WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈
Chapter 265: Family Interview (2)
──────
"Hmm."
The Heretic Inquisitor stroked his chin.
“Why I became a psycho…”
-Yes, Lime.
“Hmm. That’s a difficult question.”
From beyond the hologram, he groaned and pondered deeply. The Heretic Inquisitor's serious face was the same, whether he was facing a complex math problem or this situation.
It was both his strength and weakness.
At least, it wasn’t the face his children wanted from a parent.
-Why are you so obsessed with success?
Thus, Seimslam continued her offensive.
-Why do you pour all your energy into distinguishing [what’s useful] and [what’s not]? It would be fine if it were just distinguishing, but why are you so eager to categorize everything [quickly]?
In the presence of all Mountain Snail Tribe members.
No, even other races watched as Seimslam interrogated their god---a deity who once ruled the continent with absolute faith in an ancient empire.
-A person is not omnipotent. There is much we do not know. It is impossible to discern at a glance what potential lies hidden in the child before us. That is why we become humble and modest, and patiently grant that child a period of grace until their abilities blossom. That is what should be called education. Laimu. But why does Kukra try to sort everything into [useful] and [useless] so quickly?
She questioned the parent.
-Father, why do you live like that?
"......"
-Can’t you live differently? Really?
Night began to fall in the jungle.
The last glow of sunset slipped from the damp palm leaves and vanished. Fwoosh! The Fairy Tribe hurried about, setting torches here and there. Roar! Then the races that had been hidden by the forest shade, the whole panorama of the Mountain Snail Tribe among them, emerged in the dim firelight.
-......
-......
Hundreds of thousands of Mountain Snail Tribe members.
They were a race that crawled over the ground and climbed walls, able to go anywhere, yet spent their whole lives carrying the homes they inhabited on their backs, inside snail shells. This race, destined for both freedom and bondage, now held its breath as one and listened to the conversation between Seimslam and the Heretic Inquisitor.
-Lime…
-Laimu.
It wasn’t because they were overwhelmed by Seimslam’s power.
Nor were they overawed by the Heretic Inquisitor’s divinity.
It was simply that Seimslam was speaking for the entire Mountain Snail Tribe. On behalf of all her people, she had scraped together every word they needed to say to their parent, every question they wanted to ask, every grievance they wanted to voice, every reproach they wanted to make, every last scream, and shaped them into questions for this meeting.
Effectively, Seimslam became the spokesperson for their race, or more precisely, the elder sister. As the elder sister pointed out the parent's faults, the other Mountain Snail Tribe members sat quietly around like younger siblings.
It was just on a massive scale.
It was, quite literally, a meeting with their parent.
"Hmm."
Thud.
The Heretic Inquisitor slowly descended from the air and sat opposite Seimslam. He had cut off the [Holy Technique-Teleportation]. Now, nothing separated the parent and child, not a difference in eye-level, not heaven and earth.
Only the torches someone had lit flickered quietly.
“Seimslam. I can apologize to all of you at any time. The empire fell because I was not thorough enough. Every privilege you enjoyed disappeared, and from then on the Mountain Snail Tribe was reduced to a people no more significant than a single barony, mining salt on the frontier and supplying it to the Earth Spirit Tribe. That was my failure. On that matter, even if I had ten mouths I would have no excuse, so I apologize...”
-No, that’s not it.
Seimslam stroked her face with her tentacle.
It seemed she was using the tentacle to massage the tension that kept gathering between her brows.
-The first empire, the glory of our childhood, our failed childhood, and the present that has returned us to mere laborers... I am not blaming you for that course of change. No. On the contrary, Father did extraordinarily well.
“Huh?”
-What race in this world has ever become master of the continent, even once? The Mountain Snail Tribe. The Earth Spirit Tribe. Are those not the only two? Father reached a height attained by only two races in the world. Though you later fell, Lime, we respect your ability.
"......"
-We’re not questioning your success or failure. Look at us.
Seimslam approached closer.
-Look at us. Kukra.
Her sole remaining tentacle, scarred by many wars, pressed firmly over the back of the Heretic Inquisitor’s hand.
"......"
The Heretic Inquisitor looked.
-Look at us, Father.
And then.
Seimslam wore a smile exactly like the one the Heretic Inquisitor had made.
Faced with that smile, the Heretic Inquisitor was paralyzed for a moment.
-We throw useless children into blue stone caves and laugh, saying, ‘Lime, it can’t be helped.’ It might be our wickedness. It might be laughter born from cruelty. But it’s different, Father.
"......"
-It’s the innocent laughter you implanted in us.
『Ah! Unfortunately, this is useless!』
『Shall we throw it away?』
『Ahaha.』
-We might look a little different, with more or fewer arms than you, Father.
Seimslam playfully wiggled her one remaining tentacle.
-But still, we’ve inherited almost everything from you. What you intended and what you didn’t. Your laughter, gestures, the weight you chose to carry in this world… everything.
"......"
-So, Father, you don’t need to thank us for establishing the first empire, nor apologize for our fall from it. Those are trivial matters. I, we, want to know.
-Why did you become such a psycho.
Because.
-So we can understand why we are psychos like this.
Every antenna among the Mountain Snail Tribe turned toward the Heretic Inquisitor.
-Speak, Father.
"......"
-We want to know ourselves.
Silence followed.
In the sticky stillness, the Heretic Inquisitor opened his lips.
“I...”
-......
“I am……"
[The 40th floor quest is currently in progress.]
And then.
2.
-No, why are you so obsessed with making money?
The Fairy Tribe surrounded the Countess.
The air in the jungle was noisy, like a hearing, and the Fairies, despite their beautiful faces, scowled viciously, launching a relentless assault on their [god].
-It’s always about money. Doing or not doing, it's always money. The world is all about money, seriously.
“So, does that make you feel bad?”
The Countess puffed on a hookah and breathed out a long stream of smoke. It was a product developed by the Fairy Tribe, and she had just paid a premium to buy it. A parent had purchased something developed by her children, but as the atmosphere made clear, no one found the occasion particularly heartwarming.
“Earning money should feel good, right? Isn’t it?”
-Well, handling money does feel good, but... honestly, couldn’t you have taught us something besides money?
“What? Music? Songs? Art? Ways to exaggerate and advertise yourself by crying that the world is so beautiful you could die? Or ways to screw over everyone else by declaring that you are so beautiful the world would be better off dead?”
"......"
“I do not know any of those things. I cannot teach you anything except how to make money.”
-Why is that?
“I was born a nobody’s kid.”
Through the smoke of the water pipe, the Countess smirked.
“My house was so poor, actually, we didn’t even have a house. Ever heard of a garbage city? Maybe not. The world I was born in was much larger than your continent and had far more people. So much so that the garbage discarded by people could build mountains.”
-Ah....
“But every so often, some of that garbage could be recycled. There was garbage worth money, in other words. Naturally, merchants gathered around it. Garbage someone had eaten from and thrown away, garbage someone had wiped their ass with and thrown away, garbage someone had played with and thrown away, garbage someone had fucked on and thrown away... We dug through every kind of refuse to bring back whatever was still worth [money].”
-Oh…
Every member of the Fairy Tribe possessed sharp business instincts. They promptly ran the figures in their heads.
-Is that a profitable business? The profit margin seems too slim.
"Heh heh."
The Countess chuckled, seemingly in a good mood.
“It won’t make money, right? It's lousy, isn’t it?”
-Yes.
“Right. Exactly. That is why my daily earnings were worth less than a little kid’s booger.”
-.......
“And if the adults shook me down for even that, practically nothing remained in my hands. What else could I do? I had to spring up while the adults were asleep and secretly work an extra shift digging through the garbage heaps. If they caught me, they beat me to pieces. I slept in four or five installments a day and carried on as though nothing was wrong. That was the only way to collect as much valuable trash as possible.”
-.......
“Listen well, my children. At least, those who are like my children.”
The Countess slowly put down her water pipe.
Then, bending her waist, she whispered to the Fairy Tribe, tens of thousands of them looking at her.
In a dark voice. Using telepathy.
“Don’t whine about why I didn't teach you anything else. The moment you whine about such things, you're already proving that you’re nothing more than a brat.”
-.......
“Making money is hard. The act of making money itself is a stroke of luck."
The Countess’s eyes brimmed with demonic energy.
“A moneyless child. Say, a little kid living in the heart of a garbage city like me, suddenly wishes one day to [learn the piano] intensely. That's a delusion, isn’t it? It only looks beautiful in dreams. If that child really wants to learn the piano, they’d have to luckily find a used piano in a trash heap, luckily find an old man nearby who knows how to tune pianos, and, furthermore, luckily gather readable sheet music from the trash, and, finally, be lucky enough to have musical talent.”
-.......
“For someone without money, the mere wish to learn something, to want to do something, is a lifetime gamble. It’s betting all your time, luck, life, everything, on a gamble that might just be within reach.”
-.......
“What about you?”
The Countess scanned the audience.
As some of the Fairy Tribe met her gaze, their shoulders twitched. Among them were certainly fairies who had lived longer than the Countess, but the pressure emanating from the 5th ranked being of the tower was too much to handle.
“What do you think?”
It was easy to forget when she occasionally transformed into a cat and lazily batted at foxtail grass.
The Countess had been born among the lowest of the low in a garbage village, then risen to become the great merchant who held every commercial sphere in the Tower in her grasp.
There were few humans on this continent, in our tower, or even in the outside world who could withstand the venom in the Countess's breath.
“Want to learn music? Pay up. Use money to find a teacher. Buy music sheets. Buy an instrument. Yes, picking an instrument might be a bit troubling. It's quite expensive. Choose your instrument while alternating between considering your passion for music and your family’s financial leeway. Carefully... Yes, carefully.”
The Countess laughed.
It was a laugh refined from long-aged poison.
“Money allows you to worry.”
-.......
“Money gives you countless possibilities. Music? Try it, and if it does not seem right, quit. It will cost a little money, but you possess that little bit of money, do you not? Many people are mistaken, but money is neither a goal nor a result. It is a [starting point]. As your parent, I merely gave you that starting point.”
The Countess pulled out a fan from her bosom.
“So, [why did our parent only teaches us how to make money]? Is that your worry? Good. Very good. Go ahead and worry. Even if you waste time worrying, you won’t starve to death because you didn’t earn your daily wage, right? Waste it cheerfully.”
-.......
“Worry, thought, contemplation. All of these are [pleasant] luxuries. Every time you immerse in worry, every time you dive into contemplation, you subconsciously realize how lavishly you’re living your life. See? These subtle luxuries are what make you great. Or at least, they plant the illusion that you’ve become great.”
The Countess smiled.
Then she opened her fan and covered her lower face with it.
“To think when you want, to live where you desire, to do what you wish. I call this freedom. Money frees you. Only money does.”
-.......
“Let me ask once more. My children. Or at least, those who are like my children.”
The Countess, with cat-like eyes, surveyed the tens of thousands of Fairy Tribe members.
“Were you unhappy to be born as my child?”
“Or did you [think] you were unhappy?”
“If so, how did you feel at the moment you thought, [I was unhappy because I was born as that person’s child]? Did it feel bad? Or maybe…”
The Countess chuckled.
“Did you perhaps feel a little impressed with yourself for being capable of such a thought, a little prouder of yourself, or even just a little happier?”
-.......
“As I said, thoughts and worries, contemplation, are all pleasant luxuries.”
It was a smile like a dark crescent moon.
That crescent moon chuckled out loud, "Aha."
“In my view, your lives seem quite pleasant?”
And then.
[The 41st floor quest is currently in progress.]
3.
-Why did you choose us?
The Gill-Fin Tribe asked the Paladin.
-We are beings who live in water. In contrast, the great dolphin... You seem to be a being who lives on land. Our worlds are too different.
The Gill-Fin Tribe resembled mermaids.
With wave-like tattoos all over their bodies, when the Gill Fishes swam together, it looked like beautiful waves washing the shore. They were a water tribe.
-Kekerkker chose the Earth Spirit Tribe. Lime chose the Mountain Snail Tribe. While they look very different, both were born and live on land. They have more similarities than differences. But, why did you choose us?
The Gill Fishes were still gathered in the river.
-Why us?
The Paladin sat on a huge rock that had emerged above the river, surrounded by thousands of Gill Fishes--- perhaps tens of thousands, including children swimming underwater.
"......."
The Paladin gazed down at the river.
Blue moonlight shimmered on the jungle river.
On closer inspection, it was not moonlight but the tails of the Gill-Fin Tribe. With their arms folded on the rock and their bodies submerged, they flicked and slapped their tails against the water. Whenever they splashed, moonlight caught in the droplets and shattered brilliantly.
“On land...”
Watching the moon break apart at the water’s edge, the Paladin spoke.
“I did not want you to live on land.”
-What?
“When you live on land... you begin to hate the land. Slowly, little by little, one by one, you come to hate everything that walks upon it. You come to despise it. Everything that breathes on land begins to look dreadful.”
Clank.
The Paladin slowly removed her helmet. The blond hair compressed inside its iron confinement spilled free with a gasp.
“I did not want to raise you that way.”
-......
“I hoped that with every breath, you would smell not the contempt of this world, but only the cool scent of the sea. I did not want the heavy gravity of the world’s people to drag you down as you swam. I wanted the light waves and merciful surface to receive every stroke you made.”
The Paladin murmured as she looked down at the moon reflected in the water. Her falling blond hair covered the side of her face and hid her mouth. Her voice seemed to seep not from her lips, but from the moon reflected at the water’s edge.
“The air is too light. The ground is too hard. Humans... people like me remain unquestionably alive, yet walking is so easy and standing is so easy that it is difficult to feel our own existence at every moment. We have grown accustomed to it.”
-......
“But you are different.”
Splash.
Someone waved a tail, sending ripples across the river. No second ripple crossed it. Tens of thousands of Gill-Fin people had stopped moving their tails and were silently gazing at their mother.
“The surface is light. The depths are heavy. The seafloor must be dreadful. Unlike us when we walk... whenever you swim, you will feel the world. You will feel your own body, its contours, its existence, as it swims forward through that world. When you skillfully dive into and pierce through a wave bearing down upon you, then raise your head to see the bright sunlight shining over the sea, I thought... you would be happy. I thought you would rejoice.”
-......
“I hoped you would delight in your own skill at swimming, marvel at the sea’s changing color each day, and enjoy the ever-changing taste of the water flowing through your gills. Then, when you tired of the sea and its waves, you would rise above the surface and look at the land... at everything upon it. Green and brown, gray, crimson autumn leaves, golden wheat fields, so many things would enter your eyes. And when you saw them...”
The Paladin spoke.
“I hoped you would find them beautiful.”
-......
“I wanted you to find the land beautiful, to cherish and love everything that walks upon it and everything that breathes there.”
The sound of flowing water could be heard. The jungle river was so dark that its murmur could not be distinguished from birdsong in the forest. Soft chatter flowed from every corner of the world.
“That is why I chose you.”
The Paladin raised her head.
“I chose your people, the Gill-Fin Tribe known as mermaids.”
-......
“Was that too much greed on my part?”
-Yes.
Splash.
-It was too greedy.
The queen of the Gill-Fin Tribe stirred the water with her tail.
-But... compared with the other parents, with the gods of the other races, it was a truly lovely kind of greed.
The mermaid extended a webbed hand and stroked the blond hair of the mother who had suffocated beneath iron armor. The Paladin flinched and drew a breath. It was damp, carrying the river’s moisture from so near the water. The breath inhaled by a human and the breath exhaled by a mermaid were not very different at all.
Cool droplets clung to hair the color of the moon and ran down it.
-I am very happy that you are our mother.
And then.
[The 42nd floor quest is currently in progress.]
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