Chapter 61. Triss: You are Klein Moretti, right?
"Boiler?" Klein's spiritual intuition was touched by this strange metaphor.
"In our world under the protection of the Seven Orthodox Gods—or rather, in Tingen, in Backlund, in all these so-called civilized cities—everyone is firmly welded into an invisible social boiler from birth."
Her voice was steady and clear, like reading a law from a mechanical maintenance manual.
"Your health, your craft, your family background, your credit, your relationships... all of these are the 'coal' you use for combustion."
"You must constantly add coal to your own boiler, let it burn, and produce steam—which is your labor, your value, the meaning of your existence—to maintain the boiler's pressure and push the machine of your life forward, so it doesn't stall, or worse, regress."
This metaphor... Klein's heart jolted.
He was not an uneducated brute; as a history graduate from modern Earth, he had a basic understanding of sociology and economics.
He instantly understood the profound meaning in her words.
For a social structure like Loen, what an accurate yet cruel metaphor!
He thought of himself, his sister and brother scrimping and saving for his tuition and living expenses—wasn't that desperately adding 'coal' to his 'boiler'?
And Klein, studying hard, entering university, finding a job, becoming a Nighthawk, gaining salary and status—wasn't that desperately producing'steam' and maintaining 'pressure' to establish a foothold in this strange world?
The Demoness ignored the complex expression that flashed across Klein's face. She continued to dissect the cold structure of this world in that emotionless tone.
Her gaze slowly swept over the human figures huddled, trembling, and moaning in the shadows of the alleyway.
"But any boiler has its design limits and its safe operating standards."
"When your 'coal' is exhausted and falls below a certain critical value due to a sudden illness, an irreparable industrial injury, a stupid investment failure, or the loss of all relatives who could provide support..."
"...your boiler can no longer generate enough steam pressure."
Her voice suddenly turned cold.
"At that point, the entire system—the creditors who once greeted you with smiles, the amiable landlords, the foremen who patted your shoulder and called you brother, even your own body—will be like an overheated boiler about to explode, starting to exert reverse, destructive pressure on you."
Klein involuntarily held his breath.
His spiritual intuition made him feel as if he could truly'see' the scene she described.
He saw invisible, 'leaking' pipes wrapped around the dying people in the alley. Those pipes once transported the energy that sustained their lives, but now, they were frantically dissipating their last breaths.
More terrifyingly, he saw more black, viscous energy representing'system pressure' flowing back into their bodies from all directions through those pipes, accelerating their collapse.
"...Critical value?" Klein squeezed out the words, feeling as if something was blocking his throat.
"Yes."
The Demoness nodded, her beautiful eyes showing no pity, only a coldness that saw through everything.
"An invisible but absolute 'critical line of pressure collapse'."
She raised her hand and pointed again at the homeless man suffering from lung disease.
"Like him. His lungs have been completely eroded by factory dust, turned into a sieve. He can no longer perform any work that can support him; his 'coal' is exhausted. The pitiful compensation he received cannot buy expensive medicine, nor can it pay the rent for a clean apartment that sees the sun."
"He has lost his final value as a 'worker.' For the operation of the social machine, he is already a piece of scrap. Therefore, the social system no longer needs him to maintain pressure."
"And so, as you see, the system's pressure begins to flow back—disease will consume his body at ten times the speed, the cold of the winter night will erode his marrow like a knife, endless hunger will torture his stomach day and night, and those debts he can never repay will tighten around his neck like a noose."
"He will be 'excreted' from the formal housing system, from the medical system, and even from the memories of the community, friends, and relatives he once knew. Eventually, he ends up here, waiting for the last screw of the worn-out machine of his body to completely fly off."
Having said this, she finally stopped.
The entire alley was deathly silent, save for the homeless man's increasingly faint gasps.
Klein felt his brain had stopped thinking.
He was not listening to a murderer's excuses; he was... attending a Judgement of this era.
The Demoness's gaze finally returned from the homeless man to Klein's face.
That gaze was calm, yet like a sharp scalpel, it cut open all of Klein's confusion and anger.
"What I have done is not murder."
"What you see as 'killing' is the last and only mercy I can give to these 'residues' crushed by the system. Their 'lives' were declared over the moment the pressure gauge of the social boiler fell below the red line."
She paused, giving the final definition of her actions.
"It is the social system, this giant, never-ending boiler, that automatically, coldly, and precisely ejects the'slag' that can no longer generate any power from the furnace."
"What I do is merely, after these glowing'slags' are ejected and are still twisting in suffering from the residual heat..."
She paused and, with an almost cruel calmness, stated the final conclusion.
"...pour a ladle of cold water over them, letting them cool down quickly and return to complete tranquility."
Slag... cold water... return to tranquility... these cold words, like heavy hammers, took turns striking Klein's nerves.
"No... that's not right..." Klein subconsciously retorted, but his voice sounded pale and weak. "Life is sacred; no one has the right to deprive..."},{