The Case of Being Reincarnated as a Heretic Mob Character in an Eroge Where Everyone is Extremely Determined - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Joanne-sama’s Reward

Even after giving it some thought, I can’t come up with a definitive answer, and my thoughts run in parallel lines.

One premise that is certain is that ‘anyone has the potential to become Alfie’.

Alfie doesn’t have a special lineage or background. Therefore, if a person truly despises the Heretic and possesses the mental fortitude to not give up no matter how difficult the situation is——they might be able to become the second Alfie…probably.

However, I’m troubled precisely because such people are rare.

Aside from the Executives from both sides, Alfie is the only candidate who could be the savior, and someone like Marietta whom I just met is out of the question.
At her core, she is a kind-hearted girl who wouldn’t even harm a bug.

If no one else will do it, then I suppose I have no choice but to do it myself.

“Oakley, it’s about time we retreat.”

Entering a forest devoid of any light, aiming for Metashim, Joanne suddenly popped her head out from atop a tree, having pinpointed my location with a marker.

Joanne’s clothes were torn here and there, with her abdomen and legs slashed, exposing her white skin.

It almost seems rare that she’s not naked, a sentiment probably unique to the sensibilities of this world. It’s apparent she’s been fighting conservatively to minimize exhaustion.

For me, utterly exhausted, it’s a fortunate situation.

Hoisted onto Joanne’s back, I am cradled by her as we soar high through the dark night.

“Joanne-sama, what happened to the Orthodox Executive?”

“I knocked them down!”

“Is that so.”

‘I knocked them down’, does that mean they were completely annihilated or simply forced to retreat?

I asked with the assumption it was the latter, and indeed, it turned out that no one had been wiped out.

Well, it’s a given that Joanne and her group would win.

No matter how strong Saren, Pomett, and Celestia might be, Aaros and his crew are just as insanely capable in terms of specs.

Besides, if the heretics were to suffer a total defeat in a favorable situation of five against three, Aaros and his group wouldn’t have prospered up to this point.

It seems that Aaros switched from offense to defense after Pork received a fatal attack. Then, they took the opportunity to retreat.

The orthodox Executive didn’t pursue them deeply, focusing instead on evacuating the populace and assessing the situation.

In other words―the surprise attack associated with the mobile fortress plan was a great success. Our side suffered no losses, while the damage to the other side was extensive.

The city of Daskell collapsed, and there were many casualties among the people.

The trust in the Orthodox faith will be greatly shaken from now on, and it will send shockwaves throughout the country.

Although I’ve made an impeccable achievement in gaining Aaros and his group’s trust, I can’t help but feel I’ve dealt an excessive blow to the orthodox side.

As I was being carried on Joanne’s back, a wave of fatigue hit me, and I was suddenly overwhelmed by intense sleepiness.

Her body warmth also contributed to a strange sense of comfort that made me melt.

“Excuse me, Joanne-sama, I’m feeling a little sleepy…”

“Hmm? Ah, you had a busy day today. You can sleep until we arrive at Metashim.”

It was a long, long day. Transplanting an Executive’s finger, infiltrating the city of Daskell, surviving the battle between Executives—it felt like months had passed in just this day alone.

Since being born into this world, I’ve never truly savored a moment of peace.

When my self-awareness first sprouted, I was inside a heretical facility, and ever since, I’ve lived in constant fear of watchful eyes—wondering when this hell would end.

But while embraced by Joanne’s warmth, I feel like I can forget the dead-end reality, even if it’s only for a little while.

(…Warm. The faint scent of sweat and the smell of blood that clings. It’s unmistakably Joanne’s scent.)

I wonder why. When she’s near, I feel at ease.

The smell of a killer emanating from her—the ineradicable iron scent. Her small body, her small hands.

Feeling the warmth through her skin, I find myself hopelessly drawn to her.

Joanne is trying to empathize with me in her own way. I’m internally trashing Heretic, but she doesn’t know that and keeps showering me with her lovey-dovey aura day and night.

It was inevitable that I, having fallen into a Stockholm syndrome-like state, would develop a favorable impression of her.

And then, at the moment when my consciousness was on the brink of fading, I caught sight of five figures… returning to the city of Metashim.

(…Huh? Five… figures?)

Aaros, Shadiq, Stella, Pork—that makes four. So, who is the fifth figure?

My thoughts are mercilessly severed, and the scene shifts.

…..

As I open my eyes to the tickling sensation like someone combing through my bangs, a new hell unfolds before me.

“Oakley, good morning.”

Woken by a voice, I open my eyes. At the edge of my downcast vision, I see thick-soled boots.

As I raise my gaze, a dazzling expanse of bare thighs revealed by a miniskirt comes into view, and looking further up, a tight-fitting white shirt strained by a bountiful chest catches my eye.

Feeling dazed from exhaustion, my chin is lifted by an index finger. Spiral eyes come into view, and a slightly exposed split tongue licks her own lips.

Then, she gave me a good morning kiss, and Joanne’s blissful face sank downwards.

“…Good morning. How many days have passed since the Daskell surprise operation?”

“About three days.”

“Three days…”

“Really, I was worried because you wouldn’t wake up. It would be troublesome if you died on your own, you know?”

The meshed wolf cut swayed just inches from my nose.

The uniquely fresh scent of Joanne was bursting forth, far more vivid than before she fell into a deep sleep.

“…By the way, what are you doing?”

“It’s still in progress…, just wait a bit.”

“In progress…?”

Looking down at my own body, I saw myself shirtless and bound by restraints.

As usual, there lay the hedge shears, silent and waiting for their role on the nearby wooden table, tools meant for cutting branches.

Her words, ‘in progress’, allowed me to fully grasp what was about to happen to me.

this is the bad ending route of the original protagonist

I see; this must be what the original protagonist would call the bad end route—a situation where Alfie, having raised Joanne’s affection too much, falls into the worst yet in a sense the most blissful conclusion.

In the original work, there is a route where Joanne, who has a peculiar fetish, amputates the limbs of the protagonist, and he spends his life enveloped in her love until the end.

It seems that I have probably entered that route now.

As for me, I don’t particularly mind having my limbs torn off by Joanne.

I’ve become more resistant to pain and prepared for it than before, and as long as she takes care of the amount of bleeding, it’s not like I’ll die—

Moreover, spending my life under her management isn’t a problem either.

It could be a peaceful and pleasant future waiting for me, and according to the original work’s depiction, all three major desires are being satisfied.

She might even be willing to talk with me every day, so I probably won’t get bored.

But, if I, who have knowledge of the original work, were to become like that…who would be able to destroy the Heretic?

Now that Alfie is gone, I am the one who can temporarily play the role of the protagonist.

If I become unable to act freely, there will be no way to stop the Aaros Temple Order, which has succeeded in their ‘mobile fortress plan’ not present in the original work.

I definitely have to avoid becoming a limbless statue. I shake my head and question Joanne.

“Joanne-sama, please wait.”

“Sorry Oakley… I can’t hold back anymore….”

Joanne, looking excited, picks up the hedge shears.

She opens them wide near my right elbow and starts cutting ruthlessly——

“Whoa, Joanne-sama!! Stop for a moment!!”

“Eh, why?”

As I scream in utter astonishment and call for a stop, Joanne tilts her head with a full-faced smile.

This woman is indeed a terrifying creature. I can’t understand why I almost felt charmed by her.

“It’s not about why. The act of cutting should be done with the consent of both parties, that’s common sense.”

“…You’re willing to give me your fingers but not your arm?”

Joanne pleads with tearful eyes.

Indeed, when she puts it that way, it seems reasonable. I found myself half-convinced and at a loss for words.

From the Executive’s perspective, the man who enthusiastically offered his fingers to the cult was Oakley.

It wouldn’t be surprising to others if I just shrugged off my loss of limbs now, they probably thought ‘that guy is at it again.’

“Stella’s fingers and Pork’s fingers were grafted onto you… I just can’t stand that fact. Please, let me overwrite it with my own hands.”

What kind of overwrite is she talking about?

In any case, there’s no stopping it now. For the time being, I decided to quietly let my right arm be amputated.

Actually, severing a human body is quite laborious, and even for an Executive, it’s difficult to just ‘slice a body in two with a single stroke!’ during everyday life.

When the brain isn’t in combat mode, even taking a single arm requires a moment to catch one’s breath.

Waiting for my breath to settle, I decided to admonish Joanne.

“Do you intend to sever my limbs?”

“Eh? I won’t go that far. Didn’t I say it’s just an overwrite for their share?”

Huh, not severing limbs?

I pondered as Joanne hastily began to sever my left arm.

(What does this mean? Does she want to overwrite the fact that Stella and Pork’s fingers had fused by exchanging arms? Both emotionally and in terms of bodily tissue…)

“So, Joanne-sama wishes to exchange arms?”

“Yeah. You seemed like you didn’t want to be turned into a Daruma by having your limbs chopped off. I didn’t want to do anything you’d hate, so lately, I’ve been venting through exchanges… that’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

Perhaps, I had pigeonholed Joanne’s impression as ‘Well, she’s a woman with no interest other than Daruma-fication.’

I even felt moved by the change in her heart.

People’s s*xual preferences are always in flux. There are times when only breasts catch the eye and times when one is obsessed with butts.

In the same way, Joanne’s current preference had shifted from ‘Daruma-fication’ to ‘body exchange’ as the centerpiece of her desires.

“Thank you very much. I would be happy to have an arm exchange.”

I felt relieved as my left arm was cut off, but after pausing for a moment, I realized I was in a strange situation.

(Wait a minute. Am I being deceived? When I think about it, isn’t this body exchange thing pretty crazy too? After presenting the outrageously priced preference of Daruma-fication, could it be a clever tactic to then propose the expensive but somewhat acceptable preference of body exchange, making it relatively agreeable and advancing the negotiation?)

Indeed, Joanne might have a knack for business. She’s too good at getting her demands met.

Once she confirmed that my arm was down, Joanne put one handle of the hedge shears in my mouth.

She was gripping the other handle.

“Oakley, it’s a team effort.”

“That’s rue.”

Joanne’s eyes began to moisten, her expression starting to melt.

The room was already covered in blood.

“Mmm… Oakley, come?”

“Yes. I’ll go slowly.”

“Ah, ah… Ahhh~~… Amazing… I had thought so from the experiment, but this really is addictive…”

“It’s warm.”

Due to Joanne’s healing magic, our arms were exchanged.

Aaros aside, it seemed that having Pork’s fingers transplanted onto my body was unforgivable.

As I muttered an impression akin to that of an elementary schooler and tried to match Joanne’s mood, she climbed onto my lap and nuzzled her cheek against me.

She must have been very pleased as she kept showing off the exchanged arms and their seams over and over again.

Then, with the words ‘Let’s touch each other’, she took my arm in her hands and brought it to her face.

As I squished Joanne’s cheeks with the exchanged hands, she twisted her body with a giggle, saying, ‘That tickles, Oakley’, and showed her white teeth.

Joanne’s body danced on my lap, but I hardly felt any weight.

As we continued to play around, my hand accidentally touched her neck, and Joanne arched her back, letting out a sweet, coquettish scream.

“Kyaa! Oakley, did you do it?”

“It was a force majeure.”

“Pervert.”

(Where did that come from? Is this girl a psychopath or something?)

Right now, it’s just the arms of the owners that are touching.

There’s no s*xual excitement or anything like that from being touched by one’s own arm.

Isn’t that the case? I don’t know, I guess body exchange is still a no-go.

I smiled, lured by Joanne’s shy laughter, and then she whispered in my ear, ‘Touch me more.’

Well, I guess I can lend a hand… Just as I was resigning myself to that, the door in front of us was flung open with force.

“Hey, hey! What have you been doing, making such lewd noises all this time?!”

…And as she said that, entering the room was Juanquiro, an Executive I hadn’t seen in a while.

I looked at her with a question mark floating above my head.

“Juanquiro-sama, what brings you here?”

“…It wasn’t anything lewd, but rather physical play, huh…”

Perhaps having deduced everything from looking at our arms, the tanned girl with silver hair and golden eyes cast her gaze downward, her expression a mix of relief and disappointment as she chewed on something in her mouth.

Well, I’ll refrain from delving too deeply into her thoughts.

“I-I haven’t done anything yet”

Joanne stood up from my lap and, while fiddling with her hair, maintained a certain distance from me.

Juanquiro, letting out a sigh at this behavior, told us to change our clothes.”

“…Well, it’s fine. Both of you, stop fooling around and get your bodies back to normal. We’re going to meet her.”

“Eh, but I haven’t let off steam yet…”

“Just come on. Because she’s saying weird things, I want to check on various things.”

Who could ‘her’ be?

Ignoring Joanne’s dejected look, I decided to ask Juanquiro.

“Oh, haven’t I told you? Aaros-sama captured Celestia.”

(…What?)

Memories flashed back, and the scene of us retreating from Daskell came to mind.

―Five figures… The unknown sixth person turned out to be Celestia from the Orthodox Executive.

(No, no-no-no. Why? It doesn’t make sense. Did Aaros capture Celestia? It’s not impossible, but―)

Anyway, I won’t understand anything unless I go to the scene.

Led by Juanquiro, we headed to the underground prison where Celestia was said to be confined.