Volume 2

Chapter 74 : A False Paradise

What do people live for?

There’s never a fixed answer to that question.

Everyone, standing from their own perspective, gives different answers.

Because of this… failing to see the world from others’ angles inevitably means being unable to understand why they make certain choices.

Just like now, Mingfuluo couldn’t comprehend why these farmers so easily changed their attitudes.

All the cruelty, violence, ferocity, and madness they had exuded moments ago seemed like nothing more than an illusion.

The blood splattered on them was as if mere playful graffiti, and the daggers and short knives they gripped were like toys from a child’s game of make-believe.

Watching all this unfold, Mingfuluo deeply felt their grief, rage, savagery, and the relief of finally achieving their goal.

From an emotional standpoint, Mingfuluo could sense that they had come here absolutely convinced that as long as they could kill Lauriel, nothing else mattered.

They had mercilessly slaughtered the servants in this house… yet these people, driven to such madness, set aside their frenzied killing intent just because of a single sentence from Lauriel?

Was this deranged resolve, this cruelty that even killed the innocent, so cheap, so… absurd?

“No… you don’t get to decide,” one farmer said, panting heavily.

“If we let you go now, you’ll just send people to capture us!”

“But if all the other farmers are dead, who will till the fields?”

Lauriel countered: “Our time is extremely precious. Since we have ready-made farmers here, why waste time looking elsewhere for others?”

At this, he paused, slightly raising his chin.

On his rough face, indistinguishable from the other farmers, a contemptuous smile emerged:

“Besides, I don’t care.”

“Who farms the fields, who controls the farmland—I don’t care at all. Even if it’s you people who want to kill me, I only care about whether the grain can be produced on time.”

He pinpointed the exact thing that made the two farmers hesitate, then delivered the final blow to shatter their resolve: “Kill me, and you’ll surely die. But listen to me, and there’s a sliver of a chance… to change your lives.”

“If I were you, I’d have already made my choice.”

Lauriel stood up, spreading his arms: “If I can be killed by people who’d give up even this kind of hope, then I have nothing to say.”

Mingfuluo stared at the three figures in the scene for a long time, finally murmuring subconsciously: “They… shouldn’t agree.”

“Why?” Anselm asked with a smile.

Having spoken the words as they flowed naturally with her thoughts, Mingfuluo fell silent for a moment before softly replying: “I don’t know. I just feel… if they agree like this, it’s too absurd.

No, not absurd, but… unacceptable.”

The young Hydra looked down at the petite scholar’s contemplative expression, his thoughts inadvertently following the deepest currents of his heart: “Unacceptable? But isn’t Lauriel the victim here? These two farmers have no justification for their reckless slaughter. Right and wrong are so clear—why can’t you accept that they’d choose to accept Lauriel’s proposal?”

He was somewhat eager for Mingfuluo’s response.

“In this scenario, of course it’s not right, but…”

But as she watched the two farmers drop their weapons, their expressions gradually turning servile as they knelt before Lauriel, Mingfuluo seemed to see something more metaphysical, a twisted scene.

“But if we follow this imagery, their actions are a… betrayal.”

“A betrayal of themselves.”

At this, Anselm burst into delighted laughter, seemingly very pleased with Mingfuluo’s answer:

“Themselves? Then what do you think ‘themselves’ are? They’re just farmers. Isn’t their ‘self’ simply about earning coins through farming? Weren’t they driven to madness and wanting to kill Lauriel precisely because they couldn’t do this? Doesn’t their choice perfectly align with—”

His words abruptly stopped.

Realizing he was becoming increasingly carried away, Anselm narrowed his eyes and halted the topic.

His role was to guide, not to truly instruct… Letting someone like Mingfuluo learn too much was never a good thing.

This shouldn’t have happened, but alas, Mingfuluo… had that ability.

She possessed the terrifying talent to keep up with his train of thought, to follow a system of thinking accumulated over a thousand years from another world.

“It’s just their identity. Identity isn’t everything. Their true selves should be something… like a collective, a kind of…”

Though Anselm had stopped his slightly uncontrolled lecturing, Mingfuluo still vaguely grasped something.

Yet, limited by her perspective and knowledge, she couldn’t go further.

Even so, it was already terrifying enough.

Watching Mingfuluo sink into thought, Anselm couldn’t resist asking one final question:

“So, do you think Lauriel, as a farmer, is no longer the same as them?”

“He… how can he still be considered a farmer? He’s already a merchant.”

Mingfuluo shook her head, looking at Lauriel in the scene, his smile growing ever more unrestrained as he gazed down at the kneeling farmers.

Thoughtfully, she said:

“After he indirectly gained control of all the farmland through those opportunistic means, he was no longer a farmer.”

As Anselm fell silent, Mingfuluo asked again: “Is this what you wanted me to see? Fa… Your Excellency Anselm.”

Miss Doll looked at the other light screens, at the frenzied, bloody, and utterly primal slaughter, then at the two farmers kneeling before Lauriel, and felt… it was all so absurd.

If Anselm intended to shock her, Mingfuluo had to admit—he succeeded.

She was beginning to worry, even fear, what these fields, meant to eliminate hunger, would bring to Little Pelican City, to Watson Territory.

Miss Doll, who had never truly set foot in the ways of the world, unconsciously clutched her skirt tightly.

[In your eyes, what exactly is change?]

[What kind of illusion are you chasing?]

These two questions intertwined in this moment, and the terrifying nightmare Mingfuluo dreaded surged back, growing… even stronger.

If I don’t know why I cling to that ideal, if I don’t even know what the change I pursue is—

Then what—

As Mingfuluo trembled in fear, trying to probe deeper, Anselm’s voice rang out again:

“Do you really think this is the end of it all?”

He pulled her from the terror she couldn’t face, only to cast her into another abyss that chilled her to the bone.

“…” Mingfuluo opened her mouth, attempting to analyze the situation.

“Most of the farmers have been… killed. A few survived. Lauriel still controls the farmers—”

“No, dear Helen, you should already understand.”

Anselm leaned close to Mingfuluo’s cheek, his gentle words like a snake’s tongue, licking across her body, making her tremble uncontrollably.

“You should know that the farmers were never the key. From the very beginning, they were… dispensable.”

“What matters is what?” he asked with a smile brimming with intent.

“What matters is… the potion,” Mingfuluo answered with difficulty.

“The potion is the key to changing everything. The potion is—”

In that instant, as she spoke those words, despite the warmth of Anselm’s embrace, an icy chill pierced through Mingfuluo’s entire spine.

Looking at the irrepressible smile on Lauriel’s face, she finally understood… why this man was so elated.

The foreign farmers who came to kill Little Pelican City’s farmers only knew that there were vast, magically fertile fields here, and that the local farmers, who benefited from them, had driven them to desperation.

But they could never know what made the fields this way.

And the original farmers who knew the secret were now nearly all gone.

Among the surviving farmers, there was one man, full of ambition and capability, who could be said to be one of the main reasons Little Pelican City and Watson Territory had become what they were.

How could he… let this opportunity slip?

Today, only four farmers remained in Little Pelican City—both local and foreign—who held both the fields and the potion.

After subduing those two farmers, Lauriel immediately notified Rozokaira, launching a purge in the city.

He himself was part of the purge team.

But he wasn’t purging the murderous farmers.

He was… purging the remaining potion.

Anselm was absolutely right.

Something of immense importance had indeed happened in Little Pelican City today.

Because Lauriel hadn’t just seized the fleeting bargaining power.

He had grasped the true key to changing the fields, to “eliminating hunger.”

And under the rules of this game, where “transcendents may not interfere, and all competition must be fair”…

Who could restrain this farmer, once a servant of transcendents?

If no one could hold him back, what would he do with this terrifying leverage that could change all of Watson Territory—exaggeratedly, perhaps even the entire Empire?

After a brief moment of beauty, everything was hurtling toward an unknown abyss.

What had caused it all… to become like this?

Everyone could eat their fill—a good thing no one could deny.

Yet Miss Mingfuluo, caged in Babel Tower, couldn’t speak, her lips trembling slightly.

She had realized that this game was beginning to spiral out of control.

Or perhaps, even with all the restrictions Anselm had imposed…

The vision she longed for had been out of control from the very start?

***

The fifth cycle arrived in the blink of an eye.

In this short time, many widely known events occurred.

For instance, the Pelican Guild announced it could fully supply all grain for Watson Territory within the next month, shocking the entire Empire.

The two grand dukes of the southern border had officially turned their attention, their great guilds making contact with the Pelican Guild, only to mysteriously fall silent afterward.

Most sensational of all was the Grand Princess, who, during a conversation with her ministers one day, actively mentioned this matter, calling it “an interesting thing.”

It was well known that if the Grand Princess found something interesting, it wasn’t far from falling into her hands.

The influential figures who knew the true nature of the Pelican Guild and the miraculous fields outside Little Pelican City had already withdrawn, preparing to face the coming spectacle with different attitudes.

Of course, many other things happened—some deliberately hidden, some too trivial for the spotlight, some simply insignificant.

“Are you really planning to just leave like this?”

At the entrance to Henk’s residence in Little Pelican City, Lauriel, smoking a cigar identical to Rozokaira’s, exhaled a cloud of smoke as he spoke.

“…Mm.”

Henk glanced at the servants packing his luggage and gave a soft response.

He was one of the few survivors of that massacre.

His usual kindness and good relationships had helped him greatly.

That day, Henk had been visiting two other farmers, and their numbers allowed them to fend off the attackers, though sadly, only he survived.

“You could keep taking dividends from the guild, even without farming,” Lauriel said, glancing at Henk.

“Are you really repulsed by my methods?”

“Repulsed…” Henk stared blankly into the distance, toward the high walls of Little Pelican City.

He vaguely remembered, just a month ago, gazing at the scene of that bountiful harvest, the passion surging in his heart, the tears welling in his eyes—so pure, so sincere.

“It’s not about being repulsed by you, Lauriel.”

The young man shook his head: “I just feel it’s too…”

Lacking the words, he struggled for a long time before saying bitterly: “Too unreasonable.”

“I was just farming. We earned more money, fed more people, but it cost my old man an arm, left him half-dead when he was rescued. It left the other farmers in Watson Territory with nothing to eat, drove them mad enough to come kill us.”

“And… and those people who killed our friends, they’re still openly… farming on the fields of the people they killed, earning the money that should’ve been theirs…”

Henk said this, looking at Lauriel with exhaustion:

“Lauriel, these past few days, every night I dream of the fields soaked in blood, of Coste, Fukaira, and the others crawling out from under the soil… I’m not repulsed by you… maybe a little, but more than that, I can’t stand it here anymore. That’s why I want to leave.”

Lauriel didn’t speak, only took a deep drag on his cigar and exhaled slowly.

“Lauriel,” Henk said, unable to hold back as he saw Lauriel’s indifference, “haven’t you, even for a single day… had a nightmare?”

“No,” Lauriel replied.

“I’ve been sleeping less and less these days, but it’s got nothing to do with nightmares.”

“…I see.”

Henk said softly: “Then, goodbye. I’m grateful you brought me so much wealth… You’re the most important benefactor in my life.No matter what you do, that won’t change.”

Lauriel waved a hand: “You helped me plenty too.No need to talk like that, or I wouldn’t have come to see you off.”

“Thanks.”

Seeing the servants had finished packing his luggage, Henk prepared to leave.

But before heading to the waiting carriage, he couldn’t help but turn back to look at Lauriel.

This stocky man with a plain, rugged face—Henk didn’t know what he truly wanted.

He was sharp enough to seize the key moment, yet he seemed… not to be enjoying what he’d gained at all.

Henk couldn’t understand Lauriel, but the young man, who saw him wholly as a benefactor, still earnestly warned: “Lauriel, those fields aren’t a blessing or wealth—they’re a curse.”

“They’ve produced so much, but in the end… they’ll devour everyone. Be careful. You have to be careful.”

With that, he boarded the carriage, ready to leave this “land of miracles.”

Lauriel stood on the street outside the residence, smoking his cigar until the carriage vanished from sight.

Then he muttered to himself: “People, huh? Sure enough, as long as the experiences are intense enough, they grow. Even a brainless idiot like Henk can say something like that. But… heh.”

The man gave a cold laugh: “Only those who pin all their hopes on that patch of dirt will get devoured completely. I’ve never put my hopes in a pile of mud, Henk.”

Escorted by guards, Lauriel soon arrived at the Pelican Guild.

Today, Rozokaira had specifically summoned him, though Lauriel didn’t know why.

As he entered the room, he saw the now-famous master of the Pelican Guild lounging on a sofa, looking refreshed and enthusiastically greeting him: “Sent that young Henk off already?”

Lauriel nodded, sitting down in silence.

“Haha, thanks to that fool—whoever he was—we’re making money hand over fist now!”

Rozokaira laughed heartily: “The farmers you brought in, their shares are squeezed as low as can be, and not only do they not complain, they think they’re coming out ahead! All thanks to that idiot who didn’t know the rules. No idea who he was or where he got the guts, but since there’s not a peep from him now, I bet the big shots up top have already taken him out. Perfect!”

The merchant snapped his fingers, signaling the maid in the room to pour wine, while saying:

“However, Lauriel, there’s one thing… I’m extremely curious about.”

“What’s that?”

Rozokaira stared at Lauriel for a long time before finally asking:

“What exactly do you want?”

He picked up the poured wine, stood up, and said:

“Now, all the potions are in your hands. You can partner with whoever you want. The entire Empire is full of people eager to work with you.”

“But you’re still staying in Little Pelican City, lingering here… Are you afraid of breaking some unknown rule set by that big shot, or is it something else?”

“Your desire for money is far less than I expected, almost as if… you don’t care about it at all. So what do you really want?”

“Does it matter?” Lauriel replied calmly to Rozokaira’s question. “The money I can bring you is enough.”

“Heh heh heh… Money, sure, it’s enough. More than enough—so much that I’m already thinking of ways to save my own skin!”

Rozokaira, who had initially boasted about how much money the Pelican Guild was making, suddenly roared: “I only just realized, you lunatic, you’re pushing the Pelican Guild to a place it doesn’t belong! Not just Little Pelican City, not just Watson Territory, but the entire damn Empire! And in just one month!”

He slammed his wine glass onto the floor, his neck flushed red as he shouted: “It’s out of control! Who knows when this game will end! One wrong move… and I’ll be crushed to pieces, and so will you!”

Yes, under the constraints of that big shot, all business dealings had to be conducted fairly.

The Pelican Guild hadn’t faced malicious competition or forced acquisitions.

On the contrary, guilds from all over flocked to it.

During this time, Rozokaira had met countless leaders and controllers of massive organizations—people he’d never have met in his lifetime.

They discussed business and market trends cordially, even offering to invest vast sums of money.

And Rozokaira had gone from being flattered to ecstatic, and now to trembling with fear, walking on thin ice.

This game would end one day, and he couldn’t imagine what the Pelican Guild, or he himself, would face when that day came.

Even now, before the game’s end, he was already terrified beyond measure.

Lauriel’s ambiguous intentions only deepened his fear. Rozokaira even wondered if Lauriel was a pawn of that big shot, if he himself had already been maneuvered into a deadly trap.

“So… what are you trying to say?” Lauriel remained unmoved by Rozokaira’s furious outburst.

Staring at him for a long time, Rozokaira suddenly burst into laughter, a hysterical laugh that seemed to release all the fear and pressure he’d accumulated.

“Hahahahaha… What am I trying to say? Nothing, nothing at all. I’ve only got one thing to say.”

The man, as if unburdened of all his weight, said word by word:

“This bomb is yours to hold, Lauriel. I’m out.”

“The Pelican Guild is yours now, you lunatic.”

With that, Rozokaira, as if relieved of a great burden, crushed the glass shards of the wine glass underfoot, letting out a satisfied groan: “Damn it… it’s finally… finally over.”

But Lauriel remained calm, as if he didn’t care at all that the now Empire-famous Pelican Guild had fallen into his hands.

Rozokaira looked at him as if he were a monster, then shook his head: “You’re beyond crazy… How did I ever think to work with you, Lauriel? What the hell… ugh, why’s it getting so hot?”

The man, puzzled, shed his coat, but the heat didn’t subside.

As he grew confused, Lauriel, who had been as still as a statue, suddenly stood up.

“Hey, what’s—”

In the instant their eyes met, Rozokaira immediately shut his mouth.

Because he saw it—in the eyes of this farmer who cared nothing for money, he saw a chilling, utterly mad… craving.

The next moment, the entire ceiling of the room was incinerated by blood-flame.

An arrogant, noble voice echoed from the heavens, resounding through all of Little Pelican City:

“So this is the so-called… land of miracles?”

At the same time, a handsome noble youth arrived at the gates of Little Pelican City.

He led a delicate, doll-like girl by the hand—so delicate that, without close inspection, one might truly mistake her for a doll.

Because her noble, mysterious purple eyes were dull and lifeless.