Monsters exist in every world.
The Dungeon in Orario is full of them, and no one finds them particularly disgusting.
But what truly makes a god nauseous,
is the human heart.
The humans of that world were pushed to the brink of extinction by a viral organism that could only be suppressed by a specific metal called Varanium.
They could only cling to life within narrow areas enclosed by Monoliths made of Varanium.
At a time when they should have united against a common enemy,
most humans in that world instead vented their fear and anger onto a group of innocent children.
—[Cursed Children].
A group of girls with ruby-like eyes, bearing the name [Cursed Children] in this desperate world, protecting with their young bodies the very humans who scorned them.
They were humanity's last hope against the monsters.
Yet, they were seen by the humans they protected as monsters, freaks, even carriers of the virus.
Scorn, abuse, even murder, taking human selfishness, cowardice, xenophobia, and ingratitude to their absolute extremes.
Therefore,
even though he was now a god,
Heimer still did not like this world.
After all,
if one ignored the trash,
those [Cursed Children] struggling to survive in the ruins, maintaining a faint glimmer of light amidst the malice,
whether in terms of temperament, potential, or that yearning for light,
were top-tier Familia seedlings in this world.
Thinking of this,
Heimer continued to read the system's analysis report.
[Power System Assessment]:
The world's power system falls within the low to mid martial arts range.
Main threats are virus-infected organisms (Gastrea).
Conventional firearms are effective but struggle to completely eliminate high-stage monsters.
The special metal Varanium can suppress virus regeneration.
[List of High-Potential Suitable Candidates]:
[Generating list of high-potential suitable candidates...]
As the system further analyzed,
soon,
a list appeared before Heimer.
At the top,
was a photograph.
The girl in the photo wore a black sailor uniform, her long hair flowing like a waterfall. She held a long sword, her gaze as cold as ice.
[NO.1 Tendou Kisara]
[Title]: The Tendo who kills Tendo.
[School]: Holds a Menkyo Kaiden in Tendo-style Iaijutsu and created her own Zero-Type techniques.
[Characteristics]: A beauty dressed entirely in black. In her childhood, her parents were murdered by blood relatives for attempting to expose the family's corruption. She survived a Gastrea attack but lost her kidneys. She refused an artificial organ that would have allowed her to live a normal life, insisting on keeping her broken body, using the constant, shadow-like pain day and night to remind herself—the bone-deep hatred for the Tendo clan flowing in her veins.
'Feeding the devil with her own body...'
Heimer narrowed his eyes.
His gaze moved down.
The second place,
was a little girl with golden hair and blue eyes, as delicate as a doll.
[NO.2 Tina Sprout]
[Codename]: Black Wind
[Characteristics]: Has the appearance of a blonde, blue-eyed loli. Usually dazed, even prone to falling asleep during the day, requiring large amounts of caffeine pills to stay awake. At night, combat power increases significantly.
...
...
Name after name.
Face after face.
Kayo Senju, Aihara Enju, Fuse Midori...
Heimer's gaze swept across this long list of names.
Without exception.
With the exception of a few special cases, the vast majority of names on this list belonged to a common group—
—the [Cursed Children].
Girls born with blood-red eyes, physical fitness far exceeding that of ordinary people, and regenerative abilities, all due to their mothers ingesting the Gastrea virus during pregnancy.
Reasonably speaking.
The humans of this world had been pushed to the brink of extinction, forced to huddle like rats behind Monoliths made of virus-inhibiting enju metal just to survive.
In a moment of racial survival, internal unity should be the primary law of existence.
But they didn't do that.
Instead, they chose to pour all their fear, anger, despair, and hatred of their own incompetence onto the very group of [Cursed Children] who were the only ones capable of protecting them.
Simply because the eyes of those [Cursed Children] were red.
Simply because the blood of monsters flowed within those [Cursed Children].
Though it was true that those [Cursed Children] would eventually turn into monsters as the Gastrea virus erosion rate in their bodies gradually rose.
However.
It was clear.
This was not a completely uncontrollable dead end.
The government had ways to manufacture inhibitors for the Gastrea virus erosion rate.
Moreover, there was specialized equipment that could monitor the Gastrea virus erosion rate within these [Cursed Children] at any time.
It could be said that with proper management, regular checkups, and medicinal inhibition,
it was impossible for these [Cursed Children] to become monsters.
Yet, they still crudely chose to define all these [Cursed Children] as monsters.
While one could say this was a form of self-preservation born from biological instinct,
fearing the potential danger within these [Cursed Children],
in an extreme environment,
this instinct was infinitely magnified and distorted into the ugliest of atrocities.
When external pressure becomes unbearable, a group needs a vent.
They need a scapegoat.
And who could be a more suitable target than these little girls with red eyes and monster-like strength, yet human appearances?
After all.
—Kind people are bullied, and gentle horses are ridden; no matter how kind one is, one must remember their boundaries.
These [Cursed Children] were simply too kind-hearted.
Possessing power beyond humanity,
yet because of their inner purity, they could not bring themselves to slaughter the humans who bullied them like true monsters would.
It was precisely because of this purity, and that powerful strength which constantly reminded humans of their own incompetence,
that they were spurned, cursed, abused, and even murdered by humans.
While being trampled underfoot, their blood and tears were used to gild a fragile and pathetic self-esteem, and violence against them provided a meager, false sense of superiority.
—"These are heroes who, in this desperate world, have carried the name of [Cursed] since childhood, yet still shoulder the heavy burden of human survival with their most tender shoulders."
There was no doubt.
If there was any reason left for a god to cast a glance upon this world,
it was definitely not to save that group of human trash.
It was for these children who still shimmered with a faint light in the darkness.
These [Cursed Children].
They were more deserving of the title 'human' than the vast majority of surviving adults in this world.
Only...
Heimer took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning rage in his chest.
He raised his hand.
The light screen dissolved into countless points of light, dissipating into the air.
Now was not the time.
This memory had put Heimer in a very bad mood.
Extremely bad.
If he didn't calm this urge to destroy something, he feared that if he stepped through the portal and descended into that world now,
the first thing he would do wouldn't be saving people,
but directly bringing down divine punishment and leveling the place.
"Better handle today's business first and go wake Hestia up."
Heimer rubbed his brow, sorted out his emotions, stood up, pushed the door open, and left.
...
Next door on the second floor.
Heimer knocked on the door, and seeing no response, he pushed it open and entered.
Upon entering,
Heimer's brow furrowed.
He saw Hestia sprawled out in an 'X' shape on the large soft bed, her blanket having long been kicked aside.
A trace of glistening liquid even hung from the corner of her mouth.
She was sleeping completely dead to the world.
"She really has no goddess baggage at all..."
Heimer shook his head helplessly.
He walked over.
Without ceremony, he reached out and pinched Hestia's fleshy cheek, pulling it to the sides.
"Mmm... fried potato balls... don't run..."
Hestia mumbled indistinctly, her brow furrowing as if the fried potato balls in her dream were drifting away.
"Stop dreaming."
Heimer said irritably in her ear.
"It's time to eat."
"If you don't get up now, I'm going to let you starve today."
"Nani?!!"
This sentence worked like a charm.
Hestia, who had been dead asleep a moment ago, suddenly snapped her large sapphire-like eyes open.
She bounced straight up from the bed.
Before she could even see her surroundings clearly, her body instinctively fell into a panicked defensive posture, like a cat that had its tail stepped on.
Her blue eyes were wide and darting around.
Until.
Her gaze finally focused on Heimer, who was standing by the bed.
Hestia froze for a moment.
Once she realized what was happening, her tensed body finally relaxed slightly.
She let out a sigh of relief.
She slumped back down like a deflated balloon.
Raising her hand, she rubbed her still-dazed head; her already messy twin tails were now as tangled as a bird's nest.
She let out a massive yawn.
"Ha—ah—"
Her mouth opened wide enough to fit an egg.
After yawning,
Hestia seemed completely unaware of how terrible she looked right now.
She naturally raised her arm and wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, cleaning away the trace of saliva that hadn't dried yet.
"Morning... Heimer..."
Her voice was thick with sleepiness, soft and waxy.
"Really... what time is it..."
"Can't you let me sleep a bit longer?"
"I was exhausted yesterday..."
Heimer raised an eyebrow.
His gaze swept over Hestia without any reservation.
From her messy hair to her shapeless pajamas, and finally landing on the blanket kicked into a heap on the floor.
"..."
Then, Heimer silently pointed to the pile of blanket on the floor.
"..."
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