Chapter 96: The Breeder (2)

Everything was a performance by the Apostle to entertain God. Without Vegetable Consciousness, Ion might have been overwhelmed by confusion.

“Why did the Apostle delay your realization?” Ion asked.

“To give me time to adapt to this world. That way, I could perform my Breeder role more naturally,” Teacher replied.

You understand now, don’t you? The real <hunter and hero> isn’t just what I told you. You thought the story went off track because some defied the Breeder, but that’s not true. Ilon and Saon creating D-NATE, the sudden giant outbreak in Moniti Dungeon, Earth and Mines forming an alliance through Ilon, and the war with giants in Idea—all part of the true story. The Apostle set major events, so minor details may vary, but every major incident up to you coming here was preordained.

“What about the novel’s ending? Is that not what you told us either?” Ion asked.

“No need to worry there. Jinseongha and Sara Harunda defeating the Demon King—that ending is unchanged. They’re still the protagonists, and you’re still residue.”

“But Ilon and Saon forming D-NATE to defy you was part of <hunter and hero>, right? Then I’m not residue—I’m a supporting character,” Ion countered.

“You… Dam Ion… Ilon, Saon, Daon, Seon, Yeon—all my pupils had roles, but you, Ion, are still residue. I told you things I didn’t share with the others because you had no role, a freely usable piece.”

“…” Ion fell silent.

Now, if you understand, listen on. I’m meant to raise NPCs, so when the upheaval comes, the Apostle will reclaim me. It’s too short a time to raise great NPCs. So, I used the Apostle’s power to split my soul. I divided it into two: the Teacher who raised you was the first, and the Breeder with the hahoe mask and butterfly mask was the second.

I did well. Both souls were successfully breeding when… I caught a disease. Inevitable, since both souls existed simultaneously and shared memories.

Curious about the disease? It’s an ancient, notorious illness with no cure: love. I came to love my pupils.

“Ever heard of ‘thigmomorphogenesis’?” Saon asked.

Jinseongha, examining a dusty parka, turned. Saon was fiddling with a grimy plant saucer. They were in Ion’s house, its dust revealing the owner’s long absence.

“First time hearing it. What’s it mean?” Jinseongha asked.

“Frequent contact stresses plants, causing abnormal growth, like increased volume. People intentionally touch plants to trigger this,” Saon explained, meeting Jinseongha’s eyes with a cold, purple gaze. “That man treated Onon differently from the dozens of orphans. Not with care, but harsher, so harsh even we brainwashed kids felt resentment.”

When others rested, Ion trained brutally. When others ate, Ion fasted. Ion was often taken out, likely for more brainwashing and abuse.

“I once asked why he was so harsh on Onon. Guess what he said?”

“…”

“He said it was love. He wanted to make his beloved Ion grow.” Saon laughed bitterly, setting the saucer down. “I wanted to scream that he knew nothing of love, but I was too scared. If I saw him now, I’d curse him as a psychotic child abuser.”

“…” Jinseongha didn’t react much, just released the crumpled parka and closed the wardrobe. The more he heard, the clearer it was: the Breeder was a vile criminal. If present, Jinseongha would’ve drawn his sword without hesitation. Good thing he’s dead. That boy doesn’t need to hear more of that abuser’s nonsense. That’s the one silver lining.

“You… loved your pupils? Like… romantically?” Ion asked.

“Not that kind of love. Agape—selfless love. Context, Ion. You’re usually quick. Tch. If this weren’t the mental realm, I’d raise my whip,” Teacher said.

“…” How’s that love? Threatening to whip me? Ion was baffled.

“Loving my pupils, I created a third soul, unplanned, with a special purpose: escaping fate. The third soul returned to a time before I split, using immense power that nearly stripped my divinity, making further splits impossible.”

The third soul tried persuading the pre-split “me,” but failed. The “me” living as Noishe Dideiv thought the third soul was deranged from time-space travel. Hence, Teacher’s letter to his prized pupil labeled the Breeder “dangerous.”

“While evading my own pursuit, I found Sevi. I meant to pass by, leaving the egg to rot in the canyon… but I picked it up. I shouldn’t have cared, but knowing love made it impossible. You’ve met Sevi—how cute and lovable they are.”

Teacher sighed deeply.

“The Apostle will come for me someday. If Sevi catches their eye, they won’t survive. Dragons aren’t suited for NPCs, so they’d be eliminated. I had to leave Sevi…”

The third soul, rejecting fate, entrusted itself to the World Tree, becoming one with it to hide in its mental realm, beyond the Apostle’s gaze, despite knowing it would collapse.

Ion reflected. Shocking, yet unsurprising. Nothing changed—the novel’s ending, his role as residue, all confirmed. But he needed clarity on “love.”

“Teacher,” Ion said.

“Ion.”

Speaking simultaneously, as usual, Teacher ignored Ion. “I always told you to fulfill my wish. It’s not for the world to follow the novel’s ending. My wish is…”

His intense gaze pierced Ion. The Apostle will do anything to relieve God’s boredom. The Demon Realm is collapsing, countless lives lost, injected with madness like lab subjects. To entertain God, they spread insanity, built the System, killed, and awakened people. This world is their ‘Arabidopsis.’ I, the Breeder, raised it for their experiment. But now, I, their loyal servant, have a wish.

“My wish is for this world to escape the Apostle. Only you can fulfill it, Ion.”

Escape the Apostle. Free the Arabidopsis from experimentation. Grant true freedom to pitiful creatures deluded into thinking they have free will. Fitting for a Breeder—caregiving stems from affection.

“I need to clarify something,” Ion said.

“Speak.”

“You… really felt… affection for your pupils?” Ion asked, voice skeptical, green eyes doubtful.

Teacher cleared his throat. “The first me was cold. I understand your doubt.”

No apology or regret—because he felt none. Ion didn’t want one either.

“But the second me was a better mentor. I had more followers than you orphans—six, all so adorable.”

“Only three stayed. The others fled,” Ion pointed out.

“You found that out already…?” Teacher looked sheepish, then brazen. “The point is, I let them escape. The first me killed runaways—hanged one, poisoned another for ‘resistance training.’ But the second me let them go. Huge progress, born of affection.”

“Wasn’t it because their forming Hahoe was part of <hunter and hero>’s plan?” Ion asked.

“Sure, Hahoe’s part of it, but they escaped earlier than planned. My leniency and love caused that deviation.”

“That’s leniency and love? Like calling kimchi in boiled water kimchi stew?” Ion quipped.

“Jealous? Accept it like your beloved plants. Besides, your group, my first pupils, contributed to my affection for the second. You were especially special, Ion.”

Ion stayed silent. Teacher frowned, his rugged face and thick brows turning goblin-like with anger. In the past, Ion would’ve apologized instantly, but not under Vegetable Consciousness.

“The third me progressed further, treating a young dragon well. Sevi clung to me, saying, ‘Master, pat me,’ ‘play hide-and-seek,’ ‘draw me.’ Check with Sevi if you don’t believe me,” Teacher said confidently.

“No need. I know. I barely stopped Sevi from entering to come here,” Ion said.

“Sevi’s out there…” Teacher’s voice dripped with longing, a warmth absent when speaking of other pupils, his gray eyes softening with a rare smile.

Ion fell silent. No orphan would believe this.