The image on the light screen faded, and new text appeared upon it:
[The Imperial Second Pioneer Group has suffered its greatest setback to date.]
[They have conquered the Fragmentum, explored the ruins of the old world, and crushed countless Fragmentum monsters. Neither natural disasters nor external enemies have ever halted their steps.]
[And now, what disaster could not do, their fellow humans have.]
[The betrayal of the infected has dealt them an extremely heavy blow. The Imperial Second Pioneer Group has gained the trait: "Wall of the Heart (Gray)"]
[Wall of the Heart: Suspicion and distrust of others have formed a barrier that imprisons their true hearts. They have experienced an unprecedented betrayal and will never again trust their backs to another. The cohesion of the Imperial Second Pioneer Group will be drastically increased. The Imperial Second Pioneer Group can no longer be reformed or reinforced with new members. Their level of caution in all matters will increase by 100%. Their operational efficiency in all matters will decrease by 50%. Their hatred and suspicion towards the infected will be permanently fixed at the maximum value. It is impossible for any infected to ever gain their trust.]
Looking at the text on the screen, a fire of rage began to kindle within Ron's heart.
Things had indeed developed as he had predicted. The infected had rebelled. But what he hadn't predicted was that their rebellion was not a natural occurrence, but was guided and instigated by Sampo...
Through Sampo, they had learned of the Stellaron, and out of greed, they wanted to devour it to gain more power...
Therefore, they had launched a sneak attack on their comrades in the Pioneer Group and used the opportunity to escape the encirclement, rushing towards Everwinter Hill.
The reason the Pioneer Group had been trapped for so long and had suffered such heavy casualties was entirely because the infected had backstabbed them in the middle of the night. After the betrayal, they had fled, and the Pioneers, in their duty to stop them, had given chase, getting bogged down for so long.
The Pioneer Group had performed their duty to the letter and had suffered greatly for it. Ron felt a pang of guilt for them.
But more than that... was a torrential rage that erupted from the depths of his heart.
Sampo... It's Sampo again.
This Masked Fool, who had claimed he would remain on the edge of the stage and not truly participate, had completely broken his promise.
He had personally appeared to guide these infected, telling them of the Stellaron, seeking to stoke their greed and steer events in the direction he desired.
However, Ron had anticipated this. If it were just Sampo jumping out to cause trouble, Ron's anger would not have surged so violently...
He knew Sampo was a bastard whose words could not be trusted. Such petty tricks were normal for him.
But the actions of the infected were what truly enraged Ron. Sampo had merely told them that the Stellaron could bring them power, and not only did they believe him completely, but they also immediately and coldly rebelled against the empire, backstabbing their own comrades...
They made no effort to restrain their greed, allowing themselves to be completely consumed by desire... What quality did they possess that could still be called human?
To be honest, in this simulation, Ron could have accepted a betrayal from almost anyone—anyone except the infected.
Because in this simulation, Ron could afford to wrong anyone—
He had deceived Bronya, all to seize control of Belobog.
He had hidden the blessing of The Abundance from the public, all to keep consumption within the empire's manageable limits.
For the sake of his own control over the empire, he had demanded that Natasha's hands be stained with blood, even if it violated the philosophy of her Path and troubled her conscience...
But he had never once wronged any of the infected. Even though he had always considered them a drag on the empire, he had never thought of completely abandoning them.
Consuming the Seed of Calamity was a result of their own greed, and yet, faced with these parasitized individuals, Ron had still pardoned their sins.
For the sake of the empire's stability, and perhaps out of a sliver of his own compassion... their lives might have been simple, but they were by no means miserable.
Ron... no, the entire empire was working to bring them back into the fold, to ensure they were not ostracized because of their infection, but could return to their families.
No one had wronged them. Everyone had shown them great kindness...
But they had repaid their benefactors with blades, surrendering to the greedy desires in their hearts, using the lives of others as stepping stones to fulfill their own ambitions, and casting aside everyone's goodwill like a worn-out shoe...
If not for their greed, none of this would have happened.
Ron took a deep breath. A fire raged in his mind, but a tangle of conflicting thoughts also clamored for his attention.
A cold Ron seemed to be running calculations, his icy voice weighing the benefits:
"Although the Pioneer Group was wounded, it was within expectations... It was a necessary sacrifice. The losses are far, far smaller than the gains."
A lazy Ron yawned and spoke languidly:
"Hah... Isn't this fine? Just keep going down the same path. There are no major losses, and the original plan can still be implemented. Don't think about such troublesome things..."
And a competitive Ron spoke urgently:
"What are you hesitating for?! If you play it this way, you're guaranteed to win! You've lost the last few games; it's time for a win. This small price is nothing. The most important thing is to win! Win!"
The cacophony of voices in his head unsettled Ron. He shook his head, casting the thoughts out.
He had no time to sort through them now.
He looked at the screen before him, his hands moving unhurriedly as he operated the simulation, checking on the Second Pioneer Group. After learning that although their injuries were severe, their proximity to Belobog meant they could safely return to their garrison, he immediately left Everwinter Hill and headed back.
The reason for his urgency was that Ron knew one thing—
If Sampo could corrupt the infected within the Pioneer Group, he could absolutely corrupt the ones in the quarantine zone.
This whole affair was, in fact, a ploy to lure the tiger from the mountain... The number of infected within the Pioneer Group was too small. No matter how much Sampo instigated them, as long as he didn't act personally, it wouldn't have a major impact on the group.
And while the number of infected in the quarantine zone was large, with Ron standing guard in Belobog, no matter what chaos Sampo stirred up, Ron could personally suppress it without any major consequences.
Therefore... seizing the opportunity of Ron's absence, Sampo would inevitably go to the quarantine zone to corrupt the infected and trigger a massive riot.
With this thought, Ron tapped the screen, making his character speed up on the way back to Belobog.
Although Ron didn't know why Sampo was so set against him, he could roughly figure out what the man was up to.
Sampo loved to take things that should have been kept secret, use them as bargaining chips, embellish them, and present them to ordinary people, luring these uninformed individuals into making choices they never should have made.
The infected who had consumed the Seed of Calamity were like that, and so were these infected who now wanted to seize the Stellaron.
As Ron thought this, new text popped up on the screen:
[You are extremely uneasy, suspecting that the Masked Fool will return to Belobog and, just as he lured the infected in the Pioneer Group, corrupt the ones in the quarantine zone to trigger an unprecedented riot.]
[You know that the number of infected in the quarantine zone is vast. Without you there, the First Pioneer Group would be absolutely unable to suppress their rebellion.]
[You hurry back to Belobog. As you step through the city gates, you catch the faint, unmistakable scent of blood.]
[Alarm bells scream in your mind. You follow the scent, encountering more and more citizens who have stopped in their tracks, all staring in the direction the smell is coming from...]
[As expected, you push through the crowded throng and arrive at the empty space in the center... You have reached the Belobog People's Hospital.]
[You see, at the exit of the quarantine zone, the First Pioneer Group is desperately holding back a dark green tide.]
[The infected in the quarantine zone have rebelled.]
The text on the screen faded, and a new scene emerged:
"Hiss... Scrape..."
The sound of vines scraping against stone filled the air. Endless vines, as if with a mind of their own, surged out from the quarantine zone and rushed towards the First Pioneer Group standing guard at the exit.
The vines crashed down like a tidal wave, sending some unlucky soldiers flying, then slamming them onto the ground. The Pioneers coughed up mouthfuls of blood mixed with organ fragments, curling up on the ground like shrimp, passing out from the sheer pain.
Leading the heroic battle at the front were not only Seele, the commander of the First Pioneer Group, but also Natasha, who stood with her people, facing the rolling tide of vines.
But their condition was not good. Both Seele and Natasha were already heavily wounded.
Their sturdy military uniforms were torn by the vines, revealing gashed flesh beneath.
Blood stained their clothes, dripping to the ground to form small puddles.
Severe wounds, deep enough to see bone, littered their bodies... Where Natasha's left arm should have been, there was now only an empty, torn, blood-soaked sleeve. Her arm had been ripped off by someone's hand.
They were gravely injured.
But facing the tide of vines assaulting the Pioneer Group, they held back, merely trying to block the attacks, holding their defensive line without retreating, but also without showing the razor-sharp edge that the Pioneers were known for...
The reason was simple.
The citizens of Belobog, awakened by the sounds of battle, had left their homes and surrounded the quarantine zone, watching the fight unfold.
But this was more than just a battle.
The green tide of vines suddenly stilled and receded. The infected's assault had paused, giving Natasha and Seele a moment's respite.
Natasha took a deep breath, a faint green light glowing in her right palm as she pressed it with great effort against Seele.
Under the influence of The Abundance's power, Seele's wounds gradually healed, and the bleeding stopped, her condition temporarily stabilized.
But the green light in Natasha's hand suddenly died.
As if her power was completely spent, Natasha gasped for air, her face turning deathly pale. She tried to summon the power of The Abundance to heal her own severed arm, but the green light flickered once, like a faulty incandescent bulb, and went out.
Her unhealed wound seemed to worsen from the overexertion. Blood gushed out, and her vision went dark as she nearly collapsed.
"Natasha!"
Seele quickly steadied her, propping her up to prevent her from falling. Her eyes welled with an overflowing sorrow and grievance, tears about to fall...
But almost no one paid attention to their plight. Almost everyone was looking at the tide of vines in the quarantine zone—
One by one, infected individuals emerged from it, their faces twisted into identical ferocious expressions. Hoarse words full of hatred were shouted in unison as they questioned the Pioneer Group:
"We don't want to hurt you, so why do you insist on stopping us?"
"The empire's blades are not turned against its enemies, but against us, its innocent citizens... How long will you continue to persecute us?!"
Leaning on Seele for support, Natasha weakly straightened up. As Ron's second-in-command, she was the only one who could speak for the empire now.
"You are infected... You must remain in quarantine at the Belobog People's Hospital until you are cured and will no longer turn into monsters. Only then can you leave..."
Natasha coughed twice as she spoke, her voice extremely weak, her condition clearly dire.
"You are trying to leave before you have recovered. Of course, we have to stop you..."
But before Natasha could finish, an infected person rudely cut her off, his voice full of incitement and hatred.
"Infected this, infected that! When will this despicable empire admit that this is nothing but persecution against us, the evolved?!"
"Do you dare tell everyone? Those Pioneers, those so-called heroes of the empire who brave death to enter the Fragmentum—what's the difference between them and us?!"
"Did they not eat the same Seed of Calamity that we did? Then why do they get to be heroes and enjoy all the glory, while we are forced into this garbage dump called a 'hospital,' to rot and fester together under your persecution, just waiting to die?"
The infected spoke with great pain, his voice growing weaker, softer, until it was filled only with sadness and suffering, as if he had been greatly wronged.
"You... you can't lock us up. We just want to go home..."
These infected, all of them, were rational. They had not been consumed by desire and turned into mindless monsters.
Therefore, everything they were doing, everything they were saying... was from the heart, and meticulously planned.
They were questioning the Pioneer Group, questioning the empire, using the weight of public opinion to cast themselves as persecuted victims, forcing the empire to respond.
And Natasha was forced to respond, explaining to them in a weak voice:
"The Pioneers did not eat the Seed of Calamity. They only consumed 'Snowstorm Immunity.' That potion only grants immunity to the snow and the Fragmentum. It doesn't turn people into terrifying monsters like the Seed does..."
But another infected stepped forward, brazenly interrupting her.
"'Snowstorm Immunity'?! 'Snowstorm Immunity' is the Seed of Calamity! The Seed of Calamity is 'Snowstorm Immunity'!"
"Just because you say so? If 'Snowstorm Immunity' is so great, why doesn't the empire immediately distribute it to everyone, so we can all be immune and take back the entire planet instead of cowering in Belobog!"
Hearing this brazen declaration, Natasha struggled to speak.
"No, you've misunderstood. It's not that the empire doesn't want to distribute it, it's just because..."
But the infected interrupted her again, just as rudely.
"Because of what? Because people who take 'Snowstorm Immunity' will also turn into monsters?!"
"The empire is full of cowards! You refuse to admit what you've done! Is it because you're afraid of the truth being laid bare for all to see, tearing off your hypocritical masks?"
"The evolved are everywhere, and we haven't done anything wrong, yet we are treated differently by the empire! If we refuse to be the empire's dogs, we are thrown into this so-called hospital, which is nothing but a garbage dump for the quarantined..."
He glared, pointing at the heavily injured Natasha, spittle flying from his mouth, his words dripping with accusation.
"Aren't you just bullying honest people?!"
With that sentence, the entire scene fell silent.
After a moment, the citizens surrounding the battlefield began to whisper among themselves. The sea of people rustled with hushed conversations...
"I can't believe the empire did such things..."
"I always thought there was something off about those Pioneers. How could a normal person do those things? Turns out they ate the Seed..."
"What are you saying? You're not allowed to slander the Pioneers!"
"The Pioneers are the heroes of our Underworld! How dare a scoundrel like you slander them?! Even if they did eat the Seed, it's definitely not the same as what these infected ate!"
"Tch, not the same... Give me a break. What kind of heroes can come from you mud-legs in the Underworld?"
"No wonder. The Pioneers and that Ron fellow are all from the Underworld. They probably had bad intentions from the start. It's only natural they'd do something like this. It's a pity our Lady Cocolia was such a poor judge of character, letting someone like that take power..."
"His Majesty Ron is our hero too! How dare you say such shameless things..."
"Heh, enough with the bootlicking..."
The noisy chatter from the crowd formed a strange symphony, a headache-inducing cacophony.
The infected who had stepped forward to guide the public opinion listened to the voices, then silently retreated back into the tide of vines, a completely false, joyous smile on his lips.
The image on the screen paused, and a new option box appeared:
[Disaster Event—"The Great Infected Riot" has been triggered.]
[As you predicted, the infected in the quarantine zone have completely rioted, launching an unprecedented rebellion.]
[While maintaining their sanity, they have shown no mercy, raising their butcher's knives against their fellow countrymen, the very Pioneers who had once carved a path through the snow to bring them resources.]
[This riot has attracted the attention of almost the entire city. Everyone is watching to see how it will end. Public opinion has already been steered in an unnatural direction by the infected...]
[How you handle this event, whether you unleash the rage in your heart or suppress this turmoil, is a choice you must now make.]
[Please choose—]
[1. "Who was it just now that said I'm bullying honest people? So what if I fucking am!" You know there must be a source for this, someone pulling the strings behind the scenes. Without that mastermind, there is still room for maneuver. You decide to follow the rage in your heart, drag that bastard out, and deal with him severely, showing everyone your iron fist. You will sit on your throne and tell all the people of the empire to tremble under your majesty... You are the Emperor, and you will always be the Emperor. Whoever dares to cross you will have it repaid a thousandfold.]
[2. Stop this conflict and issue an edict of self-censure. You know this situation has reached a point of no return. Public opinion has been twisted to an unrecoverable position. You cannot truly act against these infected, because they have already become the victims. If you continue to "harm" them, the empire will inevitably collapse. You decide to first use forceful means to stop the conflict, then issue an edict of self-censure, admitting the empire's faults, to temporarily maintain stability...]
[3. I'LL FUCKING KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL. Heaven brought forth all of creation to nurture the people, yet the people offer not one good deed in return to Heaven. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! The disloyal shall be slain! The unfilial shall be slain! The unkind shall be slain! The unrighteous shall be slain! The disrespectful, the foolish, the faithless. Emperor Ron says: Kill, kill, kill! The empire... no longer has any reason to exist. It's time to let it all burn!]
Looking at the screen, the clamor of thoughts in Ron's mind began anew.
Countless chaotic ideas assaulted his reason. No matter how he analyzed it, no matter how he thought, rationally, the second option was the most stable.
If he wanted to win this game, retreating to advance was naturally the best choice. As long as he could quell today's conflict and stabilize the empire, there would be plenty of ways to solve these problems later. There was every hope of seeing this simulation through to a final victory.
Even with Sampo making trouble, it was the same... Ron believed he could handle Sampo's tricks in the later stages of the simulation.
But... why should he?
Ron stared at the screen, slowly emptying his mind, letting all the complicated thoughts roll out.
To win this game, to not let his previous efforts go to waste, to see this simulation reach a good ending...
He wanted all of these things, but right now, he would not choose based on these goals.
In the end... this was just a game.
"You play a game to win!" For Ron, this was true most of the time, but not always.
Because what he truly believed was, "You play a game to have fun!"
Most of the time, winning was fun. But sometimes, like now, winning required you to eat shit, to suffer endless grievances...
Ron never allowed himself to suffer such great grievances.
It was just a game. What did winning or losing one round matter?
You think I'm just going to indulge you?
Ron sneered at the options on the screen and, without a shred of hesitation, clicked the third option.
---o---
[The infected in the quarantine zone have rioted again, but this time it was not a small portion being consumed by desire and turning into mindless monsters. This time, all the infected, while still sane, have charged the exit.]
[A dark green tide has swept forward, crashing against the Silvermane Guards and the First Pioneer Group defending the zone.]
[Faced with this situation, you immediately leave the laboratory and join the fight, determined to hold the infected back and prevent them from escaping.]
[You have taken to the battlefield, uncharacteristically wielding your grenade launcher. You are a doctor and rarely have the opportunity to fight.]
[Going to war is unfamiliar to you, but these are desperate times. You are unwilling to watch Seele fight alone. You must accompany her as a commander and crush these infected who are trying to break out.]
[Faced with the madly growing vines that have formed a dark green tide, you grip your grenade launcher tightly.]
[The war has begun.]
...
[You and Seele have successfully led the Pioneer Group to repel the first wave of attacks. The infected have failed to break your lines and have not even managed to cause any significant harm to your soldiers.]
[Although the infected attacked with great ferocity, they were no match for the battle-hardened Pioneers. They were just ordinary citizens and stood no chance. The battle was completely one-sided.]
[Ron's previous calculations were extremely precise. Even if all the infected in the quarantine zone were consumed by desire and turned into monsters, as long as they hadn't had enough time to develop and the Pioneer Group could intervene immediately, the defensive force stationed there could easily suppress the rebellion.]
[Although this riot was somewhat strange, it clearly couldn't make any major waves... You were very confident in this, not just in your own ability, but also in Ron's calculations.]
...
[You and Seele have repelled the second wave. This time, you both suffered minor injuries.]
[You begin to suspect that something is not right with these infected. Your assessment of the battle has begun to shift. You no longer believe you can win this easily.]
[The infected show no resentment each time their assault is repelled. It seems they are just trying to prolong the battle. Each retreat may not be a true retreat, but a temporary withdrawal to avoid the Pioneers' sharpest attacks, deliberately dragging out the fight...]
[Citizens who should not have been involved have heard the sounds of battle and have come to watch.]
[You order your soldiers to disperse them, to prevent the situation from escalating.]
[But the infected's tactics have cast a shadow over your heart... You suspect they have another motive.]
[But a new wave of attacks is coming. You have no time to think. You can only raise your grenade launcher again and meet their assault...]
...
[You and Seele have struggled to repel the seventh wave of attacks. You are both heavily wounded.]
[In a moment of carelessness, an infected got close to you. Powerful vines, like steel whips, locked onto your left arm and twisted it off. You have lost an arm. You have gained the trait: "One-Armed Person (Gray)"]
[One-Armed Person: You have lost an arm, a part of your own body. Your Strength, Stamina, and Combat Power receive a 20% debuff until your injury is fully healed.]
[It is no longer possible to disperse the ordinary citizens who have come to watch. The battle has lasted too long, and you cannot spare the manpower to maintain order. Now, almost everyone in Belobog knows that the infected and the empire's army have clashed and are engaged in a bloody battle outside the People's Hospital...]
[The infected's attacks are growing stronger. You have a vague feeling that they shouldn't possess such power, but in this moment of crisis, you have no time to dwell on it.]
[During their attacks, the infected have begun to proclaim to the innocent bystanders how the empire has persecuted them. Even though the empire has done no such thing, they speak with such conviction, twisting the intent of every policy to guide the citizens' aversion towards the empire.]
[You want to defend the empire, but the assault has left you exhausted, with no time to explain.]
[And because of the onlookers, public opinion has shifted in a dangerous direction. If you cause any casualties among the infected, it could trigger a major incident with severe consequences.]
[To maintain the people's perception of the empire, to prevent it from collapsing, you have been forced to tighten the Pioneer Group's formation and order them to not use lethal force, to act defensively and simply hold them back.]
[You are waiting for Ron, hoping he can solve this...]
"How did it come to this..."
Natasha looked at the screen, her head drooping in disappointment as she sighed helplessly.
She knew this was a critical juncture. The Seed of Calamity was the greatest disaster she had faced in the simulation. Until it was resolved, this run could fail at any moment.
But she hadn't expected the end to come so quickly, so unexpectedly...
And so unsatisfactorily.
Natasha felt that this riot could have been resolved.
Although the infected had rebelled, most of them were still rational and could be reasoned with.
While they were already trying to manipulate public opinion to pressure the empire into letting them go, that was still a minor issue.
Natasha knew that if Ron hadn't gone deep into the Fragmentum to search for the Second Pioneer Group, none of this would have happened.
Ron would have had a way to suppress these people, to solve the PR problem, and to prevent the empire from collapsing.
"But Ron isn't in Belobog right now..."
Natasha sighed again.
It was just too much of a coincidence... It had to happen precisely when Ron was away.
If Ron couldn't get back immediately, if they couldn't stop these infected from escaping, then it would all be over...
Even if they held them back, if the standoff dragged on any longer and the infected incited more of the public, the ignorant masses, out of "pity" and "sympathy," would cause even greater chaos, possibly even attacking the army...
Then it would really be game over.
Natasha stared at the screen, but after a long time, she couldn't see any way for her to influence the outcome. She slumped back in her clinic chair, defeated.
This was truly beyond her ability to handle... She had already done her best.
I give up.
She looked at the screen. The text faded, and a new scene appeared:
"Aren't you just bullying honest people?!"
In the distance, a blue-haired, powerfully built infected man with a scar on his face was pointing at Natasha and shouting. Even from over a hundred meters away, his voice was deafening, his rage palpable.
"I... I'm not..."
Natasha's bloodless lips moved, as if she wanted to explain, but her vision filled with static. A strong wave of dizziness washed over her, and she couldn't get a single word out.
A feeling of cold and suffocation filled her body, something a Pathstrider who had walked so far on the Path of The Abundance should rarely feel.
Pathstriders of The Abundance were all powerful healers. And a healer heals themselves. They were rarely troubled by illness or injury.
Even if they did not receive a direct blessing from the Apothecary, when their time came, they would not suffer a painful, tortured death.
They would simply close their eyes peacefully, enjoying the final moments of tranquility... They would walk into death in a state of health. This was the peace the Path of The Abundance brought them.
But Natasha couldn't.
She no longer had the strength to summon the power of her Path to heal her wounds. She could only feel her life force draining away, feel the cold approach of death...
Until a wave of warmth appeared beside her, washing over her body like a tide, making her feel incredibly warm.
"Is... is this heaven?"
Natasha murmured. Driven by the strength this warmth gave her, she slowly opened her hazy eyes—
But before her was not God, but Ron, his expression gentle.
A pale green light with a golden sheen, guided by Ron's hand, fell upon her. The warm current washed over her body. The ground beneath her sprouted glowing green grass, which gently lifted her up. An infinite amount of life force, controlled by Ron, poured into her body, mending her wounds.
It had to be said, because of the Apothecary's attention, Ron's progress on the Path of The Abundance had reached an unimaginable level...
Natasha's severe injuries were easily healed under his influence. The wounds that had been deep enough to see bone closed, and the bleeding stopped.
Only her severed arm, strangely, could not be healed. It seemed some odd power was attached to it, something even Ron's abilities could not fix.
Clearly, the attack that had taken her arm was not normal. It must have come from someone... unusual.
"Ron, you're back..."
Seeing Ron's face, Natasha's entire body went limp with relief.
"Yes, I'm back... Leave the rest to me. I will solve this, completely."
A strong sense of security filled Natasha's chest. Ron looked quietly at her face, at her empty left sleeve. His expression was calm, his tone gentle, but one could feel an austere coldness beneath it...
Looking at the screen, Natasha let out a sigh of relief.
She hadn't expected Ron to return at such a moment. The timing was perfect. The simulation hadn't ended yet. If Ron acted, he could surely resolve this crisis and maintain the empire's stability... Wait.
Natasha suddenly realized something was wrong.
She looked at Ron's gentle eyes in the image and felt a faint chill emanating from them. And hearing his words, "solve this, completely"...
A bad premonition arose in her heart.
The image on the screen paused, and a new option box appeared:
[The infected's rebellion is about to break through the Pioneer Group's defensive line. As one of their leaders, you are gravely wounded.]
[At this final moment, a travel-worn Ron has rushed back from the Fragmentum, pulling you back from the brink of death.]
[He tells you to leave the rest to him... He will solve this, completely.]
[You keenly sense that his idea of a "solution" is not the same as yours... A strong killing intent is clearly emanating from his eyes.]
[Faced with this situation, you force yourself to stay alert and make a choice—]
[1. Stop Ron! The empire is in a precarious state right now. You know that Ron's heart is surely burning with rage, but if he acts on that anger and kills all these infected, all your previous efforts will have been for nothing. No matter what, even if it is Ron who acts, for a massacre of the infected to happen in front of most of Belobog's citizens will surely cause the empire to collapse. Since the Pioneer Group has also been heavily wounded and looks to be on even footing with the infected, they are not yet seen as the aggressors. There is still a chance to turn public opinion around... For the vow you made together, for the empire's stable future, you must stop Ron.]
[2. "Perhaps, I should also be angry..." You know the empire's current situation... but you no longer have the heart to care about such things. You have given so much for the Jarilo-VI Second Empire... Like Ron, you have been a great benefactor to all the people of the empire. You have given your all for its future, only to be treated like this in the end. Even you feel anger at such an injustice. You know why Ron is making this choice. You feel his anger as if it were your own... An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. You have completely lost faith in the empire's subjects... Such villains must have their deeds repaid a thousandfold!]
Looking at the choice, Natasha couldn't help but purse her lips in a bitter smile.
Just like in the simulation, she felt a small flicker of anger in her own heart—
After all, in this simulation, both she and Ron had poured all their efforts into creating a bright future for the empire, governing it conscientiously and always working for the people's welfare. Even when they did things that were extreme by conventional standards, it was always a necessary sacrifice for the empire's continuation.
But the infected had all rebelled, and were even inciting the other citizens, making them distrust the empire... Why did they have to endure such doubt?
Natasha felt she had a clear conscience. She had done nothing wrong.
However, if she were to actually choose the second option, she definitely wouldn't...
Because the second option was clearly a "game over" choice. If she made that choice, the empire would completely collapse.
While it would be satisfying to get her revenge right now, what Natasha wanted was not revenge...
What she had always wanted was to cure the chronic illness of this land, to let everyone walk safely under the blue sky, to reclaim all of Jarilo-VI.
Although the situation was infuriating, it was just a simulation. Natasha didn't care that much...
In fact, if something like this happened in reality, the Natasha who had unhesitatingly gone to the Underworld to be a doctor would be willing to suffer any grievance if it meant a better future for the empire.
I should persuade Ron to focus on the bigger picture...
With this thought, Natasha clicked the first option.
---o---
[You have successfully charged into the battlefield, pulling a heavily wounded, near-death Natasha back from the gates of hell.]
[The onlookers all let out gasps of surprise, all of them discussing your arrival.]
["It's His Majesty Ron... His Majesty has returned."]
["What will His Majesty do? Faced with a situation like this..."]
[They are all curious about your actions. In the words of most, a hint of expectation can be heard... They hope you can make a perfect choice and resolve today's conflict.]
[Although some of them had just been questioning the empire, and many had openly or secretly ridiculed its political system and held animosity towards you, their emperor, now, like most normal people, they all wished for the empire's stability and peace.]
[Their improving lives were not a lie... Even those who had slandered the empire the most knew that their lives were immeasurably better than during the old Belobog era. No one wanted to see the empire collapse.]
[But you have already made your decision... An empire like this no longer has any reason to exist.]
[You briefly treat Natasha's wounds, then hand her over to Seele, preparing to stand up and walk towards that group of infected who should have disappeared from this world long ago...]
[But Natasha grabs your hand.]
The text on the screen faded, and a new scene appeared:
"Ron... don't be rash."
Natasha forced herself up, grabbing Ron's hand, a pleading look in her eyes.
"You can't do that... The empire can't withstand such a blow. If you, as the Emperor, kill these infected in front of everyone, the entire empire will fall into panic."
"We still haven't explained 'Snowstorm Immunity'... The people are like grass swaying in the wind, they believe whatever they hear. If you really kill these infected, the empire will completely collapse."
"I don't want to see the empire fall apart... Ron, do you remember our vow?"
"'We will embrace under the blue sky'... The snowstorms and the Fragmentum will no longer be a threat to Belobog. People will be able to travel freely under the blue sky, reaching every corner of the world."
As Natasha spoke, a hint of loss appeared in her eyes.
"If you really let your anger run wild, then our dream will be impossible to achieve."
"Give it up, Ron. Let's find a way to resolve this conflict and let the empire continue..."
The image on the screen paused, and new options appeared:
[Faced with Natasha's final plea before you act, you choose—]
[1. "...You're right, Natasha." Having calmed down, you have finally regained your reason and decide to listen to Natasha... You cannot calm down. This option is unavailable.]
[2. "These villains must receive the punishment they deserve, but for the sake of our dream, the empire should indeed be maintained..." Natasha's words have slightly dampened your anger. You decide to deal with these infected, then find a way to stabilize the empire... Your anger will not be extinguished. This option is unavailable.]
[3. "Even if I kill them a thousand times... it won't be enough!!" Your rage is unstoppable! Your killing intent pierces the heavens! The enemy is before you, how can you retreat? Crush them!]
Looking at the options, Ron couldn't help but feel a little wistful.
Natasha was truly a wonderful woman. From her words, it was clear she understood the situation, yet out of the kindness of her heart, she still held onto a beautiful fantasy about this broken empire...
Although Ron did feel a small pang of regret, a desire to see this game through to the end—after all, he had promised Natasha a new, warm world, and to make a different choice now when he could have fulfilled it felt a bit like letting her down.
But having come this far, there was no way he was going to listen to Natasha and cower like a turtle in its shell again.
Even the two options for continued forbearance were grayed out. Only the third option, overflowing with killing intent, was still lit...
He was long since fed up with these stupid infected.
Every last one of them deserved to be purged!
With this thought, a slightly twisted smile appeared on Ron's face, and he unhesitatingly clicked the third option.
The option box disappeared, and the scene continued to play:
"Natasha... I understand what you're thinking."
Ron looked back at Natasha, who was holding his right hand, trying to stop him. He sighed softly.
"But Natasha... have you ever heard the saying?"
"A saying?"
Natasha was taken aback. "What saying?"
"'Cede five cities today, ten cities tomorrow, and gain a single night of peace. But when you wake and look at your borders, the enemy's soldiers have arrived once more...'"
"If we do as you say, we will face that exact situation, our bottom line tested again and again, until they are trampling all over us."
As Ron spoke, his tone softened. He gently pulled his hand free from hers.
"Actually, our vow... the two of us can complete it alone."
"When the time comes, I'll travel all of Jarilo-VI with just you... Why do we need to care about these rotten people?"
Ron turned his head, his gaze falling on the infected in the distance, still arrogantly waving their vines...
"The enemy is right before me. How can I compromise?"
His clear voice was laced with ice. His anger finally erupted.
"I will strike, until the fields are stained with blood and no enemies remain!"
"Wait for my triumphant return!"
The image on the screen faded, and new text appeared:
[You have charged into the quarantine zone without hesitation.]
[The infected, who could act so arrogantly before the Pioneer Group, fell silent the moment you entered. The writhing vines went still.]
[Under your influence, they withered, eventually turning into dry, yellow branches that scattered into dust with the wind.]
[You have unleashed the most ferocious attitude of your life, slaughtering the infected. Their attitude towards you has changed from snarling beasts wanting to tear you apart, to trembling cowards, scrambling to flee at the mere sight of you.]
The text faded, and a new scene appeared:
"Your Majesty Ron, sp-spare me! I beg you, spare me!"
An infected trembled, looking at the slowly approaching Ron. He instinctively backed away, but tripped on a loose stone and fell, scrambling backward on the ground, his eyes fixed on the man who, despite being unstained by a single drop of blood, reeked of it.
"Before... when you founded the empire, I was one of your most loyal supporters! I even worked in the Silvermane Guards' logistics! If I have no merit, at least I have labored! I beg you, for the sake of—"
"For the sake of what?"
Ron cut him off lightly.
"Betraying the empire? Or harming the heroes of the Pioneer Group?"
"I... I..."
The infected was at a loss for words, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. He racked his brain, then suddenly shouted fiercely:
"Even if I have committed a crime, it's not your place to kill me now, Ron!"
"Have... have you forgotten the laws of the empire? Even if you sentence me, it must be through a trial in the Belobog court—"
A thick vine, like a giant python, shot out from the shadows nearby and coiled around the infected.
"Crack... crunch..."
The infected was crushed until every bone in his body was shattered, squeezed into a pile of pulp that collapsed limply on the ground.
Ron watched him silently, then waved his hand, dismissing the dark golden amber shield that had blocked the spray of blood. He said softly:
"You're right."
"But I am the law."
The image on the screen faded, and new text appeared:
[You have massacred a great number of the infected. The citizens of the empire who witnessed this are all aghast, filled with terror of you.]
[The empire's Stability and Cohesion have plummeted.]
[Annoyed by the citizens' screams, you casually summon a dense cage of vines to cover the entire quarantine zone. Now, no one can see what is happening inside.]
[The citizens have become even more terrified. The empire's Stability and Cohesion have plummeted drastically.]
Looking at the text, Ron shrugged indifferently.
Before, seeing the empire's stats drop so sharply would have had him tearing his hair out, trying to figure out how to stabilize it.
But now, Ron didn't give a damn.
Drop, don't drop, who cares?
Who needs an empire? As of today, the empire is gone. I, Ron, am quitting. You disgusting idiots can go find someone more reliable if you can!
With that thought, Ron didn't pay it much mind.
There was only one thing... or rather, one person he cared about now.
And that was the person who was now appearing on the screen...
Ron looked at the screen as new text appeared:
[You have ventured deep into the quarantine zone, slaughtering an unknown number of infected who, out of greed, had walked the path of evil.]
[Finally, in the depths of the zone, you have found the person you swore to find the moment you entered.]
[You have found the special Masked Fool... Sampo.]
The text faded, and a new scene emerged:
Ron strode into the depths of the quarantine zone. Although it was shielded by his vine cage, because his vines constantly emitted a faint golden light, it was actually quite bright inside.
Not far ahead of him, a cowering, middle-aged infected, looking just as terrified as the others, stared at Ron with panicked eyes.
"D-don't kill me, I beg..."
"Stop acting, Sampo."
Ron cut off his performance without hesitation. He glanced at the infected's striking blue hair and stared at him coldly.
"You know why I'm here... It's time to settle the score, you bastard."
"Oh my, how did you figure it out..."
Hearing Ron's curse, the infected whined playfully, then his entire demeanor changed. He placed a hand on his chest and gave Ron a slight, elegant bow.
"It is a deep honor to meet you, my dear... I am Sampo Koski, Belobog's most reliable merchant, and your most, most, most reliable friend—"
He approached Ron with exuberant warmth, his arms spread wide.
"What's wrong, so unhappy to see me? Oh, don't be angry now. How about... a hug?"
Ron stared intently at Sampo. The man's face was brimming with a joyous smile, and his desire to embrace Ron was genuine.
He had no defenses up against Ron. None at all.
But Ron knew this wasn't because Sampo trusted him, or because they had developed some kind of bond in their previous encounters...
It was simply because Sampo saw him as no threat. He didn't need to care. That was all.
"...Why?"
Ron looked at the open-armed Sampo but did not embrace him. After a long silence, he asked a question from the bottom of his heart.
"Why would you do those things?"
Although Ron could somewhat guess what Sampo would do, he still couldn't fully understand his motives.
Why did this man do these things? What was he thinking?
Ron didn't know... He hoped to find the answer from Sampo.
"Why? What are you talking about?"
Sampo scratched his head, looking completely nonchalant.
"Are you asking why I gave everyone that stuff the Apothecary made?"
He put on a pained expression.
"Oh, family, didn't I write it all in the letter? Human dignity! Human dignity! How could you not give them the chance to choose?"
"No matter what the choice is, they have to be given the chance to choose. That's what respect is... See, just like now, they've all made their choices and are paying the price for them."
As Sampo spoke, his expression revealed a hint of lofty detachment...
Ron looked at the Sampo on the screen and finally understood his thinking completely.
Whether it was giving the Seed of Calamity to ordinary people or telling the infected about the Stellaron, in Sampo's mind, it was all beautified as giving people the right to choose, as respecting their "human dignity"...
But Ron saw no respect for humanity whatsoever.
He was simply using this so-called "respect for humanity" as a high-minded excuse to lure these ordinary people, to control the development of events on Jarilo-VI.
A Masked Fool indeed... Ron could clearly sense that Sampo was treating everything on Jarilo-VI as a play. For the sake of the play's entertainment value and his own beloved dramatic twists, he would personally step onto the stage and try to guide its development.
Because he felt that Ron hiding the Blessed Berries was wrong, he took them all out and distributed them to everyone, giving them all a choice.
But Sampo must have known in his heart... that Ron's choice was the correct one.
Hiding the berries was the only way to lead the empire to a good end.
Only when the empire had developed to its peak could these things be brought out for a species-wide evolution. Only then could the empire bear the food consumption without its social order collapsing.
But Sampo had to give these things to the people now, even adding some extra spice, to test their humanity. If it was a play, then a more dramatic ending was more fun.
A simple story of Ron leading the empire to rejuvenation, developing step by step, would probably look too smooth because of Ron's own competence. The plot would be flat, without any dramatic beauty.
But a tragedy, telling the story of a hero defeated by the depravity of human nature, of humanity being destroyed by its own greed... now that would be full of ups and downs, enough to fill one with emotion, to make one shed a tear.
So that's what Sampo did. He used embellished words to guide people into making choices they never should have made, then called it giving them the power to choose, respecting their dignity, and sat back and laughed as he watched his handiwork unfold, watching the play he had orchestrated slowly reach its tragic finale—
But for an outsider, it might just be a play. For the people of the empire, it was a real disaster...
Sampo didn't care in the slightest what happened to any of the people caught up in his drama... He just wanted to see a play he liked. That was all.
As expected of an Emanator of The Elation... just like his Aeon, Aha, who had once hidden on Akivili's Astral Express for half a year, gotten to know everyone, and then blown up half the train at a celebration banquet, killing countless Nameless.
And the reason was just for a laugh, and to say hello to Akivili... Sampo was truly a chip off the old, malicious block.
A great revulsion for Sampo grew in Ron's heart. The image on the screen continued to play:
"Human dignity... You say it was for their human dignity?"
Ron was so angry he almost laughed. He narrowed his eyes at Sampo, a hint of killing intent flickering within them.
"You just treat them as toys, as marionettes, enjoying the fun of pulling their strings, of driving them, of seeing a play through to its conclusion..."
"Oh, yeah. What about it?"
Sampo shrugged, indifferently cutting Ron off.
"Family, what's there to talk about? I did want to see this play. And now that it's aired, all the brothers and sisters at the tavern have given it rave reviews. You wouldn't believe how many people have cried over this tragedy."
He said with a grin, "Oh, by the way, did you know? You're the star everyone's chosen. For you, I even tricked away the original protagonist I had planned..."
He pointed upwards.
"Yep, right up there. That Astral Express is still circling around, trying to find Jarilo-VI. They were my original main characters. I even got rid of them for you. How about that? Don't you feel special?"
"...I'd rather you didn't."
Ron squeezed the words out from between his teeth.
But Sampo acted as if he couldn't hear the hostility in Ron's voice.
"Hah, whether you want it or not, you have my attention... Family, why are you so serious? Look at that long face! How bitter can you be!"
"You're not feeling guilty, are you? Thinking it's your fault for not protecting the empire?"
Sampo sighed, pretending to comfort him.
"Think about it. None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong. It's just that those foolish commoners couldn't control their desires, causing the empire to fall apart and civilization to be buried in the snow. Even the noblest hero cannot stand against such base humanity... tsk tsk, I'm moved to tears."
He took out a small handkerchief and dabbed at the non-existent tears in his eyes, then went back to his grinning expression.
"And there's no need to care so much... Don't you think this play is the most real thing in this whole illusory universe? This fleeting moment of 'Elation' is the proof of their existence."
"Cheer up, family. The play is ending. You've got another show to get to."
Sampo said with a grin, patting Ron on the shoulder, then casually preparing to leave...
But Ron grabbed his hand. It was like a clamp forged of copper and iron, holding Sampo fast.
"There's one more act to play, Sampo..."
"What, family, you want to add to the script? Tell me about it. If it's fun, I might just allow it..."
"A fight scene, Sampo."
"A fight? Sounds good. Who's fighting who? How?"
"The main characters are you and me. And the method... is a fight to the death."
The smile on Sampo's face faded.
His voice grew calm, even tinged with a slight coldness.
"Ah, family. I feel like I might have given you some delusions you shouldn't have..."
A powerful aura began to emanate from Sampo. Ron was instantly hit with immense pressure, like an ant facing a lion. The shadow cast by the sun was already countless times his size...
Before Sampo, Ron was as insignificant as an ant, completely powerless.
This was the power of an "Emanator"...
Sampo's grinning expression returned. He looked at Ron with a smile.
"See, family? Any more strange ideas? Let me tell you, while your idea to add to the script is nice, you have to think carefully about what you're adding..."
Sampo chattered on, while Ron felt as if a thousand mountains were pressing down on him, the immense pressure threatening to break his spine.
But a smile... a slightly crazed smile... curled his lips.
The gaze of the Merciful Apothecary King was, as always, fixed upon him. Ron felt the touch of this gaze from an Aeon and earnestly opened his mouth to pray—
He said softly, "Apothecary, I have a wish..."
"I want... yes, I want everything you can give me."
In that instant, a thousand light-years away, the Aeon spread Its arms. It stretched Its beautifully gnarled form, Its joints extending as if performing a cosmic dance.
Its hair, like the feathers of a magpie, white and gold, slowly bloomed among a thousand stars.
A graceful curve formed on Its lips. A multi-layered voice seemed to cross space and time. One of its thousand hands gently waved a vine, and a rain of a thousand lights surged towards Ron, along with the voice.
It said—
"Yes."