Confession
No, that's not it. No way. Even if I live impulsively chasing every damn urge, I'm not so oblivious.
Even as I busied myself with other tasks, the nagging issue hadn't resolved itself, so unwanted thoughts kept bubbling up, urging me to break free from this situation fast. That made it inevitable to tilt my head at even the most absurd scenarios...
Ever since I gained this power, do I just think less? My actions feel so goddamn straightforward now.
Looking back, those frantic days in the Demonic Cult, scrambling to survive somehow, felt more fulfilling in a twisted way—leaving a bitter taste. The incident with the merchant lord earlier was much the same. If it were my old psycho self, I would've smashed him to pieces instead of letting him live.
"Hey, girls."
"Yeah?"
"Yes?"
"Say I do something really evil. How do you think you'd take it?"
Forget rekindling my original resolve for a second—this question was crucial for our future peace. If I dragged Tier's party into reality, faction wars or whatever, my personality meant I'd only care about those around me. No wasting energy on random trash, which would spawn all sorts of fallout. I had to gauge their reactions carefully. Tier pondered my words briefly before asking in a baffled tone.
"What exactly counts as 'evil', boss?"
"Uh... killing rude assholes, killing annoying pricks, killing anyone who touches my stuff...? Plenty more, probably."
"Sounds bad on paper, but... I wouldn't feel much about it. That merchant lord just now? He'd qualify as one you should've killed."
"R-right?"
"Yeah. Even if you killed him right there, I doubt it'd change a thing for me."
She nodded, shooting me a gaze of utter devotion.
Fuck me. Asking Tier was my mistake.
Thinking about it, wolf beastkin had that racial instinct—whatever tradition or custom—where they'd turn the whole continent against them before betraying their mate. Judging by Tier's vibe, their culture seemed to involve accepting every part of their partner. They'd even reshape their own values based on who their mate was. I let out a relieved sigh, then eyed Daphne with a hint of worry.
Fantasy elves were either goody-two-shoes pure types or uptight pricks, right? If Tier was fine but Daphne stewed in silent agony, it'd be a problem for me. I gave her a look like what's your take? She mulled over my words, tilting her head, then spoke slowly.
"Does 'killing' mean a quick, painless death?"
"Huh? Didn't think about it, but... yeah, better than dragging it out with torture. Clean kill when it's time... right? Why?"
"Well, nature teaches that where there's life, there's death..."
"That elder who taught you?"
"Yes... Even if it's not 'natural,' not every creature dies the same way. So if it's painless, dying by your hand or naturally... isn't much different, is it, Berg?"
She'd started philosophizing solo about life and death after my question on evil deeds.
Damn... that elder half-assed her education. Her worldview's creepy as hell.
As she muttered to herself, lost in her own logic, I figured even mass slaughter wouldn't faze her. Turning away, I spotted Plang grinning ear-to-ear at me.
"I wanna kill too!"
"Sigh..."
Guess I had a knack for picking women. Brains or not, they only had eyes for me, ignoring everything else. Made my loins stir just thinking about my crew by my side.
With the carriage situation and prepping for the Empire, might as well heal up with some playtime till then.
I shook my head at Plang's whiny tantrum over my sigh, and our group trudged back to the estate—mission to buy a carriage a total bust.
Step. Step.
Sitting on a pile of stones in the estate's rear garden, I'd been admiring the moonlit lake and scenery for a bit. Footsteps announced her presence, along with a familiar aura. A smile crept up as I turned.
"Why'd you call me here, boss?"
There stood Tier, her silver hair shimmering like moonlight, flashing a smile back. Her snowy wolf ears twitched, her tail swishing into view now and then, entrancing anyone who saw. Her lightly clad body highlighted her stunning physique—prime viewing material. She evoked those ancient Greek myths: the goddess of moon and hunt.
"Nothing big. Just something to say."
"Something to say?"
"Yeah. Sit here first?"
Unlike our usual flirty banter or sex romps, this was serious, so my mood had sobered. Worry and confusion flickered across Tier's face, replacing her grin.
"Here."
"Thanks."
Whatever the reason, she bounded over, plopping her ass on the flat rock. I pulled a glass from my Inventory, poured cheap red wine, and handed it over. She took it with a cheeky grin, sipping right away.
Couldn't feed my girls crap. I'd brought top-shelf booze from reality or wherever—good for body and taste. Plang and Daphne aside, Tier always raved most about this cheap red. Familiar routine.
Something about cheap wine's harshness? No bouquet, just pure bite she loves.
Like folks who chase the strongest booze. She'd nixed my distilled spirits as too harsh and boozy, but this had wine aroma with that kick—her fave. My lip quirked up.
Thus began our brief respite. As Tier chowed on dried snacks (for her bottomless appetite) and we guzzled the red, the mood ripened amid fading insect chirps. Finally, I spoke.
"Tier."
"Yeah?"
"Truth is, I'm not from this world."
She stared blankly, uncomprehending—no interrogation, just pure confusion.
"Uh... back then, I mentioned the East or whatever, but actually, it's way farther than across the sea?"
"Farther than overseas?"
"Yeah. Take the Tower... my home and here are on completely different floors?"
"Whoa..."
Dimensions or whatever were lost on medieval folk like her, so I kept it simple. Her gaping awe suggested she got it.
"Anyway, you know I have all these powers. Truth is, I can return home anytime."
"Ah...!"
"You've noticed, I bet. Those times my scent seemed off? Probably when I went home or came back."
As I explained, her eyes widened—puzzle pieces clicking. Her nose, always 100% accurate, must've tormented her with my contradictory scents from world-hopping. A knowing smile spread, mingled with dawning questions.