Volume 10 Bugs Chapter 33: Two-Hour Cheap Savior
"Then what should I do?" I didn't know how to refute Carlson's words, so I could only shout anxiously, "Then what should the world do? Let that hysterical old maid spread the poison throughout the Falvi continent? Let all living things in this world lose their souls and become zombies that rot forever? Let the whole world become a rotten place where evil spirits roam?"
"What do you want me to do!" I originally just wanted to emphasize the seriousness of the matter, but in the end I was frightened by the desperate future scene I described. I shouted at the old troll at the top of my lungs, "Sit with you in this shabby house that I don't know how to get out of or how to get in, and chat and laugh?"
"I can't watch this world destroyed and do nothing! I can't do it!!!" Standing in front of him, I waved my arms excitedly, my cheeks became hot and swollen due to the gushing of blood, and dark blue blood veins burst out on my forehead.
"Destruction?" The old troll Carlson remained calm. He lowered his head and murmured this word that made me feel a little panicked, chewing it in his mouth a few times with a playful look, and then turned his cloudy eyes and glanced at me with a mocking look:
"You don't know what true destruction is. Believe me, you are far from understanding this..." He sighed softly and said to me dejectedly, "...Do you think that when all souls are extinct, it is destruction? No, it is far from it. The soul is asleep but there are still bones and flesh. When the bones and flesh decay, there is still soil. When the soil collapses, there is still flowing water. When the flowing water dries up, stones are exposed. When the stones break into dust, the dust floats away, leaving behind wind and mist. The wind and mist cannot blow away the glory. When the glory dims, floating clouds float by..."
"Death is not destruction, my friend, far from it. To this world, all life is just an insignificant passerby, including me, you, and those decayed beings who seem to have gained eternal life. The world is free, and our life or death, victory or defeat, are just a tiny, fleeting 'phenomenon'."
"Toxins can't destroy this world, Jeff, my friend, and you can't save it either. What you said is far from the real 'destruction'. The real destruction is not violence, fear, worry, or hopelessness. It is an absolute obliteration, the erasure of all traces of existence, no past, no future, no matter what, no matter what spirit. I have shown you the origin of this world, and the real destruction is to erase all the symbols in that origin, without a 1 or a 0, all is darkness, chaos. That is the real end, the end of no existence, just like the beginning of no existence in the legend . Whether this world is destroyed or not only depends on the thoughts of those gods and spirits. My friend, it does not depend on me, nor on you..."
"Enough!" I jumped up impatiently to interrupt his long speech. I guess this old guy with green skin and fangs has been lonely for too long. He finally found me who can chat with him and started nagging endlessly. "I'm not here to listen to these unrealistic religious preachings. I came... came... I didn't come to this damn place on my own initiative! I don't care what is the 'real' destruction. I only know that if I don't take action, billions of lives on the Falvi continent will become rotten meat. If you are unwilling to help me, let me go. Even if I fight to my last breath, I will never give up the last hope. Besides, I would rather stay with the god of death for ten thousand years than talk to a philosopher for one more minute!"
"Oh?" Carlson showed a hint of disappointment and helplessness. "I thought you were smart enough to think a little about what I said, and maybe become my companion on the road of wisdom. But what's disappointing is that you are a radical left-wing violent anti-war activist..."
This unfamiliar evaluation of me made me feel a little confused. I looked at him in confusion, not knowing what kind of person he was describing me as, but I was too embarrassed to ask.
The old troll saw my embarrassment and rolled his eyes at me. His eyes, which were already very scarce, showed signs of severe late-stage cataracts:
"...simple-minded, strong-limbed, with an excessive sense of justice, and overestimating one's own abilities..." He briefly explained the specific meaning of this adjective used to describe me.
Damn, those words don't sound like positive comments.
What’s even more damning is that I actually think these adjectives are quite suitable for me.
"...Since you think these true wisdoms are 'impractical'..." Carlson did not stop talking because of my frustration, "...then I will show you something practical..."
As he spoke, the old troll waved his arms, and a large piece of magic scroll that could reflect the real scene of the Stone Fortress appeared in the air. Unlike the last time, this scroll did not only show a simple image in a corner of the fortress, but was divided into hundreds of small grids, each of which showed an independent picture. In those pictures, there were not only zombies and broken tiles, but also the imperial invaders holding weapons and brutally hacking and killing, as well as the battle of iron and blood, and the desperate struggle and killing...
What surprised me the most was that there were many adventurers who were obviously from the Continental Alliance.
The scene in each picture is different, but the scene in each picture is so familiar that I can't deny that it is a corner in the fortress. These warriors who came from afar with the mission of liberation and salvation suffered different situations: at the city gate, a human beast tamer of only level 45 was just knocked to the ground by seven or eight vampires; and in the central square, a half-orc berserker of level 52 had already shouted and smashed the sixth poisonous zombie so that it could no longer move. Next to the collapsed city wall, five adventurers who were all elves were trying their best to resist the powerful enemy, and the monster approaching them step by step was actually... the three-headed polluter Meril? ! What's going on? Hasn't this artificial mutant monster been destroyed by us?
These tenacious and resolute adventurers were scattered in various corners of the fortress, some places were only a few steps away from each other, but they were all trying to complete their own adventure journeys and did not notice each other's existence at all - in fact, I did not find the existence of a second team of adventurers in any of the pictures.
In a picture near the center of this large scroll, I saw the most incredible scene: an adventure team with an average level of 55 - two humans, a minotaur, and two elves - were proudly standing on the top of the rubble fortress - the broken tower - lying at their feet was the body of the arrogant Black Knight Lady Arthur Denggot. The potion containing a strong toxin was broken on the ground and seeped into the cracks of the bricks and stones. It would never flow into the blood vessels of an innocent life and then spread to every corner of the Falvi continent...
They actually succeeded!
Blackadder died, the toxin was destroyed, the conspiracy of the last king was shattered, and the world was saved.
But……
Is all this true?
This good news came so suddenly and so hastily that even though I saw it with my own eyes, I still felt it was unreal. Perhaps... just perhaps... this false feeling came from a kind of loss that was not suitable to be told to others - the source of evil did not die in my hands after all, and the huge danger was not eliminated by me. It turned out that I was not as important to the survival of this world as I thought.
I once had this feeling: everything that happened here happened to me at the right time, not by coincidence, but by fate. My companions and I are the destined heroes, destined to resolve the crisis of this world. In one difficult battle after another, we will write our own heroic epic with weapons and blood, and our achievements will be widely praised like those heroic hymns two hundred years ago.
But now it seems that all this is just an illusion of my unrealistic pride.
Why did my companions and I risk our lives and even leave our bodies here? What was the purpose of those warriors who came here with the same passion and responsibility as us? All this did not start from us, nor did it end in our hands. We are just a group of fragile creatures saved by others. Facing such a reality, how can I not feel lost while feeling grateful?
Just when I was feeling lost, an inadvertent glance gave me a chill. In the lower right corner of the painting, the figure of Black Knight appeared again in a small frame. This time, she was bravely wielding a sledgehammer and fighting desperately with several opponents in front of her.
She...is not dead?
This is just the beginning. After discovering this incredible scene, I searched the entire picture more carefully, and then found that there were more than a dozen Black Knights. Their faces and clothes were completely the same, but their situations were different. Some of them beat their own team of opponents so badly that they couldn't raise their heads. Some were facing a difficult battle with equal strength. It was hard to say who would win the final victory. Some were already dying and looked like they couldn't hold on for much longer.
"It seems that you have already discovered..." The old troll Carlson saw my stunned expression, "...you are not the only one in the world who has time to save this fragile world. There are many superheroes like , and..." He looked at me mockingly and said sarcastically, "...it seems that they are luckier than you."
"This... this... what on earth is going on?" Although I have encountered countless incredible things in Carlson's place in such a short time, this scene still shocked me, "...how can there be so many..."
"In fact, there are more than you see." Carlson said slowly, "Remember when I told you how I became conscious? All this has been repeating over and over again since then. In fact, I'm not sure how many times it happened before I woke up. Everyone wanted to come here to kill that bad-tempered woman. Some people succeeded, and some people failed like you. But you see, those who succeeded did not stop all this from happening, and it seems that those unlucky people who failed did not let the outside world be destroyed. If it was going to be destroyed, it would have been destroyed a few months ago, and then you would have no chance of standing here."
"Although I don't know what the world outside is like , I feel that everything you and your companions, as well as those who have come here one after another, have done here, is in vain. You can't change anything except yourselves. No matter how much hard work you have put in here and how many brave lives you have sacrificed, as long as there are people coming here and walking into the gate of the fortress, a brand new space will open up for them, allowing all this to repeat. That is a world that belongs exclusively to them and has nothing to do with anyone else. Here, everyone can be the unique savior hero in his inner world... well... be a cheap hero for two hours."
"You mean, this is all an illusion, and everyone here is under an illusion?" His words made me even more confused, "Is this a trap set by the Doomsday Empire? Why did they build such a magical space?" Unconsciously, I began to use "them" to refer to those alien invaders. Although this old troll in front of me belongs to the camp that is hostile to me, in my heart, he has been completely separated from "them".
"Hallucination?" Carlson smiled slightly. "Then what is not an illusion? Before the origin of the world that is extremely real, extremely complex, and extremely boring, what is not an illusion? Am I not an illusion? How do you know that you are not an illusion too? Even if it is the origin scene of that world, how can you be sure that it is not a more real illusion? Perhaps only when all the origin symbols fade away, can we see a truly real world..."
To be honest, what he said seemed to make sense, but after careful consideration, I found that I didn't understand it at all. Out of respect for a scholar with noble wisdom, I thought it would be a more normal social etiquette to pretend to be enlightened and look at him with a little admiration. I tried this against my conscience, and the smile and frequent nodding of old Carlson proved that it worked well.
"So... what should I do now?" I looked to this wise old troll for inspiration with great anticipation.
"Well...actually I don't know either!" Very well, let me strangle this boastful old guy to death.
Seeing my unfriendly expression, Old Carlson quickly added, "But, perhaps there is one thing I should remind you of. Your companions have run into the fortress again."
The image suspended in the air immediately changed from hundreds of small grids to four large grids, showing four dim flames floating on the road of the gravel fortress. Floating above each flame was the name of one of my friends - this should be the first time I saw the independent existence of a soul with my naked eyes.
"Can you send me to them naturally?" I asked.
"Of course..." Carlson agreed readily, then hesitated for a moment and said, "...But the bad thing is, they seem to want to fight Black Jazz again. If you want to go with them, I can hardly guarantee that I can save you in time before you die. I don't want to watch a friend die after just knowing him for less than ten minutes."
"How do you know what they're going to do?"
"In this fortress, I can intercept anyone's conversation, including the dead - it's not a very complex skill."
"Doesn't it mean that there is no chance that we can defeat Blackadder?" The old troll's pessimistic tone made me feel uneasy.
"Probably... no..." The old troll frowned and thought for a moment, then shook his head hesitantly.
"Really?" I put my face under his nose and stared at him with my eyes wide open. "It doesn't look like it."
The old troll was a little flustered by my stare, and hurriedly took two steps back, explaining: "Nothing is so absolute. According to statistics from previous battles, generally speaking, the average minimum level to defeat Black Knight is 53, and the highest level among the five of you is just 53. Assuming that the time you fight and the remaining vitality of the woman are the basic coordinates, and then substitute your level and combat power evaluation values... refer to the probability of special damage effects and the probability of attack errors... and the 572 variables I know that may affect the outcome of your battle... after a simple random variable distribution model calculation... and then use an inverse probability deduction method..."
As the old troll muttered to himself, all kinds of strange digital symbols quickly changed on the scroll in the air. After a series of extremely complex changes, it was finally simplified into a simple pattern composed of three strokes: two straight lines intersecting vertically, and a curved line separating the two straight lines from a distance.
"This is the final result," Carlson said to me, pointing to the picture. "According to your usual fighting style, when this curve intersects this horizontal line, you will have a chance to defeat Blackadder."
"Then when will they intersect?" From a distance, the closest distance between the curve and the horizontal line was more than one person's height, which made me feel cold in my heart.
"The most ideal state is... they can get infinitely close but never intersect." Carlson said happily, "This is really a philosophical revelation, telling us that even though we will never succeed, we should never give up hope..."
I sat down on the ground dejectedly, my heart full of reluctance and doubt. I didn't want to quietly retreat here and become a deserter, leaving my companions who were full of determination and hope to face the inevitable defeat; more importantly, I couldn't help but have some doubts about everything I saw in the magic scroll. If I didn't watch her die completely with my own eyes beside Black Knight, I would always feel uneasy... After all, this was a matter of life and death for the entire world, and I didn't dare to give up my mission easily.
However, if I had to run and throw away my life knowing that I had no chance, I would never do it. I am willing to fight for a one in ten thousand chance, but I will not die out of despair.
In this contradictory hesitation, I suddenly remembered what Carlson had just said. This casual sentence was like a beam of fire that illuminated my thoughts and made me find a little hope from despair.
"Wait..." I suddenly said, "...you just said 'according to our usual way of fighting', which means, do you know some other ways of fighting?"
The smile on Carlson's face faded away in an instant. He looked bitter and annoyed, and opened his mouth wide. He was silent for a long time before he said, "Damn it, did I really say that?"
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