Ch.162162 – A Monster Who Doesn’t Understand the Human Heart

<162 – A Monster Who Doesn’t Understand the Human Heart>

Trapping Lin in a ring.

Putting a collar on her so she can’t escape and binding her with chains.

Statements that show no respect toward people.

An attitude like dealing with possessions.

All of it was no different from the enemies of the Eastern Empire that Sing had come to hate.

“You’ve crossed the line.”

I tried my best to be patient.

I believed this child could become an ally who would help me with my revenge.

This is the result.

East and West.

Though their spheres of activity differ, they’re all places where people live.

The bare face of humanity is all the same.

“Why are you drawing your sword?”

“You. You disgust me.”

An expression of extreme shock.

Even that clear display of emotion is uncomfortable.

When I think about what might be behind those word choices that mock human feelings, it becomes even more detestable.

“Did you approach me just to toy with me from the beginning?”

“What did I do wrong? Having a form with arms and legs would only get me exorcised, so isn’t a portable ring better when the soul can stay together even without limbs?”

“Now I understand.”

“Phew. You understand now?”

“You are a monster who doesn’t understand the human heart.”

The discomfort arising from words that seem to come from someone my age, yet don’t.

“This unpleasant conversation stems from the discomfort created by pretending to know what you don’t.”

“What?? Me?? No way. I know very well. At the Academy, it’s harder to find things I don’t know…”

“The world cannot be defined by knowledge alone.”

Far from showing remorse, Oknodie shamelessly makes a sad face as if to say, “How could you say such harsh things to me?”

Sing pointed his blade at this incomplete human who hid the nature of a terrible monster behind a cute face.

Flash.

Along with the sword flashing in the sunlight, Sing’s killing intent exploded.

“Monster who doesn’t understand the human heart. Let me teach you one emotion. The emotion called anger.”

* *

It wasn’t difficult to detect <Signs of Sing’s Murderous Impulse>.

I felt goosebumps on my skin and had a premonition that my hand would be cut off if I didn’t respond.

Clang!

I blocked it.

Without time to feel relief after one defense, a barrage of attacks came at a frightening speed that would sever my fingers and wrists if I failed to counter them.

Sing’s sword strikes conveyed strong will in their trajectory, intensity, and in his every movement, including his cold and deadly gaze.

This was a sincere slash meant to efficiently incapacitate an opponent and behead them.

I felt hurt.

I had offered to help him.

I had shown goodwill first.

“How can you misunderstand my feelings like this?!”

The tip of Sing’s sword wavered.

That moment of hesitation, ridiculously, only added more killing intent to his blade.

“To say such things even knowing about Lin and me. Are you determined to mock us siblings to the end!”

He had long surpassed the level of a freshman.

If my spec training had been insufficient, I would have lost my grip on my sword without time to react, and it wouldn’t have been strange if my fingers, wrists, and neck had been cut off in succession.

“Siiiing! What don’t you understand! Ghosts are naturally prone to running away!”

Ghosts are beings that will escape from artifacts even when neatly stored, run beyond effective binding distance at their whim, and have no right to complain if they get subjugated.

If he had directly captured his sister’s soul, it might at least stay close to him, but this is just a fake that stole Sing’s memories and only mimics Lin’s appearance.

Moreover, it’s not even a single ghost, but closer to a manifestation of collective consciousness formed by multiple vengeful spirits merged together.

‘Since they run away at the first chance, you need to trap them in a ring, set an effective distance with chains, and use shackles to prevent them from breaking free—why does he hate that so much?’

In a previous playthrough when I became Sing’s companion, when we trapped a ghost in an item, he even gathered materials for shackles and iron chains himself after I said I would help with his revenge.

Now it seems he can’t accept putting his own sister in an item—such hypocrisy.

‘Fighting Sing with force is too disadvantageous.’

If I were to summon dark mana and fight seriously, I do have a secret technique that could defeat even the great Sing.

But using that technique would definitely kill Sing, and he wouldn’t die peacefully either.

Sing also has his own trump card.

Neither of us can achieve a clean victory.

A pointless fight.

A victory that would only leave wounds even if I won.

“Do we really have to fight?”

“After provoking me like that, did you believe you could avoid a fight?”

It hurts my pride, but I have no choice.

A veteran player should know how to handle various weapons.

This weapon is one that even I, a veteran of countless playthroughs, have never used before.

I can’t even predict what effect it will have.

It might decide the match in one go, but it could also backfire.

Though its lethality is lower than a finishing move.

This is the only way to end this without either of us getting hurt.

‘Here goes!’

Remember the pain of stepping on a thorn.

Remember the sadness of having all your items stolen when you worked hard to put treasures in a pouch after robbing the magic tower’s treasure vault, only to find out it was a mimic pouch.

Remember the bitterness of becoming a petrified hero because you mismanaged a heroine’s affection level before graduation.

‘Don’t chicken out. You can do this!’

As I strained to make my face hot, my eyes began to burn.

“You…”

For the first time, Sing’s sword, which had been driving fierce attacks, lost its deadly speed and slowed down.

“Are you crying?”

A woman’s tears are a weapon.

Successfully handling a weapon that even I, a veteran player, am using for the first time in actual combat.

The so-called Weapon Master Operation—a great success!

* *

I thought she was a monster who didn’t understand the human heart.

Just clumsily imitating humans.

That thing doesn’t understand human emotions.

Drip.

The moment I saw tears flowing from Oknodie’s eyes.

Cracks formed in my firm belief.

“Am I crying? Is this crying?”

“…I feel foolish for asking.”

“Yes, that’s right! I’m crying right now.”

Crocodiles at least open their mouths wide to stimulate their tear ducts to shed tears, but how did this small monster shed tears without even opening her mouth?

Oknodie, who acted out human emotions without knowing what real emotions were.

It was because she felt real emotion.

Is it guilt?

Is it shame?

Or is it for some other reason?

Oknodie shed real tears.

For reasons even she didn’t understand.

“…My will to fight is fading.”

“Can we stop fighting now?”

“I’ll give you a chance to explain. Clarify your intentions behind what you said about my sister.”

Would a child who is clumsy with her own emotions speak properly?

I wanted to hear what she was thinking when she spoke those words.

“About ghosts? Since they’re a race that tends to run away, you need to make them possess objects…”

After hearing her explanation, I understood.

To use such ridiculous word choices without any malice.

The parents are partly to blame for this.

What did they raise this child to see, to end up like this?

But with a little thought, one can guess.

A human weapon born from the darkness of the Foundation.

The entity she calls “Papa” that I’ve only heard rumors about must refer to the Foundation’s butler who visited the Academy before, or the instructor who taught her.

They probably aren’t her real parents, and if they are, that’s even worse.

‘A child who didn’t grow up under proper parents.’

Those who grow up in similar environments feel a sense of kinship and easily empathize with each other.

A child who either had wrong parents like himself and his sister, or whose parents died due to the Foundation or other factors.

A child with a past no different from theirs.

“From now on, don’t use words that can easily cause misunderstandings.”

“Hmph. I spoke clearly! You’re the one who misunderstood.”

Normally, one retort would have made me narrow my eyes and consider whether to cut her down, but now I didn’t even feel like drawing my sword against this pitiful child.

“So you’re going to trap my sister in a ring?”

“Yes. I happen to have a good ring.”

“What’s so special about that ring that you need to trap a soul mimicking my sister in it?”

“Ghosts need life force to maintain their existence. To persist without harming people, they need to dwell in objects that can replenish life force. Like this ring.”

Although he is a swordsman who uses a sword, in the Eastern Empire, beings originating from ghosts or yokai, known as guimul, are well known.

He knows that it’s not unheard of to put ghosts back into guimul obtained by exorcising or pacifying spirits.

A gourd that can trap yokai by deceiving them.

A scroll that prevents escape once trapped.

That ring must also be able to become such a guimul.

But unlike the gourd and scroll, Oknodie’s ring has one difference.

“That ring doesn’t originally exist to trap something, does it?”

“Only amateurs use items for their intended purpose. A veteran player can create their own traditions!”

An answer overflowing with confidence to the point of absurdity.

An attitude that could be seen as arrogance actually felt reassuring.

Because I know.

To protect even a fake ghost that isn’t my sister.

I need to completely trust Oknodie.

“…If you truly protect this child.”

“If I protect her?”

“I’ll kill someone for you.”

So I offer compensation.

With the only thing I can do.

Rustle!

I drew my sword at the sound of a rat scurrying away after eavesdropping on our conversation, but Oknodie shook her head.

“That’s my friend!”

“…You’d better make sure they keep quiet.”

The deal was accepted.