The Case of Being Reincarnated as a Heretic Mob Character in an Eroge Where Everyone is Extremely Determined - Chapter 39

Chapter 39 Today’s Menu: Organ Exchange Brainwashing Battle, Fresh Fish Filleted Open

Human organs are delicate.

It is a well-known fact that they cannot simply be transplanted into another person’s body without proper preparation.

In the first place, the number of organs that can be donated to others is not that many, with only less than ten organs eligible, including the heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, pancreas, small intestine, and eyeballs.

Normally, transplantation surgeries are performed after various tests and processes, such as blood type, antibody reactions, and the health condition of the body.

When such procedures are carried out, the utmost care is taken, and all available scientific technology is utilized—however,

Joanne, living in this world, was not equipped with such knowledge.

She never had the chance to learn her own blood type, and if someone mentioned antibodies, a question mark would probably float above her head.

Therefore, what should have been a major surgery turned into a reckless, grotesque act completely detached from any sense of cleanliness or scientific technology.

Although she had the skill to slice through people like a surgeon, she was not adept at healing techniques such as suturing.

Aside from haphazardly stacking healing spells, she continued to specialize in destruction, wielding her knife.

Joanne, without any concern for the delicacy of the human body, roughly and swiftly dissected and segmented it.

She became addicted to the pleasure of body exchange and the infusion of another personality.

(I never understood your heart, not in the slightest. To be honest, I couldn’t see what you were thinking. But, each time I feel a part of you, I understand more and more…)

She plunged her hands into her beloved, exchanging and stirring his with hers.

Each time Oakley’s insides were meticulously touched by those hands, he twisted his face in pain and groaned.

An insatiable sadistic heart. A man taller than herself, pathetically gasping just by having his mucous membranes traced.

This fact inexplicably accelerated Joanne’s actions.

“Hey, hey Oakley, what happened to that bravado from earlier? You’re already worn out, aren’t you?”

Joanne licks away the tears that have formed at the corners of Oakley’s eyes.

Their bodies are already smeared with a deep crimson liquid, indistinguishable as to whose it is, and the newly built private room is entirely stained red.

It is a dramatic renovation made by a gruesome expert in human dissection.

Oakley is gasping for breath, enduring the pain with perseverance.

Even for him, having his insides churned seems to be too much to bear.

However, Oakley quickly regains a composed expression and taunts Joanne.

“Isn’t Joanne-sama the one who is sweating like a waterfall?”

Oakley posture bravely while being straddled by Joanne.

His remark hits the mark, and Joanne’s ego is shaken by Okley’s personality that was poured into her one after another.

Now, in order to explain Oakley’s condition, let’s talk about how to open a certain fish.

There is a basic method of filleting fish called ‘belly cutting.’ You insert the knife near the head on the belly side and cut straight along the spine so that one side of the fish remains attached at the back.

For the special purpose of conducting an internal organ exchange and brainwashing battle, a method similar to this fish filleting was the optimal solution.

Stella says—’Fish dishes are delicious, and so is the act of slicing open an Orthodox Believer and eating them while they dance.’

That aside, Oakley, who can still speak despite being gutted and having hemostatic healing magic applied, is quite a remarkable talent.

Joanne is in a similar state, but she is equipped with explosive healing magic that can instantly regenerate her entire body from a single piece of flesh.

Joanne can afford a risk-free abdominal dissection, but for Oakley, the more he bleeds, the closer he comes to death.

There is a decisive difference in terms of risk.

Moreover, since fatal wounds cannot be instantly healed with magic, it can be said that Oakley is currently on a path towards death.

Oakley would have preferred to start the organ transplant sooner, but the process is hardly progressing because Joanne keeps indulging in the afterglow.

However, the reason Joanne couldn’t progress with her work was indirectly because of Oakley.

Every time Oakley was touched, he would show such adorable reactions, provoking with his words and actions, and because he had never seriously confronted Joanne—she had no choice but to savour this rare, bizarre act of communication.

(Ah, how fun it is, Oakley… There are things we understand because we’re both serious. You were desperate to survive.)

Through the flowing self of Oakley, Joanne thought that she was having a real conversation with Oakley for the first time.

Joanne remembered that conversations with Oakley often skimmed the surface, mostly superficial.

Especially Oakley. He rarely initiated conversations with Joanne, and it was mostly a passive development where he would respond when spoken to.

The game of catch with affection is difficult. If one finds themselves always throwing the ball, they start to worry, ‘Maybe the other person doesn’t like me anymore.’

Sometimes, they just wish the other person would throw the ball back.

Joanne was no exception, feeling uneasy about Oakley’s lack of expressive changes.

(Recently, you just nodded to my words, you didn’t whisper love to me. It was always me starting the conversations, and you hardly ever initiated… But in reality, you were crazily in love with me…)

He had only kissed me of his own accord once amidst the confusion.

It was our first kiss, exchanged right in front of Juanquiro. But beyond that, it was always Joanne who sought more.

How can he not desire me when he has such a cute girlfriend?

Could it be that he has another woman…?

That’s what I had been thinking, but it seems Oakley, rather than engaging in a normal romance, is thoroughly committed to Joanne’s abnormal love.

That is Oakley’s way of showing love.

Joanne was convinced that it was a form of love that Oakley wanted to demonstrate, even if it meant risking death.

And Joanne’s love for Oakley was also deep—

Oakley, whose heart is so distinctly in line with Kenneth Orthodoxy, is fortunate that instead of being put on the spot in the executive meeting, the situation is being resolved through acts of love and dialogue.

For Oakley, this is an exceptionally lucky turn of events.

(I become so happy when your memories flow into me. I want all of it—your joy, anger, pain, and sadness. Come on, tell me more—)

The heart, wriggling like a fresh fish just pulled from the water, had already been replaced.

Starting with the smaller parts that are relatively easy to exchange, I work my way up.

The lungs and the large intestine, those exceptionally large parts, will be the fun for later.

Sorting, deliberately cutting, and fusing together. Swapping parts one after another from the places that catch my attention, fulfilling the throbbing desire within my heart.

A method of venting s*xual desire that seems far from sanity.

This madness swallowed Oakley’s psyche, driving him to the brink of insanity.

As the process of exchange progresses, a strong restraint is placed on Joanne’s madness.

Oakley’s psyche and Joanne’s psyche are mixed, and the memories of his body’s experiences in this world become muddled with the ‘original’ memories.

“Uh… Are these your memories too…”

The intense emotions from the time of Metashim’s collapse and ensuing madness flood in.

Even for the formidable Joanne, it seemed difficult to withstand the torrent of Oakley’s disjointed thought processes at that time, and she stopped handling the knife to calm her thought circuits.

The memories that can be read through memory transfer are vague.

Sandstorms cloud various parts of the memories, preventing any full and clear understanding.

However, one thing is clear: the person he lost during the collapse of Metashim was someone who had been a pillar of support for Oakley’s heart.

(Is this person ‘Alfie’? What’s real and what’s a lie, with the way I am now, it’s all jumbled up and I can’t seem to make any judgments…)

Oakley’s heart continues to wander.

The pain he has suffered is hammered into Joanne’s exposed heart in its entirety.

Coupled with the progression of her memory disorder, no matter how much she struggles, the contamination of her personality steadily advances.

To counteract Oakley’s brainwashing, Joanne unearthed her irreplaceable memories.

Memories woven with Oakley sear her brain.

That day when she first met him. He bit into the absolute being, Executive Celestia, and provided cover with his crossbow.

Seeing her naked, he couldn’t bear it and draped a robe over her.

He thought of Joanne simply as a young girl and showed concern for her.

For Joanne, who had dedicated her body and soul to working for Aaros, being treated as a woman was a first-time experience.

Above all, his attitude, while maintaining the bare minimum of courtesy, was somewhat frank, something she had never experienced before.

Since he draped the robe over her, the sound of the name Oakley became something she could never forget for a moment.

And so, Oakley placed a piece of flesh into the pendant, the pendant which is commonly known as a token of faith among the believers.

I cherish it as much as I do Guru Aaros—it was such an implicit confession.

It was the moment when her first love came to fruition.

After their second battle with Celestia, Joanne, having confirmed her feelings of love, decided to make a tentative confession to affirm their mutual affection.

The result was ‘mutual love’. Joanne’s ring finger was graced with a present, and they officially became lovers.

From there, they smoothly took the next steps, advancing their relationship to the point of sharing kisses.

Spending the night together in the same bed, bathing and washing each other’s backs, engaging in trivial small talk, tickling each other, laughing together without any reason—

The times I’ve shared with him are irreplaceable memories.

My first love. My first lover.

Ah, I am hopelessly, madly in love.

But that was happiness for Joanne.

“The moment I fell for you, I decided to be on your side no matter what! I decided to forgive any mistakes you make! The determination I had back then—the feelings I still have now—they’re not a lie!!”

—To completely dye Oakley’s heart in the colours of the Aaros Temple Order. That was Joanne’s craving.

She understood that he was not an ‘ally’.

However, she couldn’t accept ending things while still being opposed to him. Because Joanne Sagamix loves Oakley Mercury.

Because she’s in love with him.

In the same organization, with the same goals, she wants to create a happy world.

These feelings must not be a mistake.

“I’m tough, Oakley…!”

“…”

In response, Oakley seemed to be enduring a mental attack, stifling a scream, perhaps because Joanne’s madness was being delivered at a purity of one hundred-percent.

Due to a combination of blood loss, severe pain, and contamination, Oakley, who is an ordinary person, was in a more critical position.

No matter how favourably one looked at it, he couldn’t match Joanne, who possessed a robust mental strength.

The fruitless contest of endurance continued, unabated even as hearts, pancreases, kidneys, spleens, small intestines, and various bones and flesh were exchanged.

It wouldn’t stop until one of them decisively broke until they were destroyed until they lost their personality.

Still, Oakley was determined to win this battle.

This conviction grew stronger as the personality of the man named Oakley was whittled away.

While internally tormenting Joanne, he now launched a verbal offensive.

“I absolutely despise you, Joanne-sama. Even at this moment, I’m thinking about killing you.”

“…Ugh. That remark stings a little…”

Joanne’s maiden heart was shaken by Oakley’s words.

However, she knew that there was a lie woven into his statement.

(…Oakley. It’s true that you’re afraid of me, but somewhere in your heart, you’ve truly come to like me. I can tell by looking into your memories… you liar…)

Joanne, beginning to understand even the contradictions in Oakley’s heart, caressed his cheek with her bloodstained hand.

“I don’t care what you say. I will reclaim your heart that’s being pulled by Kenneth Orthodox. Oakley Mercury… You will create an ideal world with us.”

“I intend to destroy everything of the Aaros Temple Order. Joanne-sama, Juanquiro-sama, Pork-sama, Stella-sama, Aaros-sama, and all the other Believers, I will kill every single one of you.”

“… You’re so stubborn.”

“Say whatever you want.”

“I really do like you.”

“Appealing to my emotions is pointless.”

As Joanne gently sealed Oakley’s lips, she realized that their paths would never cross as things stood.

A moment of sorrow. A tinge of loneliness from not being able to understand each other despite having spent a considerable amount of time together.

Tears mixed with blood stained Joanne’s cheeks a crimson red as they overflowed.

The two, having gently parted their lips, gaze into each other’s eyes at close range.

“There’s only one path to understanding between the two of us.”

“Either you brainwash me,”

“Or I brainwash you.”

Joanne, wiping away her tears, makes up her mind.

What they both seek is a resolution built upon a dialogue that has worn down both mind and body.

If they had considered the difference in power, it would have been easy to dominate Oakley’s spirit without setting up this situation.

Joanne accepted an equal resolution because she simply wanted to have a heartfelt dialogue with the one she loved to the point of death.

“Because I like you, that’s why—” (Joanne)

“Because I hate you, that’s why—” (Oakley)

“—I will accept you with all my might.”

“—I will reject you with all my might.”

They exchange breaths.

A massive amount of blood spurts out, and Oakley’s eyes roll back as he vomits blood.

Yet, Joanne gently embraces Oakley, who has leaned forward.

Oakley convulses as he awakens. Gently lifting his reddish-black bangs with her fingers, Joanne whispers, ‘You can still do it, right? The man I fell for can’t possibly die from just this.’

In response, Oakley shows a weak smile.

What an utterly hopeless woman, he thinks, almost in amazement.

He doesn’t wish for a resolution through death, but Joanne is adamant about settling things through dialogue.

Exchanging the large intestine. Oakley’s body seems to reach its limit, but he screams as he returns to the present world.

Because we are both serious, I cannot compromise. (Joanne)

Because we are both serious, I cannot give up. (Oakley)

For the one I love. (Joanne)

For justice. (Oakley)

—I absolutely cannot lose.

As the night deepened, the grand dialogue was reaching its climax—