The weekday has returned again.
It's very fast since there's only one day that can be called a weekend.
Rather, it's strange that there's a time called the weekend. There are more worlds where such rest days don't exist.
Anyway, it's now during class.
It's a history class, but there are so many heavily edited parts that it makes you wonder if it's really a history class, to the point where you question if this is okay.
Like explaining a war without explaining the reason for its outbreak, or suddenly tens of years disappearing while saying some country was invaded at some point.
Of course, later on, so many countries were destroyed that not much remained, but there are many lacking points to call it history.
Still, there are some interesting things too. In what's presumed to be the history book learned last semester, there's a story about a hero who actually caught the Demon King.
Surprisingly, he didn't become a king or die stabbed by people like a useless hunting dog, but lived a long life running a restaurant. It was really funny that the textbook said he made delicious food based on what he tasted while crossing the continent.
Anyway.
Rather than the distant past, the history class with more to read ends, and it's lunchtime.
"What on earth did you do yesterday?"
Victoria put down a newspaper in front of me. Wondering what it was, I looked and saw the incident of me creating harvesters in the slums written on the front page.
It's a picture of me taken from afar and people gathered kneeling waiting for their turn.
It's written as if a saintess has appeared in modern times.
This isn't the way the Dormiens royal family wants, but they published it well. They were trying quite hard to remove the religious aspect, will this newspaper company be shut down too?
But for something like that, this newspaper is a famous one known by most of my harvesters. It's famous not only here but also in Bern City.
Or maybe a correction article will be published. Because many people like it.
"I gave myself to those who wanted me."
"What does that mean?"
Victoria makes a puzzled expression. I don't understand why she can't understand when I say it like this.
"Don't you remember when we contracted?"
"I remember vividly. No, what I want to ask is why you suddenly went to such a place."
Here, I could answer directly, but to add to the image of not knowing much about the world, I asked like this:
"Such a place?"
"The slums are dangerous, aren't they."
Yes. It's generally a dangerous place. I know that too. It's clearly a place where people die or disappear, and a place you shouldn't approach if you're in your right mind.
It's the same as not going to areas with poor public safety to protect yourself when traveling.
But you know, Victoria.
"It's a place where people who want to live more but can't move forward are screaming. Like Victoria who was there that day."
She too was waiting for death while turning into a Sahaggin. The girl who wanted so badly to become a clockwork knight did what she could until her death in that desperate crisis.
Of course, she failed at the very end and collapsed, but even then she destroyed the nest. After that, she was waiting for death, full of despair and resignation.
"Ah, uh. That's, right."
Victoria scratches her head vigorously. It's an unladylike action, but it shows how much that day remains as a wound in her heart.
On the outside, she was more than a special forces, but human hearts aren't that simple.
At this rate, it looks like her skin will be scraped off, so I grab her arm and lower it. Victoria is still not of age to be an adult.
"Did you go to save people?"
Victoria looks at my hand and then raises her head to ask me.
Saving people, so it looks like that? In reality, it's the opposite. Because taking away warmth is taking away all the possibilities that soul has.
That's what taking away warmth means.
To put it simply, it's closer to experimenting on those who have fallen from society under the pretext of treating them for human experiments.
"No. That's something they should do on their own. I just went and gave lip service saying they can still dream."
I divided the harvesters in half, half for the Great Kraken, half for the Primordial Heavenly Lord. I'm cutting and inserting their memories. I tell people to do what they want, but do you know?
Most people live without dreams. They don't know what they want to do.
But what if something flows into that?
Wouldn't that become a dream?
It's all deception. You always have to be careful about what you say on the outside. So as not to be caught. Even if caught, to make it seem like this person did it because they're kind.
For reference, I interpret this kind person as someone who gives benefits.
I take many people into my embrace.
The first world handled over 100 million people. Probably the world won't collapse just because a few tens of thousands of people became harvesters.
Even if they have children, the contract is inherited, not me. It's judged that the contract is already in place so I can put it in without permission, but I don't automatically enter.
In other words, it means I can choose not to put it in. I'm thinking of managing the descendants of harvesters in that way.
"Lip service, you..."
"It's true."
Yes. It's true.
I let go of Victoria's hand. Most harvesters are rejoicing as if they've received a new life. But they'll soon realize.
Nothing has changed.
Unless they were missing limbs or had severe scars, most haven't changed much.
Their bodies have improved and they've become smarter, but it's difficult to instantly reverse their position in a highly advanced society just by that degree of improvement. Because the wall to cross classes gets higher as time passes.
If it were a world like the second world where only strength matters, it might be different, but in a world where killing people is natural, even if you advance to a higher position, it's just that the tool for killing changes from a knife to people, isn't it?
Anywhere is fine.
What's important is the memory itself that someone once reached out a hand and lifted them up. People who have been continuously despairing accept reality without warmth and with resignation.
But if they've seen hope, people can make efforts. They can do anything to get better. No matter how cowardly and dirty the act.
This is why false hope is good.
Morally speaking, there's no problem at all. I just told them good stories to dream, right?
I'm proud.
But it's difficult to explain why it's lip service. Because I must only speak the truth, I might make a mistake somewhere. So I slightly twist the topic.
"Victoria is also moving to achieve her dream, right? That's why you seem busy these days. How are you doing?"
I ask about what Victoria has been doing during the time she hasn't been with me. Of course, I know everything she's doing because I can see from Victoria's perspective, but it would be strange if I knew things I shouldn't know, right?
So I listen in advance like this.
"Me? Yesterday I met with a teacher from the Clockwork Knight School for an interview. I went with a teacher from here and decided to learn what I can learn!"
There, Victoria looks up at the sky for a moment.
"It's like attending two schools, but that's a problem I can somehow manage if I try hard. The teachers are helping a lot, so I'm going to work hard too."
There really are many good people.
The teacher from the Royal Academy and the teacher from the Clockwork Knight School. There must be some difference, but when Victoria said she would do it, both of them didn't dislike it and rather happily agreed to accommodate her in various ways.
The Clockwork Knight School teacher seems to be treating her well because Victoria was originally a hardworking student, but the Royal Academy teacher is really unexpected.
If you think about it, she's learning from someone else, not them, right?
Or maybe Victoria entered at a good time when there was such a teacher.
If there's such a thing as fate, it wouldn't be for Victoria.
Because if it weren't for me, Victoria would have died there.
Rather, an ideal environment for me might be in the process of being set up in Bern City. A society that uses people like fuel by grinding them up.
It would be too radical and perish at some point, but it would exist at least until the point where it's discarded due to low efficiency.
Thinking about that, it might have been better for me if Victoria had died there.
Hmm... No.
Then I wouldn't have been able to contact the Dormiens royal family like this and turn that princess into a harvester. Let's say it wasn't particularly bad.
And perhaps.
If even I am within the great stem of fate.
I'll break that fate no matter what. The thing that threw me to the bottom and made me shiver in the cold.
I can't forgive it.
"Belle. Your expression is scary. What is it? Do you dislike being separated from me or something?"
"I was just thinking about something upsetting."
I was about to talk about fate, but I swallowed it. This isn't something to say to people.
"I'm worried that at this rate, Victoria won't make a single friend. Do you have time to meet friends while studying?"
Victoria makes an expression as if a sore spot has been poked.
"Ah, no. Because studying is important? I can make friends later. Yeah. You cheered for my dream too, right? It should be fine. Probably."
She's making excuses.
It seems she herself realizes there's a problem. Wouldn't it be better to go to Polaris and receive a factory and work there?
The main work seems like it would be killing someone rather than being a clockwork knight.
Huh? Isn't this better for me?
"Victoria. How about going to meet Polaris?"
So I subtly asked. Victoria shakes her head left and right with a blank expression.
"I already rejected that, and before doing that, I want to try what I can do first. I feel like I'll be crying for help when exam period comes, but..."
"If you're that determined, do as you wish."
Then Victoria stretched out her finger and poked my cheek.
"You're sly. What about you, Belle? What do you want to do from now on? It's been quite a while since you came here. Isn't there anything you want to do?"
Hmm.
About half of it is sincere.
"I need warmth. Always. So I'm constantly working to get warmth. What was in this newspaper was also that."
Then Victoria tilts her head.
"Warmth?"
"Someday when people do what they want and die, I'll just take the last remaining warmth there, leaving the soul behind."
While using sentences that are easy to misunderstand, I only speak the truth. I twist words to make them mistake completely different things as the same.
"Wherever Victoria goes from now on, wherever you are, I'll be with you until you die."
"No, I have to get married someday and such, so I can't be with you forever!"
Ah, right. You can misunderstand my words like that? At times like this, I should speak a little more clearly like this:
"Even if this body dies and disappears first, I'll be with you."
She looks at me with a surprised expression. It's cute how worry seeps into it.
"I don't want Belle to die before me."
"The body is just a vessel. You don't need to worry about that because I myself can't die."
Victoria looks at me with an expression mixed with emotions that are difficult to put into words.
"Is that what they call a god?"
"Then, shall I call myself an outer god as others do?"
I said that jokingly and got up from the table.
If we're too late, the next class will start. That's how lunchtime ended.