The Outer God Needs Warmth-Chapter 165: Don’t cry. Don’t cry (5)

The child is held in the air like a cat in someone’s hands.

It’s probably because the pain has drained all their strength.

“No, why are you asking that to Tory?”

Merryweather looks at me with a strange expression and asks. I glance around.

Fear, confusion, anger, and yet, a sense of frustration as if they can’t speak up, annoyance, boredom—many people are watching with expressions filled with various emotions.

“There’s only Victoria who would feel pity for the child here and be able to talk to me.”

The truth is, I’m forcing them to decide what to do with the child. I believe that if it were Victoria, who has a lot of sympathy, she wouldn’t leave the child’s arm severed like that.

The harvest must never be forced by my will. Of course, if I were famous, I’d ask if they had any wishes before pushing them into making the harvest choice, but there is no such pressure here.

So, when I made my first harvest in the Brightshin slums, it had to be forced.

“What if Tory tells you to leave it?”

Merryweather uses a mischievous tone. Still, they’re thinking of turning the child into a harvester, saying something like, "But the child wanted it."

But now, shouldn’t I be isolated?

They speak words that monsters would say.

“I won’t do anything.”

I don’t say that I won’t do it just because I don’t want to. If I want everything I say to be the truth, I have no choice but to speak carefully.

I turn my gaze from Merryweather, who’s looking at me with a curious expression, to Victoria. She’s not paying attention to the conversation but instead stopping the bleeding from the child’s hand using her abilities.

Then, as if she realized something, she looks down at her hand, then waves it.

The hand that was lying on the floor rises into the air.

It flies toward the child’s wrist and stops slightly above it. The liquid inside starts flowing out in straight lines from both sides.

I wonder if she’s trying to squeeze more fluids out to kill the child, but I keep watching. The fluid column, which was moving in a straight line from the severed edge, slowly rotates until it perfectly matches, and once aligned, it immediately merges.

“Wow, can you use healing magic from there?”

From the spot where moisture is present, light emerges from inside the severed area, almost like welding. After a moment, when the light fades, a hand without a single scar is revealed.

“The arm?”

The child mutters in a barely strained voice, looking down at their arm. What an atrocious way to join it.

It’s more like repairing a machine than healing a person. Connecting the joint, welding it together.

After all, people are bio-machines.

“Wow, this really works.”

Victoria looks at what she’s done with a stunned expression, never expecting it to succeed. Murmurs spread around us.

Then she approaches the child and starts feeling their arm.

“Yeah, it’s all attached. The arm was more complicated than I thought.”

She takes the child off my arm and pats their back lightly.

My harvest candidate ran away into an alley and disappeared. As I watch the fish I missed, Victoria meets my gaze.

“This is the right thing, right?”

I sigh deeply inside and reply.

“Yes, that’s right.”

For you, Victoria Bet, that’s the right thing. But remember, my affection for you has taken a vertical dive.

“I thought Bell was a good person, but I guess not?”

Merryweather slowly approaches and asks me. At those words, Victoria tries to say something but closes her mouth. It seems she knows I’m not a kind person.

“By human standards, I’m evil.”

Of course, I know that saying this won’t sound truly evil. Most of the time, saying you are something doesn’t matter at all.

A good person doesn’t act because they think their actions are good, but because they believe they should act.

Living kindly is normal.

So, a society that respects individuality can easily become an environment where villains flourish. If you can’t bind someone by normality, there’s no power to hold them back when they stand out.

Anyway.

Those who claim they are good are, without a doubt, the biggest liars. I’m sure Merryweather knows this obvious fact.

So after saying that, I pointed at Merryweather.

“Merryweather also was bad.”

“Because you cut the child’s hand?”

“No. Victoria went out for a while, but now she’s upset. You need to take responsibility.”

If you’re too kind, it’s hard to use you. Everyone knows how easily a prophet of a universal religion can meet their end.

You have to be ugly enough to think that the ones using you are just like you, or worse, hypocrites.

It’s easy to spot fools who complain about not liking perfect humans, saying they find their flaws through comparison. They’re afraid of beings superior to themselves in every way.

Because they’ve been finding their value through comparison, they can’t bear the thought of having lower value in everything.

So, they create easy-to-understand weaknesses. Is this what they call humanity?

“Hm, aren’t you being too protective of Victoria? Or is it that? Dependency?”

“Merryweather Olcat. Are you really guarding me?”

I asked the question as a warning because she was too blatant in her attempt to pry. Merryweather steps back and apologizes.

“Sorry, sorry. I guess I was too curious about Bell. You’re really hard to read.”

It’s not a proper apology, but if her cognitive abilities were impaired, she wouldn’t feel the discomfort.

Even if the ability isn’t strong enough for a normal person to catch the oddness, I chose to ignore it.

“Yes, I understand.”

At that moment.

“There, there they are.”

A strangely ugly murmur reaches my ears. Looking toward the source of the sound, I see eyes watching from a narrow alley deeper inside a smaller alley.

In the midsummer heat, unless the sun is directly overhead, it’s a spot where sunlight doesn’t reach. The gaze is not directed at me but at Victoria.

Among the background noise, it’s not hard to separate their voices. I can think of many things at once.

They mutter these words.

Purple hair.

Girl.

Strong healing abilities.

Mercy.

Selflessness.

I only know fragmented information. If I piece it together, it could be me, or it could be Victoria. Perhaps there’s a girl with healing abilities awakened in the slums.

But she’s not the one yet.

Because she has never used that healing ability on anyone other than her family. She used it just two days ago.

A harvester awakens their superpowers and immediately realizes their abilities, but I won’t know until they use them.

Even if they seem somewhat familiar with using them from the start, everyone goes through a trial and error phase.

They always test how well their abilities work.

At that time, I’ll know that the harvester has gained their powers.

Considering the girl hid her abilities for quite a while, there may be a superpowered person I haven’t yet identified.

I need to keep an eye on that in the future.

But that’s that. When our gazes meet, the people in the alley quickly flee.

They could show a bit more desire...

Meanwhile, Victoria sighs and looks around. Many people are staring at her.

“We won’t be able to come here again.”

“Victoria made the wrong choice.”

I approach Victoria. If it were the body of a child, she would still be a small girl.

I reach out and take her hand. Then, I apply force and bend her down. I hold her head with both hands.

“What do you mean, I made the wrong choice?”

Even with my face held in her hands, she asks with an unamused expression.

“Victoria should have died there. That way, Morris would have fallen into despair, created machines that shouldn’t have been made at his company, and Beatrice would have been broken. Eventually, the relationship between the two would have been torn apart.”

I’m using Merryweather as an excuse to say what I want.

“From the moment you held my hand there, you’ve been making the wrong choice.”

I tug gently on both her cheeks, then release them and turn around, walking toward Merryweather, who’s looking at me with an intrigued expression.

“It’s still the same.”

Merryweather, who’s trying to figure out what my words mean, most likely works for the kingdom’s intelligence department.

The king, whom I met last time, was also suspicious of me.

What is my true identity?

That’s probably for Aurora’s sake. From the moment I signed the contract to save Aurora, it was too late!

“Let’s go, Merryweather. No one here is calling for me.”

“Whoa, did Tory do something you don’t like? If it’s my fault, I’m sorry. How about we make up and leave?”

Ugh, I see easy malice here.

If we make up here, the relationship will only twist further. That’s interesting.

Let’s do it.

“Let’s say so. Victoria.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I think so too.”

It’s an act completely disregarding emotions, focusing on breaking the context and relationship.

“Are we going to make up?”

At my question, Victoria stares at me, and the air becomes dry. The dry air pulls moisture from my body.

On the contrary, my body feels damp. I scratch myself as I feel the chill.

“Do you need it?”

“No.”

Victoria stares at me, then walks past me without looking at Merryweather, and exits the alley.

“Yeah. Big trouble. But Bell, your words were wrong too. No matter how much you dislike something, you should have made up like an adult there.”

She immediately divides the adults and children, putting me in the weaker position. Yeah, easy gaslighting. She’s making it look like I’ll play along, but I shake my head.

“Victoria was wrong.”

She claims she’s not bad. That others are bad. This is the kind of denial a child would have.

Look, Merryweather’s smile gets even more intense, right?

“Tory was strange. How could she cut a slum child’s wrist like that? Then try to heal her but ignore you. It almost seemed like she was trying to replace you.”

I hold back my laughter, hearing the obvious attempt to threaten my place. Acting like they’re worried, but trying to break the bond?

“Is that so?”

“But we should make up, right? You don’t want to, but you don’t have a choice. How about thinking it over tomorrow?”

In other words, she wants me to share my troubles. Sharing troubles means pouring out my thoughts.

A real intelligence officer, huh.

The best answer she would want here is to ignore her. I don’t respond and start walking back to my room.

Merryweather tries to hide her joy and speaks soothing words, occasionally whispering things to drive a wedge between me and Victoria.

I begin to respond slowly, like someone being taken in, and head back to my room.

Merryweather seems to not know.

The last moment I talked with Victoria. The air was dry, and my stomach was damp.

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Victoria said Merryweather was strange, and if she knew, she should have scratched her arm.

When asked if I needed help, I said no.

Sorry, Merryweather.

Victoria is probably smarter than you think. She killed the Sahagin, slaughtered those who summoned Daegon, and shouldn’t be underestimated by those who tried to blow up their nests.

Victoria is strong in adversity.

She can spot and handle sly tactics.

Sure, I could side with Merryweather to get warmth now, but this time, I’ll side with her.

The time to gain warmth has gotten further, but as long as I don’t cause trouble, a prosperous future awaits.

It feels like a healthy meal, hard and focused only on nutrients, rather than fast food, so it’s a bit torturous.

The important thing is that the automatic warmth system is progressing without major issues.

So, in the meantime. A few hundred years.

Let’s play with me.