The Outer God Needs Warmth-Chapter 145: Academy, you’re out of your mind (15)

The incident was over, but the work had grown.

By the time the incident ended, Victoria was completely collapsed on the ground, covered in mud, stuffing sweet food into her mouth.

As daylight came and the situation calmed down, the Bet family dragged Victoria back to her home.

And from that evening, reporters from newspapers and TV stations began to visit the Bet household.

Morris refused the interviews upfront, but there was no way anyone would leave after hearing that.

Whenever the news was turned on or the newspaper was opened, it talked about the disaster in Vern City, along with the term "the miracle of Vern City," and it mentioned me.

And surprisingly, there wasn’t much talk about Victoria.

Because of the 9,000 harvesters. To be exact, 181 of them exhibited special abilities. Of course, 129 of them used their powers in front of people.

The rest kept it hidden.

Anyway, most of the people with special powers gained similar abilities. There were roughly three types.

One was a mobility ability. It wasn’t teleportation, but they could move quickly or bring multiple people down from a high place.

Another was the ability to manipulate wind, water, and fire. This power seemed to have been developed in response to the disaster itself.

And the last was a survival ability. The ability to generate shields, harden their bodies, or rapidly regenerate from injuries.

In total, there were 9,190.

It seemed like a lot.

But considering the last moment of the first world, where there were nearly 100 million harvesters, it wasn’t that many.

Back then, whenever someone recited the contract, it was immediately signed.

I hadn’t thought about controlling the numbers. Back then, I didn’t know that too many would cause things to collapse.

Once it started spreading, it really grew exponentially.

If I limited it, there wouldn’t be any dangerous problems. In other words, with this number, there’s still plenty of time before the deadline.

This time, I want to create a sustainable, automatic warmth harvesting system.

Anyway.

Thousands of people in Vern City watched me give powers.

The media asked about it. And instead of focusing on why this incident occurred, they focused more on the miracle that appeared during it.

As a result,

The area around the Bet household was full of reporters.

Of course, soldiers in charge of security came and surrounded the area, so they didn’t break into the house, but the constant snapping of cameras was a rather annoying situation.

However, Morris and Beatrice didn’t have the mental capacity to protest.

Because right now, there was a special envoy from the royal family in the house.

"Are you the one called the Apostle of God?"

A man in a fine formal suit, the mayor of Vern City, and several others wearing thick exoskeletons stood there.

The only relief was that the religious tone of those present wasn’t strong.

If I dig through the memories of the third world, there’s a reason for that.

About a hundred years ago, there was a group armed with obsessive faith, and they acted as a barrier, protecting the human settlements from dangerous wilderness.

Over time, their authority grew, and the kingdom improved its constitution using magical engineering techniques to counter them.

Then, when a huge scandal involving several countries and their main religions exploded, faith quickly declined. Taking advantage of this, almost all nations pushed forward with the idea of powerful mechanical devices based on magical engineering and the ideology of pure reason.

It succeeded, and religion lost its power and collapsed.

Now, most people believe in technology itself. It’s similar to what’s called the Belle Époque in faded memories—a time filled with hope that science and technology would illuminate the future.

So, when the Apostle of God suddenly appeared in such a world, naturally, people would be interested.

For several reasons, it was dangerous.

So, I stepped forward and said to him.

“I’m not the Apostle of God. I have nothing to do with God.”

I considered calling myself a creature, but my identity was too ambiguous to call myself just a creature, so I left the words vague.

At that, the man who introduced himself as being from the royal family narrowed his eyes. He probably saw me as a little girl talking, but it was clear he saw me as a creature to be killed.

“Does that mean you’re a demon?”

“Isn’t that a term used by gods for gods outside their religion?”

I threw out a challenge, and he looked at me with a gaze that seemed to say he couldn’t figure out who or what I was. I’m not sure how advanced their theology is here.

At least the people in this city don’t seem to believe much in gods.

They just know there’s something like that, or that people in the countryside might go to church.

“If I had to say, I’d probably be an endangered species. If there are many of the same, then there must be one.”

As I said this, I thought that if something emerged while I was coming up, it could be considered that I had found a kin.

Saying that, I saw the man’s face brighten with understanding, and he looked very relieved.

It’s a good thing.

I don’t look like some occult ghost; I look like a creature that can be killed, right? A species on the brink of extinction.

A fragile and sad creature facing destruction.

He looked at me with that kind of face.

“So, what about the person you blessed? Can you explain about the blessing that healed any wound and gave the girl there special powers?”

His tone had changed.

It was no longer about confronting something I couldn’t identify, but more like dealing with a dangerous person. The respectful "you" had turned into a more familiar "you."

It was easy.

“I don’t know either. But I have some guesses. Is that okay?”

“Alright, tell me.”

Every time I was asked a question, I could see him relax and ease the tension in his shoulders. To him, I was probably now someone beneath him.

“I’m guessing that it’s bringing out the best possibility. Humans aren’t usually so strong, smart, or capable of having special powers, are they? But because of that, it’s impossible to bring the power out of someone once it’s been taken.”

I had to add that part.

It’s a preemptive explanation. Why the second time can’t happen after the first. I had to clarify that even if I had helped once, it wouldn’t happen again.

There are many people who think of favor as a right when it continues. So, to avoid being resented by others, I draw the line clearly.

Since I explained it upfront, anything that goes wrong from here on out will be something they have to take responsibility for.

In reality, I’m the one who’s bad, right? It’s a fraudulent contract, and everything related to it is bad.

I pretend not to know and push it into a corner. And since I said I didn’t know, I’ve set up an escape route just in case any facts come to light later after research.

“Is that... a human ability?”

The man asked, surprised, almost scolding me.

“Yes. That’s right. I’m just pushing myself into it. I don’t even know why it’s happening like that. Aren’t humans supposed to be strong, after all?”

I subtly pushed him up.

He stared at me intently and then asked.

“Why did you change them?”

This was a question about why I turned people into harvesters. So, I decided to tell the truth.

“People wanted it. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have moved.”

This question is actually me passing responsibility onto Victoria.

It’s making them think that I’m just a machine giving them a chance to open up possibilities without any will of my own.

I’m actually acting that way.

I don’t need to push people onto the dirty path. I believe that if I just give them power, they’ll self-destruct. After all, absolute power corrupts absolutely, right?

“Do you want power?”

I clearly said the famous line that they made the choice.

The man stared at me for a long time, then responded.

“I’ll answer that question later.”

Delaying is not a bad tactic. If he’s from the royal family, this kind of verbal battle would be more detailed than what I could do.

Then he turned to talk to Beatrice, Morris, and Victoria.

Saying “talk” isn’t entirely accurate—it was more like an interrogation.

Beatrice and Morris heard that they didn’t know much about me, and the man asked Victoria where he had met me.

Victoria glanced at me nervously, asking if she should say it, and I responded.

“It’s fine to tell everything.”

I told them the story of being captured by the Sahagin, up to the point I escaped. And the last part of that story.

When the Sahagin tried to summon a god, people’s eyes turned to me, but I shook my head and pointed to Victoria.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

I told them about how a huge monster woke up when they called the god, but it wasn’t the god they wanted. And how I almost became a monster, but ended up being a harvester and was healed, surviving thanks to the powers I gained.

Then I talked about how I didn’t want to go back home, but they brought me along anyway.

“How have you been living here?”

At the man’s question, Victoria explained her daily life here.

Beatrice, who had lived with her for a week, agreed with Victoria’s words and added some details.

Morris, listening to this, slowly began to look at me with an expression of guilt toward our daughter, which was quite funny.

“Outside, did they force the act of blessing?”

“No. Actually, I told them not to think too hastily, because if they got injured in that state, they wouldn’t be able to heal.”

At Beatrice’s words, the man’s suspicion faded. It was still there, but compared to what he had been doing, it was no longer significant.

Hehe.

This is it.

This is why I act like an observer. Even if I want to steal warmth, I don’t want to rush in like a beast and get hunted like one.

Actions must match words.

It’s important. The behavior of not lying shines the brightest in times like this.

After a bit more questioning about my private life, I warned them not to share the events with unauthorized people.

Then he left with his companions, and I thought I’d be able to stay quietly in the house until the heat died down...

The next morning, at dawn,

A letter, which could be read as both an invitation and an order, arrived.

It contained several elaborate sentences, but to summarize, it said this:

Invitation to the royal palace.

Press conference scheduled.

Award and prize for actions during the Vern City disaster.

Admission to the Royal Academy.

Addressees: Bell & Victoria.

“No, mom. Does that mean I can’t go to the clockwork school?”

“They’ll fully support it, so think of it as going to a better place...”

Victoria held her head, and Beatrice had a look on her face that said she had expected this.

Additionally, the invitation to the royal palace was different for me and Victoria. Victoria was truly invited, but my actual residence would be moved from the Bet household to the royal palace.

They were taking me under the pretext of protecting an innocent person with nowhere to go.

This was as expected, so I was happy. I even wanted this to happen. Now, if I turn high-ranking officials into harvesters, how much warmth would that cost?

But there’s one problem.

“The academy? That’s insane.”

The Royal Academy? They want me to go to school? At that moment, Victoria approached me. With a playful expression full of escapism, she asked me.

“Why, don’t you want to go to the academy?”

“Well... compared to ordinary people, I’m a bit slow...”

This is the problem. Even though I have memories, I can’t apply them.

“No, you’re a monster, so you’re slow?”

“As long as I’m alive, it’s okay to be slow.”

Victoria, teasing me, nodded with a reluctant expression.

“I’ve heard that if you’re slow, your body suffers, but I guess the opposite applies too...”