章 15: 14th Move | First Impressions
"As you know," I started as I, in casual clothing, with the pink, blue, and old ogres following closely behind, walked down the aisles of the now-completed supermarket that I had used when fighting against Ifrit. The pink and old ogres were in jaw-dropping awe at the amount of food present and at the cheap cost, both in awe of modernity.
The blue one stared at the cuts of meat off in the distance.
With a single hand, I picked up an apple from the aisle. The apple was red interrupted by spots of yellow and was large enough that I had trouble fully encompassing it in the palm of my hands.
"I am responsible for all the things you see in front of you. I gave and sold blueprints to entrepreneurial hobgoblins who then took out a loan and started their own businesses. Although nowadays I've mainly focused on auctioning off the blueprints."
I was tempted to chew on the apple to make a point, but since I haven't bought it yet, it would heavily antagonize my business side.
So I plopped the apple down with another pile of a different species of apple.
The others are currently resting after my healing of their wounds. As it turns out, the purple and red ogres all were shot by the autocannons and were running on adrenaline before giving the pink-haired individual whom they called 'Princess' a scare by collapsing from blood loss.
That was what actually made them come with me to Metropolis: they possessed no means of saving them, so I offered my own transport and healthcare services.
Glancing at the trio of wounded ogres, I determined they still have some time left before expiring, so I thought why don't I impress my soon-to-be employees by taking them on a flight?
The A.A.A. shifted its weapons attachment around to carry six additional passengers. After everyone got situated, the thrusters underneath my foot activated and we took off, flying at near-sonic speeds as though gravity didn't exist since the Anti-Army Armament weighs close to 20 tons.
It must've been a scary sight to anyone below; a massive metal bird-like creature cutting through the air just above the tree line, the roar of its engine a frighteningly loud constant never-ending thunder.
Seeing how their eyes seemed to gravitate towards the fruits, I concluded they mustn't have eaten in a while. Not surprising given how they were on the run.
"Pick any combination of food you want, I'll pay for it. Think of this as my treat." I said casually. Not only would I ingratiate myself with the ogres by giving them free food, but with how human they are they're also socially obligated to return the favor so to speak.
The old one narrowed his eyes in suspicion but said nothing as the pink one grabbed a nearby plastic bag and started plopping all manners of fruits and snacks. The blue one walked towards the meat aisle, leaving only me and the old one.
There was an uneasy silence between the two of us.
"I don't recall there ever being a city here, only a small goblin village." The aged ogre started as he picked up and inspected a single Auberry.
Auberries are a native species of the Jura Forest. Brown in color and a bit bigger than blueberries, they were often seen as a sweet treat. As such, a small part of the vertical farm on the Egg was dedicated to farming these Auberries, providing markets such as this one with a steady supply of them.
"Oh yes, that was the case before we came here over a month ago."
"A month?" The old ogre's voice was filled with disbelief, a break from his usually calm demeanor as his hands loosened, dropping the Auberry, "And you built everything here?"
"Is it truly so surprising?"
"The cities in Dwargon were built millenniums ago. Our village can date its origin to 400 years ago during Relentless's Rampage, where the chief welcomed a group of wounded Otherworlders and they taught us the ways of the Samurai. Are you a Demon Lord then? To be able to build such a grand city in such a short time?"
Ah, so that's why they had clothing that seemed to originate from feudal Japan. Assuming that time is isotropic, that would mean they encountered a group during the early Edo or late Sengoku period of Japan.
I did a small research project on Japan in high school, so I know some information about that nation.
I let out a sigh, "No, I'm not a Demon Lord. I am Scientia Tempest, a rogue homunculus."
That seemed to surprise him, as the wrinkles on his forehead rose like mountain ranges.
"A homunculus? With this much independent thought?"
"I escaped from a family of rogue artificers. I was alive for more centuries, serving as their recorder. I was alive, but I wasn't truly living. It wasn't until a while ago that I escaped and met up with a blue, headache-inducing slime."
I spoke in a frank tone and had this faraway look in my eyes. I looked like a person lost in their memories, or perhaps a lover waiting for their beloved to come back. It was an extremely convincing act performed with guidance from [Acting].
The old ogre seemed to believe me as he wandered off, leaving me alone.
"..."
I don't feel bad. Manipulation is a part of daily life, in fact, any deals worth more than half a billion dollars and you can almost guarantee at least one party is spying on the other to gain leverage.
I went to the checkout spot, bought myself a granola bar, and waited for the trio to finish buying. I like the old ogre, he seemed to be a good conversationalist.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a rectangular metal frame the size of my Old World smartphone. The metal frame seemingly had nothing inside it. Pushing in on a small protrusion on the side of the metal frame, its inside lit up.
This was a graphene phone.
Graphenes are an allotrope of carbon composed of a single layer of atoms arranged in a beehive-like pattern. The material has a tensile strength of 130 Gigapascals, is mostly chemically inert, and most importantly, has high electrical conductivity.
With how transparent it is, whenever I tap on the phone it almost looks like I am tapping air, and the things the graphene phone displays also looked like it was suspended in midair like a hologram.
Accessing the local internet, I started browsing what few websites there were. Surprisingly, the most popular type of website was message boards and forums where users could come and talk. Since the internet was still in its infancy, it wasn't the corrupted, messed up hodgepodge it was in my old life.
I felt a sense of sadness at the thought of the current clean internet being gone soon, but it was inevitable.
So I checked off the local internet and accessed my own network. Using the phone, I checked up on the satellites up in orbit. Right now, approximately 30,000 asteroids sized 100 meters across and above have been turned into mines for raw resources. Considering how all new satellites have switched to solar panels as a means of energy collection (Rimuru and I found constantly supplying the mines with hydrogen was way too tedious), it wasn't too bad.
Then, I checked the Tempest political log again for any updates and found that Congress has granted me the ability to supply the military with Anti-Army Armament.
My vision for the Grand Republic Army was to have these A.A.A. as 'tank' equivalent, with disposable humanoid drones commanded by flesh and blood officers supported by airstrikes and flying, information collecting drones being the infantry. Realistically, we need these powered units to go up against other nations' superhumans.
As for the Grand Republic Airforce, I honestly don't think we're going to have any pilots flying jets, not when AI is better. I don't know the true capacity of these 'Demon Lords' so I mostly left the Air Force blank aside from ideas for bombers.
The Grand Republic Navy is just going to be composed of primarily troop carriers. Battleships are already outdated even before I was born because of guided missiles, and with the technology I have, not even railguns will be enough to reinvigorate battleships. In fact, in the future, I think I'm going to dissolve the Navy and reform it into a space navy.
Once Tempest has pacified this world and reaches beyond the heavens, the vast void between stars will become the new oceans.
My thought ended abruptly as the ogres came, around their arms were bags upon bags filled with groceries.
I felt my mind drag me back to that time before the direwolves when a village elder had given a patient of mine who was about to undergo surgery a towel for them to bite on to deal with the pain. These ogres must've never even seen this much food...
For me, the selection in this supermarket was pathetic. A normal convenience store at a gas station has more types of products than this supermarket.
The effect of technology and modernity.
The total cost for their groceries amounted to a bit over 500 dollars, which I paid in cash and told the cashier to keep the change.
All part of an act.
Afterward, the ogres went back to visit the three who were being treated for their injuries. The old one went to the small kitchen in the clinic to prepare some food while the pink ogre peeled some oranges and personally fed them to the red one. The blue one stood vigilantly, watching the three as they were covered in bandages and recovering in bed like a silent guardian just out of view, out of mind, yet always there and ready to strike at any threats.
I really do wonder how monster societies function without names. As human societies became more complex, the need for a name arose as it became difficult to really efficiently call out to other people. The need for last names arose when cities were made because realistically, first names become too limited.
According to the world atlas that Rimuru brought from Dwargon, the Jura Forest is surrounded on its southern side by nations of monsters. The book specifically said 'nations', so their society must be beyond mere tribal and perhaps as complex as human societies.
How do they function? How do their contracts work without any names? It's a fascinating sociological question.
_____________________________________________
It took a full day before the ogres fully healed from their wounds, partly thanks to my technology in the form of stem cell extraction and infusion. For the one without an arm thanks to my lasers, I had to dip my hands in acid once more and perform another reattachment surgery, this time with the patient accepting the general anesthetics.
The pink ogre then showed the red one, and the purple one around our Capital, and later on, once feeling returned, to the dark-grey one as well after the general anesthetics passed through his system.
Letting them look around here would only help improve their image of Metropolis and subsequently, the Jura Tempest Republic as a whole, so I was a bit disappointed they didn't spend more time looking around the city.
After the awe of being in a modern city had subsided, even if the culture shock still remained, negotiation began in earnest.
It started off slow, as apparently, I had to elaborate and explain certain words and legal jargon.
Man, I really should open a law school. This is the job of a lawyer, not me.
_____________________________________________
We are in the middle of a stereotypical meeting room you'd see in an office building. The dark wooden floor contrasted nicely with the white marble table. The four walls around us are made out of dark oak and a white roof with 3 sets of lights.
The negotiation had started at the crack of dawn and continued until there was a break during noon for lunch and one for dinner. Right now, the sun had long set and the darkness of night replaced the blueness of the sky.
I sat on one end of the table while the ogres sat on the other. Empty water bottles littered the room, and I could see it in the ogres' eyes that they too were tired of being in a single room for so long.
The situation is incredibly tense as I await their answers.
I swear these people are more cautious than insurance brokers, and that's saying a lot since insurance brokers sometimes would literally hire multiple consulting companies to analyze the risk of giving certain entities insurance.
Reclining down on the synthetic leather chair while grabbing a glass of water, [Acting] then had me pull out my phone and play a game of pong I downloaded to look nonchalant and unworried about whatever they chose.
I recognize these tactics, the relaxed posture signals to the other side that they are unimportant and I don't care what they choose. It's oftentimes used to belittle the other side while showing that you are so powerful or have so many choices that if they say no, then that is it.
And it works a lot more than most would have expected.
Upon hearing the sounds of paper hitting wood, I raised my head to look at the group who was still examining the paper.
Pausing the game and sticking the phone back into my pocket, I was about to open my mouth when the old one pointed to the paper, "Article 3, clause 13 C. Subsection 1, The ogres shall each receive a minimum payment of 50,000 a year adjusted for future inflation and potential raises. Each payment shall be afforded to them on a biweekly basis. I've researched the Dwarven coin to Tempest Dollar conversion ratio, 1 Dollar is the equivalent of 10 Bronze coins, meaning that you'll pay us 50 Gold Coins worth of service even if there is no action?"
Nodding along, "Indeed, the 50,000 is just a retaining fee, there's an included 40,000 Dollar sign-on bonus as well, and all basic expenses like water, electricity, and housing will all be free and paid by me. You know that the average salary of a hobgoblin working in the factory is around 70$ a day (still working on increasing the minimum wage law by the way), with this contract you'll also get all-expenses-paid healthcare as well as an appropriate amount of free time to pursue your own hobbies when I do not call on you. However, if I do call on you I would need you to drop whatever you are doing and answer." I clarified with as little modern lingo as possible, I highly doubt that these primitives know what Stocks are.
The red one appeared to be in deep thought, the blue one looked at me with deep suspicion, the pink one looked convinced, the purple one looked at me with contempt, the old one still studied the contract, and the black one was afraid of me.
I looked down at the phone and saw the time, "If you desire, we can stop the negotiation for today. It's already pretty late, and you can take the contract with you to look it over more."
Please accept the offer. I really would like to tinker some more today. I felt anxious. When the ogres wanted to start negotiation this morning, I was in the middle of checking up on how the production of the Anti-Army Armament was going. I thought the negotiation would take only a few hours at most, not the whole day! I would like to start the A.A.A. production as soon as possible, please!
It was like watching a TV Show but the episode ends on a cliffhanger and there's a week until the next: the wait was agonizing.
I'm going to sweeten the deal.
[Acting] channeled a pressuring salesman persona, like the one you'd find in a reality TV show like Shark Tank.
My left hand rose to gesture towards the group as I leaned forward, "Tell you what, I'm going to make it more enticing for you: if you accept the contract today, right here, right now, I'm going to offer you six instantaneous citizenships of the Jura Tempest Republic."
Seeing their confused expression, I elaborated.
"By becoming a citizen, not only could your future children become instant citizens as well, but they'll also be able to attend the Metropolitan School of Higher Thought and Learning for free. You and your next of kin would also be entitled to enormous discounts on more advanced education once the Metropolitan University is built. For more personal benefits, by becoming a citizen, you are allowed to take out loans from the Tempest National Bank and be only taxed on the property you own instead of your revenue. Moreover, the Jura Tempest Republic is also legally and constitutionally obligated to come to your protection, whether in the form of legal consultation services, political pressure, or military actions. We care very much about our citizens."
"And... names?" The old one asked, pointing to a specific part of the contract.
"Normally, any and all Monster citizens are entitled to what's known as 'Equal Naming'. This type of naming is different from the ones you're getting because it barely costs any magicules and the creatures don't evolve." Rimuru had switched to this form because it grew just too tedious to name the numerous number of daily immigrating goblins that come to Tempest as refugees or immigrants. What's more, it's a violation of democratic values for a specific leader to be seen as the 'master' of everyone within an entire nation, as it'll become effectively impossible for a newly elected leader to take hold.
However, the fact that Equal Naming describes almost exactly what Veldora did with me and Rimuru, where my and Rimuru's power didn't increase as a result of the True Dragon's action, was rather interesting. It implies that it was a conscious choice, that a True Dragon somehow saw us as 'equals'.
"What you're getting is the Master-Subordinate type, the ones where you would usually evolve after naming."
"Aren't you afraid of this act backfiring? There's a reason why even Demon Lords pay attention to who they give Names to." The old one countered and brought up a logical point.
I thought for a brief moment, before deciding to reveal this, "No, I'm not, because I've come up with a method of naming a monster using the magicule in the air."
It was a method developed by [Magicule] in conjunction with [Metaphysics]. I would literally extract magicule from the surrounding environments, but if I name too many or too powerful creatures, I would deplete the environment of magicules for sometimes centuries.
There's a bit of irony in how naming monsters would cause their habitat to decrease.
I closed my eyes and then placed my arms to the side like an individual about to tell someone that it was impossible to do as they requested, "but, the downside of such a way of naming is that there's less of a connection between the Named and the one who named them. However, I think you would like that, wouldn't you?"
Unlike the adventurers, even in spite of my 'kind' acts, the ogres were still rather frosty towards me. The pink one acted as though she couldn't decide on whether to be friendly or to be frosty, while the old one spoke only when required.
The red one bared his teeth in naked hostility while the purple one had a conflicted look in her eyes. The black one was obviously afraid of me even when I was the one who reattached his arm.
Wait a minute— on the outside, my face didn't change, but internally I had a revelation. The black one wielded a hammer, and since when I was in the A.A.A. I looked probably the most like some kind of humanoid insect. He probably thought crushing damage could go through my armor, just like how maces were one of the most popular weapons in Medieval Europe since they're better against armor than swords.
Smart. I don't give enough credit to the people of this world.
The old one looked around for confirmation before continuing, "Of course, we would accept..."
I felt a smile descend upon my face, "perfect—"
"—under one more condition."
[Silenced Emotion: 50%]
For god's sake, what more condition could you possibly want?!?! I mentally screamed inside my head. The current draft of the contract was the 49th for fuck's sake! Are you not mentally exhausted by this back and forth?
On the outside, [Acting] restrained my outburst so I appear ever as friendly. My hands came together, with each finger touching its parallel on the other hand.
"What is it?"
From my tone, no one would tell the frustration I've kept bottled up deep within the recesses of my mind.
"We still don't trust you. So we'd like you to agree to a geas and answer some of our questions truthfully."
A geas is a special kind of magic that forces all parties to act out a set of previously agreed-upon terms and conditions. A geas can only be formed when both parties are willing, know what is happening and the implications, and are in a proper state of mind, meaning that a person under the effect of drugs, alcohol, excessive emotion, mind control magic, and other coercive measures will not be bound by the geas.
The ideal contract basically.
That magic is one of the oldest ones in existence, as old as the written record itself, and arguably the oldest form of mental magic. Historians in the West believe before Dwargon, people used geas as a type of 'currency' since it recorded an obligation that two or more parties must fulfill.
However, that's not what's most interesting. The most interesting part of this geas was its power.
This mental magic spell could bind any two individuals no matter their differences in power. This means that the lowest peasants can bind the highest kings, and that's why geas are used so sparely: there's an aura of taboo around it since it's unbreakable, and it's only used for the most important of contracts.
I stared at them, my smile disappeared into a neutral expression, and the friendly atmosphere around me was wiped away. My eyes, guided by [Psychology], [Biology], and other sociology-related specialties, tried to find any evidence of a joke.
"I can do that. But I reserve the right to say no to certain questions that would put me or Tempest in harm."
"So be it." The old one pulled out a scroll. Flattening the scroll against the table, the white ogre pulled out a bit of his katana and cut himself on the finger.
Dripping droplets of blood onto the scroll, "I, the eldest among the survivors of the ogre village, a nameless monster, hereby propose a geas among two people, where I, shall ask questions that the other must answer truthfully to the best of their abilities, but they have the choice to refuse if the answer to such a question will invariably lead to harm against the entity known as Scientia Tempest and the Jura Tempest Republic. This contract shall last..."
"15 minutes."
"For the next 15 minutes and can be ended early."
The blood on the scroll disappeared.
"Your turn," the old one said as he pushed the scroll to me.
Looking down at the parchment, I carefully examined everything that was on the geas scroll with [Magicule], [Magic], and [Negotiation] dissecting everything about it.
I was returned with an all-clear. It was watertight.
Still, I felt nervous. This was an unbreakable contract, a limitation upon my free will itself.
My hands gripped the edge of the scroll tightly. The things I do for superhuman bodyguards. I've spent too much into this group, I can't back out now, not when I'm so close.
"Door me, to my kitchen knife." A small pitch-black rectangle appeared above my outstretched hand and a titanium alloy knife sharp enough to pierce my skin fell through and into the palm of my awaiting right hand.
Normal iron weapons don't even possess the ability to pierce my new physiology's skin. Even small-arm fire would cause difficulties, which is one of the reasons why I call Shizue a superhuman.
Pressing the cutting edge into the space between my left hand's thumb and index, I pushed forward and a feeling of sharp pain later, droplets of scarlet emerged around the knife.
That was all done without any hesitation on my part.
Holding the wound above the geas, I let the blood flow before announcing, "I, Scientia Tempest, hereby agree to this geas."
The scroll glowed a bright purple before vanishing entirely in a way that seemed to violate the Conservation of Mass.
I felt SOMETHING descend. It was a feeling, a new almost indescribable feeling coursing through my body akin to how sound waves echo through the walls inside a canyon.
"It is done." The elder spoke with a sense of finality in his voice.
"Well then," my confidence returned, "what is it that you wish to know?"
The red one went first, "Who are you?"
"I am Scientia Tempest, Director of Research and Development of the Jura Tempest Republic, owner of the Blueprint Auction House."
"What is this place?" This time, it was the purple one who spoke up.
"This city is the capital of the newly founded nation the Jura Tempest Republic, called 'Metropolis'. It was named as such because it is the start of a new geopolitical superpower."
Everything seemed good so far.
"Why do you want to employ us so much?" The usually quiet blue one had asked.
"I want you to work for the Republic. The Republic follows the ideals of liberty, equality, fraternity, and rationality, different from the rest of this backwater continent of feudalism and authoritarianism. Well primarily, I want you all to serve as my personal bodyguard, to defend me when my true nature is revealed."
I've already told the white one the false story, so he should've already spread it around with the group based on how close they were. What's more, even if I'm asked about my true nature, I can always refuse to answer since that counts as harm.
Unlike the last time I met with the natives of this world, I'll continue to be in control of this situation.
"What is your true nature?" The pink asked.
My true nature is that of a runaway homunculus—
"My true nature is that—ack"
I tightened the muscles around my throat to prevent air from escaping. My mouth went ajar due to the muscle tightening.
"That... of..."
I can still feel myself trying to say that I'm a Perfect Homunculus. What the hell? Is that not information that would harm me?
No! I'm not telling these people who might not even accept that I'm a Perfect Homunculus! How in the ever-loving hell is this considered 'unharmful'? If it got out, the entirety of the world would descend upon me in an attempt to end a second Perfect Homunculus!
"A... Per— hrk!"
There was a single frantic movement.
There was a single shine of metal.
There was a single squirt of crimson.
There was a single wet noise of flesh being pierced.
Without thinking too clearly, as I was restricting my airway, my hands reached for the titanium alloy knife and stabbed it into my throat. I was desperate to not let information out.
Very quickly, the knife had only stopped once the tip had hit the spine. Blood spewed forth like water from a burst dam, flooding both my trachea and my lungs as well as dying the metal knife and my hands a shade of crimson.
I fell to the floor. The pain from the fall was overshadowed by the pain in my neck, and the taste of iron filled one side of my mouth. The dark floor didn't do anything to hide the blood that was pooling around me.
"Hrk!"
I'm drowning in my own blood.
I think I heard some sounds that resembled a woman screaming out in horror and some that sounded similar to the rumbling of chairs as they were dragged across the floor. I can't pay attention to it because there's a fucking knife in my throat.
I could feel my right arm shakily move without my command. The right hand squished my throat wound and squeezed out more blood like an artist squeezing on a tube of paint. Then, the hand moved, and started the write the letter 'P', then 'E' using the 'paint'.
CANCEL! I wanted to say, but all that came out was a wet guggle since my larynx, also known as the 'voice box' had a hole through it.
I was halfway done writing 'R' when I stopped.
Quickly, I pulled the knife out of my throat in a single movement, I slightly grimaced at the intense pain.
The room was filled with the sounds of my loud cough as I attempted to get rid of all the blood that was currently inside my lungs. Having those liquids inside my lungs gave me the same feeling as water: a burning sensation deep inside my body.
If I was still human, I would undoubtedly be dead right now. It was weird having an open larynx. Not only was blood coming out of my mouth with each cough, but there was also air coming in and out of the hole in my neck.
However, the coughing was a futile endeavor as the source of the blood— my self-inflicted wound— was still open and bleeding rapidly.
God damn it, why can't I regenerate as fast as Rimuru's [Rapid Regeneration]?
Constantly coughing up freshly spilled blood was certainly an experience I can safely say I've never had before.
Looking over at the ogres, I realized the tears in my eyes from all the coughing made my vision blurry. I was about to try and wipe away those droplets before realizing my clothes were ruined by blood and my hand was even more useless.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I continued to cough in reflex before feeling something leave my eyes.
Done.
Opening them again, I found that I could see clearly now at long last. Turning my gaze toward the ogres, I saw how the red one covered the pink one in a protective, brotherly embrace. Such a sight caused small feelings of jealousy within me as I was reminded again of what I lost.
Kathy.
My coughs were less frequent now, fortunately at least.
The red one looked at me with an expression that screamed fear. The others' faces showed wariness and shock with widened eyes at the unnatural sight in front of them; a homunculus surviving what should've been lethal. The black one in particular looked queasy and sick.
To them, I must be like a real-life terminator, rising up even after taking a shotgun blast to the chest.
The coughing finally subsided as my throat fully healed with no evidence of the wound ever existing. I was once tempted to test the limit of this supposedly 'limitless' regeneration Skill but that'll be like a person poking an electric socket with forks made out of various metals to test which is conductive.
[Silenced Emotion: 90%]
I wordlessly returned my seat to its upright position before sitting down as if the past five minutes of a very stressful situation didn't happen, as if the frontal portion of my clothing didn't look like it had gone through a dye factory, as if I don't look like a cannibal given how my mouth was dyed with streaks of blood, my blood.
"Shall we start again?"
They didn't reply. The ogres continued to stare at me as if I was an exotic animal.
You'd think being in a world with magic and superhuman abilities like Skills the ogres would be more accepting of strange occurrences.
I cleared my throat again, and a shot of pain erupted from a single point inside my lung causing me to rub my lower chest. Seems like even after I coughed out all the blood, the tissue lining my lungs is still irritated.
Glancing at the black one that looked like he was about to puke, I grabbed a trash can from nearby and brought it up, "if you want to puke, please do it at the washroom or here."
"We..." the red one spoke, "we've decided. Given how far you're willing to keep your secrets... you are the type of person that would sacrifice all of us without a second thought if it'll advance your goal. We will be mere pawns to you. So no, we don't accept this contract. We would rather die than be under your 'employment'."
"..." If I was a vindictive person, I think I'd have captured them right in this instant and have them tortured. The number of creative ways of causing pain with [Inspired Inventor] would put even the best gore and snuff-film enthusiasts feel queasy.
In fact, without [Silenced Emotion] turned up so high, I think I might've lost control when the red one refused and insinuated some rather reputation-damaging facts and did something regrettable.
"Very well, you have until sundown tomorrow to pack your stuff and leave. I offer you good luck in your endeavor of vengeance against whoever annihilated your village."
As I watch them leave, I realized this transaction was just a failed deal. At the end of the day, it's just business.
_____________________________________________
[Only One]- Perfection demands uniqueness. Thus, there can be only one Perfect Homunculus in existence, since if there's another, then the Perfect Homunculus can no longer be called Perfect.
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