation was improving—it meant that those who had turned to banditry just to survive were dying off.

So relatively, the law and order were slowly getting better.

Because of this, more people started doing transport jobs again. Though it wasn’t fully back to normal, society had recovered quite a bit.

But now, the people of this country faced a new problem.

It was the refugees who had fled from other countries just to survive.

The Harvesting System also eats and drinks, so they visit restaurants or bars. That’s where they naturally pick up on the gossip about how the world is changing.

They say there’s been an increase in people who don’t speak the local language well after coming over from other countries.

Already, we barely have enough food for ourselves, and job opportunities have drastically decreased—but these newcomers are taking those spots. There were complaints like that.

Or stories claiming they were grouping together to form new violent gangs.

Issues from the world of Faded Memory were reappearing.

The more Connected Society becomes, the more when one nation falters, the whole world feels its impact. Although this world still has a low level of connectivity, so if one nation wobbles, it won’t shake everything too much…

There are three megacorporations that span multiple nations—supranational enterprises.

I can’t predict the future with my own head, but I can analyze the current situation to some extent. With the premise that my analysis could be wrong at any time, this is just playtime.

Until the Harvester sends me Warmth in the future, this is just something to pass the time.

***

It’s spring in the Fourth World.

In other words, it’s been quite some time since I arrived here.

But my situation hasn’t changed much.

Sometimes, my blindfold loosens, and I turn the humans used for experiments into Harvesters. Then I’m steeped in pleasure afterward.

It’s incredibly monotonous.

Which makes me wonder—if this is all it takes for a Demon to fall, did something else happen first?

Maybe it got served somewhere else first, losing its flavor along the way? While mocking my predecessors, I reflect on the recent dissatisfaction I’ve felt.

Fewer Harvesters are being made.

Even though making Harvesters involves experimenting briefly before disposing of them—I can accept that for now.

But the supply of subjects to make into Harvesters is dwindling.

What is the Wizard thinking?

The Wizard.

It’s been about a month since I came to the Fourth World.

During that time, I’ve learned a few things about the Wizard.

His name is Jeber Ibn something-or-other.

The reason I don’t know the rest is because he stopped midway while saying his name. Apparently, it’s from some kind of Wizard clan.

Whereas Wizards in the First World or Third World felt like experts, in the Fourth World, the belief is ingrained that only the noble ones can use magic.

No wonder it was so easy to gather test subjects.

The Wizards were part of the privileged class.

And those I thought were clones weren’t simple copies—they were artificially created humans.

Apparently, the original prototype for these creations was the Harvester. Bardrol didn’t react when she saw their faces for a reason.

Their faces weren’t really hers.

But it seems Bardrol was used as material, which is why the contract kept renewing.

By the way, Bardrol was originally a warrior. A skilled curved sword user who became politically naive, falsely accused of crimes, and turned into a slave.

Not just as manual labor but as a toy.

Thinking about what Empress Yetae did to Lady Chakbu in the history of Faded Memories makes it easier to understand.

She was in a terrible state, facing death, and fell near the water. Luckily, our meeting happened at the right time, so instead of exploding, she became a Harvester.

Due to her long mental breakdown, she absorbed a lot of Yaseul’s memories that I gave her. And based on those, she became a Wizard and took her revenge.

When she was basking in the joy of her vengeance, she was suddenly killed, giving me Warmth before disappearing.

Since this happened not in another city of the same country but in a completely different one, even with Bardrol’s memories, it would have been hard to realize which world she belonged to.

And the person connected to her death is likely this Wizard named Jeber.

While examining my memories, he said that memories aren’t recorded in the brain.

In other words, there’s technology to extract memories. The metal needle embedded in my head is probably what does that.

And it could have been done to Bardrol as well.

That’s how he used Yaseul’s magic, figured out who I was, and made good use of my body to create what you call a clone.

That’s likely why the contract with the clone was completed.

Additionally, I’ve learned a lot about this clone—or rather, Chimera, since it’s not a complete original.

Anyway, there are various kinds of Chimeras.

First, there are those who do menial tasks. They wear Brass Necklaces and have an estimated operational lifespan of about 7 years.

They aren’t particularly intelligent and can’t use Magic Power at all.

Jeber treats these as pure expendables.

Then there are the ones that care for children.

There are three of them, each with their own names. They wear Silver Necklaces and can use magic. They’re quite intelligent and, unlike expendables, have personalities.

By the way, the children aren’t normal—they’re experimental creations. Hybrids of Demons or Gods. There are also young Chimeras.

Whether they’re just a control group or serve the same purpose as the named Chimeras, they have personalities like the ones teaching them.

Next are the ones who work in the Laboratory.

These are similar to the expendables but wear Bronze Necklaces. Their lifespan is around 30 years, much longer than the ones doing menial tasks.

Most Harvesters come from this group.

But even Chimera Harvesters are sometimes taken apart and dissected, showing that they’re treated as mere tools.

And finally.

Jeber calls these Chimeras assistants. He clearly dotes on them, evidenced by the jeweled necklaces they wear.

It’s funny seeing him lavish affection on a doll he created to obey only his commands.

Compared to other Chimeras, these assistants perform better. Like the ones caring for children, they can use magic, are intelligent, and have proper personalities.

Of course, compared to regular people, they’re still lacking, but they definitely have emotions.

Expendables lack strong emotions.

One day, while watching what felt like someone else’s playground…

“Hey. Isn’t the Purple God’s abdomen shrinking?”

Jeber had come to the lab without bringing anyone to turn into Harvesters, leaving me disappointed, when he spoke in a puzzled tone.

By the way, the Purple God is me.

Didn’t expect them to name me just by color.

But if the abdomen is shrinking… Could it be rotting?

Footsteps approached, and something cold and metallic touched my stomach. Since it was in a spot invisible to the Chimera Harvester’s gaze, I couldn’t see what was happening. It soon dropped, followed by Jeber shouting.

“Bring all the biological data from when this was installed until now!”

The Chimeras inside quickly moved. Not long after, they brought a long sheet of paper.

And then…

The Chimera that brought the paper was slapped across the face by Jeber and fell to the ground.

“There was only one heartbeat since it was summoned! Didn’t I tell you to report anything unusual immediately? You let this happen without reporting it? Can’t you handle such a simple task? Trash!”

He berated the Chimera loudly.

The Chimera, lying on the floor, struggled to get up but couldn’t. Judging from its difficulty standing, Jeber must have broken something when he slapped it.

After yelling for a while, Jeber kicked the struggling Chimera, breaking its leg, and told the nearby Chimera:

“Grind it up in the crusher and bring surgical tools. Now.”

The Chimera carried away the fallen one and disappeared. Then a Chimera Harvester came from the corner of the room with surgical tools and approached Jeber.

Jeber took the tools and approached me while calling his assistant. He gave the assistant some kind of code, and the assistant immediately operated the machine accordingly.

Judging from something injected near my neck, it was probably anesthesia.

Of course, since I don’t feel sensations through the central nervous system, it doesn’t affect me.

Jeber put on gloves and a mask, adjusted my position so my stomach faced upward, and cut me open with a knife larger than a scalpel. I felt the pain as my stomach was sliced open, and it was exposed with cold steel.

Next, he inserted the blade into the organ containing the baby and cut it open.

Puuuht.

Liquid splattered out. Amniotic fluid, maybe?

Sssshh…

“Aaaahhh!”

The liquid that splashed onto my skin smoked as it made contact, and Jeber screamed. Hmm? Wasn’t amniotic fluid supposed to be acidic?

The assistant hurriedly wiped Jeber’s cheek. After spewing curses for a while, Jeber switched to thicker gloves and approached again, finishing cutting open the organ.

“What is this?”

I looked inside through the Chimera Harvester’s eyes.

There was thick liquid inside.

Jeber reached into the murky liquid with his hand and pulled out something resembling tree roots entangled with white lumps. He then said:

“You crazy monster. You haven’t been nurturing a fetus; you’ve been digesting it.”

He stared at the thing as if it were horrifying and pulled on the root-like structure.

“This isn’t a placenta or umbilical cord. It’s a digestive organ that grew to absorb nutrients.”

He carefully examined where the roots began, cut them off, and inspected the cross-section before pulling the lump out of my stomach.

He placed the white stone-laden root-like mass onto a nearby tray and stuck his hand back into my innards.

Muttering technical terms like “this looks like stomach lining, not uterine lining” and “the shape is the same, but the structure has changed,” he investigated my insides.

He then cleaned out my insides with a machine and stitched me back up.

Indeed.

It wasn’t rotting but digestion. The human body is amazing, or maybe it’s because I’m involved.

Continuing to curse, he dissected the digestive organ I called roots with a knife. From his muttering, I understood what the white stones tangled within were.

Partially melted bones.

He muttered about fragments of skull, shoulder blades, and remnants of hip bones while expressing disgust.

Of course, although it might seem horrific to reabsorb the fetus inside the womb, I know that in nature, it’s a fairly common occurrence.

Many creatures stop reproduction and prioritize preserving their own lives when in danger.

Compared to that, isn’t Jeber, who creates hybrids recklessly, far more terrifying and disgusting?

But instead of voicing that, I stayed silent as if incapable of thought. I knew it would lead to a better outcome.

Hi hi.

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