The Outer God Needs Warmth

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The faint hues of sunset have completely dipped below the horizon, revealing a pitch-black night sky.

Yet, the path I tread is bright enough that the stars in the night sky are scarcely visible.

This means the light illuminating the night is bright.

Moreover, since this is a relatively upscale area, there aren’t any suspicious people around, and there’s a soldier on duty by the roadside. The security is assured.

If I walk a bit further from where the fence of the Royal Academy ends, I’ll reach a main road, where I turn right and continue downward.

Perhaps because it’s darker than during the day when school lets out, there are hardly any people on the streets, with only the occasional car whizzing by.

As I pass through such streets, I see a noisy avenue in the distance, and shortly after, my home appears.

I rummage through my pocket to pull out a key and check the mailbox attached to the fence by the entrance. I never intended to use the mailbox key, but since my living expenses come as letters, it somehow ended up this way.

The mailbox was empty. I checked it and locked it again with the key before stepping inside.

The small space between the fence and the door is designed for a garden. But since it’s neglected, now only wild grass grows there.

When winter fully departs and spring arrives, I’m planning to tend to it a little.

As I unlock the door and step inside, there’s a space to shake off dirt, and beside it are slippers.

I change into the slippers and step inside.

Actually, I could just walk in wearing my shoes, but I prefer not to because it makes the floor dirty.

You can’t live with bare feet here; it’s not a mat but a stone floor, making it unsuitable for walking barefoot.

So, I change into the slippers and head inside.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of a door creaking open behind me.

Huh? Isn’t it a bit early for someone to come from the accommodation?

Turning around, I see a person suddenly leap in from the darkness outside.

They rush straight toward me and immediately cover my mouth.

Having been outside for too long, I feel the cold temperature and faintly smell a musty odor. It’s the stench of someone unwashed, but not someone whose odor has soaked into their skin like the impoverished.

What’s this?

“Because of you, I ended up like this!”

They blurt out something strange.

Under the light, their face is revealed.

Rabo Pasilie.

What is this? It’s the boy who didn’t show up at school today.

He might be somewhat hefty, as he completely bears down on me. Moreover, judging by how he targeted my mouth from the start, is this premeditated?

“Miracle Girl? You shouldn’t dare touch me? Don’t mess around! Why should I be chased away for touching a bug-like commoner?!”

I wish he’d loosen his grip on my mouth.

So I grabbed his arm and pulled.

“Ugh!”

He flinched and tightened his grip on my arm.

To make things bearable, I need to talk to him.

“Just stay still!”

Bang!

He grabbed my head and slammed it against the wall. Yep. My head is ringing. Not like I want to make a fuss about this or anything, so I’d appreciate it if he calmed down.

“Stay! Still!”

This time, it’s not the hand that covered my mouth but the other hand that slapped my face. Hitting my face like that easily makes me recoil.

Crack.

Ouch.

In an instant, the back of my head feels hot, and a chilling sensation runs through my brain.

Ah. My vision isn’t aligned. No, has my optic nerve already been severed?

“Uh, uh, huh? What’s happening?”

The boy in front of me looks flustered. My head has been slammed against the umbrella stand near the shoe rack, with a metal rod puncturing my right eye and sticking out.

Wait, in this case, should I say my head is the one stuck deeper?

That umbrella stand, made of a stylish steel frame, was hazardous. I’ll need to remove it later.

“Am I, am I dead? Right?”

He mumbles in front of me. As a noble, this is his first time seeing someone die, looking stupidly terrified.

Well, yes. If my head is lodged in a steel frame with an eyeball sticking out at the other end, it’d be gross.

He hesitantly walked a step forward and kicked my body with his foot.

So, I slumped sideways while sitting. I can see the blood staining the floor from the eye still lodged in my head.

By the way, what’s that liquid? Brain matter?

He curses under his breath.

“What the hell, I killed her!”

Then he suddenly looks around, startled, and starts shouting.

“This is an accident! An accident! I didn’t kill her! It just happened by chance!”

He’s shouting fervently, but since I’m the only one living here, no one will hear him.

It seems he’s shouting for someone to hear, yet when he notices no one is there, he abruptly falls silent. After a long pause, he stumbles back from me and collapses.

Ah, he must have shouted that way in case someone was present. But since there isn’t anyone, he’s relieved.

“Hey, she’s really dead? No, right? She just fainted?”

No. Well.

If it’s the body, yes, it’s dead.

Truly, if you mess with the brain, even a body with strong regeneration powers would die immediately. This body turns out to be weaker than I thought.

As soon as I criticize my body, Daegon’s memories flood into my mind, suggesting that I’ve messed myself up and made it this weak.

To put it bluntly, as long as this body is there to contain me and remain in this world, it only needs to match the others’ level.

And without needing confirmation, it’s evident that my body is dead.

It’s already turned into a pool of blood. As it’s a stone floor, the blood doesn’t soak in. Yep.

But how can so much blood flow out from a head wound? The brain vessels? They say there are major arteries leading to the brain from the heart.

Perhaps one was sliced when it was pierced.

No matter how driven by lust and madness, there’s no way anyone could do this to a corpse, with fear and disgust mixing on his face as he looks down at me.

Then he buries his face in his hands.

“Oh, no. This isn’t my fault. That bitch was unnecessarily rebellious, so there. So it’s all her fault. I’m not bad. She just died on her own, that’s all!”

He’s desperately trying to justify himself, talking to himself. It’s a form of self-rationalization.

It’s so funny; I think I’ll save my regeneration for later.

“If it was permitted by her, then everything would’ve been fine, right? If that strange foreign girl hadn’t come and interrupted me. No, it’s Victoria! That woman is the worst! I picked her just because she’s pretty! How dare she refuse me? It’s all that woman’s fault! All of it! That I ended up like this! That she ended up like this!”

He’s spewing words at me at breakneck speed.

As if negotiating with someone invisible, he’s methodically trying to prove his innocence.

Aside from the fact that his reasoning is fundamentally flawed, it’s a suitable negotiation for him. All he has to do is make me the villain.

Moreover, it’s easy for him since he only needs to persuade himself.

“Ha, haha. Right. It’s all Victoria’s fault. After all, she’s a commoner, right? If I said she’s bad, everyone will understand. My father would surely see it that way. Yep. Since I’m not the bad one, right? Even if she’s slightly recognized by people, she’s still a commoner, right? If I just kill her, everything will go back to normal.”

Hehe.

He starts chuckling.

Yet even while laughing, there’s not a trace of joy on his face. Rather, with time, despair deepens. Contrary to his words, he knows the true gravity of his situation.

And indeed, deep down, he understands that his excuses hold little weight.

No matter how he struggles, his wrongdoings won’t let him go.

He curls up and covers his face with his hands.

He looks like a weeping child.

Slowly, a sob escapes him.

As the blood pooling on the floor slowly begins to congeal.

“This is a dream. Hehe. A dream. Yes. It’s a dream. When I wake up, everything will be fine.”

He has finally fled from reality.

Reacting like this after killing someone is akin to an insect. I wish he’d behave a bit more nonchalantly while facing a corpse.

No matter how indifferent I am to what happens to my body.

There are still preferences.

Thus, instead of reciting a contract document as usual, I present him with a different option.

“Then do you wish for pleasure?”

He jumps in surprise.

He glances around before looking at me with a pale face.

“Rabo Pasilie. Do you wish for pleasure?”

As I call his name, he completely falls into terror, retreating against the wall.

He looks as though he’s seen a ghost.

“I can only bring you pleasure.”

So I say, still submerged in the bloodbath, looking at him with one eye jutting out from the stick and the one still lodged in my head.

“Are you blocked?”

Thus, I gently help him realize his reality.

“W-What? You’ll make me happy? You?”

Laughing awkwardly, he asks. However, I do not respond. Instead, I extend my hand.

Ah. My hand is extending at a strange angle because I’m in this broken state. But it should be fine since I’ll regenerate anyway.

“Take my hand if you want to feel joy. If you want to escape the reality of facing a murderer. Take my hand.”

Rabo Pasilie hesitates for quite a while. Then, with a dazed expression of despair, he crawls toward me.

“Will it really solve everything?”

So I smiled.

“Of course.”

He hurriedly grabbed my hand.

Do you know? I’ve created vessels for people in the second world. I might not be able to create anything as unique as a twisted aberration, but I can manage a vessel.

Back then, I contained an explosion.

If I could hold something like that, then surely I could contain something else too.

So I make a slight application. Instead of an explosion, I’ll contain joy.

It’s alright; the emotion is already there, right? So, I just need to extract the joy from that vessel called body.

Then he became a mass of meat and was kneaded in the air.

Moments later, a doll-sized humanoid figure appeared in his place. Yep. Although it’s smiling, the skin texture is a bit grotesque.

While regenerating my body, I could easily sever its entire body. Might as well apply some enhancements like it’s a doll.

I forcibly stamp down reality.

Crack.

Ah. There’s a crack.

A fine crack has appeared in reality. Well, I think it’ll manage to heal on its own, but I’ll need to be careful moving forward.

I lifted the doll in front of me.

It resembles something that would appear on Sesame Street. It’s not red but purple, yet I feel like I’ve seen something like this before.

I squeezed its belly tightly.

“Hehehe!”

Yup. It looks joyful.

From now on, it will always feel joy. Rabo Pasilie.