Chapter 35: The Cost Calculation of the Refugees

“…A cost calculation?”

Liliana repeated the words in disbelief, unable to grasp their meaning.

So it wasn’t out of compassion?
Not out of a noble spirit to save those in suffering?

Then what kind of calculation was it?

Zenon, indifferent to her confusion, began to explain in a tone as if giving a dull lecture.

“It’s simple. The initial cost for providing three hundred people with clothing, food, housing, and medical care—let’s say it comes to one thousand gold coins.”

He traced imaginary figures in the air with his finger.

“On the other hand, consider the economic benefit those three hundred healthy laborers will bring over the next ten years. Road construction, factory work—the direct increase in productivity. Then, as consumers, the indirect ripple effect of them spending money within the territory. All told, the return will exceed ten thousand gold coins at the very least.”

The words spilling from his mouth were devoid of any trace of humanity—cold, clinical cost–benefit analysis.

“Initial investment: one thousand gold coins. Expected return: ten thousand.
Estimated payback period: two years. By any rational standard, that’s a buy. A high-value investment, plain and simple. That’s why I accepted them. That’s all there is to it.”

Liliana was speechless.

The decision that had moved her to tears…
The one she thought was divine in its mercy…

Behind it lay a devil’s arithmetic—one that measured human lives as if they were livestock, assigning them monetary worth.

She could feel the blood in her body go cold.

(…I see.)

But then—
Something within Liliana clicked back into motion. The grand machinery of her delusion began to turn once more.

(I almost let his words deceive me again…)

She looked straight into Zenon’s calm, unreadable eyes.

Why did he always choose such heartless words?
Why couldn’t he simply say, “I want to save them”?

(…Now I understand.)

In her mind, every piece suddenly fell into place.

(He’s testing me.)

Yes—Zenon was testing her.

Testing whether she, as a saint, truly possessed the insight to see through to the essence of people’s hearts.
Testing whether she could discern the warmth and compassion hidden beneath his cold façade.

If she had foolishly taken his words at face value and accused him of being heartless, he would have been disappointed.
He would have thought.

“So even you see only the surface, after all.”

And why did he go so far to hide his true feelings?

Because the burden he bore was far too great.
The fate of tens of thousands of citizens rested upon his young shoulders.

In such a position, emotions like sentimentality or tenderness could cloud one’s judgment—poison the clarity needed for true leadership.

That was why he had deliberately killed his own heart, choosing instead the mask of a cold rationalist.

All for one single purpose: to save his people.

(How clumsy… and how strong he is.)

Liliana’s eyes filled with deep admiration—and a touch of pity.

Only I can understand him.
Only I can see the true kindness beneath his loneliness.

“…Understood.”

Liliana spoke softly but clearly.
Her voice no longer carried anger or disappointment.
Only a serene acceptance, filled with compassion born of supposed understanding.

“I understand your ‘cost calculation.’ It’s your own form of love—the way you save the greatest number of people with the most certainty.”

“…What?”

This time, it was Zenon’s turn to stare at her in utter bewilderment.

Love?

What on earth was this saint talking about?

Where, in his perfect logical framework, could she possibly have found that irrational word?

For the first time, Zenon’s mind froze—like a computer hit by an unforeseen bug.

“Please don’t worry, Zenon-sama.”

Liliana smiled at him, radiating the serene benevolence of a holy mother.

“I understand how painful your duty must be. But now, I see. I won’t foolishly doubt your words anymore.”

Zenon said nothing.

“From now on, I’ll trust in your ‘rational decisions’ as well. Because I believe they will ultimately lead the people to happiness.”

To Liliana, these were words of faith and devotion—her vow to stand by him in his lonely struggle.

To Zenon, however, it was like hearing meaningless static.

(Hopeless. Communication failure. We’re running on entirely different operating systems.)

He decided, then and there, to abandon all attempts at logical conversation with her.

Trying to reason with this saint was, he concluded, the height of inefficiency.

“…Fine. As long as you understand.”

That was all he said before turning on his heel and walking back to his office.

Any further interaction, he feared, might contaminate his rational mind.

Left alone, Liliana watched his departing back with eyes full of warmth and admiration.

(Ah… he’s gone. That means my words reached him, didn’t they?)

She was utterly, blissfully convinced that Zenon had recognized her as his kindred spirit—his true understanding ally.

“I must do my best, too.”

She clenched her fists with quiet resolve.

I’ll become worthy to stand beside him—a competent, efficient part of his great rational system.
That will be my new mission as a saint.

The misunderstanding between the two had now reached an irreversible level.

And soon, that same misunderstanding would steer the fate of the refugees in the Arclight domain—
in a direction no one could have possibly predicted.