UNKILLABLE IN ISEKAI: Volume 2

Chapter 123: Kokoro - Part 5

The following morning, the villagers and I gathered in the central square, where the remnants of the previous day’s destruction still lingered—charred wood, crumbled stone, and the faint, bitter scent of ash. Despite the physical scars on the village, there was a sense of resilience in the air. Grandma Haruko and Kokoro stood at the forefront, leading the assembly with calm determination.

The meeting was called to discuss the village’s rebuilding efforts, but it was clear that the destruction wasn’t the only thing on everyone’s minds. Though the villagers spoke of repairing homes and fortifying defenses, their eyes kept drifting toward me—curious, questioning, awestruck.

I could feel their unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air.

They couldn’t ignore what had happened the day before. The way I had stopped Noboru’s cataclysmic attack without so much as a transformation, the cosmic energy that had radiated from me, and most of all—the impossible. I had revived Grandma Haruko when all their efforts had failed.

It was etched on their faces, even if their voices remained silent.

Though I had explained everything to Grandma Haruko and Kokoro the night before, I could see it in the villagers’ eyes—they needed answers too.

Finally, one of them spoke up. An elder, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

“Who are you, really? And how did you bring Grandma Haruko back when none of us could?”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, their gazes fixed on me with a mix of awe and uncertainty. Before Grandma Haruko or Kokoro could respond, I stepped forward, raising a hand to signal them to let me speak. They exchanged a glance, then nodded, giving me the floor.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their expectations.

“My name,” I began, my voice steady and clear, “is Joseph Benjamin Carmen. But you can call me JBC.”

The crowd listened intently, the silence thick with anticipation.

“I’m what you might call an otherworlder—or, in some cases, an outworlder. I’m fused with different versions of myself across diverse realms, each one with its own unique path, strengths, and knowledge. My journey has taken me through countless worlds, dimensions, and timelines, each one shaping me into who I am today.”

I paused, letting my words sink in. The villagers’ expressions were a mix of fascination and confusion.

“I know some of this might sound impossible,” I continued, “but your world isn’t as isolated as you think. The multiverse is real. Infinite dimensions exist alongside your own, some mystical, others scientific, and many… dangerous.”

I reached for the XPT on my chest, feeling its faint pulse against my skin. I detached it, holding it up for them to see as it shimmered in the morning light.

“This,” I said, “is the XPT—a sentient magic-tech prototype. It’s a fusion of advanced technology and mystical energy, capable of things you might consider impossible. Yesterday, it allowed me to revive Grandma Haruko, but even this device has its limits. It’s powerful, yes, but not infallible.”

The villagers leaned in, their eyes wide with wonder as I explained the XPT’s capabilities and limitations. I told them how it was only a fragment of its full potential, how it had merged with Akakawa’s tech, and how, despite all that, reviving Grandma Haruko had pushed it to its limits, forcing it into recharge mode.

Some of them marveled in awe, their faces lit with excitement at the revelation. But not everyone was convinced.

I could see the skepticism in the eyes of a few—a lingering doubt about my motives, despite everything I’d done. Even revealing the XPT, letting them see it and hear it communicate, wasn’t enough to erase all their suspicion.

It made sense.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much of the unknown I represented to them. Katsuragi, Victory Empire, and its surrounding regions were steeped in magic and mystical arts. They were the birthplace of all things magical, and yet here I was—an outsider wielding power that defied even their understanding.

It was only natural for them to question me.

But whether they trusted me or not didn’t matter.

I wasn’t here for their approval.

I was here to protect them.

And if they couldn’t see that now, they would soon enough.

However, the more I pondered, the clearer it became: my hypothesis about Katsuragi and its neighboring regions being oblivious to the knowledge of technology wasn’t just speculation—it was fact. What solidified this realization was recalling the words of the man from Akakawa. He had hinted that knowledge of science and technology was confined to the royal families, hidden from the general populace like some dangerous secret.

But why?

Why would something as transformative as science be kept from the people?

Then it hit me.

The royal bloodline of the Empire wasn’t just aware of science—they controlled it. They hoarded it, guarding it like a forbidden treasure, while the rest of the empire remained steeped in magic alone. Yet, even within the noble circles, there were exceptions. Naoya Hiroto—a relative of the Kazuhiro family and possibly the most powerful warrior of the Empire—wasn't oblivious to the knowledge of science. His mastery over both magic and technology made him a rare hybrid in a society that saw science as taboo.

In conclusion to my observations, only the royal family, Naoya Hiroto, and perhaps a select few trusted members of the Empire's inner circle held knowledge of both science and magic. The rest? They remained ignorant of science but deeply entrenched in magical practices.

But how could I explain this to the villagers without causing fear or confusion?

I decided to simplify it.

I told them that science and magic were almost two sides of the same coin—different in their methods but similar in their potential. I drew parallels between how magic channels energy through rituals and spells, while science manipulates the same forces through technology and innovation.

At first, they listened intently, nodding as if understanding dawned on them. But then, the atmosphere shifted.

Whispers rippled through the crowd, and I caught a word repeated among them—forbidden.

"Forbidden magic," I echoed, my brow furrowing in confusion.

Grandma Haruko nodded gravely. “Yes, it is.”

"Why is it forbidden?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm despite the tension rising in my chest.

Kokoro stepped forward, her expression serious. “Forbidden magic—what you call science—is not sanctioned by the Empire's law.”

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around that. “But people practice dark magic, chaos magic, even blood magic—all of which are forbidden in most places I’ve traveled. Why would science be considered worse?”

Kokoro sighed, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting mine again. “It’s a law decreed by the Empire. Science is seen as a dangerous knowledge that causes more harm than good. Anyone caught practicing it would be banished… or worse.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. Banished? For science?

“The Empire’s rejection of science,” Kokoro continued, “is to protect our land. Unlike the Akakawa Kingdom, where you entered from, our Empire views science as a form of forbidden magic. It defies the natural laws of magic and is seen as an inferior substitute for true power.”

"At least the Empire and Akakawa share one thing in common—settling for inferior substitutes over true power," I said with a teasing grin.

I nodded slowly, processing everything she had said. The Empire wasn’t just fearful of science—they saw it as a threat to their very way of life. To them, science wasn’t just technology; it was a dangerous force that undermined the sanctity of magic.

But I wasn’t about to let that stop me.

After a moment of silence, I looked back at the villagers, their eyes wide with anticipation, fear, and curiosity.

“Things will be different here,” I declared, my voice steady and resolute.

The villagers gasped, the weight of my words settling over them like a heavy fog.

“I’m going to take this village to the next level,” I continued, my gaze sweeping across the crowd. “With the fusion of science and magic, we’ll build something stronger, something better. A future where both can coexist—not as enemies, but as allies.”

The villagers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of awe and uncertainty. I could feel the tension in the air—the clash of tradition and the promise of change—but I also saw the spark of hope flickering in their eyes.

And that was all I needed.

Because change was coming.

And whether the Empire liked it or not, Kokoro–Heart Village would be the first to embrace it.

After shrugging off the fact that science was forbidden in this land, I felt an odd sense of freedom. Honestly, I didn’t care. Science wasn’t just a tool—it was a means to protect and improve their lives. If it could bring them safety and prosperity, then why not put it to good use? Besides, Katsuragi–Victory Empire seemed to have their hands full enforcing outdated laws. They wouldn’t notice a small village evolving under their noses... at least not yet.

The surprise was clear on their faces—Grandma Haruko and Kokoro included. Their wide eyes reflected both awe and uncertainty, as if they were witnessing something they had been taught to fear their entire lives but couldn’t help but be curious about.

I gave a subtle nod to my XPT. “Display the landscape,” I commanded.

In an instant, a holographic projection of the entire village lit up in the air above us. The villagers gasped, some instinctively reaching out to touch the glowing, translucent shapes—but their hands passed right through. They marveled at the intricate details, tracing the outlines of their homes, the forests, and the river beyond.

Now, I thought, it’s time to show them what’s possible.

I began laying out our future plans, letting the holographic map shift and evolve with my words.

“First, we’ll need to expand the village,” I announced, pointing to areas on the map where the forest crept too close. “We’ll clear out sections of the forest, driving away wild creatures, but we’ll leave enough untouched to preserve nature’s balance.”

The villagers murmured among themselves, intrigued by the vision unfolding before them.

“Next, we’ll develop proper drainage systems and bring fresh water from the river directly into the village.” I traced lines from the river to the village, showing them how water channels would flow. “With expansion, we’ll improve our plantations and vegetation. You’ll grow more food with less effort.”

Their expressions shifted from awe to hope. The promise of abundance was something they hadn’t dared to dream of before.

“Our defenses will be fortified,” I continued. “I’ll educate you on science to build roads, railways, electricity, and transportation.”

I paused, letting that sink in. The idea of light and movement powered by something other than magic was alien to them, but I could see the spark of understanding in a few eyes.

“Of course, we’ll start small,” I added. “My XPT is running on low power, only sustained by Akakawa’s tech. But it’s enough to get us going.”

When I finished laying out the plans, I could see the shift in the crowd. Doubt was slowly being replaced by excitement. Food, clean water, medicine, shelter—things they could grasp. They began to see that science wasn’t something to fear but a tool to make life better. I explained how modern medicine could supplement their magical healing, allowing them to conserve their magical energy for more serious situations. Traditional magic would always have a place, but now, they would have options.

This approach wasn’t foreign in some parts of the world. Akakawa and Shinsei were already blending magic and science, creating a life closer to what I knew from my own world. Katsuragi just hadn’t caught up yet.

But as I wrapped up the plans, my curiosity got the better of me.

“Aside from healing magic,” I asked, glancing around, “what other kinds of magic do you possess?”

The villagers exchanged puzzled looks before Grandma Haruko finally spoke. “Our magic is solely focused on healing. It’s all we’ve ever needed.”

“I see…” I thought, digesting this new information. Healing magic was powerful, yes, but it left them vulnerable in other areas.

“Then we’ll need weapons,” I declared firmly. “I’m talking firearms, blades, and more—all infused with magic.”

A ripple of shock passed through the crowd, but I pressed on.

“Men and women alike will be trained to protect themselves. You’ll learn to use the weapons I craft and invent. It’s only fair that your combat skills match your healing abilities, even as we strive for diplomacy.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air. Then, one by one, the villagers began to nod, understanding dawning in their eyes. They had seen the danger firsthand. They knew that healing alone wouldn’t protect them from the threats beyond their borders.

My words had finally convinced them.

As we finalized the meeting, we all turned our attention to the ruined surroundings—the remnants of the battle that had brought us here. But before we could begin rebuilding, there was one grim task left.

We had to dispose of Noboru and his comrades' corpses.

Together, we carried their lifeless bodies deep into the forest, far from the village. The weight of their betrayal and violence hung heavy in the air as we laid them to rest in the shadows where they belonged. Only then, with the past buried, could we turn our focus to the future.

The future of a village reborn.

Meanwhile, as night fell, deep within the forest far from Kokoro Heart Village, something unnatural stirred among the shadows. The corpses of Noboru and his comrades lay discarded, left to rot in the damp earth. But the night held secrets the villagers could never have anticipated.

Noboru, thought to be dead, suddenly gasped for air, his body convulsing violently as he clawed at the soil above him. His pale skin glistened under the moonlight, slick with sweat and dirt. His eyes snapped open, wild and bloodshot, as if pulled from the brink of death itself.

He coughed, hacking up blood and mud, before trembling fingers traced the wound where the dagger had pierced his chest. The realization struck him hard—the blade had missed his heart by mere inches. The deep scar throbbed with each beat of his heart, a painful reminder of how close he'd come to the abyss.

But pain wasn’t the only thing filling him.

Rage simmered just beneath the surface.

Turning his head, Noboru was met with a gruesome sight. His comrades’ lifeless bodies were scattered around him, grotesque in death. Flies swarmed over their hollow eyes, maggots writhed from their gaping mouths, and chunks of flesh had been ripped away by wild animals. Some were headless, others so mutilated they were barely recognizable. The stench of decay clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

Noboru clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. They did this… Joseph and that cursed village. The fire of vengeance burned brighter than any fear he might have felt.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a low, guttural growl echoing from the trees.

A monstrous figure emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing a sinister red, its grotesque form towering over Noboru. Its breath was rancid, a mix of blood and rot, and its jagged teeth glistened in the moonlight. The beast lunged forward, its growl turning into a roar as it prepared to strike.

But Noboru didn’t flinch.

Instead, he met the monster’s gaze with cold defiance.

“I’m not afraid of you,” he spat, his voice hoarse but steady. “I seek vengeance.”

The monster paused, its snarl subsiding into a curious growl. Noboru saw the flicker of recognition—or perhaps intrigue—in its eyes.

“Take me to your master,” Noboru commanded, his voice sharp, authoritative.

For a moment, the creature seemed to consider tearing him apart anyway. But Noboru’s unyielding glare held firm, and the beast, recognizing the fire of hatred burning within him, relented. With a guttural huff, it lowered itself, massive claws curling around Noboru’s frail body, and hoisted him onto its broad, sinewy shoulder.

As they delved deeper into the forest, the air grew colder, thicker, as though the trees themselves were suffocating under the weight of an ancient darkness. The moonlight barely pierced the dense canopy, and the sounds of nocturnal creatures faded into an eerie silence.

They reached a clearing cloaked in shadows, where a monstrous figure loomed—a being far more terrifying than the beast that carried him. Its eyes burned like twin infernos in the dark, and the ground trembled beneath its weight.

Noboru slid from the creature’s shoulder and stood tall, despite the lingering pain in his chest. He approached the monster boss without hesitation, his voice steady, fueled by pure, unfiltered hatred.

“I want vengeance,” Noboru declared, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Help me destroy Joseph and Kokoro Heart Village, and I will offer you something greater in return.”

The monstrous figure regarded him with silent, ominous interest. The pact they would form that night would set in motion a darkness that would soon descend upon the village—one far more sinister than anything they had ever faced.