The Outer God Needs Warmth

Chapter 7



I’m not asleep!

Although I am wearing pajamas, curled up, eyes closed, and most sensory signals aren’t reaching my brain…

Huh?

Is this sleeping?

But I clearly feel awake. Even if the information I receive through this body called Rebecca Rolfe is reduced, I only have six senses turned off among hundreds of screens.

My state is stranger than I thought.

With a steady breath, I lie here. But I’m looking around. It’s a third-person perspective, you know.

I’ve been watching from the start, but when the girl is awake, it’s like being fully immersed in a video game.

Right now, it feels like I pulled away from my computer to take a break while gaming. Instead of a computer, I’m looking at the phone next to me, staring at a woman named Joanna Smith.

I’m getting to know a bit about myself, too.

I know it’s weird, but who knows?

Maybe my functions have increased?

My brain is sharper, my face is more attractive, all that stuff.

If reincarnation is true, then it’s something most people experience. Of course, I’ve only seen it in fiction, but stories need to provide some catharsis compared to reality, right?

But this is my reality.

It’s reality, but ironically, it lacks a sense of realism. The only reality for me is this coldness.

So, I crave more warmth.

While I’m thinking this, Hieronymus enters the room. He approaches me cautiously, like he’s trying to explore a sleeping wild animal.

It might be funny if I yelled out loud and scared him, but that would be crossing a line.

Yikes! I might end up making the body I’m in a mess again while saying, “Aha! So you finally showed your true colors!”

I just repelled the warmth that was right in front of me. I’m cold.

But I can endure the cold a little longer.

Looking up at the light, the time spent doing nothing helps me now.

Where did I see this?

They say hunting and farming both require patience.

Hunting. You observe the creature you’re going to catch, find the path they take, and lie in wait. Then you catch it. But more than half the time, you fail. So, you start over.

Farming. You pour an immense amount of labor into it over a long time to eat something. You plant seeds and wait until they grow, warding off countless threats just to barely gather the harvest. But whether it succeeds or fails is in the hands of fate.

Patience is needed, but so is luck.

To lessen that, you need a lot of information.

For now, I must remain quiet and gather.

By the way, is he checking if I’m sleeping and just leaving? If he had taken some other action, I might have reconsidered.

It can’t be helped.

Let’s just agree we’re using each other.

Meanwhile, over there, Joanna Smith is standing in some room.

She looks at her blue hand awkwardly. No, observing how she bends and straightens a finger repeatedly, it seems she’s fascinated by the fact that a finger she thought was lost has returned.

Facing a very old mirror, she gazes at herself with curiosity. Through her eyes, I see her.

It feels like looking at a picture within a picture.

The drag marks on the floor indicate she hadn’t been looking in the mirror before. When I think of her image in memory, she might not have wanted to see it.

But now it’s different.

Joanna is happy to see her changed self. Yet she sometimes tries to call out something but stops.

Huh?

Unfortunately, I can’t clearly tell what she’s thinking, so I don’t know what she wants to say.

It’s possible to guess what she’s thinking through her spoken words or actions, as well as her body’s state. It’s called cold reading.

Cold reading is understanding what someone is thinking by observing their involuntary body movements. This technique is used by con artists, businesspeople, and more.

It’s often said that those who are very sociable subconsciously use this technique as well. It’s just been categorized into easy language.

Joanna soon mumbled a phrase.

That was an order that Hieronymus had just given.

“Become a warrior of faith and care for the one who blessed you.”

Hmm. Quite simple.

Moreover, the motivation is clear.

Unless she’s completely oblivious, it wouldn’t be hard to discern what she thinks of me.

Faith, worship.

In that aspect, people can fall without knowing, but for now, it’s still okay.

She’s focusing on the latter part. However, it’s before something truly important. Offering a delicious bait, then giving orders.

Until now, that delicious bait had only been the blessing of a nonexistent god; now she can physically enjoy the blessing.

So, she chooses to become a warrior of faith capable of killing in the name of belief.

Looking at this situation, it’s exactly the same as ancient assassin groups. They would feed psychotropic substances to show pleasure, and if you obeyed orders, you would reach that garden of ecstasy. They would willingly go to kill, unafraid of death because they’d end up in that pleasure garden.

No less than that. The surrounding environment is structurally set up to completely block out other thoughts. It’s difficult to have doubts about that garden of ecstasy and the one giving orders.

Having people who think the same around you, and even wearing masks becomes a normalcy, thus preventing deep relationships.

Therefore, the desire to connect with someone higher increases even more. The only individuality lies in the patterns revealed on the masks and worn clothing.

To gain this individuality, one must show even stronger loyalty!

Ha ha.

What a truly terrible cult. But since I’ve decided to use this place as a feeding ground, I must adapt.

Before any talk of good or evil, I must survive!

Then she soon dressed in ragged cloth that could cover her head with a mask and headed to the place where they train warriors of faith.

She knows without being told.

Because she’s cleaned this entire underground burrow. Thanks to that, I’ve gotten the full map of this den.

Hehe.

Wow, she knows all the secret spots, too.

People dismissed her as a shabby old woman. A being that could be ignored as if she were simply a cleaning robot, regardless of whether she exists or doesn’t.

Because of that, she knows all the areas. Did you know? She even knows the escape routes. Those passages require maintenance and repairs.

She ensures to maintain light sources on escape routes and checks if anything has collapsed.

Of course, it’s something she normally wouldn’t be able to do. Someone else is supposed to handle that job. But they’re also relatively high-ranking in this cult. So…

They don’t want to do menial tasks.

Isn’t this the so-called human error? It’s said that the biggest threat to security devices isn’t how sophisticated they are, but the people operating them.

As Joanna walked, I rummaged through some of her memories.

I wonder what Hieronymus, who vanished between Joanna and me, is doing, but as long as it’s out of sight, I’ll focus on this.

Meanwhile, Joanna arrived at a place bustling with people called warriors of faith. Surprisingly, it’s quite noisy.

In that space, there are those above from where I was summoned earlier. I can see armors neatly lined up on one side.

And a person in a position like an instructor is beating those in underwear lined up in a difficult position in front of the well-organized armors, shouting angrily.

Listening to him, he’s pouring out words about creating a risk in the presence of the guru, firing shots without commands, and so on, talking about collective responsibility.

But if you listen closely, he’s just afraid that the responsibilities of his failures will fall back on him. I don’t know if Joanna is aware of this, but she seems completely unfazed by the scene.

She must have seen it a lot in her memories.

Of course, she has no sympathy for those being abused. Because once that instructor is gone, they’ll abuse the ones below them.

So Joanna also smartly dodged her body in such situations.

She’s an unfortunate, abused human.

So, she’s a villain.

Goodness is something that can be done by those living happy lives, but it’s a luxury for those living in hell.

That’s why when unhappy people do good, that goodness holds great value. It’s a miracle.

At least there are no such miracles here.

Now, let the villains talk.

Joanna explained first. She wants to become a warrior of faith as commanded by Hieronymus. A hint of jealousy and doubt flickered on the instructor’s face as he tried to size her up.

Naturally, he couldn’t recognize who she was.

The instructor asked for her name, and when Joanna told him, he didn’t know it.

Why? Because she never mentioned it even once. Up until now, Joanna had been just like an NPC standing in the middle of the path without any quest while playing a game.

When the instructor judged Joanna to be a newcomer, he introduced himself, but Joanna knew who he was.

Then he called one of the people he had just flogged.

Claiming he needed to assess her skills first, the instructor urged Joanna to fight.

Joanna accepted it with an unusually calm mind.

Besides the fact that her body is healed and her skin has turned a dark shade, she doesn’t have any particular power, right? I’ve been observing her point of view all along, but she never tried to act like a superhuman and test her strength.

I’m unsure, and the instructor seems unsure, and the opponent fighting in front is unsure too.

The instructor shouted “Begin!”

And at the same time, a guy sneaked up from Joanna’s blind spot and kicked her head with his foot.

Crash!

The mask shatters.

It must have hurt, but Joanna’s body doesn’t show any reaction of fear. She accepts it with such calmness, as if it didn’t hurt at all.

She doesn’t even place a hand on the struck area.

And then another foot comes flying. But Joanna’s eyes are fixed on her opponent. No, just a little below their gaze.

For a brief moment her gaze touches the incoming foot before it falls away. Then, without watching anymore, she blocks it with her hand.

A tremendous shock hits her hand, and she feels her wrist crush, but strangely, there’s no pain. Instead, she pulls the opponent’s leg closer towards her, using her opposite hand to poke the warrior of faith in the chest.

Not the heart.

Physically, it looks like she aimed for the heart, but missed a bit to the side, or it merely stabbed the center.

But I see.

She aimed for a place filled with light.

And as her hand touches the light, warmth reached me.

Hehe, hee hee.

This is the true taste of automatic hunting!

I didn’t do anything, yet warmth! Goodness!

While Joanna wipes the blood and says it’s no big deal, the instructor and the warriors aiming their weapons at her are shocked, but I don’t care about that!

Aha.

I’ve finally learned a new method.

A method that can be used.

If I can, I’d want to pour myself out more indiscriminately. I need to negotiate with Hieronymus, who seemed to step in seamlessly, watching the place from the beginning.

I need warmth.



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