Many things become much simpler once there's a way to stay in touch.
There's no need to rush decisions—when trouble comes, they can just reach out. With the amulet, communication only costs a single Magic Stone.
After the exchange, the Vouivre left with the rest of the Xenos.
To her, that's where she truly belonged.
Only in a shared world like theirs could the idea of being "seen differently" not exist.
Still, before leaving, the Vouivre made her way over to Bell.
"Don't forget our promise."
"Of course. As long as you keep surviving, I'll keep that promise."
"Then it's a deal."
To anyone else, their words sounded like some kind of cryptic, coded message.
But once the promise was affirmed, the Vouivre returned to the Xenos group with a smile full of hope.
Even as she walked away, she kept glancing back.
Ray noticed and couldn't help but ask in confusion, "Are you that close with Bell Cranel? Have you known each other that long?"
The Vouivre gently shook her head.
"No. Just a short time."
It might've been brief, but that time was enough for her to be certain—Bell was a good person. He was the only one she could trust.
"You trusted a new companion that quickly?"
"Mm. Not even a full day."
Lyd scratched his head, bewildered. Gaining the trust of a reborn comrade in less than a day?
He himself had memories of being killed in his past life. No matter what, he couldn't bring himself to trust the humans who had ended him.
So where exactly did this new trust come from?
Ray also couldn't quite understand where that trust came from, but the light in the child's eyes was undeniably real.
'I really wonder what this kid's been through to trust Bell Cranel that much.'
It wasn't just the three Xenos who were curious about this—Finn and the others shared the same question.
After the Xenos left with the Vouivre, Finn and the others shifted their attention to Bell.
"Bell-kun, how did you get so close to the Vouivre?"
"It's actually pretty simple. Just treat her like a person."
That single sentence rendered Finn and the others speechless.
Bell wasn't being sarcastic—he was simply explaining how he dealt with the Vouivre.
"Xenos are just humanoid beings with thoughts who happen to be classified as monsters."
"If you can accept them as demi-humans, then what's so hard about accepting them as Xenos?"
"At least to me, it's really not a big deal."
Bell's thinking was straightforward. Like the god Ouranos, he saw the self-aware Xenos born in the Dungeon as a type of demi-human.
In truth, with a slight shift in perspective, it wasn't that hard to accept.
More importantly, Bell didn't care much about race.
In the two-dimensional world, plenty of people liked monster girls—even Cthulhu in girl form wasn't off-limits.
With that level of acceptance, what else could be that hard to accept?
Did people really need to make such a big fuss over someone being a Xenos?
Honestly, Bell didn't think it was necessary.
"But Xenos are born from monsters. Doesn't that instinct to kill monsters extend to them as well?"
Finn raised a question.
During his earlier conversation with Ray, Finn had already learned about the unique way Xenos were born.
It was nothing short of miraculous.
Slain monsters were reborn in the Dungeon through a kind of reincarnation—and they retained memories of their previous lives.
When Finn learned that, he immediately grew concerned. That one fact alone would be hard for many adventurers to accept.
After all, some of the newly born Xenos might be monsters those adventurers had killed. So how could they trust that the Xenos wouldn't try to take revenge for their past deaths?
It could easily become a serious issue.
"Oh, that's your problem. It doesn't really have anything to do with me."
Bell's response abruptly snapped Finn out of his brooding.
"Huh?"
Finn gave Bell a strange look, waiting for him to explain.
And Bell didn't disappoint—but his answer left Finn utterly dumbfounded.
"I really hate the whole reincarnation thing."
"What if someone I killed came back through reincarnation?' I used to think about that a lot, so I made a special decision."
"If the people I kill can't reincarnate, then there's no problem.' That was the answer I came up with. It's a lot simpler than having to deal with people I killed showing up again."
"Wait!"
Finn quickly cut him off before he could go on, cautiously asking,
"So… you've completely stopped their reincarnation?"
"Is that even possible?"
Bell nodded matter-of-factly.
"It's not impossible. Reincarnation doesn't involve the body—it's about the soul. The simplest way to stop someone from reincarnating is to destroy their soul."
"Reincarnation carries over memories, so those memories must reside in the soul. That makes things simple."
"As long as you use a special method to destroy part of the soul before killing someone, their soul becomes incomplete. Without a complete soul, there's no reincarnation—and no chance of someone I killed coming back."
Good grief.
Finn was stunned. Bell's method of solving the reincarnation problem was to eliminate the root cause—kill the soul directly, preventing the entire cycle from ever starting.
It was a brutal but effective solution that left Finn speechless.
It also made him realize that Bell's approach to problem-solving often gravitated toward the "final" solution—death. That's why the issue of reincarnation would never catch up to him.
But honestly, Finn didn't even know how to respond to that.