The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 745 - 114 - Date With Zeruel...? (5)

Leon’s POV

"Just so we’re clear," I told her, my voice steady but firm, locking eyes with her so she could feel the weight of what I was about to say. "I’m not making this up. The foundation of this method comes directly from research—intense, rigorous work done by a whole team of researchers in the lab. They’ve managed to prove its effectiveness."

"I see..." she murmured, her voice soft, but laced with doubt and tension.

She seemed to pause, her mind racing. I could sense that she was struggling to grasp the depth of what I was trying to say. And to be honest, I couldn’t blame her.

What I was about to reveal wasn’t something easy to digest. I was stalling—yes, because this wasn’t just some theoretical solution. It was real. And it was ethically... complicated.

She probably sensed that too.

I had told her it was something that shouldn’t be done to a human. That alone was a huge red flag. And yet, here I was, preparing to say it out loud. fгeewebnovёl.com

Still, no matter how bizarre or degrading it might sound, I knew—she knew—that if this could bring her mother back, she would hear me out.

She was strong. Stronger than most. And this was about someone she cared deeply for. Someone irreplaceable.

If there was even the slightest chance of waking her up... then she would be willing to do whatever it took.

"W-What is it, Leon?" she asked at last, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

There was a tremble in her tone, that subtle strain that spoke volumes. She wanted the truth—but the fear of hearing it showed in her clenched hands and the way she sat up, stiff and uncertain.

This was more than just a question—it was her desperation speaking.

A silent plea that she was ready to risk anything to save the one she loved.

"In order for her to wake up," I began, carefully choosing my words, "she needs to be infused with a large amount of life force. My life force, specifically."

She blinked, eyes wide with confusion, her mouth opening slightly as if to speak, but no sound came out.

"My life force... seems to be unnaturally potent," I continued. "Potent enough to cure someone who’s been diagnosed with eternal slumber. That potency—it’s been confirmed, and... well, it’s most concentrated in my sperm."

There was a pause.

A long, sharp pause.

Her expression froze. I could see the realization hit her all at once—the understanding of what sperm was, and the implications that came with it.

"W-Wait, you mean...?"

Her voice cracked slightly. Her breath caught.

I could almost hear her mind connecting the dots—the act, the substance, the medical use. It was likely overwhelming.

I immediately clarified, my tone calm but firm. "If you’re thinking that I plan to do something with her body—no. Absolutely not."

I watched her, letting the intensity of my words settle into her. I didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.

"I’m planning to dilute it as much as possible," I said. "The chemists at Leonamon will work to isolate the life force from the sperm. We’ll refine it—refactor it—to preserve the healing properties while stripping away everything else. Ideally, it will be reduced to a liquid that can be swallowed without any association to its source. It won’t look like sperm. It won’t taste like it. We’ll separate the active component and embed it in something else entirely."

I sighed softly, the weight of everything I had just said sinking in again. "Even so, it is degrading. Creating a cure out of something like this... it’s not exactly noble. That’s why I’ve been looking into other methods. But nothing else has produced results. Nothing even comes close. That’s why I’m asking you—if, somehow, you’re willing to allow this... should we proceed?"

I looked at her, giving her space to process it.

She was silent for a long time.

But her eyes—her eyes weren’t filled with disgust. Or fear. Or judgment.

No. She understood.

She saw that I wasn’t saying this lightly. I wasn’t being careless.

I was doing everything I could to save her mother—with whatever tools I had.

"Are you going to allow it?" I asked softly, locking eyes with her.

She stared at me, unmoving for a moment. Then, in a quiet, determined voice, she spoke.

"I’m fine with it."

My eyes widened slightly. The simplicity of her answer—the immediacy—caught me off guard.

I hadn’t expected that kind of resolve. Not so quickly.

She should’ve taken more time to think. Most people would.

"Are you sure?" I asked again, my voice laced with uncertainty.

She nodded.

"I-I think... if she were awake, and able to speak... she’d agree to it too," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "That’s just who she is. She’d do anything to come back to us. That’s how deeply she loves us."

She swallowed hard, then looked me straight in the eyes.

"And you said it’s not necessarily sperm anymore, right? It’s something you’re planning to dilute—to make it into something that’s safe to swallow, without even knowing what it used to be. So... I don’t think it’s degrading. If anything, I think it’s... kind. It’s a cure. A way to bring her back."

Her words... hit me hard.

There was no judgment. Only clarity. Conviction.

She meant every word.

Leonamon was doing this for them. For her. Not for fame, not for money. And certainly not for any selfish reason.

She knew that.

And she knew she could never repay me—not in this lifetime.

When she finished, I smiled at her. A soft, genuine smile that I rarely showed anyone.

"Alright then," I said.

A moment later, the waitress—Amy—returned.

Her eyes were still closed, yet she walked with graceful precision, as if she could sense the space around her without needing sight.

"Here it is, Master," she said with her usual soft voice. "And yours too, miss."

She gently set down the plates of cake and cups of tea before us, the aroma of warm sweetness wafting through the air.

"Thank you, Amy," I said.

With that, we began to eat.

The heaviness from earlier slowly faded as the conversation shifted—casual things about the academy, about the world’s current state.

Despite the earlier topic, it turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant time.

I found myself enjoying the moment.

Then, after a few bites, I said casually, "Oh, by the way, I’m going to submit my ’samples’ to the chemists tomorrow."

She paused mid-sip, blinking.

"Since it’s Saturday, I want to take this opportunity to learn more about the medicine they’re going to try and develop using the sample. If you want, you can come with me."

"I will," she said immediately, without hesitation.

The answer came so fast it made me smile again.

She wasn’t doing this out of obligation. It wasn’t even just about her mother anymore.

She simply wanted to be with me.

And in that moment, I realized—no matter how strange the path, it was one we were walking together.

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