The Shape of Atonement

Mutation #3. "Ed...!" Mitchell grabbed the child's shoulders with all her might. Her face was trembling, and she repeatedly rubbed her tear-soaked cheeks against him. "I'm sorry... I, I—"

...The child gave no answer. A faint smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

"Uh, wait— Mitchell?"

"Mitchell, calm down!" Wagner shouted from behind, but Mitchell was beyond reason.

'What a filthy bastard.' I stared quietly at the child. The mutant's struggle pattern: The Shape of Atonement. Physically, this form has almost no combat power to speak of. However, the reason this form is notorious is entirely different. The Shape of Atonement changes its appearance into a "target that cannot be attacked." It is a strategy that recreates the deepest trauma within the victim's memory. Its ultimate goal is mental corruption.

That child must have been the most precious existence to Mitchell. A guilt buried deep within her heart. A wound that, no matter how much time passes, can never be healed—a scar she is forced to carry for the rest of her life. Crueler than breaking bones or tearing flesh is the act of exploiting someone else's heart.

'You piece of shit.' Even in the game, I always hated this attack pattern. Therefore, there was no reason to show mercy.

"Ed, never again will I—"

Crack.

The next moment, the head of the child Mitchell was holding flew off. Mitchell's pupils turned white for an instant, and black, shadowy smoke drifted from the child's hollow neck into the air.

"Mitchell, pull yourself together. That isn't the person you cherish." I spoke quietly, aiming at the child with my hand shaped like a pistol.

"...You brat." Mitchell turned to look at me slowly. Her expression was so chilling that my heart sank.

"You. Just. What—"

Because her rage had reached its peak, it didn't ignite into heat; instead, it turned ice-cold. A clear, murderous intent was directed at me.

"Wagner."

"Mm."

Without needing a long explanation, Wagner understood his role. Whoosh— Mitchell, having lost her reason, lunged at me. The distance between us vanished in a single leap. If Wagner hadn't grabbed her from behind, I might have been split in half by now.

"Let go. ...Let go!"

"Telling you to calm down won't work right now. I'll just hold you like this for a while."

"I said let go, you son of a bitch...!"

Wagner struggled with all his might to restrain Mitchell, who was thrashing about like a leopard. He gestured toward me with his chin.

"I don't know exactly what's going on, but— can I leave that kid over there to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you?"

"Yeah. I'll handle it."

I walked toward the child. 'Should I have told everyone in advance? I don't know.' The strategy I had shared with my party members didn't include information about the Shape of Atonement. It wasn't that I didn't tell them to mess with them. For one, knowing about this specific attack method that triggers guilt doesn't make it any easier to resist. And if anything, knowing what's coming might just make it scarier.

If I had told Mitchell that she would face that child in the final moments, there was a high probability she wouldn't have been able to fight properly throughout the boss battle. So, I decided it was better not to know.

'I'll just finish it with my own hands.'

Holding a frost sword in one hand, I approached the ugly monster slowly. It looked back at me with a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blank face.

—... ...

Still, no words. Rustle— Shadow tentacles stretched out from beneath its feet once more. Is it targeting me this time? I wouldn't waste my time trying to dodge it pointlessly.

'That's all you can do anyway.'

The shadows climbed up my body, and then— my vision went black. My eyes, ears, and every other sense ceased to function. Like a broken TV, only distorted noise filled my head. Between the gray cracks, like shards of broken glass, dozens of distorted shadows nodded their heads.

—...Understood.

The voice, stretched out like a warped tape, repeated endlessly like an echo. When I came to my senses, the shadows had already left my body. The young elf's eyes began to narrow and stretch. They elongated sideways, stretching and stretching again. A lewd expression, as if laughing or crying, continued to change like a monster's.

It wasn't just the face that was transforming. The small frame grew larger, and the entire body was being reconstructed, covered in shadows.

'Alright, come on.'

I didn't turn my eyes away. I swallowed hard and waited for my own guilt to appear. Facing 'him' again would surely be painful for me, too. But there was no way to avoid it. I would simply accept it. And overcome it.

'It's just mimicking the outer shell anyway. It's not the real thing. I know this is just the final struggle of that disgusting demon.'

I kept repeating it to myself like self-hypnosis. Soon, the shadow finished its reconstruction... and a woman appeared.

—...

A woman with long black hair reaching her waist. Her slender body, wrapped in a white shawl dress like the women of ancient Greece, was pitiful and beautiful, as if it might break at any moment. Large, sad-looking eyes with long double eyelids stared at me. This can't be. This person is...

"Who are you?"

I frowned. The black-haired beauty tilted her head slightly. She was so beautiful she felt holy, but I didn't know this woman.

"I asked who you are. Are you not doing your job properly?"

One guess came to mind. This woman wasn't my guilt. She must be the guilt of the original owner of this body, Estelle Frostwind. For some reason, the mutant seemed to have read the memories residing in the body, not mine. Idiot.

"So what?"

Slap!

I slapped her without hesitation. The beauty staggered with a bright red, swollen face. Her blank expression crumbled for the first time, and embarrassment filled her face. Oh. Zero guilt. She's a stranger. I could hit her all day.

Slap! Slap!

This time, I slapped both cheeks left and right.

—St-stop...!

It seemed it hurt to be hit, as the woman stumbled backward. "What do you mean, stop? If you made a mistake, you should be punished."

I kicked her ankle with the tip of my boot, and the black-haired beauty collapsed on the spot. I aimed the frost sword at her forehead.

Thrust—

The shadow, its form collapsed, writhed in pain before vanishing as if burning away. With its death, the familiar rewards I had so desired were scattered about, but I turned away without picking them up. There was something more important to do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than looting.

"Mitchell, Estelle took care of the enemy. You don't have to suffer anymore. Can you hear me?"

"Mitchell..."

Wagner and Flora whispered repeatedly with faces full of worry. Mitchell was still trapped in shock. I couldn't blame her. No matter how much one trains the body, it's hard to endure an attack like mental corruption, which one experiences for the first time.

It was the same in the game. If you get caught in the mutant's seizure pattern, it's not rare for even a well-raised party member to say goodbye here. The fate of a party member who becomes a shell of themselves is harsh. Usually, they are expelled from the party by the player. It's cold, but it can't be helped. You can't play the whole game while carrying a penalty by keeping an adventurer who can't pull their own weight. I had done the same.

In that case, the party member would wander the world with vacant eyes and meet a lonely end in a foreign land, or at best, spend the rest of their life recuperating in a monastery. If there was one way to hold out hope...

"Mitchell, it's okay. Everything is over safely." Flora held Mitchell's trembling face in her arms and stroked it.

A command that is almost never used in normal play while playing Nine Stars: [Comfort Party Member]. It usually ends with a few lines of insincere dialogue, so it has no real merit unless you're a player who enjoys character relationships. But this time was different.

"Mitchell, cheer up." Wagner also patted Mitchell's back. Seeing that, I felt something hot welling up inside my heart.

...It really was such a trivial command. It was just a command I threw out, thinking if it worked, great, if not, oh well. Still, it's different from the game where you watch from a bystander's perspective, one step removed. I couldn't treat Mitchell's pain like someone else's business.

"Mitchell."

I pressed my forehead against hers. Mitchell's clouded eyes, her vacant breathing. Everything about it made my heart ache. She's a party member I chose myself. Do you think I'd let you drop out in a place like this?

"You're not weak enough to be toyed with by trash like that."

"..."

"I'll stay by your side until you recover."

[Party Leader Estelle comforted Mitchell.] ...Will this command actually take effect? I opened my arms and hugged Flora and Mitchell. And Wagner's large arms wrapped around us warmly. It was a bit stifling, but it was warm. And— a sparkling light began to glow again in Mitchell's tear-filled eyes.

We rested comfortably for a while. The Polluted Waste Deposit was cleared, and all that was left was to return to Garden. Mitchell, who I had been worried about, seemed to have regained some of her energy.

"Haa..." Mitchell sighed with a dazed face. She had been leaning on Wagner's broad shoulder, hanging limp for a moment, but then—

"Uh, th-thanks, but... I think you can let go now?"

"Mm."

Mitchell pulled her body away from Wagner, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. An awkward air flowed between Wagner and Mitchell... but seeing that Mitchell seemed much better, I felt relieved. Mitchell walked up in front of the party members and bowed at a 90-degree angle.

"Sorry, everyone!" Because of what happened earlier, her red hair looked a bit frizzy from the stress. "I don't know what came over me. I looked pathetic, didn't I? I'm really sorry."

"No, what are you saying, Mitchell—" Flora waved her hands and ran out to hug Mitchell.

"We're comrades, aren't we? Mitchell, you can rely on us anytime. We're a team."

"...Yeah, thanks." Mitchell said with a bashful face, rubbing the tip of her nose. The gaze she directed at the party members was filled with a warmth that hadn't been there before.

"Don't blame yourself too much. Hearing it from Estelle, it seems like an attack anyone would have struggled with. If it had been me, it wouldn't have been much different."

"Yeah, you big bear. Well said. It's not like I was the only one struggling. You were the same."

"Ouch—! But why, why are you hitting me? I said that to comfort you—"

"Fuck if I know. I just wanted to hit you."

Mitchell hit Wagner's back with exaggerated gestures. I know how she feels. It's awkward, she's sorry, and she's probably embarrassed, too. ...Anyway, I'm glad it was Wagner she hit and not me.

I clapped my hands to change the mood and gather their attention. "More importantly, there's loot from the mutant. There are exactly four, one for each of us."

Four small stone fragments, similar to the cores of the Slime series. Everyone brightened at the sight of the emerald-like, brilliantly shining stones.

"We can just divide them one by one."

"Mm."

"Are these jewels? They're pretty—"

I know all too well what these rewards are. But I couldn't just say it outright. I swallowed quietly, trying not to show it. My heart was pounding at 150bpm, perhaps because I was so nervous.

"How should we divide them?"

I tried to speak as if it were nothing, but my voice sounded awkward even to me. I need to guide the flow. The perfect flow to naturally achieve my goal. Now, how should I bring it up? I'm the party leader, so I'll pick first—? Would our party laugh and allow such selfishness from me? Have we built up that much trust? Or, how about I just pick one up and say, "I'll take this," as if it were nothing? Would that just invite suspicion? The grass is always greener on the other side. What if they think the one I picked first looks better and start competing for it?

'Damn, I made it even more awkward by worrying about it. Now...'

While I was caught in internal conflict, Mitchell suddenly stroked my hair. "Brat! You're tiny, so take this."

"...Huh?"

"This stone is the only one that's half-sized. Doesn't it look like you?"

Mitchell said with a playful laugh. Under normal circumstances, my natural reaction would be to get angry and snap back. But this time, I couldn't be more grateful to Mitchell.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why— it suits you. Look, it's perfect."

With a flick, Mitchell pressed the small stone into my hand and forced my fist closed. Mitchell. You're the best. I'm sincerely grateful. Of course, I won't be able to say "thank you" here, or ever— but thanks to Mitchell stepping up, the distribution was finished.

The largest stone, Wagner's share, was the Conversion Stone of Fortitude. Flora got the Conversion Stone of Mana, and Mitchell got the Conversion Stone of Swiftness. They are items that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠permanently increase stats fitting their names. Even if the increase isn't massive, they will surely be a reliable source of strength in our future adventures. But it's amazing how they all took the exact stones they needed.

'The best possible result.'

I feel sorry for not being honest with my party members. But this is something I can't yield. This unimpressive, tiny pebble in my hand is the key to my early growth route in Garden. The dream item that exists only once in the world of Nine Stars: the Conversion Stone of the Sage. I will verify its effect right now.

I gripped the stone and focused my will. 'Change your form into what I need most right now.'