The Case of Being Reincarnated as a Heretic Mob Character in an Eroge Where Everyone is Extremely Determined - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Could This Be Love? Right, it’s Stockholm Syndrome.

The Oakley Mobile Fortress Plan.

As I heard the outline of the story, it became clear that the plan was too frightening for the Orthodox side.

Here’s the gist of it.

First, replace my finger or a part of my body with that of an Executive. Then, I, disguised as a civilian, would be sent into one of the cities on the Orthodox side.

At a predetermined timing, I would head towards the center of the city.

The moment everything is ready, all the Executives would suddenly appear in the center of the city as part of the strategy.

If this proposal is indeed feasible, it would drastically change the nature of the religious war with the Orthodox.

The ability to aggressively employ inhumane tactics is a unique and overwhelming advantage that only a Heretic could possess.

Frankly, it’s almost cheating to be able to unilaterally and instantly deploy a human weapon like an Executive to the battlefield.

However, only Joanne is capable of ‘transferring’ a body over tens of kilometers. The ‘transfer’ range for other Executives is at best around one kilometer.

Well, even that distance might be considered sufficient… but there was something else that concerned me.

“If I may speak, Joanne-sama, if you’re going to go through such trouble, wouldn’t it be better for Executives to exchange bodies and fortify themselves?”

“No. I believe that Believers who are not Executives are more suited for the role, not just in terms of offense but also defense.”

I frowned at her words.

Wouldn’t it make sense for Executives, who have the ability to heal their bodies, to hold onto each other’s bodies as a form of insurance?

If seven Executives were to fortify themselves, they would create an incredibly nasty gimmick where all of them would have to be taken down simultaneously, or they would instantly revive.

They would need to be within one kilometer of each other to revive, but under the same conditions, it would surely be much stronger for Executives to have this arrangement—just as I was about to say this, I realized something.

“What would happen if… now, Joanne-sama, if someone were to blow away the ring finger that originally belonged to me?”

“The part from Oakley is lost, leaving only my hand. Of course, your part cannot be recovered.”

When someone else’s body part is obliterated by an attack, it seems that even if healing magic is applied to that part, the tissue of another person does not regenerate.

I see, if one is hit precisely at a specific point, this special state of flesh fusion can be forcibly undone.

I understand why the person who applies ‘Fortification’ must be a Believer other than an Executive.

During combat between Executives, who are constantly exposed to the risk of physical damage, even if they are fortified, they cannot fully utilize their strength.

It’s clear that it’s impractical to fuse the bodies of other Executives.

If the part from another person is destroyed, it cannot be restored, which makes it inconvenient to use.

When Executives are fighting, it seems that a general Believer with enough skill to hide sneakily is the most suitable for this role.

“I see. By deliberately allowing an odrinary Believer to possess the flesh of an Executive, we can expect high surprise attack capabilities on the offensive side, and on the defensive side, a stable revival point outside of main body.”

“That’s right. Plus, there’s no worry about the entrusted flesh rotting away. This might be the biggest advantage, to be honest.”

…If there is a problem, it’s that the healing magic of the Executives can only be applied to themselves and has only moderate effects on others like us.

Their healing magic doesn’t have the expansiveness to instantly recover a fatal wound of an ordinary Believer, nor can it regenerate lost flesh.

In other words, if Joanne were to lose or obliterate my ring finger in battle, it would be gone forever.

Well, at this point, I’m willing to let go of my ring finger.

It can’t be helped. I can tolerate losing a finger. However, if it’s decided that I am to be the revival host for all seven Executives, I would end up losing seven fingers in total. That would be quite inconvenient.

I’d much rather lose a toe, an earlobe, one of my kidneys, or even my appendix… Those would be far more manageable losses.

Considering the loss of body parts, it seemed impractical to transplant the flesh of the seven Executives.

Wanting to avoid the Oakley’s fortification, I decided to use Joanne’s fetishes and romantic feelings to oppose the idea.

“It sounds like a good idea, but is that really okay with you, Joanne-sama?”

“Eh?”

Joanne let out an absurdly loud voice, her large eyes widening in surprise.

It seems she still hadn’t realized.

“Let’s say we transplanted fingers from various executives. Naturally, the five fingers of the left hand wouldn’t be enough, so we’d also have to exchange the fingers of the right hand, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Even after swapping body parts, a man will still have the urge to masturbate. That means he would be doing it with the fingers of another executive transplanted onto his right hand… Can you, Joanne-sama, endure knowing that your lover is pleasuring himself with someone else’s fingers? Could you forgive that?”

“Ah…”

I used Joanne’s possessiveness and jealousy to steer her towards giving up on the fortification plan.

It seems she had already decided that the fingers were the body parts to be exchanged.

I was relieved she didn’t suggest something like exchanging toes or earlobes.

Indeed, the enhancement event was attractive, but the event I desired wasn’t like this.

I wanted something where I could bulk up with muscles or magically shoot out spells, not become some sort of gimmick like a dungeon boss that kills players on their first encounter.

While this may be acceptable in its own right, this plan could also lead to a significant enhancement of the heretical forces… I must prevent the plan to turn it into a mobile fortress.

Even when one desires to become stronger, there are limits and boundaries to consider.

On the side of the orthodox church, which has the role of governing the country, it’s difficult to advance research into inhumane tactics.

Until the unexpected inhumane strategies are revealed, countermeasures tend to be reactive rather than proactive.

The terrifying aspect of this operation is that if the strategy is unknown, the initial attack is almost certain to succeed.

I’m known by face in Celestia, but since I haven’t had my face drawn, I have free access to come and go from the city.

The fact that there are probably many people who look like me only highlights the horror of this strategy.

Seeing Joanne contort her face with possessiveness, I let out a sigh of relief.

That’s good. It was enough to exchange ring finger with Joanne.

That’s what I thought, at that moment.

“But Oakley, I really want you to do it.”

I could hear Joanne’s determination from next to me.

I almost let out a ridiculous gasp of surprise.

(What? Why? I thought the conversation was leading to us dropping the fortress fortification plan!)

Joanne’s pathologically pale white skin was flushed red, and she seemed to be struggling with something.

“Ugh… You… Oakley Mercury is mine. And yet, I believe this is the only way to defeat those damned orthodox vermin…”

Ah, that’s right. I had forgotten.

Her values are centered around the cult leader Aaros at the pinnacle.

Despite her personality, she’s the type who can neatly separate work and private life, this damn perfectionist.

“If you are so conflicted, perhaps it would be best to suggest to the other Executives that they utilize another Believer instead of me, Joanne-sama?”

“No, that won’t do. The explosive power of this strategy comes from embedding the flesh of seven Executives into one Believer. It’s certain that one person will receive transplants from seven others. If we’re going to make mobile fortresses out of others besides Oakley, we’ll have to implant it in the other believers as well… I think half measures won’t do…”

Half-measures are the worst.

Joanne, uttering these painfully resonant words, was torn between her possessive madness and the advancement of the cult.

“….No, but it’s not good either. I can’t bear the thought of others’ flesh merging with yours. And I hate the idea of having to transplant my flesh into others. Ahh, thinking about you really makes me go crazy…”

Wait, does this mean my transformation into a mobile fortress is a done deal?

What about my human rights?

I know they don’t really exist, but still.

Overwhelmed by anguish, Joanne began to cry bitterly. She then threw herself against my chest, pressing her forehead hard against me.

The mood suddenly seemed to be heading in a dramatic direction, but the content of the previous conversation was anything but that.

I feel left behind, as if I’m being swept up in a tide of excitement that has nothing to do with me.

(This woman is crazy… How can she become so sentimental over the conflict of whether or not to transplant flesh? Ugh, it smells like iron! Ah, it’s on me too…)

Joanne’s large tears fell one after another.

Even with a mind like a monster, she conveyed a proper girlish warmth and a softness and lightness that felt almost unfair.

“I’m starting to get confused… Oakley…”

Caught in a strange obssession, my arms, which were wrapped around her back, grabbed the air several times.

Even if she’s a monster, she’s still a woman. When she cries in my chest, for some reason, I feel like I’m the one to blame, and it hurts.

They say a woman’s tears can be a weapon… Please, Joanne, don’t add any more weapons.

Pushing her away might have been one way to deal with it, but she’d probably go berserk and kill me.

So I have no choice but to spoil her to the end.

“…It’s going to be okay.”

Defeated by her persistence, I muttered softly and enveloped her gently.

I wrapped my arms around her thin back and pulled her small shoulders close.

As I stroked her back through her clothes, I could feel her skin barely covering the undulating ribs beneath.

Despite having been shattered to pieces not long ago, through my hands, I could hear the beating of her heart.

Gradually, Joanne’s sobs subsided, and she lifted her face, stretching up to rest her chin on my shoulder.

Whether by calculation or not, her gaunt yet ample bust pressed against me mercilessly, causing me to inadvertently lean back and lose my balance.

Landing in a cross-legged seated position, I struggled to regain my posture while Joanne began to take deep breaths against the nape of my neck.

If Joanne were a man, I wouldn’t be allowing this, I thought.

There are many women among the executives because the original work is an eroge. In a way, it’s a relief, but whether it’s a woman or a man, I still feel a sense of rejection towards a Heretic.

(Before I knew it, Joanne’s affection level had become dangerously high. I might not be able to escape to another executive’s route now…)

Our warmth mingled through our clothes.

The monster’s skin was soft. Her slender, white arms wrapped around my torso, and her long legs clamped around my waist.

Occasionally, her boots would knock against the area around my spine, leaving me astounded by the intensity of her mad affection.

Patting Joanne’s head with all my might, I whispered, “It’s about time.” Of course, what I meant was ‘Please step back now,’ ‘This isn’t the time for such things,’ ‘If we have time to be affectionate, I’d rather be conducting experiments.’

And then, seemingly confused by some misunderstanding, Joanne began to show signs of bewilderment with an “Eh?” She placed both hands on my shoulders, and as she came closer, her moist, spiral eyes darted back and forth a couple of times.

Eventually, her gaze settled on my face. The girl who had been staring intently at me scratched her cheek awkwardly before saying,

“Okay, I get it… Mmm.”

(Huh!?)

She pursed her lips slightly and leaned in, pressing her lips against mine.

…..

“Don’t make me do this… Idiot.”

As I stood there, frozen and unable to comprehend what had just happened, I could see beads of sweat forming on the nape of her neck, which was oddly damp, and trickling down into the loosely defended neckline of her shirt.

No matter how you think about it, that was not the atmosphere for a kiss.

It’s only been an hour since we exchanged severed fingers.

I opened and closed my mouth like a carp and watched in amazement as Joanne stood up, her ears red.

(Calm down, me. I should be thankful that today ended with just a kiss. Was it good that I satisfied her desires by exchanging fingers? Anyway, I’m glad there was no emotionless arm chopping or anything like that.)

That’s right, half measures are the worst.

If I’m going to do something, I have to pursue it to the utmost. Even in winning over Joanne, I must push to the ultimate limit while avoiding limb dismemberment.

That’s how one must live to survive in this world. Live with all your might, gain strength, wring out every bit of wisdom, and fight to the death—only those who come out on top will survive.

With Joanne’s help, I stood up and looked down at my left ring finger.

“I’ll bring up the mobile fortress plan at the Executive meeting.”

“…Okay.”

It seems that she has already made up her mind about the Oakley Mobile Fortress Plan.

Juanquiro with her fetish for bodily fluid exchange, would be interested too.

It would lead to an increase in the cult’s strength… and Aaros, the cult leader, would surely be in favor.

It’s unclear what Pork, Stella, and the other Executives think, but the plan is likely to proceed with a majority of approvals.

“I like you… I don’t want to give you to anyone else.”

Having kissed once, Joanne seems to have lost her hesitation, and after stretching up, she presses her lips to mine again with a look of reluctance.

The eyes of the girl, torn between love and her mission, regained sanity for just a fleeting moment.

“Mmm… You should always be mine, Oakley…”