The Outer God Needs Warmth-Chapter 155: Nothing is going smoothly (10)

It became the weekend.

Since meeting Polaris, I had expected someone would approach, whether it was Shiodor or another person, but nothing happened.

As expected, predicting the future is difficult.

Still, in the meantime...

I gained a certainty that the people I know and those living in this world are the same.

The Violet Twilight Association.

They didn’t know where the funds came from. So, when the funding was cut off, and as a result, the support for the charity work of the Violet Twilight Association members weakened, suspicion immediately began to rise.

There were suspicions about embezzlement or whether they had taken all they could and were pretending not to know.

People began to suspect each other, and those who had managed the money or were in charge of leadership received a lot of scorn.

When goodwill continues, there are those who feel entitled to it, right?

That’s what happened.

The supplies that should have been provided weren’t given, so the person in charge was at fault!

Of course, the person in charge said the funding was cut off, but some people didn’t believe it. The percentage of people who didn’t believe it was very small, but the loud voices dominated.

There were educated people and uneducated people among them.

They made the problem bigger while not understanding the efforts of those working in the field, accusing the administrators of exploiting profits.

I suppose they’ve forgotten that the Violet Twilight Association is a charity.

Hehe.

Still.

Still, they hadn’t fought to the point of killing each other.

But the group, now mixed with harvesters and others, was planning to attack the office workers and extort whatever they could. Cowardly, they were planning to incite people to fight so they could take advantage during the chaos.

People who want to profit while inciting others to fight.

To them, the truth no longer mattered.

What mattered was that they hadn’t received what they believed was rightfully theirs, and the others were at fault.

It’s quite impressive.

If possible, I would like to turn the people around me into harvesters too. The image of harvesters has already been provided by the Dormiens royal family.

So I don’t need to worry about it being ruined and becoming a public enemy like in the second world.

In a few days, I’ll probably be able to gain some warmth.

The problem is that fighting decreases the numbers...

No, wait.

Now, I don’t have to worry about the image of the harvester, right?

I should increase the harvest period. It’s fine if the harvesters and humans mix and fight and I gain warmth from it. But there’s a problem.

The experiment I’m currently conducting.

Daegon and the Ancient Heavenly Sovereign. Which technique is better for sending someone off easily?

Culture becomes dough kneaded with blood. When the bricks of technology are stacked, blood flows down, and the dough covered in culture prevents it from collapsing. But when technology rises faster than that, it rises in a tattered state.

And someday, even when the blood and flesh are scattered on the ground, they won’t touch. That’s when the tower collapses under the flowing blood.

When it collapses, it’s not the technology that falls. It’s humanity.

After that, even if the bricks of technology are stacked, a tower of humanity will not be built. It will just lie scattered on the ground.

There were many such instances in my faded memories.

Even when countless workers die in factories every day, nothing changes. Even if they talk, it becomes something that never existed.

When a human life becomes smaller than the inconvenience of many people, the world comes to naturally grind people down. You only need to do it once.

Just once.

Then it’s over. It will never return to how it was. Once a threshold is crossed, it becomes easy to cross the next one. After that, no matter how many people die, it becomes a common occurrence.

Now people say things like this:

"Why pretend to be good?"

The ruined morality is admirable.

It means it’s a world where you can consistently gather warmth.

That’s exactly what I want.

A world that talks about human value but doesn’t act for that value.

It doesn’t rush to extremes, so it lasts long. People inside, distracted by moderate comfort, turn a blind eye to the people dying. Such a world will stagger forward, but it will move a great distance.

It means warmth can be gathered for a very long time. And that will increase as the number of people grows.

But if the harvesters decrease too much from this fight, technological progress will slow down.

So, thinking about the future, I need to replenish things beforehand.

Without hesitation, I went outside. If I hadn’t gone out, I would have stayed in my room all weekend.

Interestingly, none of the people working asked me where I was headed. As soon as I said I was leaving, they changed my clothes and sent me off immediately.

So, I left the house, walked down the main street, and kept walking along the main road.

The location was the slums of the capital.

If this world is just beginning to develop, then this place should have everything I need.

Ruined and decaying, people desperately hoping to become harvesters.

People who would eagerly rush for even the smallest light.

People who, like lemmings, blindly follow others, rushing to the bottom.

Tapping my feet.

I walked diligently with my short legs.

A faint but penetrating rotten smell. The stench of fish and sewage, mixed with a strong chemical smell.

The ground is no longer a smooth stone path like the one I had walked before, but rather cracked and worn down to earth.

And above it, people dressed in filthy clothes walk by.

A man who looks red in the face, stumbling, possibly from alcohol or drugs. A woman out on the street in thin clothes, trying to sell herself. An old man crawling with legs but no feet.

Beggars and vagrants. The detritus of society gathered in one place.

Originally, such places weren’t supposed to be in the center, but were pushed far away, right? Because deep despairing humans were the ones I had exploded before.

To avoid that, those who exploited them must have thrown them away far.

But here they are, right in the middle of the city.

Did they forget?

Or did they not realize how serious these people are?

Of course, I no longer wastefully explode them, but I still have some doubts.

With such thoughts, I walked right into the middle of that street.

At least, it’s good there’s no smoke. Places like this are often where all kinds of pollution accumulate, but this one doesn’t have that.

Maybe, using too much magic has made the city lack mana, causing side effects like what happened in Vern City. But the only smells here are of unswept garbage and decaying creatures.

Unlike the Whitechapel-like places from my faded memories, I can breathe here.

As soon as I entered, countless gazes pierced me like a welcome greeting.

My clothes are very clean. They could either kill me and strip me down, or capture and sell me.

I walked deeper into the street.

Of course, there are people following me, not just watching me.

I stopped in the middle of the street and waited for a bait. If a young girl in expensive clothes stands around blankly, people will approach her.

And just as expected, a man, his face blackened with dirt, walked toward me. He put his hand on my shoulder as if to make sure I couldn’t escape.

"Hey kid, are you lost?"

"Hello."

The man I wanted to find had arrived.

A man whose face was full of desire. I’ll use my memories to get him to talk.

"You’re screaming."

"Hey, what’s this girl saying?"

"Hehe, the one screaming is not me, it’s you."

From the side, some scrawny men approached. They’ve taken something from me before, and now here, they’ll do it again. The only reason they don’t kidnap me immediately is because this is their territory, I guess.

"People should do what they want."

As I said my usual line, the surrounding crowd burst into laughter.

"I wish you’d just strip right now!"

"Wow, look at that fair skin."

"Isn’t that a bit too pale?"

I just look at the man who spoke first and continue the conversation.

"You have things you want to do, but you’ve forgotten. Since you have nothing to hold onto, survival became your priority. But you once dreamed, didn’t you?"

Slap.

I was slapped across the cheek.

"Is your head in the clouds? Do you think the world is a fairy tale? Where did you see something weird?"

Then the surrounding conversation turned crude. But no one pitied me. It’s the perfect decayed place.

I speak the contract to make harvesters.

"I will give myself to you. In exchange, when you finish everything, I’ll take everything you have. How about it?"

As soon as I finished speaking, the men surrounding me snickered.

"Wow, she’s offering herself. A saint, huh?"

"Hehe, wow. This is definitely a new kind of taste. Let’s take her quickly."

"Oh, look, no chest, huh? Right?"

With so many people around, at least one of them agrees.

Saying you’ll do anything digs into the heart like magic. If it’s someone weaker than them, it will sound like submission.

One man’s skin turned like porcelain. Then, crack. His skin began to crumble like broken porcelain.

Screaming, the men ran off.

"What the hell did this bitch do!"

"What, is she here to cast some evil magic, witch!"

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They screamed, glaring at me, but I pointed at the harvester with my finger.

"Uh. What? My hand. It’s white. Something’s weird. My body feels cool. It’s not itchy at all."

A man whose hair turned purple and his skin turned white looked at himself in confusion.

"I gave myself to you. Now, you can dream."

Eyes turned toward me.

And with the murmurs around, people started talking about me. The incident in Vern City.

The royal family began promoting it seriously.

When there are this many people, someone is bound to know.

Doubt becomes realization, and realization turns into desire. Originally, the basic strategy here was to incite people by telling them to believe in gods, dragging them to their dens, but because the royal family doesn’t like the religious tone, they changed it to dreams.

"Everyone deserves to dream. Do what you want, get what you desire, and draw a wonderful future."

Then I slowly looked around, meeting the eyes of those who were watching.

"Stop screaming. I’ll change it for you."

I didn’t say it would get better. It’s more terrible than being pushed into a slaughterhouse, but they will never know their true identity until they die.

And for the finale, I said this:

"Everyone here."

I said I would make them harvesters. With that meaning, everyone glanced at each other. When you weaken, you end up looking around.

But there are people in a hurry.

There’s a reason such people exist in places like this slum, so I came here.

If you’re wealthy, you’d probably ignore this as a scam. Or maybe you’d reconsider and leave. But this place is different.

"Are you going to heal this?"

A big man, half of his face burnt, walked toward me.

I immediately recited the contract, and the man accepted it. Not only did he recover completely, but he became healthier. Those watching saw his face, now without a single scar, and rushed to me.

They hurriedly came, afraid they’d miss their turn.

The next part was easy.

I made contracts with people of all ages, both men and women.

In this place alone, I gained 15,239 harvesters.

Now I insert memories into them. If the experiment succeeds, the lowest classes will have great techniques.

The world.

Has the value of social outcasts increased?

It’s obvious, even without saying.

Now I just have to wait.