"Have you ever heard of game theory?" A thought blossoms in my mind, so I blurt it out. It isn't a complete thought, but I'm confident that I'll figure out where I'm headed along the way.
"No," she says as her eyes narrow.
"Game theory is about finding the best way to handle competitive and cooperative interactions. One of the most straightforward explanations of how it functions is called the prisoner's dilemma. Imagine you have captured two people suspected of having committed a crime. You give them the option of selling the other out. If 'person-A' sells out 'person-B,' 'person-A' will be let free, and 'person-B' will have a ten-year prison sentence. If 'person-B' sells out 'person-A,' the inverse will occur. If both 'person-A' and 'person-B' refuse to sell each other out, they will both receive a two-year prison sentence. If both people sell each other out, then both will receive a five-year prison sentence. What is the best option for them to take?"
"Neither should sell the other out," Inari responds immediately, picking up the concept almost immediately, just like I thought she would.
"Correct, but the draw of being set free for selling out your companion is appealing."
"Well, if you are a feeble human who doesn't trust your companion, you should always sell them out."
"But, having that attitude will always guarantee that the maximum sentence of ten years is served overall, either by your companion keeping their mouth shut and serving the whole sentence themselves or combined from the two of you each serving five years. If we were to run this experiment many times, you would serve more time than if you had both decided to work together from the beginning."
I watch Inari as she works through the possible iterations in her mind. As her mind churns, I can almost see her putting herself in each person's shoes to see how she should behave to gain the most benefit.
"Now, let's take this one step further. Imagine you're doing five iterations of this experiment, each against one member of a group before moving on to the next person. What is the best stance to take?" I give her the chance to think over this new scenario before continuing. "It turns out the best stance to take is being cooperative and then mirroring what your opponent does. If you are always being competitive, then the only people that you will really benefit from are those who are always cooperative. Realistically, as soon as you sell someone out the first time, they will not cooperate with you again, so even in the best-case scenario, you will still serve twenty years. On the other hand, two people who cooperate from the beginning will only serve ten years, and if you encounter someone who sells you out, that number goes up to thirty years. As you add more iterations, it becomes more advantageous to be cooperative, and I think we see that in our daily lives. People who try to take advantage of others will generally break off contact to prevent further interactions. Once the prisoners turn on each other, the competitor can no longer benefit from the relationship. That's why I think it's best to be kind at first and then reciprocate."
"So you think I should be more cooperative with humans?" she asks suspiciously.
"I don't know. It's very easy for humans to break contact with you, so it certainly is risky. I'm just saying I agree with your position of occasionally giving us a chance."
"That's a long-winded way of agreeing with me," she says with a smug smile.
"You looked uncertain about your decisions. I just wanted to give you some knowledge showing that what you were doing wasn't wrong."
"Well, thanks. Does any of that apply to what you're going to do with this child?"
"Honestly, I was hoping you forgot about that by now." Inari thins her lips at my response. "Fine. Just take him to the fort and wake him up. We'll say we just found him, and we can all move on with our lives."
"That's what I thought." Inari crosses her arms condescendingly.
[Don't mock her, don't mock her, don't mock her.]
I struggle to hold my tongue.
"Fufufu, you're learning."
"I told you not to read other peoples' minds. It's rude." I frown. The fairies gather around the boy on the ground and carry him over to the fort near the den. They untie him and reverse the sleep spell as they fly away. After they're out of sight, I shake him awake.
"Hey, wake up."
He doesn't respond. I shake him harder.
"Wake up!"
Still, nothing; till I slap him hard in the face.
"WAKE UP!"
"Huh? Wha, where am I?" The last one did the trick.
"You're in the middle of the Argon Forest; what the hell are you doing here?"
"I don't know. We were in class, and I got separated from everyone. I wandered around for days trying to find…"
"I don't care. We're leaving." I interrupt his train of thought and pull him up by the hand. Josh and Sakura stand next to me with their arms full of fungi. I made it very clear to them not to talk about this incident.
"Who are they? Who are you?"
"Shut up. Just walk." I push him in front of us as we head back to town. We quickly arrive at the gate, where I pawn him off to the guards.
"Shouldn't you take him to the guild? There's supposed to be a reward out for him." One of the guards seems hesitant to take on this responsibility.
"Don't you think you should take him to his family? He's not a skinned rabbit."
"Point taken." The guard, whose name I forgot to ask, takes the child home. We head to the Adventurer's Guild to sell the fungi and inform them of the kid's safe arrival. I tell them that we handed him off to the gate guard, and they start moving to corroborate my story. We collect our share from selling the fungus and head home for the day.
"Good morning, class. I'm Jezabel, the Guild Master of this branch." A blue-haired woman stands at the front of the classroom. She is wearing a baggy, green guild robe, but evidence of her well-toned physique can still be seen. She has a very confident smile which accentuates her sharp features. Her wide stance exudes an aura of certainty built from years of experience. That being said, I have no idea how old she is. If I asked her and she said anything between the ages of twenty and forty-five, I'd believe her. The class is silent as we all adjust to our new teacher.