The Outer God Needs Warmth – Chapter 6

Joanna Smith looks up at me.

I can see the world through her gaze, her breath, her heart.

In other words, the live service has started!

Until now, I’ve lived watching a lot of broken videos and picking up a few good quality ones. But this time it’s a live service, it’s completely new technology!

Just as I’m feeling moved, she’s feeling moved by the miracle that happened to her body while looking at me. From Joanna’s head, which has turned white with emotion, pleasure chemicals are gushing out to an unthinkable degree.

Ah, I know this much?

It’s very different from looking at a game character. Unlike watching through a screen, there’s a sense that I can know through feeling. At least to the level of what emotions they’re feeling.

I don’t know exactly what they’re thinking. Unfortunately, mind reading doesn’t work.

Or maybe human thoughts aren’t output logically like I’ve seen in comics.

I turned my head to look at Hieronymus.

A little fear, a little curiosity, and various other emotions are swirling in him, but overall, he’s surprised by the current situation.

“I’ve seen everything I needed to see.”

“Is that so? I thank you for your blessing.”

Hieronymus watches from a step away to see what Joanna Smith will do. It’s a posture that looks like he could take action at any time if something happens.

As expected, he didn’t just become the leader of this pseudo-religion. Moreover, according to Joanna’s memories, this person wasn’t the leader of the pseudo-religion a very long time ago.

At that time, the pseudo-religion was closer to a ragtag group. A cell organization without a proper leader. That changed when this person came.

Joanna thinks that someone from above appeared about 10 years ago, but from my perspective, it’s more likely that this author turned this heresy into a full-fledged pseudo-religion a little earlier than that.

Because from 30 years ago to 13 years ago, no one was carrying clothes or masks embroidered with bizarre patterns. In other words, ranks were created after that.

It started appearing little by little in her vision from 13 years ago, so around that time.

The cell organization took on a full-fledged pyramid shape.

And one more thing.

The pseudo-religion itself is a much older religion. Looking through what this person has seen, heard, and learned, it’s closer to primitive faith.

I know that the person in front is quite capable.

This person is the top of the current religious group, and I need to judge well to obtain warmth. How to communicate with this man called Hieronymus.

While I was pondering this, Hieronymus looked back and forth between me and Joanna and told Joanna to go back.

After calling twice, when there’s no answer, he adds that he shouldn’t disturb me.

Joanna startles, gets up from her seat, and goes out with him while bowing to me several times.

Well, I’m alone again.

Can they leave something so dangerous alone like this? There’s that question, but the place is the place.

Since there’s no affection for the organization itself, there’s a possibility that this place could collapse if something happens. This is deep underground.

Joanna was able to come in here because she was a figure from the beginning.

No matter how much it’s a secret place where only important people can come, people are needed to do menial tasks like cleaning.

Cleaning, meals. It’s absolutely necessary for people to do these basic tasks.

Who would do it again if someone who has risen to a high position inside and filled with authority is told to work from the bottom again?

People to order are needed.

Joanna is a person in such a position.

So Joanna is out there, perplexed by Hieronymus who is carefully examining Joanna’s condition and interviewing her.

Why is this person talking to me like this?

Of course, I don’t know if she’s clearly thinking this. Among the emotions mixed in confusion – doubt and perplexity, joy and fulfillment – I’m guessing she might be thinking this by picking out what suddenly rose up.

But why is this person so careful?

Ah, I see.

The leftovers from the place where they called me? Erosion? Contamination? He saw the boy who transformed into such a state shoot and kill the person on the opposite side, and the person who died like that also degenerated into the same appearance.

I was confused at that time too, but Hieronymus understands it better than me.

As expected, it seems I shouldn’t show any signs of using my head.

A child with stupid intelligence and strong power is easy to become a target of ridicule and manipulation.

If you show that you believe in yourself, you can be used for a very long time. Let’s stay in that position for now.

Just as I’m watching him, he might be watching me. The fact that he left me alone in this empty space means there’s a high possibility that there’s something here that can be reassuring.

While watching with one part of my mind Hieronymus who is probing Joanna about her changes, I walked to the center of the altar.

Standing in the highest place, I look down.

Seats spread out radially.

A subtly high position.

The seats are designed to look up at this side.

Intimidation and majesty. Turning around, there’s a light source behind.

It’s an easy-to-understand design.

It’s really visible when you look down from up here. I don’t know much else. It wouldn’t be strange if there were more devices, but I don’t see anyone hiding or things like surveillance cameras.

Of course, since it’s a world where magic and curses actually exist, it wouldn’t be strange if there were such things. I felt an ominous energy from the arrows, and the sensation of something binding me when my head flew off remains.

Although it disappeared when I stole warmth by touching the light of one boy.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s when the wounds healed?

This means that warmth might be needed to maintain this body here. Then I need to eat like a human. I should consider eating meals too.

I need clothing, food, and shelter.

Speaking of clothing, it occurred to me, why doesn’t anyone say anything about me being naked?

Don’t they think they need to clothe me?

Thinking like that, I looked down at my body and the front is stiffly crusted with blood. It’s touching down to the lower body, so it looks like I have a grotesque form like a demon from a game about catching demons.

Certainly.

If I look like this, it’s easier to see it as something terrible appearing rather than something wretched.

I don’t like this dirty appearance, but is there no way to do something? There’s no water around here.

Or can’t I do something with myself?

I have power. When I touched people, they changed. They changed to the extent that you could say their species changed, so isn’t there a possibility that I can do something?

I pour a little more, just a little more of myself into the vessel.

Like touching light with a thin hand, squeezing and tightening as much as possible.

Ah.

Dark purple mist is oozing out of my body.

Oh. And I found something interesting too.

Hieronymus hurriedly turns his head in my direction. As expected, he was watching inside here.

After reassuring Joanna, he takes her into some room. There he gives out clothes and a mask. It’s clothes corresponding to the 3rd floor. Urgency can be seen in Hieronymus’s gestures.

It’s funny.

Joanna is very moved seeing that, but Hieronymus’s gaze is directed at empty space. That is, he’s looking at me.

I don’t know where he’s looking from or where.

Meanwhile, I examine the dark purple mist that flowed out through the cracks in my body.

Is this really me? If that’s right, or even if it’s not, can’t it become clothes?

Everything is an experiment. First, let’s pray for the clothes that Rebecca Rolfe wore most comfortably to appear.

Oh.

It came out.

The dark purple mist flowed into my body and turned into fluffy pajamas! And it’s not an arrangement, but exactly the pajamas Rebecca had, mixed white and pink.

No, I certainly ordered the clothes she wore most comfortably, but isn’t pajamas a bit too much?

Look.

Even Hieronymus, who was watching me from afar with some special power, is very confused.

But the collaboration of blood and bodily fluids stuck to my body has disappeared, and physically I’ve gained warm and fluffy clothes.

Still, this cold doesn’t go away.

If there’s no problem with these clothes, it’s not cold because the body is cold. It just seems like I’m the cause. I can’t get warmth from physical warmth.

I’m curious what would happen in a desert, but let’s experiment with that more slowly. I’m trying to act like a child.

So let’s curl up and sleep on top of the altar.

I’m not really that sleepy, but.

This girl’s body, Rebecca Rolfe, wants rest.

Is there a soul? I don’t know about that. When I came, I couldn’t find light, and there was no warmth. Only memories directly extracted from the brain were there.

I closed my eyes and curled up. It’s a bit uncomfortable because my chest is big, but I can pretend to sleep.

And I focused my remaining senses on Joanna.

* * *

Hieronymus inwardly sighed in relief.

Suddenly, an enormous presence exploded from the place where he had pushed it in. It’s not magic, nor is it the main force that becomes the source of curses.

An unknown, mysterious power.

A power from outside the world that magicians versed in specific genres call the power of the dark dimension or void.

He put something that handles such power into the girl’s body.

There are gods in this world. Hieronymus, the man whose real name is Yasle, knows this. Of course, that god is not an absolute being who can do everything.

Beings incomparably stronger than mediocre life forms are called gods. Among them, from the position of a religious leader, he has ordered subjugation and actually killed some.

The weapons held by the combat group called warriors of faith were weapons for that purpose.

It was unharmed even after being hit by that.

No, considering that it’s now making clothes and sleeping, it might have unexpectedly taken quite a bit of damage. Thinking that he should prepare more in the future assuming that, he looked at the woman called Joanna Smith in front of him.

The originally old and sick woman with graying hair is nowhere to be seen, and judging by appearance alone, she’s become close to a teenager not even in her 20s. If there’s a problem, it’s that her skin color has changed to almost completely dark purple, but considering what the being that gave her that power is, it’s fortunate that it ended with just that much.

Because the first person who was affected by her clearly distorted into a form that wasn’t human.

And as a result of talking while walking here, there was also distortion in her mind.

Originally, this woman was in a completely broken mental state. She passively listened to someone’s orders, was happy with that, and didn’t desire anything more. She was an easy-to-understand cult member educated as a worker.

But the person in front of him is different. There’s no sign of shrinking at words.

Of course, there are people who change as soon as they feel they’ve been chosen in such a religious group.

However, she doesn’t have the pride of thinking she’s been chosen as a special person. She just thinks her body has become healthy by a miracle.

But now, strong self-esteem is visible. Perhaps this is the influence of the being wearing Rebecca Rolfe’s skin.

Yasle still doesn’t know what the warmth that being talks about is. He thought it was a monster that kills people and absorbs them. So he brought this woman before it.

It didn’t eat her.

This is rather close to a gift.

However, his long experience knows that this gift is certainly not a good thing.

The desire of the being wearing the girl’s skin appears in its expression. As if the sentence about the absolutely unfillable hunger that the god called Cruxshibal has is engraved directly on its expression.

Then Yasle laughed inwardly.

Cruxshibal.

That’s a name he created. A name made with resentment and grudge because no one knows the true identity of the god they believe in.

He kneaded it into its current form by combining knowledge from magicians that flowed out from somewhere and the original image of saving those at the bottom.

The thought crossed his mind that perhaps the real one without a name might have come.

If so, that’s good in its own way.

If he can take revenge, let’s use it.

First, let’s check how much the transformed Joanna has changed. If the mutated human is powerful, this can strengthen his position under the name of a blessing.

Also, it can become a knife that can be directly stabbed into the target of revenge.

So Yasle, wearing the skin called Hieronymus, pretending to have the benevolence of a religious leader, raised Joanna’s rank and gave her a task.

Watching Joanna, who smiled with joy all over her face at those words and greeted him, Yasle moved his steps towards the room where the something that called itself Rebecca Rolfe was sleeping.