"All of this, was arranged by you, wasn't it? Including my life, everything I've experienced, all arranged by you, wasn't it?"
But the Demi-human Girls Completion Manual had no thoughts or consciousness; it simply floated quietly, gazing at Fisher Beanvides before it.
If people manufacture a product with purpose, then was I manufactured by her, brought to the Church School's doorstep to be raised by Teresa, and all the women I encountered along the way, was there purpose in each of that too?
To understand more clearly, is the existence of "Fisher Benavides" merely to resolve this Doomsday Prophecy looming over the world?
Thinking like this, Fisher didn't know whether to feel relieved or saddened.
Relieved, perhaps, that many people might spend their entire lives searching for the meaning of their existence, exhausting their mind questioning the significance of every moment, but he needn't ponder this ultimate question that has brought countless philosophers to their knees.
