Chapter 85

I just took Soo-oh and slipped away from that place. You see, the more I talk around here, the less mysterious I become. Plus, if there’s scarcity, physical regeneration can instantly turn into a pricey commodity. Just think about how the hope of being healed drives people to buy health supplements or join cults. When people hit rock bottom, their judgment clouds as they’ll grab at any straw.

When you put this together, desperate folks will come running. The sharp ones might notice that the purple-haired, pale-skinned guy who recovered and the suddenly stronger dude are connected. And with a bit of imagination, they might even figure out why Cheonma turned into a woman. Not to mention, ruining Jeonyang’s funeral would be bad form. Though only Cheonma seems to care about the dead these days. It’s the perfect place to recall how she visits the departed in times of need.

While I can’t predict how others will think, I scatter breadcrumbs and pick them up step by step. If someone like Cheonma, with critical knowledge, were to vanish, it’d be wise to act first and think later—but back then, I was in a rush. To regenerate, I had to jump in even if it cracked the world. Turns out, it did crack slightly, but over time, it heals like living tissue. Whether it fully healed or patched over like a scar, I’m not sure.

Walking home with Soo-oh, I viewed the world through the lens of the Harvesting System. First, Gapjae: he’s back to diligently working as a guardian. He was trying to cozy up to the regional chief until he saw Cheonma’s sword technique reshape the terrain during a battle. Now, he hasn’t contacted the chief, nor has the chief reached out to him. But Gapjae hasn’t given up. Every night at the personal training ground of the Cheonma faith, he practices martial arts based on the memories I sent Eunjai. His desire hasn’t dimmed—good.

Next is Byung-il. He’s fallen apart. No more items from other regional chiefs, his subordinates don’t recognize him, and they whisper about when he’ll die. His personality has warped so much he now bullies his underlings for fun and killed a servant just because he was annoyed. Killing people, even in this world, is still wrong—not from a human rights perspective, but from a labor force one. You wouldn’t smash your new computer just because you didn’t like it, right? That’s destruction of property, punishable by law. At best, you get fined and disciplined; at worst, you end up at the police station. Bottom line: it’s condemnable behavior. When criticized, Byung-il gets angrier, muttering about how everyone used to flatter him but now turns hostile. Slowly but surely, he’s getting worse—and that’s good. The more twisted he gets, the more warmth I can give him.

Meanwhile, the guardians and ordinary believers under the Celestial Palace chief are hard at work honing their martial skills. The commoners aren’t really practicing so much as being force-fed techniques, but surprisingly, they’re satisfied. Maybe seeing themselves grow stronger fuels their motivation. Through conversations between the Celestial Palace chief and her guardians, I learned that the pills created by the Harvesting System were useless trash—they had no effect on those who consumed them. No contracts formed, nothing happened. Sad, but at least I gained insight. They speculated that when a person becomes a harvester, they pull in all their potential and grow stronger. Thus, creating pills wouldn’t work since they’ve already used up their potential. But that’s likely not the answer.

In the first world, countless harvesters continued to grow after becoming harvesters. While this disproves their theory, perhaps it’s about maximizing potential at a given moment. Then what about Cheonma turning into a woman? Hmm… Special pills made from rare ingredients stack light upon light, growing brighter. This is because, when clinging to the harvester, the light remained pure white instead of turning deep purple. We shouldn’t rush to conclusions—we need more research. Light and warmth remain puzzles to solve, but gathering information will eventually clarify things.

Cheonma is busy with Jeonyang’s three-day-long funeral. Poor Cheonma seems to be the only one truly grieving. She plans to guard the funeral site, making her movement difficult. Someone might take advantage of this, especially those who dislike her. Seizing the opportunity, I advertised my services: anyone interested in healing, come find me. People desperate for recovery will definitely come flying. Especially since another harvester has been enthusiastically promoting my abilities. It worked!

*

Jeonyang’s funeral ended… and no one showed up. How sad! Why didn’t anyone come? The Cheonma faith has plenty of members with fatal injuries! Surely, at least one would come after hearing about miraculous recoveries? Cheonma hasn’t received updates while guarding the funeral site, meaning they chose not to come voluntarily. Perhaps they think healing won’t help or maybe the Cheonma faith is too controlled to send followers to strange individuals. Even though Cheonma became a harvester, I have no authority over harvesters—I’m either on equal footing or lower. Sending memories won’t work if their consciousness is strong enough. Flooding them with memories to drive them mad isn’t an option either. What can I do with such limited abilities?

Looking north, I see an endless blue forest leading to a city—a world reminiscent of wuxia novels filled with ordinary people. It’s where I fit in best. Should I head out or wait within the Cheonma faith? If I were alone, I’d leave without hesitation, but I have Soo-oh to consider. Wandering without a home isn’t ideal. Alternatively, finding a man destined to become a harvester could open new paths—like Omyeong-seong, who absorbed Eunchun’s qi using Heupsung Grand Law. Though not yet a harvester, our connection grows stronger. Soon, I’ll be able to make him one. Despite being fragmented, I’m fundamentally connected to everyone like threads tied to multiple figures drawn on paper, all converging at one point. Why can’t I control them despite having this power? Brainwashing would make extracting warmth easy!

“Choseol, what are you doing?”

As I grumble internally, Soo-oh suddenly pops up behind me. Still a child, her speech is short. I wonder if I should teach her honorifics or let her develop naturally. Should she learn social skills conversing with humans rather than a monster like me? But staying here might warp her thinking further. Perhaps leaving the Cheonma faith is worth considering. With Cheonma now a powerful suppressor, major events I desire seem unlikely. Unless the Cheonma faith dreams of unifying the martial world like the dark sect in the faded man’s memories, I won’t lend a hand. Since learning Gyuwa Protection, Cheonma no longer talks about conquering the martial world. She probably never cared much anyway. At most, there’s a slight chance she’ll invade under the guise of eradicating those responsible for Jeonyang’s death—but I shouldn’t say that aloud. A clever person would realize I have sinister intentions, especially since I supposedly loved Jeonyang. Mentioning this risks angering Cheonma, who vaguely knows my true nature. If things go awry, she might rally forces against me. Best to avoid creating enemies unless absolutely necessary.

First, I respond to Soo-oh, who’s currently rolling around on top of me like a cat. “I’m thinking about how to teach you.”

“I don’t like that.”

She playfully hits me with surprising strength thanks to her training. As Cheonma enjoys her trivial peace, I ponder cutting ties with the Cheonma faith.