Zaza was dumbfounded.
He couldn't believe what had happened right before his eyes.
After all, three of the Killer Hounds—the very embodiment of terror—had been obliterated by
(This—this can't be real!? I can't believe it...)
Unable to accept reality, Zaza stood there in a daze.
From behind, a voice called out to him.
"Kuha-ha-ha-ha!
"Mmm, Master. That's all well and good, but my whole body is prickling and it hurts..."
Zaza spun around in alarm.
Standing before him was a brown-skinned, golden-haired man of striking beauty.
He was dressed casually, his posture perfectly natural, as though nothing about him had been artificially altered.
Needless to say, it was Veldora.
"Hey—you! Standing around in that outfit in the middle of this high-concentration radiation—have you lost your mind!?"
He couldn't help but shout, but Zaza could hardly be blamed for it. Veldora's appearance was simply too absurd.
Or rather, the real issue was— This surface world was riddled with danger.
The thin oxygen was bad enough, but the atmosphere itself was saturated with toxins.
The enemy had deployed nuclear weapons without a second thought, heedless of environmental destruction—because the environment was already so far gone there was no saving it.
This world was already hurtling toward rapid annihilation.
The organization formed by those who still possessed the will to resist—that was Zaza's resistance group, the Dawn of Light.
"Fuha-ha-ha-ha! Handsome, isn't it? This outfit was designed by that guy Rimuru, and I had
"Who cares about your outfit!? More importantly, 'high-concentration radiation' sounds really alarming. Am I imagining it, or does my body actually hurt? This is important so I'll say it again—my whole body is prickling and it hurts!!"
Only now did Zaza finally notice something was off about Veldora.
A second voice—sitting on Veldora's shoulder, insisting it was in pain. Ramiris. Zaza's eyes went wide.
"No, no, it's not about pain or any of that! And you—are you alright...? Wait, what the heck is that small thing!?"
As if ignoring Zaza's outburst entirely, Ramiris started making a fuss.
"Hey, Master! Now that I think about it, Rimuru said radiation is harmful to the human body, right!? Isn't that what he was talking about!?"
"It should be fine, right? He said low doses weren't a problem. Besides, if sunlight is perfectly safe, there shouldn't be any—"
"W-wait, wait! A freak of nature like you who can operate outside the atmosphere might be fine, but it's harmful to a delicate fairy like me! And that guy over there just said the concentration was high!!"
"There, there, stop your fussing. Fine, fine. I'll adjust the barrier a bit and neutralize this radiation, so just calm down..."
At Ramiris's complaints, Veldora grumbled excuses while reinforcing the barrier.
Whether fairies could actually be damaged by radiation was a fair question, but it seemed wisest not to press the matter.
With Veldora's barrier reinforced, Ramiris finally calmed down.
If she had truly been taking damage, the situation would already be hopeless. Looking at how she was now, she had probably just imagined the pain from anxiety alone.
"Think about it, Master... If you could do that, you should have done it from the start. I told you, didn't I? 'Protect me properly!' Maybe I should've left my protection to Beretta after all..."
"You're a persistent one. I'll do it properly next time, so stop worrying."
"Really? Are you sure? You'll actually do it!?"
Ignoring the dumbfounded Zaza, Veldora and Ramiris continued their argument.
In the end, it was settled only when Veldora finally gave in.
Throughout all of this, Zaza had been frozen in shock, unable to get a word in. His common sense simply couldn't keep up—he didn't even know where to begin questioning what he was seeing.
During this time, Beretta—the one who had instant-killed the Killer Hounds—spoke up.
"I intended to capture them intact, but I ended up destroying them. That's problematic. I initially attempted a magical suppression, but as expected, it couldn't be activated. With no Magicules present, magic activation appears to be out of the question. If magic is unusable, I'll need to fundamentally reassess my tactics, which makes it very difficult to exercise restraint..."
As she spoke, Beretta finished examining the destroyed Killer Hounds and rose to her feet.
Her words caused Veldora and Ramiris to stop bickering.
At the same time, Zaza realized that what had happened before him was no dream. He steadied himself and spoke.
"Hey. I'm not sure what's going on, but it looks like you saved me, so—thank you. Either way, this place is dangerous. I'd like to fall back to a safe zone for now—would you all come with me? I'd like to repay you, and there are things I'd like to ask..."
"Oh? Are there other living intelligent beings—humans—where you're headed?"
"Yeah. I'll need to take a detour to shake off pursuers, but our comrades are there."
Hearing Zaza's words, Veldora and Ramiris exchanged glances and nodded to each other.
If there were other humans besides Zaza, there would presumably be someone knowledgeable about this world's culture.
They decided to follow Zaza.
And Beretta, sensing the situation from long familiarity, simply followed without a word.
"Very well. We have questions of our own. Lead the way!"
Speaking on their behalf, Veldora gave his answer, and Zaza nodded.
Zaza hadn't fully trusted these two—three, counting Ramiris.
But even if the Empire had sent them to locate his hideout, sacrificing three precious Killer Hounds just to take them down seemed like far too much.
(As frustrating as it is, we're not worth three Killer Hounds to crush...)
Thinking it through calmly, that was the conclusion he reached.
And so, Veldora and the others were led by Zaza to the hideout of the resistance organization—the Dawn of Light.
◆◆◆ Along the way, Veldora and the others finished their introductions.
Zaza shot Veldora a skeptical look when he casually announced he had come from another world.
But he chose not to press the matter.
(They might have something to hide. After all, they possess weapons of that caliber...)
That was Zaza's conclusion.
Judging by Beretta's attitude, he could sense that she followed Veldora's lead.
And then there was Ramiris, who called herself a small artificial human.
But whether she truly was artificial raised questions.
To Zaza, this being called Ramiris seemed like a crystallization of impossibly advanced technology.
She was about thirty centimeters tall, sitting on Veldora's shoulder...
"Hey, what are you staring at? You've been gawking at me this whole time. Could it be you've fallen for me? Well, I can't blame you—I am adorable, after all. But sorry! I'm not that easy!"
Ramiris laughed heartily, clearly having misunderstood something entirely.
She glanced away from Zaza and began bragging to Veldora: "See that? Another otherworlder, totally smitten by my charm!"
(Then how does it work? I've never heard of mechanized soldiers that small. An automaton, perhaps? No, those smooth movements—she's definitely an artificial human. She was talking about pain earlier, so they've even replicated sensory organs. An artificial human at that size... No, wait—before that, I've never heard of an AI with that level of responsiveness. A brain transplant, maybe? Or... memory transfer—!?)
Zaza observed this from the sidelines, and ultimately concluded that Ramiris was not artificial intelligence.
A program sophisticated enough to think and react like a human was simply impossible.
Well, with quantum-computer-level processing power installed on an Empire battleship, it might theoretically be feasible—but not with computing hardware the size of Ramiris.
(My head's going to spin trying to figure this out. This is too surreal... Wait a moment?)
And then it struck Zaza.
(I've got it! If you used the rumored spatial compression technology to shrink and transplant a brain...)
This person called Ramiris had transplanted her own brain into a small artificial body—that was Zaza's theory.
That would resolve all the questions.
(I see now. So this Ramiris is the real VIP. Veldora is her bodyguard—a defensive mechanized soldier—and Beretta is the combat weapon...)
With so many unknowns, that was the conclusion Zaza settled on.
Of course, he was not merely overthinking—he was completely, spectacularly wrong.
Veldora and the others had told no lies from the start. They had clearly explained they came from another world.
But this world's science had never confirmed the existence of other dimensions, and Zaza had been convinced from the beginning that they were escapees from some research facility.
The result was a conclusion so far off the mark it was almost impressive.
Then again, did this misunderstanding actually cause any problems? Not really.
If anything, Ramiris got carried away and Veldora sulked.
◆◆◆ "And that's the situation. This is Ramiris, and these are Veldora and Beretta. They saved me from the Empire's Killer Hounds."
Zaza was explaining the circumstances to Sharma, a mid-ranking member of his organization.
She was a woman in her fifties with a gentle demeanor.
Standing behind Sharma was Rindou, a man in his thirties who looked somewhat neurotic.
Both Sharma and Rindou were ordinary humans, so their appearances matched their actual ages.
Although Zaza appeared to be in his twenties, as a mechanized soldier he was actually older than both of them.
But Zaza belonged to an operational unit, and Sharma, who managed administration, held the higher rank.
The location was one of the bases of the resistance organization—the Dawn of Light—reached through Zaza's guidance.
It was situated not far from the underground shelter they used as their headquarters.
They had navigated through a labyrinth of underground passages, moving carefully while watching for pursuers.
The fact that only two people were waiting for them was a precaution against Veldora's group.
Zaza had sent a brief report via transmission, but they understandably refused to trust anyone they hadn't seen with their own eyes.
The fact that three Killer Hounds had been defeated couldn't rule out the possibility of an Empire trap—this was Rindou's reasoning, and it carried weight.
Though Zaza trusted Veldora's group, the leadership couldn't extend that trust so easily.
In this arrangement, Veldora sat in a wooden chair opposite the three, leaning back with a cocky slouch.
Behind him stood Beretta, while Ramiris remained perched on his shoulder as always.
"I see. It's unfortunate about Jidda and the others, but it's fortunate that Zaza was able to return. And to the three of you—you have our gratitude. Thank you for saving our comrade Zaza."
Having heard Zaza's account, Sharma bowed deeply.
Rindou said nothing, silently continuing to observe Veldora and the others.
Veldora, unconcerned, laughed loudly.
"Kuha-ha-ha-ha! It was nothing. Now then, Sharma, was it? Are there more people where you live?"
"Yes, nearly a thousand... The proportion of warriors is relatively small, but—"
Sharma chose her words carefully, keeping certain details vague.
She couldn't tell what Veldora was after.
And behind her, Rindou narrowed his eyes without letting his guard down.
(--Hmm. So their target really is our base. Revealing our fighting strength would be dangerous...)
That was Rindou's assessment.
However.
"Only a thousand? That's rather sparse. A village? At that scale, I doubt there'd be any worthwhile food or impressive art worth seeing."
"Master, maybe this one's a bust after all. Looks like there's a war going on—they probably don't even have the foundation for cultivating culture."
"Hmm... That may well be correct. But let's confirm it, shall we?"
"Sure. We came all this way, so we might as well..."
Hearing Sharma's answer, Veldora and Ramiris exchanged those words.
Even Rindou couldn't conceal his confusion.
Their conversation diverged entirely from his expectations.
Their goal was seeking out new entertainment—they had no interest in this world's military strength. Of course, Rindou had no way of knowing that, so he could only grow more baffled.
"Oh, right, right—I was still in the middle of thanking you. We can't offer much, but I've prepared a simple meal. I'll bring it out now."
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Zaza cheerfully smoothed things over.
This was one of their bases, but it had enough reserves to sustain a handful of people for several weeks.
Food was precious in this era, but with the objective of monitoring the Imperial military, such provisions were a necessity.
From those precious reserves, Zaza offered a meal to Veldora and the others.
It was his way of showing gratitude.
Zaza prepared the food himself and carefully laid it out before them.
However— "I have no need for meals. If you would, Lady Ramiris, please partake."
"Oh, really? Don't mind if I do!"
"Hmm. Beretta really does dote on Ramiris, doesn't she? Well, fine..."
Beretta—who had no need for food, not that she couldn't eat—offered hers to Ramiris.
Veldora watched with envy, but the problem came after.
"Right then, let's dig in! ...What is this? It's like clay—completely tasteless! And this water is just mud!?"
"...Disgusting. What are these tablets?"
"Hey, hey! What is the meaning of this!? Is this some kind of harassment against us!?"
"Indeed! Even the magnanimous me finds this treatment unforgivable!!"
What was served as a meal was, by Veldora's standards, incomprehensibly low quality.
It wasn't poison.
In terms of energy value, it was actually well-balanced and nutritious.
But it was nothing you'd serve to guests as a gesture of thanks.
They say grudges over food are fearsome, and Veldora and Ramiris were both gourmands at heart.
Being served this utterly unpalatable fare sent them into a rage.
It was Zaza who panicked.
"Hey, hey, wait a second! These are precious 'water,' 'energy tablets,' and 'solid food rations'! What kind of extravagant nonsense are you two spouting about 'taste'!?"
Zaza was genuinely shocked and shot back at them.
In a world starved of resources, even a single meal was invaluable.
The very reason they raided Imperial territory was to seize food production plants and steal rations for their comrades.
Under these circumstances, taste was a luxury they couldn't afford.
Surviving with a full stomach was already fortunate enough.
As a mechanized soldier, Zaza could function for a full day on a single cup of water and one energy tablet.
But for most residents, that wasn't an option—they needed the three-part set of "water, energy tablets, and solid food rations" for each of three meals just to stay alive.
The same applied even to artificial humans with cultivated enhanced cells.
Unless their bodies were largely mechanized like Zaza's, they still had to consume precious food resources.
Faced with Zaza's intensity, even Veldora and Ramiris had to concede this wasn't some joke or act of hostility.
"Ramiris, it seems that for these people, this may truly be a precious meal..."
"That's quite a shock, Master... He's not lying, is he?"
Veldora and Ramiris exchanged stunned looks.
At that moment, Sharma spoke gently.
"Calm down, Zaza. It seems the food didn't agree with our guests. But this is the best we have to offer. Also... if you'll pardon the question, may I ask something?"
She spoke gently, yet without lowering her guard.
Sharma looked Veldora and the others straight in the eye.
"Mm. Ask anything."
At Veldora's reply, Sharma posed her question.
"Then just one. Forgive the indelicacy, but—just now, you placed that tablet directly in your mouth as it was. Surely it's not that you don't know the proper way to eat it? I realize this may be rude, but could you answer me?"
The question left even Veldora and Ramiris confused.
"Eat? What are you talking about?"
"Yeah, I'm not sure either. Is there something wrong with just putting it in your mouth?"
That was all the reaction they could muster.
Afterward, Sharma demonstrated the proper way to eat.
The tablets could be swallowed as-is, but they were originally meant to be mixed into the solid food rations.
By kneading a tablet into the clay-like solid food, the tablet would dissolve and add flavor.
"This time, we happened to have premium tablets with five different flavors. Each time you break a piece off, the flavor changes."
As she explained, Sharma demonstrated by actually eating it.
"Ohh!" Impressed, Veldora and Ramiris tried it themselves.
Since Veldora had already swallowed his tablet, they mixed Ramiris's tablet into Veldora's solid food ration and shared it between them.
The result.
"Huh? Not bad, actually!"
"Ho ho, quite interesting. It's sending false information to the tongue to create the illusion of flavor, isn't it? This could be a fun novelty item to research."
They were thrilled by this novel culinary experience.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Mm. Quite flavorful. By the way—would mixing it with water change the taste at all?"
Veldora's curiosity was boundless.
That muddy water—if he mixed this in, it might become drinkable, he thought.
But the answer to that question was disappointing.
"This tablet doesn't dissolve well in water."
"Ah. If you tried biting into it earlier, you'd understand—it's absolutely foul on its own. That's why mechanized soldiers like us, who don't need solid food, just swallow it with water. You could also disable your sense of taste, but that would be too lonely."
Sharma denied it, and Zaza helpfully explained.
Even as mechanized soldiers, their sense of taste remained.
Some people chose to have that function removed, but Zaza was not among them.
Zaza produced a Taste Orb—a luxury item of considerable value—and held it up.
"This thing emits low-frequency waves that stimulate the tongue. When the tongue detects them, it sends specific electrical signals to the brain. It can't satisfy hunger, but it's an essential item for maintaining one's humanity."
At Zaza's explanation, Veldora and Ramiris's eyes lit up with interest.
"Master, Master!"
"There's no rush, Ramiris. I understand your excitement over this unexpected discovery, but calm yourself."
Veldora and Ramiris were animated with excitement.
Beretta stood quietly behind them, composed as ever.
Watching the three of them, Sharma fell into contemplation.
(--What peculiar people. Did they really not know? But even if they're lying, what could their purpose be? I can't understand it at all...)
In all of Sharma's fifty years of life, she had never eaten anything beyond this food set.
It had perfect nutritional balance, prevented obesity and wasting, and reduced the likelihood of illness—a truly all-purpose food.
So her whimsical curiosity—rather uncharacteristic for her—had been piqued by their words.
When everyone had quieted down, Sharma posed a question softly.
"But I must say, I'm curious. If you don't know how to eat this food set, what do you normally eat?"
Even if their conversation was a lie, how would they respond? What kind of excuse would they come up with? Sharma wondered.
But the answer far exceeded anything she could have imagined.
Sharma's idle question became an unexpected bomb that froze the entire room.
"Oh, you know—cookies, cakes, things like that! Eating fruit as-is is good too, but I really love the tarts that Shuna makes!"
"Ramiris, those are snacks. If we're talking about proper meals, I'm partial to tempura!"
"Tempura's delicious! Things like that—yakiniku and hamburgers too—I love all of it!!"
In response to Sharma's question, Veldora and Ramiris eagerly answered, competing to speak first.
But to Sharma and the others, these words were nothing more than an incomprehensible string of sounds.
Dishes that did not exist in this world—or, more precisely, had existed three generations ago.
Without knowing these dishes existed, they had no way of converting Ramiris's descriptions into any meaningful image.
Only Zaza, the eldest among them, managed to grasp the meaning of the word "cookie" Ramiris had dropped.
He grasped it all too well.
(Cookies, you say? Come to think of it, before the war started... I thought those things were all gone from the world. But if you search hard enough, could some still exist? No, no—if any remained, it'd be in the Empire's central cities... In that case, did these people come from there—?)
Zaza wrestled with these questions.
But regardless of Zaza's internal turmoil, Ramiris did something outrageous.
"That's it! I actually came prepared for something like this—!!"
With that cry, Ramiris cast magic toward the cup sitting on the table.
The cup—roughly half her height—lifted into the air, enveloped by a sphere of water that materialized from nowhere and rinsed it clean.
"Mm-hmm. Fairy magic may be weak, but this is well within my limits."
Nodding with satisfaction, she pulled a bottle from her bosom—a bottle roughly the same height as herself.
It was a magic bottle.
Inside, pre-brewed black tea had been preserved, still warm.
"Ramiris, even I would prefer that tea over this muddy water."
"Okay! How about you two? Want some?"
Sharma and the others were stunned by what had unfolded before them.
"Huh? What?"
"Wait—what just happened!? Our precious water—no, that's not the—!"
"A trick? An illusion? No way..."
Each of them reacted differently, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.
"Okay! You guys have some too, then!"
Taking their silence as agreement, Ramiris didn't wait for a response and washed their dishes as well.
The cups and plates were drawn into the sphere of water that appeared in midair.
A few seconds later, sparkling clean empty cups and plates were set neatly on the table.
Ignoring the dumbfounded onlookers, Ramiris busily pulled something else from her pouch and laid it out.
"Here you go! Snacks I secretly brought along!"
Pound cake and cookies.
They were served onto each person's plate.
And into the cups went fragrant, steaming black tea.
"Well then, let's eat!"
With that, she began devouring her portion—which was enormous by her standards—with gusto.
Veldora happily plucked up a cookie and stuffed it into his mouth.
He nodded with satisfaction.
"Mm. Now this is more like it. Go on, don't be shy—eat up!"
With that, he urged the still-stunned Sharma and the others to partake.
Only then, bewildered by the surreal situation before them, did Sharma and the others finally move.
Zaza was the first.
He averted his eyes from the plates bearing pound cake and cookies, muttering "I don't need to eat..." as he reached for the black tea instead.
He took a sip and closed his eyes.
(Real, huh... How nostalgic. But if that's the case, then...)
Lost in that sentiment, he remembered something and spoke up.
"Sharma, Rindou—I have a warning. If you eat this, you'd best prepare yourselves."
"Poison...?"
Rindou tensed warily.
But Sharma was different.
"Oh... So they really were real after all, Zaza..."
At Zaza's words, she let out a murmur as though something had finally clicked.
She continued.
"But we have an obligation to eat this. I was the one who asked what these people normally eat—I'll take responsibility for that—"
With those words, as if pushing past a moment's hesitation, Sharma reached for a cookie and brought it to her lips.
And she bit into it.
A depth of flavor—vast and endless—unfurled across her tongue. An unknown, unprecedented taste.
Not the synthetic imitation of flavor, nor the cold, inorganic electrical signals of an artificial simulation.
The real thing.
This was what truly satisfied one of humanity's three greatest desires.
Not merely nutrition, not just caloric intake—but a meal that nourished the heart.
For the first time in her life, Sharma understood this truth.
And Rindou as well...
"I can't very well leave it all to you, Sharma. I shall assess the authenticity for myself as well."
With a grand gesture that drew amused looks from Veldora and Ramiris, Rindou tore off a piece of pound cake and placed it in his mouth.
And then— (--This is impossible!? This—this is what real flavor tastes like—!!)
He was struck with overwhelming shock.
It felt as though everything he had ever believed was being shattered.
At first, Rindou's heart had been filled with suspicion toward Veldora and the others.
He had suspected they were Imperial spies sent to find their hideout.
But something about the situation felt off.
Then, as his suspicion grew, the meal offered as a sincere token of gratitude had been mocked and ridiculed.
His heart had been consumed by anger over that.
He had suppressed that anger and watched calmly—because the situation demanded level-headed judgment. And the result was the food provided by this small girl called Ramiris.
Suspicion. Anger. Shock.
Rindou's heart was rocked violently, his mind thrown into turmoil.
Where had that magic bottle and those sweets come from? What was the phenomenon he had just witnessed—Ramiris's magic?
Gathering moisture from the atmosphere should have required enormous electrical power... Did the small artificial human called Ramiris truly possess that kind of capability?
What principle made it work?
And beyond that—with that kind of technology, could they produce far larger quantities of water?
If so, couldn't the severe water shortage they faced be solved...?
His questions were endless.
Some even bordered on desperate hope.
Suppressing those swirling thoughts, those questions that tormented his mind, Rindou followed Sharma's lead and placed the pound cake in his mouth— And every last question was blown away.
The humiliation of having their precious water dismissed as muddy filth—even that was understandable now, in the face of this black tea.
Damn it all. This—this is what real food is.
He hadn't known.
He never should have known.
Now that he had, he would have to endure counterfeit meals for the rest of his life, forever falling short of this memory.
—No, he realized, it was already too late for that.
(Ah, so Zaza... you knew this better than anyone...)
Rindou finally understood the meaning of Zaza's earlier warning.
Zaza—the old-model mechanized soldier—had been enduring this suffering for over a hundred years.
He had known, but he had never been able to truly empathize with that pain.
And now, Rindou would have to join those ranks himself.
"Zaza, there's one thing I'd like to ask, if you don't mind?"
"Sure. What is it, Rindou?"
Zaza answered with an air of sympathy.
The question was exactly as Zaza had anticipated— "Back in the old days... anyone could eat wonderful things like this?"
"Just like you thought."
"Yeah. My daughter used to bake cookies, you know. They were delicious—really. They looked rough, with some char here and there, and the shapes weren't even... But it wasn't about that. There was a warmth to them..."
Rindou nodded, thinking.
The food before his eyes made Zaza's words more convincing than anything.
Hearing that Zaza had a daughter was news to him, but mentioning it further would be tasteless.
The fact that Zaza had never spoken of her until now meant she had probably been lost in the war too— And Rindou uttered a murmur that was half complaint, half lament.
"Why did this have to be a war..."
Not just Rindou, who was only in his thirties—for Sharma, in her fifties, the scars of war had forced them into this life.
Wasn't the responsibility something their parents' generation—or even earlier generations—should have borne?
He understood it was a pointless complaint, but he couldn't help himself.
A world where you had to raid Imperial food production plants and steal resources just to survive.
Purifying contaminated water just enough to secure the bare minimum.
No one was permitted luxury. Everyone had cooperated desperately to survive.
They could do this only because they had never known luxury.
Now that they had tasted it, they couldn't help but resent the Great War—the very cause of their suffering.
"I'm sorry... It's because we were inadequate..."
"No, I should apologize. I seem to have gotten rather carried away myself—"
Rindou accepted Zaza's apology.
It wasn't Zaza's fault at all, but he judged it was the natural thing to do.
In the heavy atmosphere that followed.
"Um, Master..."
"What is it, Ramiris?"
"I think I messed up?"
"Y-yes. That's precisely why I tried to stop you!"
"You didn't try to stop me at all! You were happily munching on cake!"
"Th-that's not—I was not... Well, let's put that aside..."
"That's the most important part! ...Oh well, I guess..."
The two of them, realizing they had clearly caused a mess, began whispering urgently, trying to figure out how to fix things without being overheard.
"If they were that happy, should we maybe give them more?" Ramiris suggested, but it was Beretta who shut it down.
"Lady Ramiris, I would strongly advise against that. Lord Rimuru would be angry."
"Why?"
"Because it's irresponsible. His principle was always 'exercise caution in interactions with other worlds,' and at this point we've already become involved beyond what's appropriate. If we deepen this relationship further, we'll have to take responsibility for these people going forward. We don't even understand the justice of this world—taking sides would be unconscionable, in my view."
Don't give them false hope if you have no intention of looking after them in the long run—that was Beretta's warning.
If it were just Ramiris, preparing a thousand people's worth of food would be easy.
But it wouldn't last.
Providing free support with no intention of seeing it through to the end was the act of a fiend.
As a former demon, Beretta understood better than anyone the agony of being lifted to euphoria only to be cast down into despair.
"...You're right. I get it. I'll hold back from here on out."
"That's probably for the best. And at the very least, before we go taking sides in this world, we should learn more about what's really going on."
At Beretta's counsel, Veldora and Ramiris exchanged looks and nodded.
It might already be too late, but they finally understood that giving these people further reason for resentment would only make things worse.
After that, the two of them consulted on their future policy via Thought Communication, with Beretta's advice taken into account.