Chapter 94: Kal'tsit Still Overestimated Your Moral Standards

(This chapter was censored because I threw in some unofficial lore; it was too wild and triggered the censors, so I’ve moved it to the next chapter.)

This time I really didn’t make it up… You felt like crying but had no tears.

“College students have to donate blood every now and then. I saw two operators in critical condition and drew some of my own blood to save them. Is that really so out of character for me?”

Clearly, Kal’tsit felt it was entirely out of character. After a heavy, suffocating silence, she finally spoke. Her tone was complex, weighed down by years of unspoken history.

“Doctor, I don’t know what fragments you have remembered, but at least for now, your behavior is completely different from the past. Is this truly your own intent? Even if I entirely disagree with your past methods, I do not wish for you to begin a cycle of self-judgment based on vague memories, half-understanding a past you cannot fully see.”

‘Self-judgment?! Me?’

You stared at her, utterly incredulous. Did Kal’tsit actually harbor such high expectations of your moral compass? Did she genuinely believe you would feel guilty about extracting a little blood?

“I haven’t even witnessed the full picture of the past myself, so I wouldn’t blame someone who has lost their memory. I thought you wouldn’t either… at least for now, your body is vital to this land.” Kal’tsit’s gaze dropped slightly, her voice softening just a fraction. “You cannot save everyone. This method will only slowly drag you down and nail you to the gallows of morality.”

Her feline ears twitched in visible unease. She stood up, poured a cup of hot tea, and quietly sat back down beside you.

You could easily tell that she was awkwardly attempting to comfort you, even though the entire premise of her comfort was completely off the mark.

“You’re actually worried about my psychological well-being? I thought your first reaction would be to interrogate me about why I remembered something but kept it a secret.” You let out a dry, dumbfounded laugh. “So, in your heart, I actually possess something resembling a conscience?”

Kal’tsit froze, her hand hovering over the teacup.

You realized you had to solemnly clarify a very basic fact. “My choice to save them was entirely because the physical cost is negligible to me. Kal’tsit, perhaps this disappoints you…”

You leaned forward, letting the temperature in the room drop as you slipped effortlessly into your cold, mastermind persona.

“Even if I forget everything, I will unconditionally trust my own judgment. No matter how ruthless or extreme my past decisions were, compared to eyes that can only see the fleeting present, I trust far more in the cold rationality that carried me across time and space.”

Let the record show: you are a transmigrator! A genre-savvy gamer! If your past self dared to share that little secret with the natives of Terra, you wouldn’t even need Kal’tsit to take you out—you would handle the cleanup yourself just to avoid the cringe!

Habitually falling back on threats instead of actual explanations, you spoke with dark, measured meaning. “Kal’tsit, did he tell you? I am exactly the same as him in this regard. I don’t need forgiveness, and I certainly don’t need pity. If you’re worried about my betrayal, you had better shove me back into that Sarcophagus right now.”

You let the silence stretch for a beat. “After all, I still haven’t remembered what that grand plan—the one that scares you into having nightmares every single day—actually requires of me. Nor do I have any compelling reason to stay in this era by any means necessary. If you drag this out any longer, who knows what might happen.”

Kal’tsit’s breath hitched. You realized, with a sudden pang of clarity, that this was the very first time you had bared your fangs so bluntly in front of her.

“Are you going to make a move on me?”

It was such a vulnerable string of words, yet coming from your mouth, delivered with that flat, deadpan stare, it sounded like a naked threat. Resist me or obey me—he didn’t need concern, much less understanding. Despite having pitifully forgotten everything, he didn’t even bother to lower his head. He just sat there, naturally waiting for her to show weakness, whether it manifested as anger or fear.

In just a few short sentences, the warm, awkward atmosphere shattered into jagged ice.

Even though you understood perfectly well what she was trying to say, you deliberately escalated the conflict to this breaking point. Why? Because you were resisting her approach. You were simply terrified of letting her get too close.

Was it because she had personally stuffed you back into the Sarcophagus all those years ago? When she took that action, she must have prepared herself for this exact outcome, hadn’t she? They had long since become strangers.

Kal’tsit suddenly realized the true depth of the rift between them. It wasn’t a clash of personalities, and it wasn’t a simple conflict of interest. It was the vastly different choices made on a scale that held the crushing weight of two entire civilizations. Personalities can be reconciled, and conflicts can be resolved, but the lives of two civilizations cannot simply be burned to ashes and forgotten.

She fell into a brief, deep moment of confusion. And then, you suddenly realized something terrifying. She was purely sad. She was sad because of your words, not vigilant.

You were indeed intentionally using this edgy persona to distance yourself from her, to block her from probing into your past. In a world plagued by Demons, mere cognition could potentially establish a connection between two entirely different dimensions. Your original homeland could not be tainted by even a shred of such a possibility.

But you didn’t intend to make her this sad! The old cat didn’t even have the heart to hiss anymore; her emerald eyes were dimming, and she looked like she was actually about to cry!

You realized the truth in an instant: the silly girl was still agonizing over the impossible choice between those two civilizations!

“Ahem… so, how about you let go of my hand first, and we change positions? Maybe it’s just the angle. Let’s find a sunnier place to chat. Also, the design of this gray-white room is really ugly.”

Seeing the problem is one thing, but possessing the emotional maturity to face it honestly is entirely another. The difficulty gap between casually saying ‘What a beautiful Feline, I like her so much’and solemnly expressing’Kal’tsit, I’m sorry, I actually really care about you’ was wider than the ocean.

You cut yourself some slack. You had always viewed Kal’tsit as a rebellious teenage daughter anyway! The most straightforward instance of emotional bonding for a child from a traditional household was when a primary school teacher assigned homework to wash your father’s feet, and your dad just posed for a photo, dipped his toes in the basin, and awkwardly walked away.

Like father, like son. At the exact moment when you needed to speak from the heart, you shamefully chickened out. You evaded the topic entirely, carefully trying to break free from Kal’tsit’s grip to adjust your sitting posture.

Putting the actual heavy lore issues aside, Kal’tsit, is the way you’re pinning my hand to the table a bit too ambiguous? Ambiguous or not, the main issue was that she was pressing directly on a nerve in your wrist, making your entire arm feel numb.

Kal’tsit had absolutely no intention of letting go. She continued to look at you expressionlessly. Her calm gaze was completely different from the deep sadness you had just sensed; this was the terrifying composure cultivated by long-lived races over vast, sweeping periods of time.

“This was the decor of your office back then.”

With your mind completely occupied by how traditional parents apologize indirectly, you were stunned for a full second before realizing she was responding to your earlier complaint about the room’s aesthetic.

‘How could this possibly be my decor? Wouldn’t it be a bit too hellish to have the little white flowers Theresa grew sitting right here in my office?’

If your previous office really had those flowers, you’d eat—you’d eat a whole box of originium chocolates. Talking about it brings bad luck. Forget it.

Facing a situation far more awkward than you were prepared for, Kal’tsit proved she was entirely different from your avoidance-prone self. She was still stubbornly trying to bridge the massive gap between you. She only slightly raised her fingers, loosening her iron grip on your left hand just enough to restore your blood flow.

“Doctor, as a creation of the previous civilization, yet standing firmly on the side of the current one… are you still holding a grudge against my choice back then?”

“No, no, no, absolutely not!” You shook your head in genuine shock.

She actually asked it. She was actually brave enough to ask the core question directly? Is this still the same Kal’tsit who constantly speaks in cryptic riddles and three-hour monologues?

Perhaps your shock was a bit too obvious. Kal’tsit saw right through your wide-eyed stare. “Is this what you once promised to… Amiya? You will prevaricate, you will deceive, but you will never remain silent. As long as she truly speaks her mind, you will definitely provide an answer.”

Kal’tsit leaned in slightly. “Then can I?”

Relying on your newly functioning, transmigrated brain, you actually had the leisure to empathize with your past self in this high-pressure situation. You could easily tell that the old Doctor was probably at his wit’s end from being kept in this emotional pressure cooker all the time.

‘Can’t we just happily play war criminal in Terra? Why is everyone so hyper-focused on my lonely soul? You guys should be focusing on the exoskeleton technology I’m wearing, the neutron annihilation bombs I can craft, the miniature Colossus, and the Aether-Phase Engine floating right above my head!’

“Doctor… Doctor?”

Kal’tsit’s emerald eyes stared unblinkingly at the young man she had pinned to the table. Faint cyan veins were vaguely visible beneath his overly pale skin. His eyes were half-closed, and his already light, lead-colored pupils were shrouded in the deep shadows cast by his eyelashes. She couldn’t even tell where he was looking. It could be her, it could be the corner of the wooden table, or it could be some distant future she couldn’t possibly see.

That was Amiya’s privilege, and Kal’tsit hadn’t received any response.

In truth, if he had struggled just a little bit harder, he would have discovered that Kal’tsit hadn’t been willing to use any real force to hold his wrist; he could have broken free at any time. But he didn’t resist at all. Whenever the heavy past was involved, he would just stay perfectly silent, sealing himself away like a clam snapping its shell shut.

What was even more pathetic was that she couldn’t even determine if his utter indifference was born of arrogance, or of absolute trust.

“…Then let us end today’s conversation here. At least, where I can see, do not continue using that extreme treatment method. Whether you care about your own life or not, Rhodes Island does not need this kind of unscalable, primitive, and bloody sacrifice.”

Just as you expected, it was Kal’tsit who finally backed down.

But watching her let go just like that, watching her quickly compose her fractured emotions and force herself to maintain her cold dignity as she turned to leave, you suddenly felt a strange, stifling tightness in your chest.

Just as Kal’tsit was about to step through the door, she suddenly heard a soft, quiet reply that almost sounded like a hallucination.

“Don’t worry. I’ve found the path to the Happy Ending.”

Kal’tsit turned around abruptly, her pupils shaking violently.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ship, out on the open deck.

“Bro! Bro, can you please let me down?!”

Elysium struggled wildly, twisting his body and swaying back and forth high up on the bridge. He looked down, desperately begging Thorns, who was calmly standing below recording the entire spectacle on his terminal.

“Please, man, it’s really urgent! Kal’tsit seems to be threatening the Doctor in there; we have to rush over and support him immediately!”

“He explicitly told me to take care of things when he left.” Thorns didn’t even look up from his screen.

Thorns narrowed his dark eyes. “The Doctor told you that himself?”

Elysium shouted while hanging completely upside down, his face turning red from the blood rush. “Of course he did! Please, bro! He really needs our help right now!”

Thorns remained cold and utterly ruthless. “Clearly, going there right now would be highly counterproductive. It would only make Kal’tsit infinitely angrier to see you running around disobediently, and it would be entirely meaningless.”

“Oh…” The signature lock of red hair on Elysium’s head drooped listlessly toward the deck.

“Besides, do you honestly think the Doctor can’t see the danger that you can?” Thorns patiently reasoned, his tone perfectly flat. “You don’t need to do anything. The Doctor will be perfectly fine.”

After hearing this flawless logic, Elysium gave a sulky “Oh” and completely gave up on the heroic rescue idea.

“You keep hanging there. I’m going back to my quarters to rest.” Thorns waved his hand dismissively, turned around, and walked away without a single ounce of hesitation, leaving Elysium all alone swaying in the wind.

The handsome Liberi swung back and forth, incredibly bored, feeling like something was deeply wrong with this situation but entirely unable to put his finger on what it was.

A full half-hour later, someone else finally strolled onto the deck. It was Frostleaf. She stretched lazily in the warm sunlight, spotted Elysium dangling from the bridge like a trapped caterpillar, and politely greeted him.

“Hello.”

Elysium was almost bored out of his mind. He vigorously twisted his body, which was tightly wrapped into a cocoon by the heavy ropes. “Don’t go! Don’t go, little lady! Chat with me for a while! Thorns went to rest, and there’s absolutely no one to talk to me!”

Frostleaf stopped and frowned slightly. “When did Thorns go to rest?”

Elysium suddenly felt a massive sense of foreboding wash over him. “Just now? Didn’t he say he was going to his room to rest?”

Frostleaf shook her head, looking up at him with a mixture of deep pity and absolute sincerity. “I just passed him in the hallway. He was sprinting at top speed while muttering something about ‘this is the absolute best moment to rush in and demonstrate my unwavering loyalty.’ It looked like he was heading straight toward the Medical Department office.”

Elysium:…

Elysium:!!!

Frostleaf stared, utterly dumbfounded, as the slightly wriggling cocoon above her suddenly transformed into a violently thrashing hazard, erupting with intense, desperate screams.

“You [Iberian profanity] Thorns! Let me down! Hurry up and let me down right now—”

Frostleaf calmly checked her terminal, read a new message, and shrugged helplessly. “Sorry. Kal’tsit won’t allow it.”

“You [Iberian profanity] sea urchin!!!”

“It sounds like someone is calling your name?” You suddenly turned your head toward the door. It seemed like a very familiar, highly distressed voice had just echoed down the corridor.

Thorns calmly pulled out a pair of Yanese clappers from his pocket and started rhythmically tapping them together. “Perhaps it is simply this new instrument I’ve been researching lately. The acoustics are quite interesting.”

“You— clack-clack —Thorns— clack!”

The crisp, sharp sound of the wooden clappers completely drowned out the distant screaming you had heard in a daze. Your curiosity was piqued, and you reached out, taking the clappers directly from his hand.

“Ah, right. Thanks for coming in to help me share the heat and ignoring Kal’tsit’s lingering aura of death. How did you even find me?”

“I’ve been deeply concerned about you ever since you returned to the ship, Doctor, but I was unfortunately held up by some trivial matters.” Thorns smoothly pushed up the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

You certainly hadn’t spent your time in Kazimierz for nothing; you had bought who knows how much Originium, and basically all the notable operators on the island had received brand new outfits!

“Then, Doctor… would it be convenient for you to guide my latest experiment? Recently, my potion research seems to have hit a rather frustrating bottleneck…”

“Ah? I’m really not very good at pharmacology—”

“You still haven’t put my expensive laboratory equipment back in its proper place from the last time you borrowed it.”

“—But guiding you is definitely well within my capabilities!” you corrected instantly, sweating slightly.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Thorns revealed a somewhat reserved, highly calculated smile, making you secretly sigh in relief. The thoughtful little sea urchin is still the absolute best, completely unlike that unreliable Elysium. Sigh, you went through all that trouble to set things up for a dramatic rescue, and that bird brain didn’t even show up!

“Then, Doctor… can I officially apply to be your assistant tomorrow?”

“Ah? Let me check the schedule… logically, it should be Elysium’s turn next… Never mind, it’s fine. You come tomorrow!”

“Thank you for your generous favoritism, Doctor.”

Thorns casually shook the two bottles of freshly brewed, highly volatile potions he had just made under your ‘guidance’, revealing an honest, simple, and entirely victorious sea urchin smile.

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent! 🙇‍♂️):

Massive thanks for reading and supporting the operation!]