Chapter 206 This Confession Doesn't Seem Human!

It wasn’t done.

No, wait—this was a mere counterfeit, a shell without substance. It lacked the plasteel, none of the power armor’s advanced functions, and it was scaled down significantly.

After his initial excitement, Shinji immediately saw through the facade of the power armor. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to have the logistics department replicate a replica, but that would be meaningless, which is why he never did.

However, as he looked at the scrap materials piled up around the room and the design blueprints covering the walls, he instantly understood.

“Rei, did you make this?”

“Mm. It took a lot of effort.”

Shinji stepped forward, under Rei’s nervous gaze, and touched the cold, thin outer shell. The slight disappointment he felt just a moment ago vanished into thin air.

Having the logistics team replicate it would have been meaningless, but because Rei had made it by hand, it was different. Practicality became insignificant; what mattered was the intent. Looking at the lifelike laurel wreath, he could only imagine how much sweat went into carving it out.

“So you’ve been secretly working on this all these days? When did you start?”

“Before the New Year’s festival. Remember when Asuka teased you about wearing the same clothes every day?”

Shinji nodded slightly. Of course, he remembered. Asuka had said that one should wear something with a sense of occasion for the festival, and he had simply scribbled out a draft without a second thought.

“So you’ve kept it in mind the whole time.” Shinji felt his heart inexplicably accelerate.

This sentiment was hard to express in words. On a special day, gifting someone something they love most—even a steel warrior forged from plasteel would be deeply moved.

He had heard Kensuke say that people give various gifts to those they like—chocolates, flowers, game consoles. But whether expensive or cheap, they are things the other person likes. While the idea of gifting armor didn’t seem like something an Earthling would come up with, how to put it…

I like it. I like it immensely.

“I know that even though you clearly love it, you are too concerned with its practical utility to make it yourself. Even if it’s just a decoration, I had to be the one to give it to you.” Rei walked

quietly to his side, took hold of Shinji’s sturdy forearm, her eyes shimmering. She had forgotten the script Dr. Ritsuko had given her and simply spoke from the heart:

“Today is my first birthday. It is the most special day since I was born. Because of you, I have this opportunity, so I have a wish— I have heard many, many stories from you. Every time I listen to these stories, your eyes shine. Surely, those are your most glorious moments.”

“That is inevitable. That is a glory I can never erase.” Shinji nodded without hesitation. Yes, the 40K universe is as cruel as hell, but he had crawled through that hell, slaughtered countless enemies, and won countless victories—it was as sacred as the medals of a veteran.

“So this gift is my repayment.” Rei’s red eyes were gentle as water, yet her voice was as firm as steel:

“I want to see you in your most majestic, sacred, and loyal state, and realize my second wish— From now on, can you share this glory with me?”

She said it. She finally said it. Wait, does this count as a confession? Why is it different from the study materials? Forget it, those study materials are all garbage; Ikari-kun doesn’t follow the “routine” at all.

Rei was trembling all over with nervousness. She didn’t know if what she said was right, or if she would be rejected, but she knew clearly that if the class representative and the others heard this confession, they would probably be so angry they’d faint on the spot.

They had heard about “after-school gym” scenes, where shy girls hold love letters and say, “Can I go out with you?” They had also heard about straightforward girls slamming their hands on the desk and saying, “I like you, let’s be together.”

But they had absolutely never heard of a girl gifting a boy armor and talking about “sharing glory.”

Shinji stood straight, his expression unchanged. He had long known Rei’s heart.

Astartes are not without emotion. Shinji, after achieving a degree of self-Instrumentality, could be considered the king of emotions among Astartes. He just couldn’t understand why these people spent all day playing these mind games, why they insisted on forcing him to balance them, or the mental block about returning to service. However, he had taken the advice of Asuka and Fuyutsuki and had already made corrections.

Never avoid something because of a possibility. Since Instrumentality is inevitable, move straight forward, and make the final choice at the end.

A new course of action had been set; Shinji wouldn’t be conflicted like an incompetent teenager, so Rei’s timing for the confession was also quite clever.

These problems were solved; the only thing he didn’t quite understand was why this group of people always turned simple questions into complex ones.

[I like you, I like you too.]

Isn’t that obvious? If there were no feelings, why would I be acting like their dad and cooking for them all day?

[Let’s date and be together.]

Extremely stupid. We live under the same roof every day; what more “dating” is needed?

[Let’s mint coins together.]

That’s not a problem. His current body no longer had surgical suppression and possessed powerful functions—but the problem was that no one had ever invited him.

Just at this moment, Rei had said the thing that best fit Shinji’s worldview and was the easiest for him to understand.

‘Share my glory?’ Only the most intimate people are qualified to share this glory. So, does Rei count?

Shinji closed his eyes, making Rei’s heart leap into her throat. After a few seconds, just as the light in her eyes was about to fade, she finally heard the answer.

The sturdy youth knelt on one knee and performed a chest-thumping salute.

“It would be my honor, my lady.”

–

–

–

“Ha? Shinji is a man worthy of being your father? How shameful, you should be corrected!”

At the same time, while Rei was gathering all the favorable conditions, in a conference room in the Research Department, Rei sat on a swivel chair like a queen, staring at the criminals not far away with disdain.

Misato Katsuragi was standing nearby, her eyes fixed on Ritsuko Akagi with murderous intent while obediently listening to the lecture. This kind of “the student becomes the teacher” scenario was contagious—she was being scolded by kids again.

But what could she do? She was the one who was exposed. Whenever Asuka said things like, “I trusted you so much,” or “You’re practically committing a crime,” Misato couldn’t hold her head up.

“I’m in the wrong this time, but I absolutely won’t get in your way.”

“You want to get in my way? Misato, I didn’t know you were so insidious, using me to gather intelligence.”

“Uh, you were the one who asked me to be a consultant.”

“Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”

‘Damn it.’ Can I say that out loud? It’s embarrassing enough as it is.

Misato couldn’t argue. It was indeed a bit shameful; she had started as a guardian and ended up acting like a daughter, with a father complex on top of it. How could she present herself as a mature adult from now on?

“But I won’t give up. You aren’t thinking of monopolizing Shinji-kun, are you?” She went all out, laying her cards on the table.

“You!” Asuka’s eyes widened, but she didn’t know how to retort. As a “normal” person, she naturally knew what a proper romantic view was. Aren’t harems only for novels and the fantasies of disgusting otaku?

But she also knew clearly that she couldn’t pull that off. One Rei plus one Ritsuko was more than she could handle. As for “this young lady isn’t putting up with it anymore”?

I can’t lose. Besides, after meeting the idiot Shinji, what kind of trash are other peers? They couldn’t enter this young lady’s eyes at all.

Asuka was the most conflicted one. She knew her biggest fear was being abandoned by Shinji, but she wasn’t willing to let go. She felt this concept was wrong, but what could she do? That idiot wasn’t from Earth; how could she expect him to follow mortal views on love?

She had even anonymously posted about this on a forum and was bombarded by “feminists,” which made her so angry she smashed her computer on the spot, thinking: If you dare to “punch” idiot Shinji, he’ll use a bolter to blow your heads off.

Digressing—back to the present. What to do now?

It’s frustrating to give in to that idiot’s wishes, but idiot Shinji doesn’t seem to care about these things. Sigh, he’s not an Earthling. If I don’t want to give up, I have to change my perspective.

Asuka performed some self-PUA, then turned her gaze to Misato Katsuragi. Her heart stirred—she suddenly realized this was a good thing.

I have leverage on Misato. From now on, she’s naturally a notch below me. That’s it! It’s just like a battle. I can’t beat idiot Shinji, but winning against others is enough. Misato might even become my assistant.

Her eyes lit up as her “German pride” logic activated. She cleared her throat: “Misato, you don’t want idiot Shinji to know about these shameful thoughts, do you?”

‘Uh, he probably already knows. If it weren’t for my guilty conscience, I would have already made a move. Who wants to watch you two brats pulling back and forth?’

Misato thought this, but she knew how to butter up the girl in front of her—just stroke her ego.

“No problem, I’ll let you go first.”

“What do you mean ‘go first’?” Asuka rolled her eyes. It still felt weird. She asked, “Misato, don’t you really feel like this is strange? Don’t you feel like it’ll be awkward to get along in the future?”

“Shinji-kun is not a mortal. If you hold that mindset, you can choose to give up, or become enemies with everyone to see if you can monopolize him and create a pure-love fairy tale.” Ritsuko, who had been silent, spoke up. As a Darwinist, she didn’t care about social ethics.

In the world of adults, having multiple partners is common. Having a foundation of feelings is already considered “pure love.” They wouldn’t be conflicted like children.

“Who said I was going to give up? Is there no one normal here?”

“I’m sorry, you’re the only one.”

Asuka was choked and couldn’t speak. She rubbed her brow and thought of the people closest to Shinji.

Rei doesn’t count—she’s a freak. Misato saying such wild things obviously isn’t normal. Ritsuko? This woman thinks everything the strong do is taken for granted. Oh, and that stalker—don’t even get me started, that’s a humanoid Angel.

‘Wait!’

Her eyes widened. She finally realized something important.

‘So, am I the only normal person here?’

Am I the only one trying to live by normal values, constantly struggling with this group of freaks?

Asuka opened her mouth slightly, finally understanding where the source of the problem was. She was a bit of a tsundere, stubborn, and had childhood trauma; normally, that wasn’t exactly “normal,” but she had been “completed.” Her trauma was healed, and her personality was more open.

Look at the people around her: An Astartes, a doll, a deep father-complex patient, a Darwinian freak, a humanoid Angel. What a collection of talents. It really proves the saying:

‘As long as others aren’t embarrassed, the embarrassed one is you.’

No, no, no. Something must be wrong with this world. Does that mean the problem is actually me, the only normal person? Is it because my values are too “normal” that I’m so miserable?

The girl had tangled herself up in her own logic again.

Seeing Asuka’s changing expressions, Ritsuko knew exactly what she was thinking. As a psychologist, it was fascinating to watch a “normal” person suffer in a group of freaks. “Alright, you should face reality. If you keep going like this, maybe that one will snatch him up first.”

“Who?”

“Kaworu Nagisa. As an Angel, he is the most abnormal one, and he learns very quickly. You don’t know, do you? That person has an ace up his sleeve and will soon figure out a way to get closer. Hasn’t he always wanted to close the distance with Shinji-kun?”

As Ritsuko spoke, she tapped her keyboard. An image appeared on the screen—a room, the one that once held Rei’s clones. Floating in a glass tank in the middle was a girl.

Silver hair, arms wrapped around her knees, one could see pale skin and a nearly perfect face. She was sleeping in the rolling bubbles.

“Kaworu…”

“You also heard my chat with Misato. Shinji-kun is now aware of the differences between genders. Because of Astartes culture, certain things are blasphemy in his eyes, which is his biggest obstacle.” Ritsuko showed a mysterious smile and hinted:

“He doesn’t have the lingering conscience of Misato, he won’t be as cautious as Rei, and he won’t be as conflicted as you. And the closest distance… is negative.”

“I absolutely won’t allow it!” Asuka exploded, forgetting all about her “normal” values. She knew how weird Kaworu Nagisa had been over the last few days.

Would a normal person say things like, “Shinji-kun, want to take a bath? Let’s do it together,” without batting an eye? Every sentence felt permeated with ambiguity. Whenever Asuka saw Shinji refuse, she would whisper a prayer: ‘May the Emperor protect him. This Astartes culture is great—it doesn’t give anyone any chances.’

But seeing the girl in the tank, she realized how cunning Kaworu was. She could endure losing to Rei, but losing to that stalker? That was out of the question.

“So this is not the time to blame Misato. There are things you can’t change, but things you can strive for. Don’t you want to win against us? Misato and I can help you.”

Like a demon’s whisper, Asuka fell for it. She couldn’t help but fall for it—it was a clever redirection of conflict.

“A-at least for now, I’ll trust you. But any action you take must get my approval.”

‘See? Problem solved. No need to blow my head off later.’

Ritsuko winked at Misato, who was also lost, not understanding how this “bad woman” had solved the issue. She had expected to be slapped twice.

“You acknowledge me?”

“Where did I acknowledge you? No, I always feel this is strange. Aren’t there only supposed to be one winner between romantic rivals?”

Asuka still felt weird. This went against everything she had been taught. Damn it, it’s all that idiot Shinji’s fault. I have to write this down and deal with him when I get home.

‘Every grievance has its author, and every debt has its debtor.’ This time, she was truly blaming the right person—it was indeed because Shinji was different from mortals.

The three fell silent. Things were certainly not over. Misato couldn’t imagine how annoying Asuka would be now that she had leverage over her. Asuka felt that this whole thing was wrong. As for Ritsuko, she was already immersed in the joy of her new research topic.

“Hey, what time is it?”

“Almost six. Why?”

Misato and Asuka exchanged glances and suddenly realized—what the hell were they fighting for? Where did the subject of their argument go? They looked at Ritsuko, who shrugged.

“The meeting ended an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?!”

“You didn’t ask.”

‘Fine.’

They were so busy criticizing Misato that they forgot the main point. Damn it, I haven’t even put on makeup or changed clothes yet!

Asuka stood up, but froze. A serious problem suddenly crossed her mind.

“And that idiot? How come he’s nowhere to be seen?”

‘Thank heavens, you finally remembered Rei.’

Ritsuko tapped her keyboard, and soon MAGI filtered the image from cameras spread throughout the underground facility. She said with some surprise: “Rei met with Shinji-kun forty-five minutes ago and… went to the break area together.”

‘What!?’

Asuka jumped up.

‘You’re cutting in line, aren’t you?’

She glared at Misato, who looked completely innocent.

“You were the one who came to me with such aggression. This has nothing to do with me.”

“I’ll settle the score with you later!” Asuka didn’t have the heart to stay; she bolted out, forcing staff members to dodge.

Today was truly an unforgettable day. The “Book of Hatred” would probably need a few more chapters.

Misato instinctively wanted to follow, but stopped. She was already “the shameful one”; if she followed, wouldn’t that make her life completely disgraceful? She turned around and glared fiercely at Ritsuko.

“This is all your doing!”

“Nonsense. I barely said a word the whole time.” Ritsuko calmly sipped her coffee. Seeing Misato pounce, she hurriedly explained: “I’m solving problems. If I didn’t intervene, how long were you planning to watch this weird romantic soap opera?”

“So you solve problems by selling me out?”

Ritsuko stepped back, avoiding the clawing woman, feeling helpless. This violent woman didn’t reason at all; she was clearly doing a good deed.

“Just tell me, was the problem solved or not? You don’t have to carry the psychological burden anymore. Rei will inevitably seize this opportunity—I’ve fed the treat right to her mouth. Asuka doesn’t have to be conflicted anymore, forced by me to take a step forward. Everyone has a bright future.”

Misato’s fingers, which were about to grab Ritsuko’s collar, paused. She was stunned: “You’re playing such schemes—aren’t you afraid Shinji-kun will settle the score with you?”

“Why be afraid? To him, these are just side quests. As long as I don’t hinder the mission, he won’t have a shred of resentment toward me. Besides, I’m helping with the ‘Instrumentality’ process.” Ritsuko said, calm and collected, and scoffed:

“Also, you underestimate Shinji-kun. I’ve said it so many times: he doesn’t care about the romantic soap operas you mortals see. To be precise, he doesn’t understand them at all. Making the simple problem of emotional bonding, building a family, and then propagating the species so complicated—efficiency-minded Astartes find it hard to understand.”

“The foundation of feelings is already there, and there’s no problem with physical fitness. I’ve told you the most efficient method.”

“The most efficient method is simple: find him alone and say straight out, ‘Astartes, will you mint coins for the Emperor?’ He will definitely not refuse. Instead, it’s these inefficient, self-conflicted methods of yours that trouble him the most.”

‘No. Something must be wrong with this world.’

Misato fell into the same confusion as Asuka. She considered herself a thick-skinned adult, but she realized her training was still far from enough.

“Don’t erode us with your values. We’re still on Earth, after all.”

“Don’t constrain an Astartes with mortal values.” Ritsuko retorted with her own words. Seeing Misato still wanted to argue, she played her trump card: “Even if Shinji-kun has a problem, you shouldn’t try to correct it. If you care about mortal ethics so much, you should focus on filial piety.”

“Filial piety?”

“Right.” Ritsuko blinked and changed her tone: “After all, Shinji-kun is a man worthy of being your father, isn’t he? That’s what you said, and very loudly, too.”

‘Damn it.’

I knew I was doomed.

Misato’s face turned as red as boiling water. She hung her head, wishing she could pull out a gun right now and silence everyone who knew this secret.

Everyone was helping “complete” Shinji-kun.

On the surface, at Misato’s house, the handsome youth stroked his warm coffee cup, his face filled with longing and regret.

Ritsuko hadn’t sought him out, but Kaworu Nagisa had already seen through everything. He knew Shinji’s concerns, and he was clear that Rei was about to take that step, yet he had no intention of intervening.

Regaining mortal emotions was the “Instrumentality” of Shinji. He should try to understand what love is, returning to humanity from a killing machine. After all, the wars of this world had an end. Shinji would eventually have to consider the issue of retiring. And in Kaworu’s eyes, whether it was the world’s future or his own path, it had been in Shinji’s hands from the beginning.

An Astartes cannot stay, because the endless war that belongs to them never ends. Leaving the battle line is betrayal. Even if the Emperor himself ordered retirement, a truly loyal warrior should refuse, fulfilling their oath until their gene-seed is extinguished.

But a human can stay. This is his homeland, with his relatives, lover, and friends. If he doesn’t stay here to enjoy the peace after the war, where else would he go?

Therefore, so-called “Instrumentality” is the process of transitioning from Astartes to human.

Is it mutually beneficial?

Kaworu smiled gently. That Ritsuko Akagi was quite interesting—one of the few people to discover this core problem. To complete the “Instrumentality,” some chains were needed to bind Shinji to this world. Rei and Asuka were the two primary chains.

‘Unfortunately, it’s not me.’

His expression turned wistful, but quickly became spirited again. It was clear he understood that as long as Shinji continued his “Instrumentality” and eventually stayed, there would always be a place for him.

“What I need to do now is to make sure you don’t go too far. If Shinji-kun discovers that the ‘Instrumentality’ process hinders the mission that must be accomplished, he will terminate the entire plan. Thanks to you all, Shinji-kun has already realized some things, and I have figured out what to do next.”

Kaworu stood up, washed the cup, hung the clothes from the washing machine on the balcony, touched Asuka’s apricot-yellow dress, looked down at his own attire, and finally smiled. He took one last, long look at the house.

A strange voice in his mind became clearer, but he wanted to carve the simple furnishings of the house into the depths of his brain. Finally, he walked out the door.

As he closed the door, he looked at the key in his palm, tucked it into his pocket, didn’t return it to Misato, turned around, and walked into the morning sun.

“Let me do you a favor. Goodbye, Shinji-kun. I hope that next time we meet, there will be a place for me by your side.”