The Chosen One

Mizuki quietly waited for Heyan to make up his mind.

In these physical clones, Mizuki saw reflections of himself. He naturally felt sympathy for those of his kind. Though he remained deeply wary of them, he also saw them as one possible path he himself might have taken astray.

Whenever he thought of their incomplete lives, he could not help being far more tolerant of their unconventional actions, so long as they did not affect his plans.

"When I woke up, I knew what you intended to do. I just didn't expect the research to have progressed this far only a short time after my death. It really is surprising."

Heyan's Impure World Reincarnation body surveyed the sealing barrier around them with dawning understanding.

"As for any demands you might have, it doesn't matter. Waking from the boredom of death, saying a few words, moving around a little... that's already quite nice!"

It was not that Heyan lacked desires. He simply knew that the only thing he truly wanted was resurrection—and that was precisely what Mizuki could not possibly grant him.

"If possible, I really would have liked to live out a complete life. Even when I was alive, I often envied Yukimura, that guy!"

Heyan's words left Mizuki speechless. Though he had given his physical clones independent personalities, the memories of Mizuki he had forcefully bestowed upon them were also a double-edged sword.

Their souls were independent, but their bodies and minds remained bound by the original body. They were not puppets on strings, yet they were no more than kites firmly tethered to the threads in Mizuki's hand. They seemed to fly high and far, but that was all there was to it.

This was the price they paid for their limited freedom. Mizuki could not possibly let