Most Gardeners possessed a severe distrust of humans.
“I-I-I want to go back to that tree…! Waaah…!!”
“Please calm down. We need only conduct a simple investigation, and it will be over quickly.”
“Liar! You’re going to feed me to a Monster! You’ll experiment on me! You’ll sell me to slave traders!!”
“None of that will happen, so please calm yourself.”
“Talents” capable of serving Gardens appeared at random. Within any given country, cities occupied little land. Provincial regions were vast. Consequently, most “talents” were inevitably born and raised in the provinces.
Many of them grew up within insular cultures—in villages overflowing with astonishing conspiracy theories. No matter how politely a person like that was treated, there was no possibility they could remain composed inside the Association.
“Have you calmed down a little now?”
“Y-You truly won’t eat me…? You won’t, right…?”
“If you wish, we will even prepare a soul contract, so please place just a little trust in us.”
“…Y-Yes. Yes, I’ll do that. I’m sorry.”
“Someone bring a contract here.”
But the Association’s employees were experienced. In particular, as veterans of matters involving Mystery, they easily soothed a novice Gardener’s anxiety. It was not especially difficult.
They only had to remain consistent and courteous. They met in a place where the Gardener could see clearly in every…