Chapter 108

Chapter 108

From Cosmic Rascal to Professor.

Episode 108: The Stolen Comrade.

The surprise attack had failed, leaving only reproach in its wake.

“Answer me, Safaul. Why did you kill your comrade?”

Safaul thought, ‘I didn’t kill him; he died because he was weak,’ but he noticed even the Outer Gods of Maxwell Legion looked at him with disdain. He softened his words slightly. “That boy had to be killed.”

“Why couldn’t you just wait? Why did you have to be so impatient?”

“Wait? Why? Is there any need for patience when it comes to dispatching a lowly creature?” Safaul’s patience had already reached its limit. The boy was a mere beggar, easily crushed, yet he had dared to resist, which was extremely displeasing.

“There might not be another chance in the future. We should have eradicated him when we had the opportunity. If just one more of you had stepped up, the operation would have succeeded.”

“You don’t call acting on your own a strategy, Safaul.”

“What did you just say?”

Safaul wrapped a tentacle around the neck of his fellow Outer God, a pufferfish-like being who gasped and puffed up its head. “Here, I am the law. If anyone has complaints, come at me all at once. If you beat me, I’ll hand over the voting rights to you and step back to just suck on some coins.”

No Outer God stepped forward despite his challenge for a hierarchy reorganization. Feeling even more arrogant, Safaul shouted, “If it weren’t for that yellow-haired girl, we could have killed the boy with just one comrade’s sacrifice. But everything went wrong. The opportunity slipped away, and now they are fully prepared. There’s no way forward!”

“What are you making such a fuss abo— Kyaaaak!” A barbed wire tore through the grape-like head of the Outer God. The other Outer Gods recoiled in shock, bowing their heads in submission.

“Is there anyone else who thinks this is an overreaction?”

Silence followed.

“Good. It seems there isn’t.”

Safaul brought the plucked grape to his mouth and crushed it in a single bite. His mouth pulsed with a rhythmic thud-thud.

“The Darwin guys are too arrogant. They act nonchalantly just because it’s not their business. They should realize that if we all fall to the ‘Apocalypse,’ it’s a loss for everyone…”

“Grr, Kraaah!”

“Enough! I’ll forgive you just this once.”

He plucked a few more heads from his fellow Outer Gods and smashed them to the ground. Trapped in the Holy Spirit Prison’—a realm with no way in or out—no Outer God could defy or defeat him here; this was his domain.

‘I can always gather more allies to fight against the ‘Apocalypse.’ I’ll wait for the right moment, and when the opportunity arises, I’ll use all the allies here as sacrifices, then kill the boy and escape from the Holy Spirit’s lair.’

However, confirming that chance now was nearly impossible.

Just then, a female figure with a maid headband entered the recovery room he was surveilling.

“Young master, why is the security buzzer hidden away like this?”

“I lost it during a fight.”

“I don’t think so.”

Sonia glared at me, her eyes sharp and threatening, as if to say, ‘If you’re lying, I’ll make you regret it.’

“Why did you release the restraint on Ire Hazlen?”

“That girl went on a rampage all on her own.”

“For something like that, the restraint device was released surprisingly smoothly.”

“……”

“I’ll proceed with a fingerprint inspection.”

I’m screwed.

After a thorough investigation by Sonia—one that could rival a forensic team—the evidence was closing in on me. She made me kneel, placed a hibiscus tea bag in front of me, and took a slow sip. Then she pulled her fist back and said, “I’ll give you a chance to explain. Three, two, one.”

Go on, shoot.

Only after reciting “I won’t do it again!” a hundred times to Sonia did I feel like a skeleton turned to dust. As I fought to suppress my urge to cry, Sonia wrapped her arms around me and gently patted my head.

“Do you know how much my engine room trembled?”

“……”

“If I were to lose you, I’d have nowhere to go but the junkyard. Please understand that your lifespan is directly tied to mine. I’m begging you.” She punctuated her plea with a light slap to the back of my head.

This is it.

Like a parent who disciplines their child harshly before offering comfort, I once thought this was the right way to handle things. Now, as an adult, I see it for what it truly is: gaslighting.

That’s right. I am currently at the mercy of an android’s tongue. The end of the human era has arrived.

“Sonia? Aidel? What are you two doing?”

“We were just consoling for a moment,”

Sonia naturally released our entwined hands at the calling of Rustila.

“Is something wrong?”

“This one is about to wake up.”

Ire’s shoulders twitched as we sat side by side, watching her like spectators at the cusp of an egg hatching.

“What on earth…?”

Ire winced, clutching her head. The moment our eyes met, she recoiled in shock and scrambled backward. But then, catching sight of Rustila, she cautiously peeked forward again.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“No, not at all…”

“There’s no need to apologize, Rustila. It was the work of an Outer God.”

Rustila nodded at my reassurance.

In that brief moment, Ire and Rustila exchanged introductions, though in truth, Ire already knew Rustila well. The bitter smile on Ire’s face made her seem almost tragic.

After all, the two had forged a strong bond over countless iterations. Ire had been Rustila’s sparring partner in swordsmanship during her time of uncertainty. She stood by Rustila whenever Zelnya picked a fight and helped her up whenever she faltered before the Incarnate.

In the narrative, Rustila was the creation of Ire Hazlen. Although Ire had initially helped her out of necessity, Rustila would remember Ire as a dear friend until her last breath. Perhaps, deep down, Ire also harbored some fondness for her.

The two faced each other with gentle smiles… wait, no… Why aren’t you smiling?

“You had a good talk with Aidel, right? Now take a rest,” Rustila said coldly.

“…Excuse me?” Ire’s expression turned to confusion.

“What?”

“No, just… you seem to be in a very bad mood.”

“I’m not.”

With each terse response, the room’s temperature seemed to drop by at least ten degrees.

“We should leave, too.”

Rustila stood up, taking my disheveled hand and leaning my arm over her shoulder—a common gesture of support. Ire looked on, puzzled.

“You two seem to get along well…?”

“We do. Right?” Rustila replied suddenly, turning to me. Her tone had shifted to something warm and bright, which surprised me. I nodded, pleased.

“Sonia, take good care of Ire.”

“Understood. I will ensure she doesn’t leave.”

With that, we left the Holy Spirit residence. My close interaction with Rustila inadvertently served as proof that I wasn’t ‘Aidel.’

Throughout the shuttle ride back, Rustila rested her head against me, a clear sign she wanted something.

“Shall we go eat together after a long time?”

“Y-Yes!” Her face lit up.

While Aidel and Rustila enjoyed their dinner, Sonia was busy in the kitchen preparing a meal for Ire. She took on the responsibility of Ire’s meals, laundry, and general oversight. Today, Sonia baked bread filled with sweet honey, garlic sauce, and cheese to add substance. Alongside this, she created a dish of rosé cream spaghetti tossed with bacon and parsley. She topped it with two roasted cherry tomatoes for a touch of acidity.

Sonia also made a duplicate of the meal and prepared yogurt with rye cereal, originally intended for the young master.

“Meal is ready,” Sonia announced as she entered the recovery room with the tray. Ire was clutching her head, clearly in pain.

“Your meal is here.”

“Why, aaargh!”

“Your meal is here.”

“Rustila, why are you with someone like that…!”

“I said your meal is here.”

“My head hurts, it hurts!”

Sonia sighed, seeing no progress. She returned to the kitchen and grabbed a 1.2-meter baguette, perfect for gripping and swinging.

“Get a hold of yourself,” she commanded, brandishing the bread like a weapon.

“Kyaaaah!” Ire shrieked as Sonia, much like she had done with Aidel, swung the baguette at her before patting her affectionately.

Amidst the sudden chaos, one thought lingered in Ire’s mind:

Rustila and Aidel.

What on earth is the relationship between these two in this world line?

Curiosity gnawed at her, and when she asked Sonia about it, the response was as bland as ever.

“Didn’t you see it yourself during Alcatraz? The young master and the young lady are exceedingly close.”

“No way, that can’t be.”

“To put it bluntly, they’re more than friends but not quite lovers. I’ve heard that the Kersil family is secretly considering a wedding…”

“Ugh!”

Ire twisted in discomfort, torn between the delicious flavor of the pasta and her tumultuous feelings about Rustila.

Calm down, Ire Hazlen. You concluded that this cycle’s Aidel isn’t a scoundrel, but the change is more serious.

Do you know physics?

It’s a really interesting subject.

Will you come to graduate school?

At this rate, Rustila might end up wielding a pen instead of a sword.

“No, no way. Absolutely not!”

That would mean the end of the universe.

A person with a talent for swordsmanship should be in the military; if they went to graduate school or some such place, this round would be lost. Rustila is the top force in the federation!

“Bring Rustila to me. We need to have a talk!”

“She went out on a date with Young Master Aidel.”

“W-what?”

“Even if we call her, she probably won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Ire collapsed backward, foaming at the mouth.

“I’ll eat the remaining pasta.”

Slurp.

Sonia, who had cleaned her plate, sighed.

“I wish I were human, too…”