One Who Understands the Abnormal

I swallowed the Philosopher's Stone.

For something that looked dangerous at a glance, the act itself was surprisingly unremarkable. Think of it as installing an external hard drive into your body. I felt neither revulsion nor guilt.

A Philosopher's Stone is a substance forged by transmuting a person's flesh and soul — but strictly speaking, it is only a vessel that has converted a human's body and spirit entirely into energy and information. That is not cannibalism.

Picture a human body as a diamond, and a Philosopher's Stone as carbon, and the distinction becomes easy. People do not swallow diamonds. They ingest carbon in their food all the time. A matter of perspective, in other words.

He was the kind of bastard far better off dead anyway. If I was going to kill him, I might as well put him to better use.

Power and ability are not sins. Only the person who wields them can be. James Baker was an irredeemable villain — but his Gift, Imitation Reproduction, was far too useful to simply let vanish. So I "preserved" it in the form of a Philosopher's Stone: something I could draw on in the ordinary course of battle to bolster my strength, and something I could peel away at any time and use as raw material.

Still… this is a little unexpected.

I studied the status window that had unfolded at the edge of my vision with genuine interest.

James's stats — which I had been certain I'd absorbed through the Philosopher's Stone — were nowhere to be seen. Instead, two alchemy-related abilities had appeared, along with a single Gift rendered in cracked, unreadable characters.

So a Philosopher's Stone is a power that sits outside the status window?

Well — the soul was different to begin with. A Philosopher's Stone was a jewel-shaped vessel that stored the information of soul and body; absorbing one completely as part of myself would require an additional, finicky process. And for the moment, I had no intention of fully assimilating the stone made from James. I had only parked it in my body for lack of a proper vault and a proper use.

Ideally I'd turn it into material for a Homunculus or the Azoth Sword… but I should still keep the option of absorbing it myself on the table.

Imitation Reproduction was a frankly broken Gift once you set aside three drawbacks. The only reason I wasn't gulping the stone down immediately was that doing so would lock me out of reusing it for anything else — not because absorbing it outright wouldn't more than pay for itself.

Those three drawbacks, though, were genuinely painful. If the gap in rank with the target was too wide, copying became difficult. You could never attempt a copy on the same target twice. And since you chose only one of the target's available talents to reproduce, even a successful copy never brought every ability across. Copy a Gift, for example, and you forfeited the rest of their techniques and experience.

"By the way, Miss Jerie — you don't seem especially bothered by any of this."

"Me? Please. This much is nothing."

Jerie let out a dry little laugh, the kind that mocked anyone making a fuss. After long enough living in the back alleys, she said, this barely rated as child's play.

Her reaction genuinely surprised me. Extracting a confession from James and then turning him into a Philosopher's Stone and swallowing it had looked like a fairly brutal process — and she took it not merely in stride, but as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What's so shocking? You could make a Philosopher's Stone, so you made one. You could eat it and take the power, so you ate it. Perfectly rational."

"We really do think alike. Rationality is what matters. Absolutely."

Chatting as we went, Jerie and I climbed back up to the first floor. I rebuilt the staircase I'd temporarily dismantled to cage James, and as we stepped out of the basement, the view beyond the windows showed the sun had already set completely.

"Anyway… learning that many shocking things has worn me out a little."

"That's fair. I'm fine — go rest first."

It had been a day of revelations: the relationship between the Green Forest Dawn Society and the Hohenheim family, and the shadowy power sitting above both of those not-insignificant forces. I already knew all of it, so it barely registered — but Jerie might need time to sort through the chaos in her head.

She answered my consideration with a small, bright smile, offered a nod of farewell, and slipped into her room. Something about her expression made her gaze feel more alluring than usual — but the hour was late, and a yawn overtook me before I could think too hard about it.

I should start meeting the main cast who enrolled as Academy students, too.

Coming in as an instructor had left me without most of the people I should have met early in the original story. Instead I'd run into a pile of characters you either weren't supposed to meet early — or couldn't. But protagonists and supporting cast exist in every story for a reason. Some carry overwhelming power or a chosen fate; others play a decisive role at a critical moment. Putting faces to names early never hurt.

The midterms and the sports festival are still the best openings, aren't they?

Origin Academy held two major events in the first semester. Calling midterms an "event" was a stretch, but the sports festival was famous enough that tourists from other nations came to watch. Midterms were about two weeks out. The sports festival followed roughly two weeks after that. Either way, time was short.

I'll have the common skills down soon enough, and Jerie's problem ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is basically ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠solved.

The Green Forest Dawn Society had nothing left to work with. Their "princess," Jerie, had been on my side for a long time, and the sister they'd used as a leash was under the headmaster's personal protection. Stripped of every tool, they had only two options: wither slowly, or charge in like madmen. Either way, their plans and their future ended in an instant.

Which meant—

I can finally focus on Charlotte's side of things.

With the Green Forest Dawn Society dismantled, it was the Hohenheim family's turn. The same people who'd been eyeing James's Imitation Reproduction — and a chance to cut the purse strings of the true mastermind pulling the strings behind both the Society and Hohenheim.

Starting tomorrow, I'll be camping out in Research Building 12 for a while.

Charlotte practically lived there as it was. With Jerie at the house I'd still sleep at home — but I might well end up voluntarily working past quitting time. Unpaid overtime. Just thinking about it drained the strength from my limbs and piled fatigue onto my bones.

And how am I supposed to explain James, exactly?

I could hardly say, in so many words, that I'd turned him into a Philosopher's Stone and swallowed him. That night, until sleep took me, I worked on a cover story for James Baker's disappearance.

Back in her room, Jerie washed, filled the tub with warm water, and sank into it as her thoughts drifted. Perhaps because she loved warm places, whenever something needed deep consideration she always took her rest in the bath.

At last.

Basking in the warmth of a bathroom thick with steam, Jerie let a foolish, unguarded smile spread across her face. She tried to press her mouth flat and settle the feeling — but for once, her expression and her heart refused to obey.

Asking herself why was pointless. The answer was obvious. She finally had a clear read on the man named Ryu Seojun — on his nature, the way he thought, the values he lived by. The satisfaction of that knowledge was so complete she kicked at the water, still grinning.

"Haa…"

She breathed out, rinsing away a little of the emotion's aftertaste.

For the first time, she had met someone who thought as she did. Someone who could fully understand and empathize ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with her circumstances and her life. Even the elf elders of the Green Forest Dawn Society had sometimes flinched from her without meaning to. Even the sister she loved beyond measure had, now and then, failed to grasp her reasoning and scolded her for dangerous thoughts.

For so many years she had lived trapped inside a fence that would not let her mix with other people. To blend in, she had had to cut that fence down and paint over it in colors and shapes that looked like everyone else's. A fence meant only to be cut and overpainted — that was the inner landscape of the girl named Jerie Beloborg, and the definition of the life she had built for herself.

"We think alike." That's what he meant by that, isn't it?

But someone had appeared who affirmed that fence of hers. A man who recognized her world entirely, accepted it, and went further still — who shared it.

You do it because you can. You take it because it helps you. Even if it crosses ethics and deserves condemnation, if it is necessary, you do not hesitate. She had been that way since she was small. Perhaps it was simply her nature. Becoming the princess of the Green Forest Dawn Society and facing a harsh world from childhood had only driven that nature deeper.

It feels good. Yes. Truly good.

Ugly. Inhumane. Ethically unthinkable — hands off. Plenty of people learned those words and recited them, and Jerie laughed at every one of them. Would any of it hold, she wondered, in the final moment when a life hung by a thread?

If you do not kill, you die. That was what a fight was. Living things strained every moment as if to die, so they would not die. That was the definition of life Jerie had settled on.

If you're a person, you use a tool for what it's for.

Ethical thinking and humane living were tools for fitting into a peaceful society — and nothing more. When the work was surviving, protecting your body from danger, keeping your life going, those tools were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unnecessary.

Of course Jerie kept a minimum line. She knew the weight of life, and she could feel another person's thoughts and feelings. So in ordinary days she upheld ordinary social values and tried to live an ordinary life, same as anyone. But only that far. Her self was not easily swayed by outside pressure. That self and that way of thinking were what had let her survive as herself until now.

A Philosopher's Stone… I wonder what it tastes like?

Swallowing a Philosopher's Stone made from a person. An ordinary soul would have recoiled and fled; Jerie had watched and felt interest bloom instead. James Baker had been a villain who needed killing either way. Killing him and stopping there would have wasted a valuable Gift. Coaxing or converting him into a tool would have been needlessly complicated, with betrayal always on the table. So? Turn him into a Philosopher's Stone and take the power. Problem solved.

It had been Ryu Seojun's conclusion from start to finish — and Jerie affirmed every bit of his judgment and was satisfied with the choice. After all, all of it had been done to help her.

She carefully gathered up the soft, yielding feeling before it could spill over, stepped out of the bath, and put her clothes in order.

—I don't really want anything. As long as you're happy, that's enough.

Words she had once dismissed as empty flattery rose now and rang through her mind. The feeling was not entirely unpleasant. Holding onto its aftertaste, Jerie lay down on the bed.

If he meant that…

At last, the princess recognized the shape of what she felt toward the alchemist.