Chapter 63

Hundreds of insects had gathered at his feet alone.

He shook and rubbed his feet, feeling like they’d crawl up his body. Large and small insects were crushed and fell away.

“163.”

“What?”

“The number of insects you just killed.”

“Why does that matter?”

His eyes stung. At the same time, the insects that had been visible before him vanished. Quilbion looked down at his body. He tried to find the insects that had been creeping up, but they weren’t visible.

“Why did you kill them?”

“Do you need some grand reason to get rid of insects?”

“That’s what I want to say to you.”

It was a metaphor even an idiot could understand. Quilbion’s eyes twitched.

“People aren’t insects.”

“Do you really think so?”

Winte stared at him intently.

And Quilbion couldn’t say “Yes.” If he looked at humans from Winte’s perspective, they’d really be just like insects.

“If people all look like insects to you, then I must look the same?”

“To some extent.”

“You’re not going to kill me out of boredom, right?”

“Have you ever sought out and killed insects one by one out of boredom?”

“No. But I’ve swatted buzzing flies countless times.”

Quilbion glanced down at his feet unnecessarily.

“At one point, I dissected you people countless times because I was curious about the Designer’s intentions. What exactly was the answer placed inside them? As a result, I learned something, but I didn’t fully realize it.”

“The answer?”

He sent an inquiring look, but Winte changed the subject.

“After deciding there was nothing more to gain from material, I began observing you. Not just the Human Tribe. I examined all species that contained the Designer’s intentions.”

“All species?”

“Everything with reason. At first, I watched from a distance. But I couldn’t completely exclude my own subjectivity, so I changed my approach.”

Winte raised his finger and pointed at his own face. The face that had taken Al Terua’s form.

Quilbion understood what Winte was trying to say.

“So you sent off your memories and became a completely different person to come among us?”

“Right. To completely remove my subjectivity, I needed to eliminate my original self. But that process was complex even for me. I had to step one foot into the Designer’s domain.”

“Al Terua’s memories being a mess was……”

“Proof that my technique is crude. Creating a completely separate new life and throwing it into society, then bringing it back when that life ends to acquire the accumulated experiences. That was the main framework of my technique, but it ended incomplete.”

Even if he said he didn’t complete it, hadn’t he created a whole person anyway?

It was a skin-crawling thing.

The dragon before him really was a being close to a god.

“Wait.”

Quilbion carefully reached out his hand. He touched Winte’s shoulder and swept his hand across his waist and legs.

“Don’t tell me this body too……”

“It’s not my main body.”

“Then where’s your original body? Ah! Was that burrow thing you mentioned before about this?”

Winte looked north. He seemed to be watching the slowly passing sun, but his gaze was directed somewhere farther.

“My body is sleeping in a deep place.”

“You’re awake though. You’re talking to me right now.”

“Only a portion of my consciousness is extracted and active.”

“……Can consciousness be divided so arbitrarily like that?”

“Why do you think I can’t do what you’ve done?”

Quilbion blinked. What did I do?

“The illusions you saw. Where do you think they came from?”

“Where else. This head that’s broken beyond repair made them up on its own.”

“Though twisted, the illusions your brain created would have had consistency. Right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You could also exchange conversation with them, and you could touch them too.”

Quilbion nodded. Even knowing they were illusions, when he poked them, he felt texture.

At the time, he’d thought even the tactile sensations were delusions created by his deranged mind.

“You’re saying those illusions had substance? No way, right?”

“They’re at a crude stage, so they’re not at the level of being perceived by others, but you’ll eventually create complete mental entities.”

His head throbbed. He touched Winte’s body here and there again.

“So I can make things like this too?”

“With very high probability.”

“I’ve never learned anything like this.”

“Knowledge exists in various forms. You tend to call systematized documents and verbalizations knowledge, but there’s actually far more knowledge that takes other forms.”

“Haha, what are you even saying.”

He plopped down. A chair that had appeared at some point supported his bottom. At this point, it wasn’t even surprising anymore.

“What exactly have I become?”

“An unknown something. Something between goblin and human.”

Winte stared at him intently. Quilbion raised both clenched fists.

“Are you going to dissect me?”

“I won’t. Because promises must be kept.”

Quilbion shook his head, then looked at a distant tree.

“That strange village I saw, and the people, and the running pigs, and wolves, and the laughing sheep! Were they all mental…… what did you call them?”

“Mental entities.”

“Right, mental entities. Interesting.”

Winte, who’d been listening to the story, set his cup down on the saucer.

“But a strange village?”

“Yeah. The place where the illusions I created lived. But the village scenery changed every time. Sometimes it was a mountain village with just a few households, and other times it was a city packed with grand buildings.”

Quilbion let out an empty laugh.

“Do you know how many humans I met inside there? I really can’t even count. But you’re saying all of that was mental entities I created with substance? Was my imagination that good?”

Inside there, Quilbion had sometimes been a snotty brat, and sometimes an old man too feeble to even move.

“But if all those illusions become real, do the buildings I saw appear here too? If that’s possible, I could just create food endlessly……”

“That’s strange.”

Winte said.

“What is?”

“If your brain couldn’t function properly and you couldn’t distinguish reality from illusion……”

“What?”

Winte’s hand moved toward Quilbion’s head. He reflexively pulled his head back.

“What are you doing?”

“Let me touch it for a moment. I need to check.”

“Check what?”

“Just a moment will do.”

Winte’s finger touched his forehead.

Tap—it was a finger that touched and pulled back.

Quilbion rolled his eyes left and right. There was nothing particularly different. It wasn’t like before when he saw insects.

That’s when it happened.

“It’s been a while.”

A voice came from behind. That disgusting laughter-inducing voice. Quilbion glared at Winte.

“This really sucks, seriously.”

“You were going to see them soon anyway. Because your head was in that state.”

“I did think about it a few times. That it was boring since the noisy ones disappeared. But now my mind is completely settled and I was really doing fine.”

Haah—he let out a long sigh and turned around.

Twella was grinning with her upper teeth showing.

“What should I do now?”

He asked Winte.

“As your heart desires.”

“You revived a ghost, so you should at least give me an explanation.”

While he replied with an irritated tone, Twella approached. The back of her hand touched Quilbion’s cheek.

Was it because he’d heard Winte’s words? He could feel the texture even more clearly than before.

Goosebumps rose at the ghastliness. He swung his hand and split the illusion in half.

The sensation of hitting something traveled up his hand.

“But why does she mainly pop up?”

“Because she’s the human embedded in your mind.”

“Does being embedded mean I can pull her out? I really want to pull her out. Every time I see her, I feel sick.”

While he was talking, Twella, who’d lost her form, appeared behind him this time.

She pressed her body close and whispered in his ear.

“So you ended up listening to that monster.”

“Who’s calling whom a monster?”

“That monster behind you is going to kill you soon. You heard it, right? How he talks about experimental subjects. So be careful. I’ll be really sad and won’t be able to sleep if you die.”

“That’s absurd.”

It was when he grabbed Twella by the collar and slammed her to the ground.

The rooftop floor was gone.

It was a place where oil-soaked floorboards creaked. Quilbion raised his head and looked around.

Then his muffled ears caught sounds.

“That’s not how you throw darts!”

“Hey! There’s an empty seat here, hurry over.”

“Oh my, I really can’t do it. If you really need it, I’ll introduce someone I know.”

It was a tavern. A well-dressed man and woman sat at the bar table gazing at each other.

Dartboards lined the right wall, where everyone was heated up as if there was a competition.

At the round table right beside him, a woman in a bright red dress was fiddling with her drink looking troubled, and all sorts of males had gathered around her.

Quilbion looked up at the ceiling with hazy eyes.

What was I doing?

“Quil.”

Someone grabbed his shoulder.

Quilbion turned around. A mountain goat wearing a fedora let out a long burp.

“Kuhaha, hey buddy! Why are you standing there spacing out?”

“Huh?”

“You’re completely wasted. You said you’d try flirting while drunk, but you lost your mind before even flirting.”

Quilbion frowned while looking at the goat.

Who was this again?

“Hey, your name is……”

“Hey! You even forgot my name? Max, Max! Are you messing with me, or are you really drunk out of your mind?”

Ah, Max. He remembered. A drunk from the craft guild he’d met. A hopeless playboy.

They’d hit it off and declared they’d party properly today, then came to this tavern.

“Right! Max. Sorry, I got too drunk.”

“I knew it. I’ve never seen anyone who really held their liquor well claim to be a heavy drinker. Come on, over here. That woman’s already beyond your reach.”

That woman.

What Max pointed at was the woman in the red dress. Quilbion rubbed his eyes and looked at the woman again.

It was a pig with black fur.

“……I was trying to talk to that woman?”

“Yeah! Your courage was commendable. Even drunk, trying to talk to such a lofty person. I couldn’t dream of it.”

“Lofty person?”

He looked back again. He rubbed his eyes once more, and he could see fur protruding between the puffy dress.

Something’s strange.

“Quil, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

He went to the bar table with Max.

He sat in the chair and downed his drink. Someone sang along to string instruments. Quilbion nodded his head to the beat.

He spent time letting himself drift in the drunkenness.

Could there be a better pastime than this?

It was when he was giggling pleasantly while drunk. Someone sat in the seat beside him.

It was a woman with a familiar profile.

Quilbion leaned on his drunkenness and struck up conversation.

“It’s pretty hot in here.”

The woman turned her head. A small pendant hanging from her neck caught his eye. It goes well with that white neck.

“Really? I’m cold.”

“Then you should drink.”

“Do you have a recommendation?”

“A recommendation.”

It was when he raised his hand to call the bartender.

Quilbion felt intense déjà vu and examined the woman’s face again.

“Have we met somewhere?”

“You get told that line’s stale a lot, don’t you?”

“No, it’s not that, I really think I’ve seen you somewhere. Somewhere……”

There was a name tickling inside his mouth.

Quilbion looked at the woman’s pale green eyes and spoke.

“Twella?”

“Huh? You really know me?”

Strength surged into the hand gripping his glass.

Ah, for real.

He snapped to his senses. Maybe because he’d experienced it after so long—he’d spent quite a while in a dazed state.

“You don’t know me……”

Quilbion gagged and clamped his mouth shut. An unidentifiable hand grabbed his neck and yanked him violently backward.

What the?

It was the moment he flailed and toppled backward with the chair.

Quilbion’s eyes snapped wide open. He could see the sky. When he rolled his eyes, there was Winte looking down with his brow deeply furrowed.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Winte said in a low voice.

“Where were you just now?”