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But it’s too late to stop my story.

Look. The expressions of those gathered here aren’t exactly pleasant, are they?

Honestly, it’s far too harsh for just one person to endure.

But what can we do?

It’s all in the past, and I’ve already talked about it.

I saw Morris and Victoria, whose misfortunes were all but certain, and Beatrice, standing on the edge of it all.

And then there’s Gain and Rebecca. I can’t remember the last time I saw my parents look that old—definitely not as much as Victoria’s age.

The reason is simple.

Morris didn’t want to live in the countryside; he fought with his parents who wanted him to take over the family business and left.

Fortunately, Morris succeeded, but when I think about how he returned, it wouldn’t be strange to think he came back having failed.

No, maybe it’s because he got thrown out as times changed, so maybe “failure” is the right term.

Just looking at that alone suggests his parents are in discomfort, and Beatrice is completely a city person.

If her parents still look down on the city, Beatrice would be like an embodiment of that city.

I suspect the awkwardness between Beatrice and my grandparents comes from that.

Everyone has their own reasons and lives their own lives.

I directed my gaze toward the glaring Victoria and said, “Dream. Don’t stop, and keep going.”

Part of me thinks this way. But the other half feels the opposite. I’ve already done enough. The warmth I gained from the harvesting machine called Victoria is overwhelmingly plentiful.

The number of people who died by drowning from raising the sea to the sky and those who perished merely from the terror of the sea far exceeds a thousand.

To put it simply, I’ve already paid my dues.

Even if I just hang around here for a while, it won’t be long before I start killing people.

There are few truly decent humans in this world, and resolving conflicts with violence is just too easy.

Of course, if you use it recklessly, society will curb you, but if you elevate yourself above the law or disguise it as an accident, it’s alright.

“Did you come all this way just to say that?”

Yeah. A sharp response.

I’ve moved away from Victoria. I’ve said everything I needed to say to those present. What Victoria needs now is time to heal her wounds.

“I’ve said all I need to say.”

Then I looked around at my family present. Gain looked at me with a reluctant expression, Rebecca gazed at me and Victoria with a pitiful look.

Morris was making an extremely perplexed face, and Beatrice stared at me as if she were hearing something strange.

Victoria was furious.

Well, if I’d thrown her away as if I’d never see her again, I can understand why she’d find it annoying to have me trailing behind.

A horrifying incident from a faded memory comes to mind. There was a puppy that had been abandoned twice. Once it went back to find its owner because it had a chip implanted in its body, but it was taken away, had the chip removed with a knife without treating the wound, and was discarded again.

Could it be something like that, I wonder?

As I aimed for the door, Beatrice flinched and took a few steps back. I slipped through the gap left by her and waved goodbye to those watching me.

“Goodbye.”

I said the simple farewell and stepped out of the house.

Perhaps because so much time had passed in speaking, the sky was already dark.

I followed the road as I walked.

I’ve done everything I needed to do.

At least, I believe I’ve done as much for Soo-oh. I helped her dream as much as possible and provided aftercare until the very end.

On top of that, it’s also a reward for the harvesting machine that killed an unprecedented number of humans in this world.

As I walked along the pitch-dark night road with no light, I viewed the world through the eyes of the harvesting machine.

Currently, the capital is somewhat managing the chaos on the streets.

Now soldiers walk the streets instead of the police, but it is not like last time where people were dying indiscriminately.

Moreover, food is distributed separately, and when crimes happen, they gather the parties involved and the spectators for public trial.

An orphan who stole food out of hunger gets his wrist cut off. An old woman who stole clothes out of cold is killed by stones.

It’s not a proper trial.

But it operates to prevent wrongdoing while also preventing the society from going downhill.

Theft quickly escalates to robbery, and robbery transforms into riots like last time. It’s better to snuff it out early, even if it’s harsh.

On the flip side, the residents’ mental state is severely deteriorating, but it’s not at the point of rioting.

And in such a society, the harvesting machines are thriving.

Anyway, someone is needed to transport goods through this dangerous space. If transportation ceases because the situation is bad, the situation doesn’t improve; it only gets worse.

Moreover, at first, there was only one person using it, but before long, the number of people using Cheonma Martial Art increased.

Cheonma Martial Art stroke.

That means using me to fight.

They draw me out from within them and throw me at their opponent. With just that, the opponent dies. No matter what armor they don, or what techniques they use, it pierces through and kills instantly.

I don’t know why that’s possible, but they do it anyway.

But if you ask if I’m diminished in the vessel they bear, the answer is absolutely not. If a ray of light is like a small glass cup, tossing me into that sea wouldn’t empty the cup by using me.

If it were otherwise, I would’ve immediately retrieved my warmth.

But it doesn’t do that; it only draws warmth from me, and I happily permit it.

In any case, most of the harvesting machines, mostly from the Brightshin slums, are living well in the capital. Of course, some are struggling, and there are those who have died of starvation.

But that’s unavoidable.

Not every harvesting machine can thrive.

However, it’s unfortunate that many harvesting machines wade through different areas, so among those living in the capital, there are few who use the techniques I’ve instilled.

Fortunately, they do exist, just not many.

A handful of harvesting machines have created devices to absorb the lives of others for fuel. They are used in the shadows.

The existing power devices emit specific sensations when absorbing magic power, which makes it easy for others to detect.

If you use a winding device, they come in a group to beat you up.

But this device doesn’t seem to have that sort of feel.

Unable to withstand the cold, or perhaps because those on the brink of dying need the winding devices to survive, a technique utilizing lives is spreading in the dark.

How do you use it, you ask?

They take orphans without parents, near-death elderly, or easily abductable women from the slums to use them for fuel.

They warm up, and I, in turn, gain warmth too.

The corpses just get dumped in an alleyway.

Then, in an instant, they are devoured by wild animals, leaving not even bones behind. They become just another dead person who couldn’t withstand the cold.

Even on a winter night that’s so mild it’s rare to see water freezing, there are still quite a few people dying from the cold.

Especially now, when resources are limited.

Nevertheless, most of the harvesting machines living in the capital are managing to make a living through transportation.

Meanwhile…

Bern City is tightly closed off, developing new technology. However, it is neither the kind of technology that uses magic power circulating in the air, like in the capital, nor the kind that uses life force.

It is the technology of the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign.

It means the method used by Kunlun.

Instead of indiscriminately sucking magic power from nature or living beings, they build paths for the flow of magic power and use something like a waterwheel to generate power from that flow.

It’s certainly much less efficient compared to power devices. To get the power produced by a power device the size of a fist, you’d need a building as big as a small house.

But it doesn’t emit tainted magic power.

In fact, it works properly even in areas filled with tainted magic power.

This world, which has suffered critical wounds to modern technology, has begun developing technologies that can counteract that modern technology.

In the neighboring village of Bern City…

At Nantes Port, Richard Gaston is working hard to maintain his noble status.

But the sad news is that he lacks the actual ability to achieve that, making it almost certain he’ll lose it.

Originally, he was the illegitimate son of the Gaston clan, so instead of receiving a proper noble education, he ended up joining the army and becoming a soldier—so it can’t be helped.

Times change, and those who can’t keep up are left behind.

The harvesting machines are even trying to move using foreign technology.

I wonder how this will all change.

I’ll quietly live on in this world, acting like I’m not even here, watching the future unfold.

I don’t have to keep watch against suspicious individuals right in front of me, like in the First World, nor do I have to stand still in a barren land like in the Second World.

Yeah. It’s actually quite comfortable to live.

The Third World might just be a testing ground to lay out the knowledge gained from the Second World and experiment to what extent I can use it.

All while gathering warmth like never before?

Hehe.

As I pondered this, I found myself at a small, shabby train station.

The very place Victoria got off at earlier today.

It appeared the ticket seller had already left for the day, as the door was closed.

It was a dark station, void of any light.

Even if you call it a station, there’s only a tiny ticket booth that fills up when a few people walk in, a stone platform, and a few wooden chairs—that’s all.

I sat on one of the chairs.

Perhaps because there’s no light around, the sky was full of stars.

However, those stars weren’t the ones I always looked up at. The night sky I knew was no longer in sight.

It’s not just that the constellations are different or anything like that.

The night sky I gazed up at while beneath the surface was one where life had scattered its light.

I blankly stared up at a completely different night sky.

When the sun rises and morning comes, if I take the train back to the capital…

“There you are.”

Suddenly, I heard a voice. Turning my head, I saw a faint figure of a woman flickering through the starlight.

“Oh, Beatrice. Did you come to make a contract?”

Now that I think about it, making a contract would be difficult if I went to the capital, right?

But surprisingly, Beatrice shook her head.

“It’s my mother-in-law’s words that we can’t just send off a guest.”

Then she stepped forward and took my arm.

“Me too.”

She pulled me back toward home.

Utterly and desperately.

This family makes an unfortunate choice.