Chapter 100 Why Birds... (Sorry for the title) [VIP]
The farm area planned by the player is full of vitality. The crops in the neatly arranged ridges are shining with a lush green luster in the afterglow of the setting sun. The automated irrigation system is working silently, and the sprayed water mist reflects tiny rainbows in the air.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of earth and plants, and the increasingly rich sweet aroma of fruits and vegetables wafting from the fruit racks. In the distance, the faint sounds of playfulness drifted from the "dormitory area."
An atmosphere of peace and tranquility pervades this place, an "order" under the absolute control of the players.
"Hey, you're back?" A lazy voice sounded.
Following the sound, the player saw Dazai Osamu leaning against the fruit stand at the farm entrance. He had changed out of his ceremony clothes and was wearing an oversized beige sweater, which made him look even thinner.
He seemed to be casually holding something in his hand, and waved his other hand at the player. His iris-colored eyes, with a smile, swept over her and Oda Sakunosuke behind her.
"Dazai! Why are you here?" The player was a little surprised and glanced behind him. "Where's the game? Where's the arcade? Where's Chuuya?"
Dazai's smile deepened, with a hint of teasing: "The game ended 'successfully', and the game console was also 'smoothly' won. As for Chuuya..."
He drawled out his words, "I was hugging my hard-earned game console, tears streaming down my face, while guzzling stomach-strengthening and digestion-promoting pills."
Dazai spread his hands helplessly, "It's too tragic. I can't bear to watch it. I just came out to get some fresh air."
The player chuckled, imagining the tragic expression on his face right now.
Her eyes fell on the hand Dazai had been stroking, and she took a closer look curiously, "What are you playing?"
Dazai opened his palm.
It was a paper bird that had just been simply folded and not yet colored.
"Oh?" The player's eyes lit up. "You can also fold origami?"
She remembered the content about Dazai in Oda Sakunosuke's notebook, which seemed to mention that he could fold some small things?
Dazai Osamu looked at the player's eyes, which suddenly became bright and full of "interesting" ideas, and alarm bells rang in his heart. He instantly had a bad premonition.
He calmly tried to put the paper bird back into his pocket, saying perfunctorily, "Ah, just a little toy to pass the time..."
The player picked up the paper bird lightly and happily took out the rare item [Heroic Triumph] from his backpack.
She will give this paper bird a life like any other living thing.
The grayish-white paper bird seemed to tremble slightly the moment the player's fingertips touched the light of [Heroic Triumph]. When the player withdrew the artifact, it lay quietly in her palm.
It was still made of paper, and the creases were clearly visible, but everything was different.
It was no longer a still, dead object. Its chest rose and fell slightly, as if a miniature heart was beating inside.
The wingtips, covered with thin paper, twitched ever so slightly, making a barely audible "puff" sound. A pair of tiny black eyes, freshly drawn with ink by the player, remained dull and lifeless, but the empty silence within them was replaced by an indescribable, newborn, ignorant spirituality.
A paper bird that is given "life".
Dazai Osamu's smile froze on his face, and his incredibly insightful iris-colored eyes were fixed on the paper bird in the player's palm.
His fingers, reaching out to retrieve the paper bird, froze in mid-air. He sensed no energy fluctuations, no trace of spells or supernatural powers—this bird, a dead object he had folded with his own hands just a moment before, had completely "come alive" simply because the player had touched that strange object and then placed it back in his palm?
This extraordinary change, silent and unnoticeable, was a different kind of miracle than the previous one. Even he was shocked by this pure and direct display of power, and a storm of shock surged within him.
"This is..." For the first time, Dazai Osamu's voice no longer had the deliberate ease, but instead carried a hint of barely perceptible inquiry and... interest?
——
The player didn't think too much of it. She looked at the curious little gadget in her palm with satisfaction, pinched its feathers, and the bird tilted its head in confusion.
Isn’t it interesting, to wield miracles and power recklessly and make the impossible possible.
Isn't this what you want to play in "Multi-Dimensional Life"?
The player pinched the newly born bird and gently placed it on Dazai Osamu's open palm, which was still frozen in the air.
"Here, I'm giving it back to you," she said with a smile, her tone as relaxed as if she were sharing a piece of candy. "Take it and play with it. It's a moving paper bird. Hahahaha, how fun!"
The paper bird landed in Dazai Osamu's cool palm, tilting its head in a state of discomfort. Its wings rustled, and the paper scraped against it, making a subtle sound. Its faint spirit seemed to be trying to comprehend the new touch and environment.
Dazai's fingers finally moved, very slowly, and then he retracted his fingers without using too much force, as if he was afraid that they would break.
He lowered his head and looked at his palm carefully.
The undercurrent in his eyes gradually settled into a pure, exploratory light of excitement. The corners of his mouth curled up again, but the arc was much deeper than before.
——
What is life?
What about human righteousness?
This depressing, gloomy world filled with petty intrigues and schemes... Why on earth do humans want to survive in such a world?
Ritsujima Shuji has been thinking about this question since he was very young.
The father is a councillor, the mother is from the old Chinese family, the deaf-mute servants, the children fighting for attention... In this huge yet extremely small world.
Traditional, old-fashioned, and unchanging...even eating is so serious and heavy that it makes people reluctant to pick up their chopsticks.
His mother was the only bright spot in his stagnant life.
She had taught him to fold butterflies, boats, and birds out of expensive Japanese paper in a corner of the huge and quiet Japanese-style room.
Paper is dead, rules are dead, people’s hearts are dead, the world is dead, only illusions are short-lived.
Giving inanimate objects an imaginative gesture and letting them occupy an empty space was his initial understanding of “meaning”: an exquisite yet useless decoration, just like his Chinese identity itself.
Then my mother died, leaving quietly with only a little color left.
For the first time, he truly felt the taste of death - bitter.
Later, Ritsujima Shuji also "died" and became Dazai Osamu.
He sank into the abyss, rolling and struggling in the muddy and filthy darkness, using even louder noise to cover up the seemingly endless empty echo in the depths of his soul.
The meaning of life? He chewed on this phrase countless times, like savoring a piece of chewing gum that had completely lost its flavor.
Hurting others to prove your existence? For a vague sense of responsibility? For a fleeting love? Or simply because... you're too lazy to die?
All answers seem pale and powerless before the absolute finality of death.
It hangs over everyone's head like the sword of Damocles, waiting for the only hug.
He began to approach death, testing it, teasing it, as if flirting with a cold lover, expecting it to eventually give a clear, eternal answer.
Destruction is an end, but perhaps also a kind of clarity?
However, in an instant, a dead object "came alive" in his palm.
Its life is a spark that is forcibly ignited, it is absolutely "unnatural", and it is a "miracle" created by the player at will.
It is not the product of long evolution, nor is it a sophisticated genetic code. It doesn't even have a body made of protein!
It was just a piece of cheap, thin paper that he had folded casually, painted eyes on with ink, and then... it came to life.
The player gave it "existence" itself. There was no pain, no meaningless torture, no heavy burden of living towards death.
The player's smug and nonchalant laugh—"Go ahead and play with it...it's so much fun!"—echoed sharply in his stagnant thoughts.
The tone was as light as throwing out a candy, rather than spreading the concept of "life", which is heavy enough to make countless philosophers ponder for their entire lives.
Life - this "thing" that he repeatedly pondered, despised, and even longed to end - in the hands of the player, can be... as light as l?
It's not a natural necessity, it's not God's mercy, it's not the continuation of genes, but... it's interesting.
Only l.
Is this the player's answer to the meaning of life?
He began to fall into deep thought.
The player had already turned around and walked towards the dormitory area with Oda Sakunosuke, leaving him and this new, fragile life in the gradually thickening night.
The sounds of laughter from the distant farm dormitory drifted in with the wind, carrying with them a carefree and everyday atmosphere.
Dazai Osamu lowered his head and lightly stroked the edge of the paper bird's folded wings with his fingertips.
The touch of the paper felt real, yet the living force beneath, driving its subtle undulations, seemed illusory. Its spirit was innocent and pure, bearing none of the pain and struggle that the world imposes on intelligent life.
Destruction is the end... but the meaning of the end itself, in front of this power that can easily ignite the miracle of life, also seems... so pale and powerless?
If death is not the only "absolute", if the form of life can be created so absurdly and arbitrarily... then is "meaning" itself also a kind of paint that can be applied at will?
Is there no essential difference between this and the piece of paper in your hand that is folded into a bird shape and forcibly lit?
A new, unprecedented feeling, a mixture of icy chills and scorching excitement, surged and collided in his blood. It was a kind of... a strong desire to explore.
In the iris-colored eyes, the shock wave caused by the previous display of power gradually subsided, and was replaced by a pure and extreme, burning dark light.
It's no longer scrutiny, no longer calculation, but something like... a childlike desire for pure knowledge and experimentation that has seen the entrance to an endless new world, even though this desire is as deep as the abyss.
This subversive and brisk blow opened a hole in his soul. His previous relentless pursuit of meaning and lingering obsession with death burned even more vigorously under the bright light of the higher dimension of "possibility".
To creatures of higher dimensions, what meaning does human life hold? Like a blade of grass? Like a mayfly? Like this piece of paper gently "breathing" in his palm? Is its value solely... whether it pleases the player?
What exactly do players define as "life"? Is it a resource bar in the game? Is it a string of code that can be modified at will? Is it... a "movable model" created solely for observation or interaction?
On his quest for meaning, he'd climbed cliffs and fallen into abysses, and now... someone had casually sprinkled a handful of stars over his head. So...
"Ha..." A short, almost discordant sound came out of Dazai Osamu's throat.
He gently raised his palm so that the naive paper bird could fully see his face. He looked into the ink-spotted eyes that reflected his figure, and whispered slowly and clearly, in a tone that was a mixture of inducement and declaration:
"Hey...stay alive?"
"Live until the day I can...completely 'understand'."
The paper bird tilted its head, and Little Black Bean didn't blink, obviously unable to understand the complicated sentence.
It just instinctively felt that the light flashing in the eyes of the human who was holding it made its fragile paper body seem to feel a hint of invisible, unknown pressure.
Then, it gently shook its wings.
Dazai Osamu smiled, and this time, there was no pretense or mockery in his smile, only pure, lively interest as if he had found a new toy.
He carefully retracted his fingers, as if collecting a priceless treasure he had just discovered, and held it in his palm close to his slightly cold chest.
He took a step forward, without the slightest hesitation, humming a light ballad as he followed. The slight trembling of the paper bird in his palm was clearly transmitted through the thin layer of fabric, reminding him that what had just happened was no dream.
A new "reason for living", as absurd as l and yet as... tempting as l, is quietly growing in the nascent life at his fingertips.
——
Lin Chen was humming a song and skipping along the road.
From a distance, you can hear the noisy chattering of young people, which dispels the twilight atmosphere with its energetic voice.
"Player! Oda! You're back!" The sharp-eyed Shirase was the first to spot them, immediately running over with his arms waving. His face flushed with excitement, "We won! Chuuya is amazing!"
Behind him, Yuuko nodded excitedly, "Game consoles! Chuuya won us several awesome ones!"
She looked at Nakahara Chuuya, who was surrounded in the middle, with sparkling eyes.
I still remember that these two were the most rebellious at the time, but when the player was trying out [Heroic Triumph], they ran away with some children, and the player had no time to pay attention to them at that time.
A few days later, they remembered to teleport them back after receiving a system reminder (that residents' lives were threatened). At that time, they looked frightened and uneasy.
——But his eyes are clear now.
After that, I continued to write calligraphy quietly.
The player thought that if he didn't take revenge on her, she would seem easy to bully, so he borrowed L to recruit some labor.
Nakahara Chuuya stood among his companions, trying hard to put on a cool face, but his slightly raised chin and the tiredness and satisfaction in his eyes that still lingered betrayed his feelings. In his hand, he held a gift bag that looked like it had been provided by the organizers (it contained several game consoles and cartridges).
"Hmph, just a big eating contest." Chuuya snorted, his eyes sweeping over the players and Oda, "Where were you two going? You missed the fun."
There was a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone, but more of curiosity.
Oda Sakunosuke calmly replied, "I went to the warehouse with Player."
He stated the facts without any intention of exaggerating the process.
The player nodded and continued naturally, "Yeah, I dealt with a little trouble and got a useless little thing."
Her assessment of the "End of the Altruist," which could blow up cities and even galaxies, was as light as pointing at a small stone on the roadside.
"Trouble?" Dazai Osamu's voice came lazily from the side. He hadn't noticed when he'd hurried to catch up, and now he was leaning against the simple wooden fence at the farm entrance, slowly rolling the bandage hanging from his wrist with his fingertips.
Her iris-colored eyes gleamed with a penetrating glint in the dim light. "Ah, could that be the explosion in the warehouse over in the old port area? It's far away, but there's definitely an unusual vibration coming from that direction."
He smiled, his eyes moving meaningfully around the player, "Player, are you frying fish again? It's making quite a noise, even on the farm you can feel the dust rising."
He pointed to the almost negligible speck of dust on the edge of his trousers.
"Explosion?" Chuuya frowned and looked at the player. "Well, tell me, who messed with you again?"
Shirase and Yukan also looked at the player nervously.
The player blinked, looking innocent. "No, I didn't fry any fish. I just went in for a 'friendly' visit, cleared out some illegally leftover trash, and took away a small item they had illegally taken."
She paused and added, "It was very peaceful. There wasn't even a crack in the ground. The dust was created by their own bumping."
She emphasized her perfect handling of the scene—explosion? Not happening!
"Ranpo-san?" Chuuya asked Ranpo who was strolling over.
Ranpo, holding a lollipop in his mouth, glanced at the player and said, "Well, from her perspective, it's indeed peaceful."
"Don't worry about that, Chuuya." Ranpo pointed at the gift box in his hand. "Hurry up and open it. Ribaike also has some very popular game cartridges that I didn't even get."
"Ah? Ranpo-san will also go to grab the game cartridges?" Chuuya asked curiously while putting the gift box on the table next to him. Immediately, the children around swarmed over and surrounded the table.
"Normally, no." Ranpo shook his head and gave the player a sly smile. "But this is different. I guess it has something to do with Lin Chen."
"Me?" The player blinked and pointed at himself.
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