14. Eye Drops (2)
"…A sacrifice?"
"Yeah. I was chosen as a candy offering to the god this village worships."
"Candy…?"
"That's right. The god this village believes in—that's Rin. She's an extremely picky eater. She doesn't eat proper meals. So once a day, she eats candy to sustain her existence."
I urged her silently to continue. Oto spoke softly.
"And the 'candy' of this village… takes the shape of human flesh. To make it, they need humanoid robots."
"…Then…"
I gasped.
The image of that candy shop flashed in my mind.
"The hands, eyes, and organs hanging in that shop—those were all the remains of humanoids sacrificed as offerings?"
"Exactly."
Oto nodded firmly.
"I told you Rin's a picky eater, right? She has her favorite parts—mainly the actuators in the torso. She eats those cleanly and throws away the rest. But sometimes, when she gets hungry, she eats the leftovers too. That stockpile of spare parts—that's what the candy shop really is."
"Then what about the snake-like shopkeeper?"
"She's kind, but she's one of Rin's puppets. Mind-controlled. A marionette."
"…I see."
I tried to ask more, but at that moment—Rin suddenly sprang up.
Like a corpse resurrecting from the dead.
She shot upright with the jerk of a wound-up doll and clung to my chest, grinning with madness.
"She's the bad one!" Rin screamed.
"She's a thief! She stole an Eyeball Lollipop from my candy shop!"
She grabbed my collar, shrieking.
"She's bad! She's bad! Bad kids can't stay in this village! That's why she'll be offered as a sacrifice—eaten cleanly! This time I won't be picky! This time I'll eat all of her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes! So—"
Her voice cut off sharply.
Oto had swung a baseball bat with full force into the back of Rin's head.
The blow was so strong her eyes nearly popped from their sockets.
They didn't fall out completely, but when Oto swung again—another full, merciless strike—the two eyeballs snapped free, rolling across the ground.
Wordlessly, Oto took off her shoes. Then her socks. She stood barefoot.
And with her bare foot, she crushed the eyes.
A spray of fluid burst forth—a mix of lubricant, electrolyte, and filler gel.
Like squashing a fat insect, a viscous liquid splattered in an arc, while small sparks flared from Rin's head.
"You're such an idiot," Oto spat.
Rin lay collapsed, eyeless, purple engine oil gushing from the back of her skull.
"I didn't steal an Eyeball Lollipop," Oto said calmly, "I stole an Eyeball Drop."
Then, as if finishing a home run, she tossed the bat toward the fields.
She walked up to the fallen Rin and crouched down.
The girl looked dead—or perhaps had truly ceased to function.
Oto lifted her carelessly, as if picking up a broken household appliance.
Then she slung Rin over her back.
"Let's go to the back mountain," Oto said.
Her voice was bright—too bright for someone who'd just committed violence.
She smiled, radiant and charming, like a popular high school girl.
That smile carried a power that left no room for refusal.
All I could do was nod.
With the broken humanoid girl—Rin—sparking faintly from the back of her head, Oto began to walk.
I followed behind.
The sound of cicadas grew louder.
Their voices were heat itself, thickening the air.
The dense Venusian atmosphere pressed against my body, tightening like invisible hands around my neck.
As I followed Oto's back, a strange illusion took hold of me.
It felt like watching a kind sister carrying her sleeping sibling home, while the younger one followed close behind—a peaceful hallucination.
We walked toward the back mountain.
The slope was steep, suffocating.
My breath control faltered; my internal temperature rose.
Yet Oto, despite carrying another humanoid on her back, climbed effortlessly—smooth, graceful, unbroken.
I could only chase her, desperate not to lose sight.
Deeper and deeper we went.
Only the cicadas cried.
No other sound existed.
Sound itself had turned to liquid; we swam through the water of their voices.
"We're here," Oto said.
After climbing what felt like forever, she spoke as casually as if ending a hike.
My strength gave out; I sat down.
Oto dropped Rin to the ground like a discarded sack of materials.
Dust rose softly.
I stared silently at the small body.
Oto looked around, stepping carefully, testing the ground.
The soil here was soft, the terrain flat—
A perfect place for a burial.
Her bare white feet pressed into the dirt as she checked the spot, gentle and deliberate.
Meanwhile, I realized my battery was almost depleted from the climb.
If I was going to help dig, I needed to save what little energy I had left.
I decided to enter sleep mode for a bit—but just as my consciousness dimmed, Oto suddenly looked at me.
A chill ran down my spine.
The most terrifying being in this village was no longer Rin—it was Oto.
But I couldn't show fear.
If I upset her, who knew what she might do.
So I forced a calm expression—and even smiled.
She smiled back, an artificial imitation of warmth.
That made it even scarier.
Yet somehow, the dirt on her cheeks and forehead glistened sensually in the dim light—an unexpected eroticism that unsettled me.
"Mim-kun, you're hungry, right?"
I was about to say, "I'm fine," but reconsidered.
In this situation, pretending not to need energy seemed unnatural.
"Yeah. I'm hungry. What about you?"
"I'm fine. I overate syrup at the candy shop earlier. My battery's overcharged—fifteen hundred percent."
"…You'll get fat," I muttered in disbelief.
Oto giggled, shrugging.
"Yeah, I'll need to go on a diet. Anyway, I'm not hungry at all right now. You, on the other hand, haven't eaten anything, have you?"
"Not really."
I didn't mention that I had tasted a drop of syrup from her cheek earlier.
Then she reached into her pocket, her fingers searching for something.
She pulled out a single drop—a small Eyeball Drop—and tossed it lightly to me.
I caught it and looked at her, silently asking how she got it.
She answered before I could speak.
"Swiped it from the candy shop earlier."
Her playful tone made me laugh despite everything—
a strange camaraderie, like kids sharing a mischievous secret.
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
And I truly did.
Even if it was stolen, that candy shop itself was built from the remains of sacrificed humanoids—ritual tools more than confections.
My sense of guilt was fading.
I should have prayed for the original owner of this drop—but I was too exhausted.
Without saying "itadakimasu," I put it in my mouth.
The moment it rolled on my tongue, an image burst forth—
The visual memory of the drop's original owner.
Fragmented scenery,
Venusian twilight,
someone's hand.
They flickered like static and burned into my brain.
Then, I felt a gaze.
From inside my mouth.
The eye was watching me—from within.
The shame was indescribable—
not the embarrassment of being seen naked, but of being seen from inside, through one's own organs.
I wanted to spit it out.
But I couldn't neglect my energy intake.
—Right.
I didn't have to savor it.
I bit down hard with my titanium alloy molars.
Crunch. A dull sound. A spark flickered.
The surviving visual sensor fragments dissolved into my saliva.
The foreign consciousness mingled with mine, fading.
By the time the strange sensation vanished completely, only the sweet taste of the drop remained.
I swallowed and checked my wristwatch.
Battery level—747%.
With a sigh, I murmured:
"…Looks like I'll get fat too."