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I Hate Systemschapter 47: the seed a system plants at the start of the story

It was a chilly night as a cold breeze swirled around, creating hooting sounds as it moved through the alleyways. Standing in an inconspicuous alley, his face covered, and leaning on the wall was Parlut.

He sighed, gazing at the sky as he looked at the giant moon in the sky, muttering silently, "That's at least ten times bigger than the one on Earth."

He then looked at his appearance, walking through the alleys as he covered his face further with the top hat, moving slowly, looking like he was about to die soon. He made his way towards a dim street, one that seemed to have been erratically built as more people settled at the place unlawfully.

A group of thugs roamed about, smoking something that seemed to have been a liquid of sorts. The liquid boiled around while they inhaled it from time to time, intoxicated by the substance as they chuckled.

Their figures were covered with faint traces of blood and filth. Currently, they were making crass jokes with one another, laughing lecherously as a result. But, upon seeing Parlut making his way towards them, or rather towards the building behind them, they snickered, making eye contact with one another.

One by one, they got up and surrounded Parlut, grinning as they scanned him from head to toe, "This hag looks like it might die any second but is wearing some fine clothes."

"How much do you think it might sell?"

"Well, let's find out, shall we?"

As they laughed nonchalantly, Parlut had his eyes closed all along, sensing the five new starlight streams incident on him. Upon feeling the emotions contained in them, he was able to get a handle on their characters and what they had been doing all along.

The smell of blood that seemed to have been permanently mixed into their scent said wonders about what they did for a living. Parlut clenched his hand into a fist, muttering, "All my life, I've only had to wave my hand to make someone do all my dirty work. But now, my situation is different."

"To prevent my foes from detecting my plans, I should be the one to handle all my dirty work," Parlut said, making eye contact with one of the thugs.

"What the heck is this hag saying all of a sudden? Did its brain go kaput?" The thug pulled out its zagged knife, intending to finish off his foe when his mind went blank. And before he realised, his body began to fall towards the ground. And on his forehead was a rectangular-shaped hole.

"What the…?" The other thugs were alarmed when Parlut moved his hand, condensing something in it for an instant when a thug collapsed. He did the same using both hands, killing two more thugs at the same time.

The final thug was unable to even scream for help, scared into silence as he gazed at Parlut's arms that peeked out of his clothes while he moved his arm. They were rotting, seemingly oozing out gelatinous puss.

But, Parlut's actions were indeed strange and terrifying, making the thug feel like he had entered a scene of horror. His eyes then blanked out when Parlut faced his hand towards his face, clenching it when something seemed to manifest in it.

But, before he could take a detailed look, the object vanished while there was a rectangular-shaped hole in his forehead. As he dropped to the floor, Parlut walked away from the scene, heading towards the next street before entering an inconspicuous house.

Upon entering it, he arrived beside a cupboard, taking out a certain book from it as he opened it, looking at the cut made into the pages, creating a section where a key had been placed. Parlut inserted the key into another book, twisting it when the bookshelf trembled once, opening to reveal a passage behind.

He walked into it, closing the entrance behind him, reaching the end to arrive before a room. And, upon entering the room, he looked at the figures of the two servants who had been working on a skin mask of sorts.

Upon seeing him, they just nodded, motioning for him to take a seat on the chair that faced a body-length mirror. Parlut sat on it as the two servants began to work up from his hair, removing it little by little, soon pulling out an entire layer of artificial skin, revealing the face of Compass Carburettor within.

His expression was sombre, conflicted, 'Kalluto's statement proved that my conjecture was indeed right. But, am I really going to involve an innocent child in my schemes? Would my morality deviate even further in the future?'

He was plagued by worries. The moment Ephemella informed him about Regriel's decision to head towards the capital of the Heroica Empire after a week, he was worried. Immediately, he launched the plan—that he had discussed with Ephemella—into motion.

He embarked on a plan based on a simple conjecture. No matter how trivial it might seem at the start, a System always plans to make its Host the centre of attention. And for that to happen, it would make the Host connect to people with hidden pasts that might one day blow up into a massive issue, enough to shake regions, countries, or even the world depending on the stage the Host was at.

And, as Regriel had a System related to enslaving women, it meant that his first enslaved target would have a rather shocking past that would come into light in the future, causing waves that would affect the lives of countless people. General Artica was a gift, a bonus created by the System to show its powers and help Regriel break out of the situation, also making him reliant on the System from that one act.

So, the person he enslaved next should be the person he actually enslaved first. And that usually meant this enslaved person either had a shocking past, was related to something significant, or was the successor of a rather frightening legacy.

Kerriel was the first person Regriel had enslaved. So, following that line of thought, Compass Carburettor used the help of Ephemella and her information network to dig into Kerriel, realising his hunch was correct when he got valuable information upon digging up Parlut's grave.