I Picked Up the Hero Who Banished Me - Chapter 32



31 – [Just the Hero and Me – 16]

I was from the slums.

I don’t know how I survived my childhood.

Did I have parents?

Or did someone take pity on a child and protect me?

I don’t really know, but at least from the time I had memories, I had no choice but to live alone.

It was one of those days.

A friend I worked with in the slums was suddenly dragged to the capital. I roughly knew the reason why, but the look on his face when he was taken was one of genuine revulsion, so I was worried.

No matter how much we stuck together for each other’s benefit, we’d shared life and death for years, and even if I didn’t like him, I’d grown attached.

In the end, I went to the capital.

There wasn’t really any other reason.

At least in that moment, the only person I could call a friend was him, and I thought he must be suffering in that suffocating capital.

So that’s how I left the slums for the first time, heading to the capital, showing everyone the typical look of a country bumpkin gaping at every new thing.

I was lucky.

Arriving in the capital alive was practically a miracle.

And another stroke of luck came my way.

I found my friend quickly.

But he looked happy.

He seemed to be eating well, he was wearing fancy clothes and seemed to be living well.

“Well, that’s that then.”

That was the only thought that flashed through my mind in that moment.

I’d thought it would be alright the second I saw it.

If it was being dragged to that capital and suffering, I would’ve tried to save it, but if it was genuinely laughing and enjoying itself, there wasn’t any real reason for me to interfere.

It had money.

It had food.

It had clothes.

A life with everything – it was a little bit enviable, but it wasn’t mine, so it was fine.

Back to the slums.

Or, did I even need to go back?

Should I just live out here?

I was caught up in those thoughts, when –

“Huh? What’s this?”

It was the moment I was wondering what to do now, since I was finished at the capital.

Suddenly, my body went numb, and I couldn’t move.

And then.

“Not one of the capital’s kids. Perfect, let’s take it.”

I was dragged away, without understanding a thing.

*

Artificial Spirit Experiments.

A spirit wielder’s talent is something you’re born with.

If you don’t have the innate ability to commune with spirits, you can’t become one, but spirit wielders were a versatile force, able to handle a variety of situations.

That’s why people thought:

Could we artificially create that talent?

If the ability to commune is so important, then what if we forcibly enhance that ability after birth?

That seemed to be the idea.

“Kuh, hfft! Uh!”

That’s how the core was embedded in my chest.

At first, I thought someone would come to save me. Surely, people wouldn’t allow such an unethical experiment targeting young children.

But that was my mistake, the experiment was being conducted with the permission of high-ranking nobles.

Maybe even the king knew about it.

At the very least, it wasn’t a situation where I could expect anyone’s help.

“…….”

Living in the slums, I thought I knew human malice well. But the malice in the slums and the malice here felt like two different breeds.

The malice I felt in the slums stemmed from a kind of fear – wouldn’t it cause harm to oneself?

I think it was closer to people, struggling to survive each day, becoming sharp and cold, their hearts hardened not to give up their own gains.

But this malice was pure, unadulterated evil.

They rejoiced at the data they obtained from my suffering.

‘How many died?’

During that experiment, others besides me were brought in.

There were kids like me, too.

They took everyone, old folks, women, even strong men, without discrimination, and then they were gone.

I guess I must have had some talent.

Me and one other guy were the only ones who survived with two spirit cores embedded in our chests; everyone else died, unable to endure even one.

It was a day when I thought, “Is this it? Am I just gonna die like this?”

“The spirit-communication ability has increased astoundingly! This is a success!”

“But the reactions are just too different for each person. Aside from those two kids, no one can withstand the cores. Orders have come down from above. It seems this is a failure, and the experiment is being halted.”

“Foolish! Just a little more and…”

“These are orders. You know what happens if you disobey…”

“Grah!”

They’d done all sorts of experiments on us, but it seemed they were just the tail end.

Where was the head, and what were they up to?

I felt resentment, but I didn’t know where to even grab hold of it, so I just went numb.

No motivation.

I just wanted these painful days to end quickly.

“We can’t give up! Soon, there will be an era where anyone can use spirit magic!!”

“Oh? So you’re defying my orders?”

“…Hah, Duke! You’ve arrived!”

Duke.

Must be someone high up.

Is this the one who spearheaded this inhumane experiment?

He’s older than I thought.

Just looking at his face, I wouldn’t have believed he was the one behind it.

Guess you really can’t trust a person’s appearance.

“That b*stard.”

“……”

I turned, startled.

The kid chained beside me, his eyes were bleeding. We used to talk in the beginning, but at some point, he just stopped speaking altogether.

I’d talk to him sometimes, trying to keep him from losing his mind, but it seemed he couldn’t hold on.

He doesn’t react to anything now, just stares at people with eyes that seemed to beg for death.

Blood streamed from his eyes, and for the first time in ages, it seemed like a light had returned to them.

“I was quite intrigued by the profession of spirit mage and sponsored this, but it’s meaningless. There’s no return on investment for the risk, wouldn’t you say?”

“Duke, please calm yourself. There have been results.”

“A technique that can’t be applied to everyone is just luck. Only two children survived? Is that a result? I’m afraid people may begin to doubt. The risk is too great, but the results are too low. Enough, this experiment ends here.”

The experiment…is it over?

Is it freedom?

But what kind of freedom?

We are proof of their evil.

They’d never let us live.

That’s what I thought, but the kid beside me, it didn’t seem like that for him.

“Huh? …P-put me free? I can get out?”

That was hope.

Hope bloomed within a feeling that had been close to rage and hatred. It wasn’t like it hadn’t sparked within me too, but I thought the possibility was low.

I thought I was in better shape, but I had completely lost the will to live.

A worthless life in the slums anyway.

I lived thinking, “I might as well die,” each and every time.

And having been subjected to all sorts of unethical experiments, my heart was already broken, and I had lost most of my will to live.

“Those children, are they?”

“Yes, that is correct…”

“Dispose of them, leave no corpse behind.”

“Huh?”

The child next to me opened their eyes wide at those words.

It seemed they were trembling at the thought of being killed again, the hope of being saved having vanished.

A flame.

Flickered.

“W-what is that!”

The flame was visible to the eyes of the people as well.

“Fool! They should be wearing magic-sealing cuffs to prevent them from using spirit magic!”

Magic-sealing cuffs certainly blocked all sorts of magic that arose from within.

But a spirit’s very existence *was* magic.

The magic-sealing shackles, designed to prevent the flow of magic, didn’t stop its creation; they merely hindered its circulation.

Besides, they were made for human criminals, so, naturally, they were useless against him, who had become a spirit himself.

And.

Then.

*Fwooosh!*

Flames erupted, engulfing the area.

*

“Ugh, *cough*! *Huurk!*”

The sound of crackling fire filled the space as I pushed myself up. The area was charred black, and though I was burned, I was alive.

Whether it was some survival instinct that pushed me to merge with a spirit, or I’d gained a natural resistance to fire regardless, the wounds I suffered were minimal compared to the devastation around me.

Maybe that runaway kid hadn’t wanted me to die as badly as the rest.

“……”

The prison door had been reduced to ash, the shackles too.

The people as well.

In the midst of all the charred remains, someone was kneeling over a single corpse.

*Thud.*

*Thud.*

They were striking the already dead Duke’s body with their fists.

They themselves were deeply burned.

The scars, far worse than mine, were a horrifying black, and the figure was a far cry from the image I had of him.

As I pulled myself up, he finally seemed to notice I was there, turning his head and offering a strained smile.

That smile, peculiar to broken people, was impossible to return.

Slowly.

He came toward me.

“You’re alive, then.”

Thud.

Those were his last words.

I couldn’t grasp the meaning behind them.

Was it relief that I was alive?

Or shock that I had survived even in this situation?

Perhaps regret that we hadn’t died together, where we would have been happier?

I couldn’t know the true feelings of this stranger.

“Hkk…”

I pushed myself up and moved.

I don’t know what emotions I held.

I don’t know what face I was supposed to make.

I just stumbled outside, realizing I was in a dense forest.

It was raining.

From noble mtl dot com

And I ran from that spot, as if fleeing.

My survival instinct wasn’t weakened, in fact I think I ran for my life.

It was just so agonizing that I think I just threw away ‘the hope of being able to live.’ The hope sparked, and my heart hammered.

There was no one in this world who could accept death.

There were just people for whom dying was easier than living.

People who chose death because living was scarier than death.

“Uck, *cough.*… *ugh*.”

The burns were severe, and there was nothing I, still a child, could do.

My strength was completely gone, and I lay collapsed on the ground, taking awkward breaths.

Time passed.

The rain poured, and it got colder and colder.

“Well, well, a little kid.”

“…”

I lifted my head and saw a grown woman who looked like she worked at a bar.

“You alive, kid?”

That was it.

That was the moment I met Madam Florence.