Chapter 13: The Naked Value
The clouds in the sky hung low, the heavy humidity in the coastal region making even the usual rainfall in Velen feel oppressive. On the land of Velen, towering trees that had grown wild for countless years swayed like dancing demons in the howling wind and dim light. Yet, the essence of the landscape could never compare to the feelings within a person's heart.
Amidst the darkened sky, a young man rode one horse while leading another, trotting joyfully along the rugged path. Humming a tune he couldn't quite identify, Lan bounced with the rhythm of Popeye's gait. When in high spirits, anything he did was enjoyable, and the song he hummed was of little concern.
To an observer, he appeared as if he had grown up riding horses. No top-tier rider could fathom that this was a young man who had only been on a horse for a month. He breathed in sync with the horse, adjusting his posture as it shifted its weight—a skill that even regional horse racing champions might never achieve.
This rapid advancement, outpacing the natural learning ability of a human, was merely the normal functioning of Mentos, his biological AI, under a state of limited computational resources. It formulated training plans, monitored training states with muscle-group precision, and quantified training outcomes.
The Federation's Educational Law prohibited the biological AI from interfering with the user's physical actions until they achieved a university-level education. In other words, the AI was unable to influence bodily behavior.
Yet, even within this restrictive learning system, Lan rarely repeated a wrong move more than five times. This had significantly aided his skills in advancing to a higher level. While Lan vocally complained about Mentos's rigid logic and how its training plans often left his mind feeling like a shaken soda bottle, he was genuinely grateful. In this dangerous world, a young man as vulnerable as a floating weed owed his survival to Mentos.
Now, the "great contributor," with its neutral voice, continued its chatter.
"Sir, you have been humming for two hours, forty-four minutes, and six seconds, with multiple repetitions, pauses, and key changes. I sincerely suggest that if you have an interest in music, you should gather some knowledge of music theory once your life becomes stable. I believe I can provide reasonable assistance for your interests."
The easy smile on Lan's face faltered slightly. He couldn't tell if it was just his imagination, but he sensed a hint of hesitation in Mentos's tone. It seemed to be carefully choosing its words, particularly when describing his melody. Of course, this was likely just his overthinking!
Everything the AI knew originated from his brain cells; how could it possibly dislike the song he hummed?
Resolutely, Lan declared from atop his horse, "Mentos, remember this: Music is great because it carries the emotions of sentient beings. Rhythm and theory are mere embellishments—things that are optional!"
"However, even if you say that, your melody is still…"
Also, uncertain if it was merely an illusion, Mentos began to feel uncomfortable based on the cumulative "musical aesthetics" derived from the entirety of the music Lan had heard in his eighteen years. It wasn't severe, but it felt like it was about to crack.
"Enough." Lan waved his hand dismissively from Popeye's back. "Just tell me if I'm in a good mood right now."
Without missing a beat, Mentos provided its answer. "Based on hormone levels and brainwave data, you are indeed in a state of 'happiness.'"
"Then this is the 'Song of Joy'! A wonderful piece of music filled with emotion."
Given his master's assertion, the AI fell silent. Lan's erratic humming paused momentarily due to their conversation, but as raindrops began to fall, he couldn't help but start humming again.
Mentos's analysis was entirely accurate; he genuinely felt joy.
At barely nineteen, Lan had just completed the most significant exam of his life after twelve years of schooling, and he found himself in what should have been the most indulgent long vacation in this absurd world.
Claiming to be a college student meant nothing more than having received an acceptance letter and having glimpsed a photo of the school gate on its website. He was nothing more than a pathetic virgin who had never even held a girl's hand.
This young man, after undergoing hellish physical modifications, deliberately suppressing his emotions, enduring rigorous self-training, and executing a meticulous revenge plan, had personally killed his mentor and oppressor.
The emotions that blossomed within him were complex. Yet, at the moment he reclaimed control over his own life, he truly felt happy.
Popeye's powerful legs matched its worth, and just as raindrops began to seep through the layer of black grime on Lan's cotton armor, they arrived at their destination.
A fishing village situated by a swampy lake: Oreton.
The village consisted of about a hundred people. They drove wooden stakes deep into the ground, laid down wooden boards, and built their houses above them to keep out the rising waters.
The hooves of the horses squelched in the mud, making a "clop, clop" sound.
The silver necklace shaped like a roaring bear head clinked against Lan's neck in rhythm.
Before entering the village, Lan paused briefly. Compared to his previous visit with Bordon, the roadside had changed—two long, upright wooden poles stood ominously. Two corpses, their heads covered by burlap sacks and barefoot, hung stiffly from the poles, swaying in the dim light of the overcast sky.
Lan approached the poles, where a notice was affixed.
[In the name of Sir Vserad, the thieves who stole in Oreton have been executed. This act serves as a reminder to all to uphold the law and morality and to steer clear of shameless and filthy deeds.]
"Concise and to the point, lacking in literary flair. But what more could one expect from a scribe working in Velen?"
With a tug on the reins, he urged his horse away. Though young, Lan had received an education far beyond the average in this world.
His educational experience informed him that imposing harsh laws where even theft would lead to public execution in a society with low standards of living and morality would result in two possible outcomes.
If the ruler lacked sufficient power, the ruler would perish. If the ruler had adequate strength, the land would soon be silent as a grave. After all, people could be killed, but they could also flee.
The lord ruling Velen had maintained his seat for decades; he wasn't foolish. If Lan guessed correctly, the two hanging bodies met their fates in a manner similar to Bordon's. They were simply unfortunate enough to get caught up in the chariot race.
In this world, the value of life was determined by one's status, and it was displayed in a starkly naked manner. Naked to the point that Lan had never quite adjusted to it.
Mentos, having monitored Lan's soaring happiness index throughout the journey, was now gradually settling down. Thus, after the discussion about "music," Mentos chose the right moment to seek confirmation from its master once more.
The neutral voice echoed in his mind.
"So, even after confirming the brutality of this world once again… Do you still intend to continue with your plans?"
***
Guys don't forget to throw in some Power Stones. Let's give this book more exposure.