PMEVBO 141

“About what you said…Are you implying that even if I were a demon, you’d still spare me?”

The Pope, who had been staring at the ceiling, lowered his eyes to look at me. He sat there without moving a muscle, just like a statue.

“Yes.”

His tone was devoid of any warmth. Only then did I realize I’d been holding my breath the whole time. I brushed my hair back irritably and retorted.

“…You really have a terrible way of speaking, you know that?”

“If you say so, then I suppose I do.”

That was all. No denial, no excuses, no remorse. I was speechless, wondering if there really was a person like this in the world. But at the same time, I felt it was the most Pope-like answer I could have expected.

“What? That’s it?”

In the end, I couldn’t hold it in any longer and laughed. I tried covering my mouth with both hands, but it was no use. I leaned my head against the sofa backrest, and pulled my feet up onto the sofa. I laughed for a long while.

I managed to turn my head just enough to look at the Pope.

“You’ve lived a thousand years, and that’s the best you can do?”

“……”

“Would it kill you to speak to me nicely?”

“……”

“How am I supposed to understand you when you talk like that? It’s so annoying…”

Words spilled out without passing through my brain. It was an act closer to defecation than speech. The Pope, who had been observing my sordid depths, silently pushed a napkin toward me. Only then did I realize my cheeks were damp.

I must have laughed too much.

I picked up the napkin and placed it over my eyes. Even though my laughter had already stopped, the napkin kept getting wetter. It took a long time for the tears to dry. My head felt numb, as if my brain had dried up along with everything else.

I was sitting with my arms draped over my knees when the Pope took a sip of tea and said bluntly,

“If you’re done crying, drink some water.”

“Who said I was crying? It was just from laughing.”

“Even so, you should drink some water.”

“It’s not ‘even so’… Never mind.”

I shouldn’t have said anything. I’d better just drink some water.

I poured cold water into the empty teacup and gulped it down. I set the empty cup on the saucer and wiped my wet lips with my sleeve.

“…The Hayut Massacre. I didn’t do that.”

At that moment, the Pope’s hand, which had been stirring sugar into his tea, paused.

“Really?”

“Yes. …Do you believe me?”

The Pope finished stirring the sugar and replied.

“Yes, I believe you.”

His answer was so easy it left me feeling deflated. I’d expected him to at least question why I’d suddenly changed the subject.

The Pope said,

“But regardless of that, there’s something else I need to hear.”

“……What?”

“What happened to you that day.”

I had planned to explain it anyway. But I couldn’t help feeling nervous. I took my legs off the sofa and sat up straight.

“……I saw a demon there that day.”

“What evidence do you have to be so sure it was a demon?”

“Evidence……?”

The data <The Happy Ending>. In that data, I had committed suicide and been reborn as a demon. That was why recognizing a demon wasn’t particularly difficult for me.

…But was it explicitly stated in the data that I was the demon’s host?

It had already been over six years since I’d read the data. I remembered the general content, but recalling every single sentence and phrase in such detail at this point was impossible. However, that data was presented as a novel from Isabelle’s perspective, and any information Isabelle didn’t know was thoroughly excluded.

That was probably why information about divine power wasn’t covered either.

As I witnessed firsthand during the Hayut Massacre, demons do not take human form. The same was true of the demon that suddenly appeared at the end of the data. Since Isabelle didn’t know that I was its true form, that information likely wasn’t included in the data either.

But I knew that it was me.

Ever since I read the data, I’d been certain of it. And that hadn’t changed even now. It was as if I’d experienced it firsthand…

Once I recalled that the data was written from Isabelle’s perspective, another point stood out.

It was Isabelle, not the data, who labeled me a demon at the end.

Well, to anyone who saw it, it was a hideous, demon-like form. A mass made up of countless snakes… no, wait, snakes? Were they really snakes?

…I think they were fish.

A black mass formed by thousands of fish tangled together.

At that moment, goosebumps broke out all over my body.

I was aware that I had recalled an important clue. But at least for now, this wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

…Let’s put out the fire first and think about it later.

Fortunately, I could now explain that the entity I’d seen during the Hayut Massacre was a demon without relying on the data from the original work.

“……It was a black form made up of thousands of snakes. The holy book says demons take the form of serpents.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The Pope nodded and raised his teacup to his lips. His casual acceptance made me feel restless. According to that logic, the form made up of fish in the data wasn’t a demon. If that wasn’t a demon…

…Then what was I?

“Was the Hayut Massacre the work of a demon?”

“That’s right.”

I nodded, then took a deep breath. I looked into the Pope’s eyes, and added,

“……And I sensed divine power emanating from the demon.”

The Pope and Tykvana had arrived at the castle ten days after the Hayut Massacre took place. By that point, even any residual divine power would have vanished. That meant I was the only one who had sensed the demon’s divine power there that day.

So I figured even the Pope would be surprised. But my prediction was completely off the mark.

He set his teacup down on the saucer and asked calmly.

“Whose?”

“I don’t know that much. It was a divine power I’d never felt before.”

The Pope was silent for a moment. He tapped the armrest of the sofa rhythmically with his fingertips before speaking.

“Did you confront the demon?”

“Huh? …Yes.”

I glanced away. Then I felt a piercing gaze on my cheek. Without thinking, I quickly added.

“……I won.”

“No, it looks like you lost.”

“What are you talking about?”

I scowled and rolled my eyes.

“It attacked first, so I won.”

“If you got hurt, that doesn’t count as winning.”

……What an annoying man.

I stood up, biting the inside of my cheek. I took the sugar jar from the cupboard and refilled the bowl, which had been emptied in the meantime.

“……Well, yes, I got bitten by the demon.”

I pushed the refilled sugar bowl toward the Pope and continued.

“That’s probably why I went into divine power shock. I didn’t cause it that day.”

There were many moments when I felt like I was about to lose control, but I managed to hold it back.

In fact, it was rare for someone to go into divine power shock from another person’s divine power. Most of the time, it was caused by one’s own divine power.

When I was found in the annex after the Hayut Massacre, I was in divine power shock. That was why the Pope had no choice but to believe that I had caused the Hayut Massacre. But I didn’t, and the divine power shock I’d suffered was also the demon’s doing.

The demon’s weapon suddenly turned into a snake, and that damn snake bit a hole in my ankle.

I must have fallen into divine power shock because of the demon’s divine power that seeped in through that wound.

“Where were you bitten?”

“It healed ages ago.”

Despite the pain feeling like my ankle was melting when I was bitten, the wound had healed quickly. By the time I recovered from the divine power shock, it had already vanished without a trace.

“But it did mess with my memory.”

“So it made you believe you were the one who caused the Hayut Massacre?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Strictly speaking, the memories distorted by the brainwashing virus weren’t limited to that. My memories related to Iser were also twisted. But there was no need to go into that.

I shrugged and said,

“As you’ve probably already noticed, my memory is fine now.”

“Yes, it seems that way.”

The Pope brought his teacup to his lips and asked,

“So, do you want to get out of Hell now?”

“……There’s no reason for me to stay there anymore.”

The image of the Pope arguing with Bechard over my release flashed through my mind, and I found myself glancing around unconsciously.

“I see.”

His expression and tone were unremarkable. His face was as stiff as plaster, and his dry, matter-of-fact tone betrayed no emotion. But then.

Ding!

─────────【 Sub Quest 】──────

Praise ‘Jin Atalef Sarachephon’!

(1/1)

D-0 (8h 52m 10s)

Success!

──────────────────────────