[You stood in the dim sewer, your gaze locked firmly on the remains of Great Sage, who had completely ceased functioning.]
[Your heart, once wrapped in layers of absolute reason, now churned with a complicated emotion.]
[Because in your objective understanding and higher-dimensional sight, what lay there was not some cold, lifeless thing pieced together from cotton cloth, thread, and Cursed Energy cores.]
[In the essence of his soul, he was another living individual who carried your bloodstained memories of the past and possessed a way of thinking that shared its origins with yours.]
[The so-called "Cursed Corpse" was merely a physical shell that housed his damaged soul.]
[Great Sage had been born into this world because of your will.]
[He existed to fulfill your selfish, insane "replacement plan," and it was to fight in your place in this twisted world that he had ultimately ended up in this miserable, ruined state.]
[What you truly saw now was someone who should have faced that flesh and blood and those curses in your place, performed those arduous exorcisms in your place, now lying silently before you like an executed corpse.]
[It was mental torture akin to being sliced apart piece by piece.]
[Because your logical processing center told you with utter clarity that this would certainly not end as an isolated case.]
[In the future, once you fully implemented the "Fully Independent Cursed Corpse mass-production plan," with an army of hundreds and thousands of Cursed Corpses carrying your soul information deployed nationwide.]
[You would inevitably witness casualties like these with your own eyes, again and again.]
[You would watch them numbly as they made those sacrifices for you, one after another, like tireless combat engineers.]
[If you could truly be like those cold-blooded Higher-Ups, viewing them only as ordinary assembly-line weapons,