The Case of Being Reincarnated as a Heretic Mob Character in an Eroge Where Everyone is Extremely Determined - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: The Loving Couple Is Always Together!!

The women captured by the Heretics, after being brainwashed, to put it bluntly, are turned into a breeding bag.

The scarcity of women among the general mob is due to this, and except for special cases like Joanne or Pork, many women end up going that way.

Moreover, the maintenance and management work for these breeding bags is quite laborious, and to give an idea of how arduous it is, even the ordinary Heretics shake their heads in reluctance when it’s their turn to do it.

I’ve finally been relieved from the duty of managing that work recently, but it can be said without a doubt that it is the dark side of the Aaros Temple Order.

Speaking dystopically, it’s akin to a human production factory.

Even though resurrection from death is promised by Aaros, the men who are rather roughly treated and disposed of have it tough as well… It’s hard to say which is worse.

However, since coming to the Aaros Temple Order, I’ve realized that differences in circumstances hardly matter.

Everyone seems happy and fulfilled in their work.

They are indoctrinated to believe that working for Aaros is happiness, and they feel joy from the bottom of their hearts.

Regardless of age or gender, over 90% of people are completely used. If anything, even after death, they are turned into zombies and treated as fit.

Although I had almost forgotten due to being favored by the executive, the Aaros Temple Order is a group of heretics.

Aaros intends to create their own nation in the worst possible way imaginable—by offering Kenneth Orthodox Believers from the Holy Nation Geluid as a sacrifice to be used as material for deification.

If their rapid progress is not halted, the millions of Orthodox Believers in Holy Nation Geluid will all be spirited away on the day of the total eclipse.

Now that the world of the game has become a reality, it is only natural to want to stop their barbaric acts.

Although I no longer even remember, it was probably none other than Aaros and his followers who killed my family in this world.

As long as this fact exists, I could never bring myself to want to side with the Aaros Temple Order.

…Or at least, I shouldn’t have been able to—

Ever since Daskell collapsed, contradictions have begun to appear in my heart and body.

First, there’s the matter of Joanne.

At first, the goal was to avoid becoming too intimate and having my limbs torn off, so I planned to earn a moderate level of favorability and make connections—like stopping at a ‘friend’ rating in a dating game. The plan was to use her as a stepping stone for an Executive promotion.

I should thoroughly avoid getting any closer than necessary and considering the current situation; it’s clear that I should not advance our relationship any further.

However, before I knew it, my heart had started to desire Joanne.

I had tried not to be aware of it until now, but I had become so conscious of her that I could no longer pretend otherwise.

Every time I talked to her, an indescribable emotion seeped into my heart, and my heart would painfully pound inside my chest.

Just looking at her profile made me feel tight in the chest.

This abnormality was becoming stronger day by day.

Next, the matter of policy.

My earnest wish to survive has not changed, but my aversion and hostility towards Heretics had slightly weakened.

Occasionally, I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be fine if Heretics won and a good future awaited?’ or I found myself considering that perhaps backing Heretics’ rapid advances and settling into an Executive or a position just below might lead to a happier life for myself—my fighting spirit and animosity from a few months ago were visibly fading.

I don’t think the determination I made that day was half-hearted.

No matter how I think about it, I’m being forced into this situation.

There must be some external factor involved. But I couldn’t figure out what it was.

(Did I receive some kind of magic from Aaros? But I don’t remember being under his spell…)

I pondered for a while, but no clear answer came to mind.

There’s this uncomfortable feeling, as if what I should do and what I want to do don’t align.

It’s like, my body just won’t move, or something like that.

Thinking it’s not good to stay here and do nothing, I decided to go out and gather herbs to make medicine to break Celestia’s brainwashing.

The forest outside of Metashim is a treasure trove of medicinal herbs.

Unfortunately, there is no antidote for brainwashing in the original work, but it’s possible to create medicines that clear confusion in allies or aphrodisiacs that can be used in everyday scenes as long as I gather the ingredients.

My aim, of course, was the development of a ‘brainwashing antidote,’ but I also thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to concoct an aphrodisiac while I was at it.

Even if one has a tolerance for pain, a resistance to pleasure is not so easily acquired.

As a final self-defense measure, I considered the possibility of using the aphrodisiac’s arousing effects.

―So, with hope, I set out to diligently develop a new drug, but it was never going to be easy to develop something like a brainwashing antidote.

I managed to concoct various aphrodisiacs and confusion-clearing drugs, but as for the aphrodisiacs, I ended up having several small bottles taken by Joanne.

I should have never mentioned what kind of drug I was making.

“That Joanne, taking them by the dozen…”

It’s not hard to imagine what she’ll use them for.

The day may not be far off when I experience the effects of that aphrodisiac firsthand―

(Again. My mind is being taken in that direction… Why? That girl is an unpredictable lunatic…)

Delusions of being attacked by Joanne…

I shook my head to dispel that image.

However, because I can’t truly reject it, I just can’t seem to feel a sense of crisis.

It seems I must be under the influence of some kind of mental interference ability.

Cognitive abilities that distort perception are extremely troublesome.

(It feels like I’m being fed something lukewarm… like I’m being submerged in tepid water… Ah, I want something that can break through this hellish situation. Alfie, Marietta, anyone… someone helps me…)

By undoing Celestia’s brainwashing and killing the extremely troublesome Pork, the battle situation would barely be tilted in favor of the Orthodox.

My feelings are a mix of wanting to let the Heretics win and wanting to side with the Orthodox to restore a peaceful world.

I’m useless as I am now. I’m barely holding it together, but my thought processes seem to be that of a split personality.

Incoherent, half-hearted, indecisive… I embody the three elements that must be avoided at all costs.

The original personality, the one that was screaming, was crying out for help.

To make matters worse, those screams were being filtered through the implanted personality, attempting to send out a distress signal to Joanne and Aaros.

(Again… my chest hurts…)

While I was mixing medicines in the newly constructed room about the size of four and a half tatami mats, my heart felt as if it was being painfully squeezed. And then, my vocal cords unconsciously spun out Joanne’s name.

Having a private space, a sanctuary, is an irreplaceable joy, but it’s impossible to keep any major secrets since Joanne frequently comes to visit.

What’s most terrifying is that as soon as I call out Joanne’s name, there’s an immediate knock on the door.

If I open it, Joanne is always there, appearing with a beaming smile on her face.

This time, too, the door was knocked on without even a few seconds of waiting.

There stood Joanne, silent.

“I’m coming in, Oakley.”

“…Yes.”

There’s no right to refuse, nor does the inclination to do so arise.

My whole body is drenched in sweat. My heart is contracting repeatedly, like right after intense exercise, threatening to burst through the cage of my ribs from the inside.

I become so overwhelmed by the turbulent flow of emotions that I can hardly move.

Even though I’m aware that my mind is being manipulated from the outside, the torrent of intense emotions flooding in significantly diminishes my ability to think.

Pushed by Joanne’s shoulder, I’m shoved into the room. As I’m pushed down onto the bed, I notice a familiar small bottle gripped in Joanne’s hand.

It’s a bottle of aphrodisiac.

“Excuse me, Joanne-sama… I’m not feeling well today, and I’m just not in the mood…”

“What a shame, after I went through all the trouble of preparing. Well, it’s fine, I’ll take care of you.”

The eyes that had been filled with anticipation now clouded with disappointment.

Joanne put a small bottle back into her robe pocket and, with familiar ease, dove onto my bed.

“Hmm. Come, lie down next to me.”

Joanne patted the space she made beside her arm, inviting me onto the bed.

The Joanne I knew would have ignored my condition and downed an aphrodisiac in one go, giving in to her impulses… But perhaps something in her had changed.

With a mix of revulsion, fear, anticipation, and desire, I lay down next to her.

Joanne smiled contentedly and, with an expression full of tenderness, wrapped her hand around my back.

Unlike the forceful embraces of the past, this hug felt somehow gentle.

(It’s no use. When Joanne is near, I can’t think of anything…)

As I was about to close my eyes, forced to drink a blend of dizziness and relief, Joanne suddenly clutched her chest in agony.

“Ugh… ah, my chest…”

“…Joanne-sama?――Uh!?”

As she groaned, my heart sharply pained me.

While enduring the nausea caused by the self-contradiction, I reached out to comfort her.

Joanne took my hand and rubbed it against her cheek while shaking her head, saying, ‘I’m okay.’

“I’ve calmed down a bit… yeah. Your fragments are flowing into me, and it feels like my chest is going to be a mess…”

I didn’t understand what she meant by her words, but it seemed that her chest pain had stopped.

At the same time, the pain in my heart had also ceased.

Once again enveloped in her embrace, my face was buried in her chest.

A tremendous contradiction of emotions surged within me, an uncomfortable feeling as if my guts were being torn apart, mixed with ecstasy.

“…Didn’t you come to this room today to attack me? I’m sure you didn’t mean to spend time nursing me.”

“Ah, well, that’s… I had a change of heart.”

“Huh…?”

“Besides, you have some interesting memories, don’t you?”

“Yes?”

Memory?

What is this woman saying?

“…It was blurry and hard to see… Aha, ahaha. I’m starting to understand you more and more. There’s nothing happier than this. Being able to read the mind of the person you love, I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

Joanne’s cherry-colored lips touched my forehead.

The moment the softness and warmth touched my forehead, a sensation like an electric current surged through my body.

Images flowed directly into the back of my eyelids.

It seemed they were not my own but fragments of Joanne’s memories.

I was being forced to relive them.

…….

The images from someone else’s memories began with a scene inside a crumbling church, showing a masked man facing an orthodox priest.

The priest, attempting to wield fire magic, raised his hand, but his spell was repelled by the ‘shadow’ wall created by Aaros.

Realizing that long-range attacks were futile, the priest tried to engage Aaros in close combat, but the distance within reach of his hands was extremely dangerous—

Defeated in a high-risk, high-return gamble, the priest had his lower body blown away by Aaros.

His head was then directly seized, and his life force was rapidly drained.

The priest, flailing wildly with flames, was no match for Aaros, who defended against all attacks and caused the priest to die of old age within mere seconds.

After confirming the priest’s death, Aaros tossed the body aside and straightened his collar.

Aware of the presence of the owner of memories, he retracted his shadow and approached with the sound of his shoes clicking.

“…Young lady. Aren’t you going to run away?”

Aaros knelt before the owner of memories, leveling his gaze with hers.

In the midst of a vision blurred like a sandstorm, the owner of memories nodded emphatically.

“‘You’re not afraid of me?'”

Once again, the field of vision shakes vertically.

“You are an interesting young lady… My name is Aaros Hawkeye. And you?”

The man in the mask reaches out his hand to the owner of the memory.

The owner of the memory speaks, but for some reason, it can’t be heard.

Only to be told, ‘That’s a nice name’, and to have her head gently stroked.

“The Holy Nation Geluid ruled by Kenneth Orthodox is overflowing with suffering―What do you think? Would you like to create an ideal nation with me, one without suffering?”

Responding to Aaros’s call, the owner of the memory touched the writhing shadow in the palm of her hand—

……

Then the dream broke, and Joanne’s twin hills filled my field of vision again.

(Was that her memory just now…?)

Most likely, the owner of the memory is Joanne. But I have no recollection of such a scene from when I played the original game.

It must have been glossed over in a few lines of text, or perhaps it was a scene that required some degree of contemplation to understand.

In any case, that flashback wasn’t a coincidence. I remember what Joanne said earlier, ‘You have some interesting memories.’

That’s right, she had peeked into my memories. Just like I had inadvertently peeked into hers.

I was struck by a sense of despair so profound it seemed to relax every muscle in my body.

Memories of Japan. Memories of the original game. If she were to look into these memories, it would be the end of me. And with that, the chances of victory for the Orthodox side would vanish.

Why. Why has it come to this?

As I’m being stroked on the back of my head, my vision distorts greatly.

Everything’s a mess. Everything. Maybe it would have been better if I had died back then.

Without deciding on any determination, perhaps dying like a dog would have been happier.

I can hear Joanne taking a breath above me.

My memories are being laid bare. A feeling of weakness takes over my body.

But the memories of me that Joanne speaks of—

“…You too were raised without knowing your parents’ love.”

What she says starkly contradicts my own understanding.