2. Saintess Karina (2)

"What?"

...Did I look like an Aberrant or something?

I stared at her blankly, stunned by the shocking remark that had flown from that pretty mouth. Skin so pale it was almost translucent, gaunt yet somehow undimmed beauty, odd eyes that had dimmed but still held their intelligence.

And a voluptuous figure barely covered where it mattered.

Ah.

I hurriedly turned around.

"I'm not an Aberrant."

Getting called an Aberrant by the Saintess, of all people, stung a bit. Did my face really look that inhuman? I walked up to the mirror on the wall and examined my face from various angles—I didn't look inhuman. What on earth had made her call me an Aberrant?

It felt unfair. No matter what, I wasn't ugly enough to be called a monster. Wondering if something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was smeared on my face, I walked to the mirror I'd hung in the corner of the room and checked my reflection. The mirror I'd salvaged from a wrecked ship that had drifted ashore one day reflected my appearance with perfect clarity.

Ah.

My reflection in the handcrafted mirror was, well, even I had to admit it was a bit much. Sure, I'd shaved my beard pretty clean, but there was the scar slashing across my face, the unkempt shaggy hair that covered my eyes because I never maintained it, and my completely bare upper body.

And covering that upper body—scars from being crushed, torn, and melted. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It seemed she'd been startled by the sight of my body, which bore the vivid traces of my harsh life. The body I'd transmigrated into was also decently large, which might have added to the intimidation.

All in all, a menacing-looking man wearing nothing but pants was staring at her, so it was no wonder she'd been frightened. Still, being treated like an Aberrant was a little...

"Ah, um... I'm sorry. I was so startled that I misspoke..."

"It's fine."

I came back and sat down in front of her. The two of us were silent for a while. Was she choosing her words carefully, just as I was?

Come to think of it, we could understand each other. Scratching my head at the belated realization, I sank into thought.

There was no way the Saintess could speak Korean, so had transmigrating here come with a language patch? I couldn't tell whether I should be glad or annoyed to discover that after ten years.

Compared with ten years of getting screwed over, it was nothing more than a trivial consolation.

"Um..."

At her call, I turned my head and met her gaze.

Ah, she looked away.

After a little time passed, the cycle repeated—she looked at me, then averted her eyes.

The awkwardness was so thick I felt like I might suffocate.

Having a conversation with another person after ten years was never going to be easy. Thinking about how to continue the conversation, how to respond, how to speak without offending her, what answer would be appropriate—it felt like my brain was flat-out abandoning its duties.

I felt like I should lighten the mood, but what should I say? What if I said something weird? We could understand each other, but what if I said the wrong thing and messed everything up from the very start?

Maybe it was because I was just opening and closing my mouth without saying anything—the frail Saintess worked up her courage and spoke to me first.

"You're... the one who saved me... right...? Thank you."

"Just did my job. That's all."

If there was a living person, you picked them up first and thought later. I'd lived without humans, but my love for humanity hadn't died.

Karina smiled warmly at my answer, then coughed. Probably because she'd moved too much, even though she was in front of the brazier. I quietly lifted her up, laid her down on the bed, and covered her with a blanket.

"...Thank you, kind stranger."

"Yohan Quartz."

It was the name written on my Status Window. There was no need to give my original name. I'd lived in this body for ten years, so I had no hesitation giving the name of the body I'd transmigrated into. Karina repeated my name once, then asked me from where she lay on the bed.

"The meal..."

Ah, I should feed her first. As the saying went, food came before everything else—better to feed her first and then ask whatever needed asking. I stirred the contents of the pot with a ladle, and once the soup reached a decent, edible state, I scooped it into a bowl.

The greenish, savory soup filled half the bowl. It wasn't a very large bowl, but even this much would be hard for a patient to digest. I scooped up some soup with a spoon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd carved from wood myself, blew on it gently, and poured the soup past Karina's slightly parted lips.

Karina eagerly took in the soup like a baby bird. Once the bowl was completely empty, Karina looked up at me with a wistful face and asked.

"...Could I have a little more?"

"Eating too much at once will upset your stomach."

Having starved for a long time, her stomach probably wasn't functioning properly yet. Now was the time to restore her stomach's function by eating little by little. Karina was gazing longingly at the pot, but no meant no.

I cleared away the bowl and placed the pot from the brazier onto the table I'd built myself. When I looked at Karina, she was now staring fixedly at the pot on the table. Should I have given her a little more? My heart was softening for no good reason.

"Wait for the next meal."

"R-Right... Ah, by any chance, are there other people besides me..."

Instead of answering, I shook my head. At my response, Karina murmured with a gloomy expression, "I thought so..." I didn't know exactly what had happened, but given that it was a shipwreck, finding survivors other than her would be difficult.

The dozens of people I'd buried in this ground alone proved that. People who had been caught in the mysterious vortex surrounding this island and died. Karina had miraculously survived, probably because she'd received a god's blessing.

Put the other way around, it meant you needed that level of luck to survive a sinking and get washed ashore on the beach.

Then how had this body's original owner survived... Ah. He died, which was why I transmigrated into him, so he didn't survive. As was common in typical transmigration stories, the original owner's soul never spoke to me either. He must have passed on peacefully, right?

"Reni..."

Reni, Reni... It was a name I felt like I'd heard somewhere. Racking my brain over the name the Saintess had murmured with a sorrowful face, I recalled that it had been a character's name from the game.

Reni, Karina's Escort Knight.

She was so outrageously strong that players complained she was complete bullshit. She was the knight treated as the true final boss on the Traitor Route, where you betrayed humanity and sided with the Aberrants. The sheer absurdity of her moving at high speed in heavy armor was something else.

I doubted a boss like that would have drowned.

One of the hardest bosses in Survival Academy, drowning? ...Someone like Reni could probably run across the ocean surface like something out of a martial arts novel and reach the island. Even decked out in every kind of overpowered gear, I'd barely beaten her insane attack patterns after seventy-two tries. Her dying from something like drowning was too ridiculous.

"Yohan."

"What is it?"

"Where is this?"

The most natural question for a castaway to ask. Come to think of it, it had taken me a full month after opening my eyes to conclude that this island was uninhabited. I'd cranked my hope circuits to the max back then and then suffered a complete mental breakdown afterward—the memory was so vivid I still had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nightmares about it.

I wondered what it felt like to hear the uninhabited island declaration from someone else's mouth. I opened my mouth to answer Karina's question.

"An uninhabited island."

"Uninhabited?"

"There's nobody here. That's what uninhabited means."

"But you're here, aren't you, Yohan? So wouldn't that make it not uninhabited...? I'm here too..."

Did it really matter? Faced with this sudden conundrum she'd casually lobbed at me, I didn't answer. Trapped in a bizarre conversation that felt like it might destroy my brain cells, I held a wooden cup under the handmade water purifier and filled it to the brim.

Having filled one cup, I noticed a strange gaze prickling at my back and bent down again. Whenever I was bored, I'd whittle wood and make simple tools, so cups I had in abundance. I filled two cups with water, then plopped down in front of Karina.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

I carefully trickled water into Karina's mouth bit by bit. Karina drank the water I poured for her like a baby bird. I stared blankly at the sight. So when a person was excessively beautiful, even just drinking water could feel like watching a photoshoot.

I realized that this was what people meant when they said just looking at someone was healing.

After drinking the water, Karina's expression had become noticeably more at ease, as if her thirst had been quenched. I watched Karina, whose eyes were half-closed with fatigue, and then realized I needed to wash her clothes. Her clothes still looked intact, so if I washed them properly, she'd be able to wear them again.

I couldn't leave her in nothing but underwear forever, so it was a rational decision. Mm. This was absolutely not a flimsy excuse to escape this awkward situation.

"Where are you going?"

"Laundry."

"Ah... laundry. Mm. That is important, I suppose..."

Her voice sounded oddly wistful. Did she not want to be left alone? She'd been stuck alone inside a barrel for a long time, so it wasn't strange that she'd crave human contact. I'd done all kinds of ridiculous things myself trying to fight off loneliness during my ten years living alone.

When I made my fifth imaginary friend, I quit out of sheer self-loathing.

Once you had five imaginary friends, it started to feel like you were being ostracized. Just talking and talking to yourself while five people gave you no response? It was like being in a group chat where nobody replied to anything you said.

"Yohan?"

"What is it?"

"Did I tell you who I am, by any chance?"

Ah. Now that I thought about it, she was right. I knew plenty about Karina the game character, but I hadn't actually exchanged introductions with Karina the person. She probably wouldn't get suspicious over something like that in this awkward situation, but still, I should hear her out.

"...No."

"I'm Karina. I'm a priest of the Church of Kalon."

...Well, priest was correct. A Saintess was still a priest, technically. Was she deliberately saying it that way in case calling herself the Saintess would make me uncomfortable? Knowing the Karina I remembered from the game, her intention was probably to minimize any sense of burden.

Then I ought to reintroduce myself too.

I tacked on a few more words than before and gave her my name again.

"Let me reintroduce myself. I'm Yohan Quartz. I've been living on this uninhabited island for ten years."