"You don't want Index to know?" Su Mo stroked his chin, then shook his head. "There's nothing I need to hide from Index. Whatever you want to say, say it right here, in front of her."
Of course, Su Mo fully understood why Kanzaki wanted to speak to him privately. But this was also a perfect opportunity to score some goodwill — a free chance like this was too good to pass up. As expected, hearing his words made Index's affection for Su Mo grow even more, nearing its peak.
Kanzaki had anticipated his reaction, but she wasn't willing to back down. "This is my only condition. If, after hearing everything, you feel it's okay to tell her, I won't stop you. But I believe you won't do that."
Her tone was full of conviction. She could see that Su Mo genuinely wanted to protect Index. Precisely because of that, once he learned the truth, she was certain he would make the right choice.
The standoff lasted a few moments, until Index herself broke the silence. "It's fine! Su Mo will tell me afterward anyway." She looked at him with unwavering trust, convinced that Su Mo would never hide anything from her.
"Of course," Su Mo nodded. "That's a promise."
"Great!" Index smiled brightly. Just as she was about to leave the basement, she paused and ran back to him, looking up with her pure, clear eyes. "Even though we've agreed… if you really, really think I shouldn't know after hearing it, I'll understand. If you choose not to tell me, it must be for my own good. So, no matter what, I trust you, Su Mo."
With that, the silver-haired nun left the basement, leaving behind Kanzaki and Stiyl with complicated expressions.
They had always known Index was a pure and kind child, but even they were surprised at how quickly she had grown so close to Su Mo after just a single day. The reason behind their year-long pursuit of Index — even though it was something she deeply cared about — she had still handed the decision entirely to Su Mo. Whether or not she was told the truth would not affect her trust in him one bit.
Frankly, hearing her say that left even Kanzaki feeling a bit sour, like carefully tended cabbage willingly throwing itself into someone else's pigpen. A mix of emotions stirred in her chest. In truth, even in the past, Index may not have trusted them as much as she now trusted Su Mo.
The door to the basement closed with a dull thud, cutting off all sound. Kanzaki took a deep breath, suppressing her tangled emotions, and turned her gaze firmly to Su Mo. "Now I can speak."
Su Mo looked at the two of them, pulled out his phone, and discreetly pressed the record button. Unfamiliar with modern technology, neither Kanzaki nor Stiyl noticed what he was doing.
After a moment of hesitation, Kanzaki finally began. "The truth is... both of us are Index's companions. We belong to the Anglican Church's Neccessarius—the Church of Necessary Evil."
And so, she revealed everything. The reason for Index's memory purges every year was due to the limited capacity of her brain. The 103,000 grimoires occupied 85% of her mental capacity, leaving only 15% for her normal memories. If her memories weren't wiped each year, her mind would overflow, and she would die. Each time they erased her memories, they saw her sorrowful expression—her desperate desire not to forget her friends, even if it cost her life. Those words had pierced their hearts.
To spare her from experiencing that agony again, they had resolved not to let her form too many attachments to the world. Without joyful memories, there would be no painful goodbyes. Thus, they chose to drive her into isolation, chasing her across the world for an entire year — up until now.
After hearing their confession, Su Mo looked at them as though they were complete idiots. "Are you two brain-dead or something?" he asked bluntly.
At his words, Stiyl instantly erupted in fury. "You don't understand anything!" he shouted. "We're trying to protect her — but in doing so, we have to hurt her! Every day we chased that child, every tear she shed, we witnessed it all! Every time we forced ourselves to endure her pain, it was like dying inside! Do you think it was easy for us? What do you know, outsider?!"
His eyes were full of anguish. Witnessing Index's suffering pained him more than anyone could imagine. That was why he couldn't tolerate Su Mo dismissing their determination so lightly.
However, Su Mo wasn't swayed. "Because you're afraid of the pain of parting, you chose to destroy happiness at its root?" he countered sharply. "By that logic, since you'll get hungry again, you might as well stop eating altogether. Since people eventually die, why not just commit suicide now to avoid future pain? That kind of cowardly reasoning is not the path humans should walk."
He shook his head, voice cold but resolute. "If you truly respected Index, you should have let her choose for herself. And I believe, without a doubt, that she would never have chosen your path."
His words silenced both Kanzaki and Stiyl. They had been acting based on their own interpretations all along.
They had never once asked Index what kind of life she actually wanted.
Just as Kanzaki and Stiyl began to waver in their convictions, Su Mo spoke again — and this time, his words completely shattered them. "Even putting that aside, you two are complete idiots." He let out a cold chuckle, directly exposing the truth. "This whole idea that her brain would overload from too much memory? That's nothing but a childish lie to fool you."
"Human memory storage and brain capacity don't work like that at all. The brain's memory storage regions aren't even located in the same areas as those responsible for capacity management. Even in individuals with perfect recall, there's no such thing as the brain reaching its limit and 'exploding' from too much memory."
Stiyl and Kanzaki were stunned. "What did you say?" Stiyl shouted in disbelief. "Perfect recall doesn't cause the brain to overload? But… the Archbishop told us that was the case!"
"I don't care what your so-called source of information is," Su Mo said bluntly. "Facts are facts. If, as you were told, only 15% of Index's brain could be used for memories, and that could only hold one year's worth of information, then by that logic, she would've reached her limit and died by the age of seven. Yet she started reading grimoires when she was ten, didn't she?"
Kanzaki paused and thought for a moment before nodding. Indeed, Index had begun studying grimoires at ten years old. If what the Archbishop claimed was true, she would have collapsed long before that from an overloaded brain — but she hadn't.
Su Mo continued, "Perfect recall isn't even rare in the world. There are many people with this condition who live well past a hundred years old. You can easily find examples with a little research. There's simply no such thing as memory overflow killing someone."
In reality, perfect recall was just a special physiological condition — neither a supernatural ability nor a form of magical talent. It was a rare but perfectly natural trait found throughout the world. Hearing Su Mo's explanation, Kanzaki's face darkened as her remaining faith crumbled. "If what you're saying is true, then the Archbishop fed us false information from the very beginning."
She was finally starting to realize they had been manipulated. Stiyl, however, was still struggling to accept it. "But if the brain overload is a lie, how do you explain the pain Index suffers every year? Every time her memory cleansing approaches, she falls into agonizing comas. That's why I always believed what the Archbishop told us."
Su Mo's words forced Stiyl to confront a horrifying possibility. His face turned grim as the thought struck him. "It must be… the Archbishop tampered with her body!"
Kanzaki came to the same conclusion. "That fox of a woman!"
Grinding his teeth in anger, Stiyl cursed. If it had been anyone else, he might have doubted it. But if it was Laura Stuart — the Archbishop herself — then this kind of underhanded scheme was entirely within her capabilities. After his outburst, Stiyl stared blankly at Kanzaki. "If this was all part of the Archbishop's plan, then we've been in the dark this entire time. That child… never needed her memories erased to begin with."
It finally dawned on him that everything they had done was nothing but harm to Index.
"That's right," Su Mo interjected. "Since Index is a vital weapon for the Anglican Church, the higher-ups would've implemented some form of control. And nothing eliminates risk more thoroughly than wiping her memories regularly." He directly laid bare the Church's intentions.
Hearing this, Kanzaki and Stiyl were even more convinced. This was precisely the kind of thing the Archbishop would orchestrate. In fact, if this weren't the case, it would make no sense for her to allow Index to remain on the run for so long. The only reason she could feel secure was that she already had complete control over Index — through the annual memory purges.
Now fully realizing that their actions had been the true source of Index's pain all along, Kanzaki and Stiyl were overcome with grief and regret, their eyes filled with unspeakable guilt.