Chapter 75

The male Cheonma has returned.

I shifted my gaze to the child who was still staring blankly at their own arm. The swollen arm that couldn’t even bend properly had shrunk to less than half its size. No, it wasn’t shrinking—it was returning to normal.

There was no other way to erase the traces left by the previous leader’s daughter. Since Cheonma could likely tell right away whether or not there were bugs inside someone, I used the Harvesting System as a distraction for her eyes.

The previous leader’s daughter had said that it was natural for human bodies to have bugs inside them. She then immediately pulled out medicine to extract the bugs from the body.

Considering she had the medicine on hand, it meant that it was normal within the Cheonma Church for people to have bugs inside their bodies.

Ordinarily, this would be something to criticize.

But using implants to monitor and punish defectors is extremely efficient.

When something becomes so normal in a culture like the current state of the Cheonma Church, resistance decreases. It might even force those who haven’t undergone the procedure to do so.

Normalcy can sometimes be more deadly than poison.

In the world of the faded man, the government controls people by assigning serial numbers to all adults and recording unique object characteristics—people get too accustomed to having their freedoms infringed upon, forgetting they’ve lost them altogether.

Isn’t it ironic that we allow our freedom to be taken away when we can’t even trust government agencies?

The Cheonma Church operates similarly.

They insert bugs into people’s bodies, and if you try to escape, the bugs will kill you. If the bugs don’t fit your body and cause death, oh well—it’s just one of those things.

This child was also slated to die because they weren’t compatible with the system.

Born in a village under the control of the Cheonma Church, tradition dictated that anyone born here would receive education from the church.

Of course, what they call “tradition” is really exploitation of labor. After basic literacy training, these kids work as maids for about 15 years. Special ones stay behind, while the rest return to the village.

Their main tasks are physically demanding: laundry, cleaning every corner, serving the older members…

After about two years, they insert the bugs into their bodies.

But since everyone considers this normal, no one questions it.

They even teach that inserting bugs makes you a proper member of the Cheonma Church. This logic evolves into believing it’s okay to mistreat younger ones who haven’t reached the two-year mark because you suffered through it yourself.

Humans tend to impose the same injustices they endure onto others.

Not just me—I can’t be the only one suffering.

It’s the same everywhere.

But this kid was unlucky.

After working hard for two years and advancing in rank, their body rejected the bug. Swollen limbs, constant itching, pain… but they still had to work. Otherwise, they’d die.

You see, one or two kids brought to the Cheonma Church are publicly executed as examples.

And worse, the other kids are forced to throw stones at them until they die, branding them useless to the church. Each person takes turns throwing stones, and if someone throws weakly, they’re dragged along too.

Efficient brainwashing.

But you could also view it as an adaptation process for survival within the harsh environment of the Cheonma Church.

This kid worked desperately despite their grotesque appearance. They knew what awaited them.

And they understood there was no escaping death.

Just as they resigned themselves to their fate, a monstrous creature dragged them away.

That was this child’s life up until now.

If the bugs suddenly disappeared from a Cheonma Church person’s body, who would be the first suspect?

Even if I had grown attached to this child, would it really be this easy?

Don’t get overconfident in front of clever people. It might already be too late.

So, praying I hadn’t been discovered, I sat in front of the child.

Now that I knew the child could speak, I needed to take action.

“My name is Choseol. Tell me yours.”

It’s just an introduction. Of course, I already know the child’s name, but isn’t there meaning in both sides sharing?

“My name is Soo-oh.”

The faded man’s memories flicker brightly, almost like laughter, pulling some reference from a story.

Teasing someone with their name? Tsk.

I approached the child, grabbing their tattered clothes and replacing them with new ones. Though faint cracks appeared, nothing glaringly obvious showed yet.

Use this power wisely. There are many conditions, and I’m no reality-warping ability user who can reshape the world at will. Still, it’s better than nothing.

I stood up. Behind me, the child hastily dressed.

“Will you come with me?”

“Yes!”

Good answer.

I waited at the entrance. Once Soo-oh finished dressing, we walked together.

From where I currently am, to the south lies the building of the Cheonma Church. To the northwest is the ruin I visited yesterday.

To the east stretches a long cliff, and before it rise countless pillar-like rock mountains.

Let me clarify the terrain: forests to the north and west, and pillar-like rock mountains jutting above the water surface to the east and south.

Thus, distant views are obscured, which explains why the Cheonma Church building is located here.

I plan to descend beneath the rock mountains.

Something about leaving the place I was summoned to and traveling by boat bothers me.

Unfortunately, I can’t go straight down—the cliff’s slope is too steep. Heading north from here, the incline gradually lowers until reaching the water.

The issue is passing through the forest.

What could possibly happen?

Together with Soo-oh, I walked.

Perhaps due to my changed body, my walking speed increased. I hop around easily, matching eye levels with Soo-oh as they run beside me.

Choseol is around 12 years old but as tall as an adult woman.

Whether fully grown or not, it’s strange for an 8-year-old to leap to adult height.

Once becoming a Harvester, physical strength significantly increases.

If this place resembles the world described in the faded man’s memories of “Xian-Xia,” it’s likely a very low-tier area surrounded by incomprehensibly powerful transcendents.

Analyzing the memories of five Harvesters suggests otherwise; perhaps the terminology merely resembles Xian-Xia.

Worst case scenario, we exist in a world beyond comprehension.

Which suits me fine.

Can they handle me?

If I pour everything I have, can I sustain this world?

Or am I so overwhelmingly strong that I’ll destroy myself?

Either way works for me.

If existence holds substance, we shall meet eventually.

Smiling broadly, I entered the forest with Soo-oh leaping around cheerfully. The vegetation isn’t particularly unique.

Rather, it’s eerily familiar.

The plants resemble those seen in the first world or known to the faded man.

Leaves are green, stems brown. Sure, there are differences, but the similarity is uncanny.

Faint memories of the faded man resurface, mentioning something about star temperatures influencing plant colors. Too technical for me—I ignore it.

Understanding words and truly comprehending them are entirely different matters.

Still, I’d love to see worlds where dim light turns plants purple or bright light makes them yellowish.

All 92 worlds so far look alike.

At least in the areas inhabited by Harvesters, some zones lack any vegetation.

Incidentally, there were originally 117 worlds. But after 25 gave me warmth and vanished forever, the count dropped.

Anyway, without much trouble, Soo-oh and I arrived at the water’s edge.

Oddly enough, I hadn’t realized how high up our house was until now. Coming down from a mountain, huh? When did we ascend?

Guess I’m just healthier now.

I glanced back at the house, then crouched by the water as planned, examining it closely.

Crystal clear.

Looking closer, the underwater plants and moving fish below are visible.

Checking the warmth, a massive creature seems nearby.

I hope it comes close. Dipping my finger into the water, I licked it.

Not salty.

A freshwater lake?

Maybe it’s a bay formed by the sea eroding inland like Halong Bay.

Too remote for inland territory.

While pondering geography, Soo-oh approached from behind.

She hesitated, then tried mimicking me by dipping her hand in the water. I considered stopping her but decided against it.

Best to let her try.

Watching silently, she looked at me questioningly.

“Drinking carelessly lets bugs inside.”

Upon revealing the truth, she recoiled dramatically, trembling in terror.

Ah yes…

Bugs burst out of her body alongside blood earlier.

Recalling that memory, the bugs’ name was Samshi. Initially given as tiny pills, they grow inside.

Seeing her shake uncontrollably, I grabbed her.

After staring for a while, she finally stopped shaking but wobbled unsteadily.

Carrying such an unstable child through the cliffs to reach beneath the Cheonma Church building would be tough. What a burden.

But what choice do we have?

I hoisted the child onto my back. Strangely, they clung tightly.

Though the weather is mild, warm during the day and cool at night, it’s quite hot at noon. Yet the child clings regardless.

Kids can do that.

I climbed back uphill.

Unnoticed earlier, the climb puts significant strain on my body.

It’s not a steep hill but rather a gentle slope. Is that why?

Seems like good exercise.

Speaking of which, can I use martial arts?

I remember everything Enjae used. And conveniently, I have a Harvester next to test it on.

I’m lucky.

I should try once I reach the top.

---