760
20 hours earlier, Southern Continent.
"Why is there no heartbeat? Oh, did I forget to put the heart in?"
At that, Edward lowered his head to glance at the blackish-red mass two meters away, something that ought to have been censored no matter what work it appeared in, then turned back, not particularly wanting to speak.
A while later, when the corpse began trying to tie its intestines into a sailor's knot, Edward finally could not help himself:
"I've already given you structural information on every life-form on this planet. Can't you follow it when putting yourself together?"
"I could."
The corpse stopped fiddling with his intestines. There was nothing above his neck, and blood that was none too fresh had congealed on the uneven stump. Despite not even having a head, he kept groping over the ground around him, searching for what belonged in his empty chest and abdominal cavities:
"But exploring the bodily structure of carbon-based organisms is also an interesting process... Their bodies are so frail, with far too many weaknesses, and parts cannot simply be replaced. It fits my basic impression of carbon-based life."
"No, carbon-based organisms don't seem to be supposed to speak like this... Vocal cords. Pass me the vocal cords on the ground over there. Thanks."
Edward kicked over something else that ought to have been censored with the toe of his shoe. The corpse was not annoyed. He deftly picked it up, examined it for a few seconds, and cleared out the black blood clots inside.
He connected the vocal cords to the stump of his neck. After a bout of indistinct, halting murmurs, the vocal cords produced a strange, pleasant voice whose precise age and gender were impossible to distinguish:
"Not having a vessel has its benefits. There's so much