episode_0146

I thought I would be admitted straight into the Royal Academy, but… … that didn’t happen.

First of all, the first reason.

It’s vacation time.

The schools in the capital are all on vacation around the same time, and it’s currently summer vacation. Incidentally, the Royal Academy and Victoria’s Clockwork Academy are all in the capital.

And the second reason.

To honor those who helped the people of Bern City, they were invited to the royal palace, including Victoria.

Just giving out awards officially like this improves public awareness, so it’s a win-win in terms of maintaining order.

However, it makes me feel bad that in any media, only stories about the sudden disaster and the good stories of those who helped people there are reported.

There’s no story about why things happened, and it focuses only on individual narratives.

In other words, there is a high possibility that the incident in Bern City was fabricated or is a fatal problem that cannot be resolved immediately.

I was shipped to Wangseong, expecting a second disaster.

Yes, it’s delivery.

That afternoon when the letter came, a battleship literally landed over the house. And a bunch of people in exoskeletons came down and dragged me into the battleship.

Although I said I would listen, it was no different from kidnapping in that I had no right to express a different opinion.

I was led by them and arrived in the capital in one day.

I looked down at the palace from the top of an airship.

Walls painted to look like they were made of wood, brass ornaments and structures, and large glass windows and cast-iron frames occasionally visible between them.

On the contrary, tall spires and pointed roofs built of stone. Arches extending in all directions.

Two buildings from different eras stand in harmony in the middle of a vast garden, and the palace is surrounded by a military base.

The air battleship was moored at a berth a short distance from the castle.

As I came down, I glanced at the battleship.

It has a propeller, but it’s too small to be used to levitate. It probably uses a light gas. I didn’t have time to look at it closely, so I thought it would be interesting if it was hydrogen, and followed the heavy armored man.

By the way, they resemble the space marines in my faded memory. I guess people’s aesthetic senses are not that different from each other.

anyway.

I arrived at a place in the palace.

It was a place that seemed considerably more solid than other places. It was a building that seemed to have reduced aesthetics and increased practicality.

I thought I would be dragged out and made to drink spicy soup through my nose, but that didn’t happen.

After a few visits, the number of people following me decreased with each visit, until eventually only one person remained.

I met a man whose face was full of fatigue.

I know, I’ve seen him on TV a few times. He’s the king of this country.

“Hello.”

When I greeted him, his eyes furrowed slightly. There was a look of disgust on his face.

But looking at the expression on his face, it’s closer to a passing dislike that comes when someone has no manners or etiquette, rather than a hatred for people.

Originally, etiquette was a means for the higher-ups to control the lower-ups and to divide the levels between people.

This is a behavioral pattern called habitus.

The reason why people who suddenly become rich are looked down on as nouveau riche is simple. It’s because they don’t know the behavior patterns of the truly rich, so they end up being just rich scoundrels.

In that way, it is natural to frown when you see someone acting out of place.

I guess I look like that too.

“Are you Bell? A stranger who gives people the miracle of blessing.”

Your speech is strange.

You must have been briefed on me, is that what you’re saying?

Or a test of something?

I don’t know much about reading emotions.

Then, you should do what you were doing. Don’t lie, be consistent. Do just one thing.

“Now I use the name Bell.”

That means it’s not your real name.

“What was your original name?”

“No. If you’re alone, you don’t need a name.”

There are words to describe me, but no one can describe that sea.

Oh, of course, if you leave it down there for too long, things that are presumed to be of the same species will appear, but I killed them all because they steal my warmth, and I will kill any more I see in the future.

Stealing away warmth?

Because I can’t just leave it like that.

Meanwhile, he’s been exploring me diligently.

I look at it from top to bottom, and I just stare at it blankly.

There is no reason to be nervous. Of course, since there is a reserve harvester called the powerful one in front of you, you have to somehow coax and persuade them into signing a contract in order to create an automatic harvesting system.

But I don’t do that.

No matter how stupid you may be, you know what you need to know.

The moment I show desire, it strangles me.

I don’t think I can win a fight against a professional who uses sociality as a weapon. One mistake can be fatal.

So you hold your breath and hold on, hold on, hold on until you can bite the neck for sure.

Humans grow old and weak someday.

Can you resist this one chance?

It’s very difficult. Most people would give in.

A living being can resist pain and degradation, but it is nearly impossible to endure improvement. It is not about improving others, but about improving oneself.

I can’t even be jealous, because it’s me.

If I had been suffering from adult diseases because I was full of fat, the period would have been a bit shorter.

For someone in power, this guy is overly physically fit.

I’m sorry.

“Yes. I’ve heard many stories about you. The blessing. Do you intend to use it for our royal family?”

I forced myself to suppress a smile.

You want to volunteer to be a harvester? Of course, I want to say. But I have to hold back here. Not yet.

A little more.

“If you wish, I will do it. Do you wish?”

The choice is yours, and I am just a vending machine that does whatever you ask.

I move objectively, so the question is to push away the subjectivity, saying it is only yours.

The king answered my question like this:

“I hope.”

“Yes, I understand.”

I nodded. I should have added that I originally made three people a day here, but in this world, I’ve already made thousands a day.

Saying 3 is partly to control harvester production, but from the perspective of the person who put me in control, once I make 3 a day, I don’t have to worry about it until the next day.

That is, the boundaries are reduced.

Now that I’ve gained a lot of memory, I understand that Yasle let me go quite freely because she knew she’d be relieved once she made three harvesters.

The foreign correspondent who listened to everything I said wasn’t much of a problem. The problem was when other people approached the foreign correspondent who listened to me too well.

The object of my boundary changed from me to someone approaching me.

In that sense, it was a good choice.

It’s already too late, so let’s move on from the regrets.

Anyway, the King calmly explained to me what I was going to do here. Do whatever he tells you to do, go to the Royal Academy, and learn something from now on.

There is no explanation anywhere as to why this should be done. It’s slave-speak.

And he says this.

“From now on, you will be staying in the palace. If you follow what I say, we will also make whatever you wish come true.”

What you want from me is what I want. But I swallowed those words. The story is flowing so well that I wonder if this is okay.

And the king called the man standing at the door. Surprisingly, it was the general. This man.

Shouldn’t a general be wearing uniforms and stationed in a command center or something? Why are they wearing such heavy armor?

Or is this a world where even generals are consumed?

While they were having such trivial questions, the two had a brief conversation and then the king left the room with them.

Hey? Aren’t we just going to break up and throw them in a cage for breeding?

I told you to follow me, so I went somewhere with them.

I left the building and headed towards the outskirts of the palace with a few dozen soldiers, towards what appeared to be a military base.

And then I went into that uniquely white building there.

The person inside tries to salute the man in front, but then kneels and bows to the king behind him.

The King took me inside with a tired expression, telling me to take a step. And then he stopped at a certain place.

This is just a space with chairs, but inside the window, you can see long hoses and strange devices dangling from people.

aha.

Here, it was a hospital.

I know that even if a limb is blown off, it can be resolved with magic, but there are quite a few people who have suffered fatal injuries like this.

Some are covered in blisters, some have cuts that are green. Some look like soldiers, while others are lying down, but they don’t look like soldiers, and there are also children lying there.

Then the glass door opened and an old man came out.

“Your Majesty, you cannot go any further than this.”

“Even after quitting the language, it’s still stiff.”

It was a rude remark, but neither the king nor the doctor paid much attention.

The soldiers behind them glared at the doctor, but when the man at the front, who was said to be a general, looked back and nodded, they all lowered their eyes.

“I’m just doing my job as a doctor.”

The old doctor didn’t even care.

Then the king pointed inside and said,

“The patient inside. Let me see this guy here. Maybe, we can all cure him.”

The doctor stares at me intently at the king’s words. His face is covered with wrinkles, but his eyes are clearer than those of a young man.

The doctor dressed the King and me in special clothes. After wrapping us up tightly, he and the King went inside.

If you listen, you’ll find that all the patients who can’t be cured with magic alone are here.

I recited the contract.

It’s okay if you’re not conscious, because this is transmitted directly through light.

Everyone inside had their hair dyed purple. And almost 90 percent of them had their skin turned blue.

However, I regained my health without missing a single one.

As the old doctor looked at me with searching eyes, the King said to me:

“Thank you.”

So I said this.

“You wished for it.”

The responsibility is all yours. I have no intention of taking any responsibility.

Some people are shocked by my resurrection, some are surprised by my skin turning blue, and some cry and pray when they see me.

I look at the king.

I read a strange earnestness in his expression.

The attempts to test my abilities are too fast.

Is there someone?

Someone who needs me.

Hehehe.

It’s easy to dig into.