Volume 10 Bugs Chapter 64: My regrets and your wishes
The clue Mr. Edgwell gave me was correct, and the fragments of the scattered notebook really fell into the hands of these curious and reckless little guys. In fact, countless previous experiences have taught us that all the clues recorded in my magic notebook, no matter how absurd and unbelievable they seem, will eventually be proved to be correct by subsequent facts. I am not worried about this.
Thanks to my experience as a city gate guard, I know the location of every child in Campnavia very well, which makes it very convenient for me to complete my task. I am very optimistic that this job will not take me too much time.
I swear I will never believe in such stupid feelings again!
…
At the corner of East Avenue, I first found the Wright brothers. They were a pair of dwarf teenagers, the elder brother was named Wilbur and the younger brother was named Orwell. You know, they were very typical dwarfs. Although they were just two children, the enthusiasm and delusion for mechanical inventions in their blood could not be curbed. They claimed that they wanted to invent a fuel-driven machine that would allow ordinary people to fly into the sky without the help of magic. They called this great invention that only existed in their imagination an "airplane", and recently, their research work had just made a very significant breakthrough - after several months of unremitting efforts, they finally completed the first physical model of the airplane.
This is a dynamic three-dimensional simulation model of the uncertainty structure mechanics of plant fiber texture - well, to put it in a more popular way, it is an origami toy. It is difficult for me to describe its specific shape to you: its structure is very simple, with a vertical ridge in the middle and two huge wings on both sides. When you talk about wings, you may first think of birds, but I have to say that this thing is not similar to birds at all. If I must make an analogy, I think it is more like a butterfly, because its wings are so disproportionately large that they occupy more than 90% of the entire toy - oh, the model.
I asked them if they had taken some of the pages of the notebook from Mr. Edgwell's house, and the two children immediately confessed. They said that they wanted more paper to try to make different structural models, so they ran to Mr. Edgwell's house and took out a lot of paper. I tried to get them to give me the notebooks, but they didn't want to. They said that the paper material of these notebooks was very special, and they wanted to use the models made of this paper to conduct experiments on the stability of high-altitude gliding. In other words, they planned to throw them into the sea from the top of Oak Leaf Peak next to the Holy Shield Bay to see if they could float across the ocean along the warm and humid air currents formed by the subtropical high pressure to the legendary beautiful and mysterious Eastern continent.
If these two naughty kids with lofty ideals really did that, then no matter whether these paper airplanes made from precious alchemy notes could fly across the ocean, there is no doubt that it would be the last time I saw them.
I tried to persuade them to give up this grand plan, which made them both unhappy. My younger brother Orwell was a little impatient with my pestering, and raised his head and said to me: "If you really want these papers, then make a bet with us. If you can build a model of an aircraft that flies farther than our aircraft, we will give you the papers you want."
I had no choice but to accept the bet. My brother Wilbur handed me a piece of paper and showed me how to fold a paper airplane. Seeing Wilbur's chubby little hands dancing lightly on the paper, folding and folding as if dancing, he quickly turned the white paper in his hand into a beautiful paper airplane. I felt that my hands were clumsier than ever before. I guess these two cunning little bastards must have cast a spell or curse on my paper. These light and thin pieces of paper are harder to deal with than Blackadder's hammer: I folded it from this side, and it would definitely bounce back from the other side in a blink of an eye; it was clearly a straight fold line, but when I folded it over, I found that the deviation was as wide as two fingers of my thumb - and it was my thumb. When I finally folded the white paper into a pair of wings, I felt that my fingers were about to be tied into a bow. Even so, my work is still larger on the left and smaller on the right, heavier in the front and lighter in the back, crooked at the top and slanted at the bottom, completely different from the neat and beautiful origami toy in the hands of the dwarf boy.
Standing on the street, Wilbur held the paper airplane in his hand and pushed it forward gently, and it floated forward. Its flying posture in the air seemed like a spirit with life, holding the breeze at the corner of the street, floating lightly and steadily with the wind, straight through the wide street square, and slowly landing on the grass on the other side of the road.
Now I really have some doubts: the invention of these two little guys may really have a chance to succeed. The way the paper airplane flutters in the wind clearly contains some simple and mysterious truth. One day, if we can really solve this mystery, the sky may open its arms to ordinary people like me who don't know magic.
After all, it was not the time for me to express my feelings. Facing the provocative gazes of the two dwarf boys, I gently weighed the origami in my hand, took a step forward, and threw it forward with my right hand. When my paper airplane flew out of my hand, I only heard a gust of wind passing by my ears. Immediately, I stood up straight, tiptoed, and looked into the distance, wanting to see where my origami toy flew to...
...There is no trace in the air, the plane has already flown over...
Phew, I must have used too much force - I thought - that child could send this small paper airplane so far with just a light throw, I threw it so hard, it must have flown to the woods outside the city wall by now, right? When I thought about how I took the playful bet between two children so seriously, I felt a little funny. Why bother? This would hurt the children's enthusiasm...
"Sir, you lost." Just as I was thinking about it, little Orwell suddenly clapped his hands and shouted happily, while pointing forward. Looking forward along his finger, I vaguely saw a white thing lying on its buttocks about three steps away from my feet. It looked quite familiar, vaguely... as if... seemed... as if... it looked like the paper airplane I had just folded...
A gust of wind blew a fallen leaf past my legs, and for a moment, I felt the atmosphere was a little bleak.
Well... you know, I always think that for those children who have ideals and are used to exploring, we should not hit them too harshly and hurt their young hearts. Sometimes we should indulge them appropriately and satisfy their young self-esteem, so as to help them grow better. So I... threw the paper airplane a little lighter - well, that's it, I threw it a little lighter... Hey, what's that expression on your face? What did I say wrong? Do you think there's a flaw? Don't pout! I'm talking about you! Come on if you can! See if you can make these two children... that... so happy like me!
However, it only takes one time to protect the children's self-esteem and keep their young hearts from being hurt. Next time, I will not show them mercy.
According to some profound aerodynamic principles that you all obviously don't understand, I adjusted the proportions of the wing to the fuselage and also reduced the angle of the wing so that it could...
"Sir, you lose..." Huh? How come it's flying closer than before?
Oh, I see. When I designed this aircraft model, I didn't take into account the turbulence caused by the crosswind. If I add a fixed tail to this aircraft like this...
"Sir, you lose..." You must be kidding! It seems to be getting closer and closer! !
I understand. It must be the small disturbances propagating in the fast flow that cause the increase in entropy and affect the stability of flight. As long as I do this, this, that, that, that...
"Sir, you lose..." Are you kidding me! My paper airplane can't even fly two steps away! !
Well, well, if this still doesn't work, then it must be caused by the imbalance between the lift of the high aspect ratio straight wing and the drag caused by the trailing vortex. I just need this, this, that, and that...
"Sir, you lose..." Oh my god! This time I didn't fly as far as before!
Or maybe it's because...
"Sir, you lose..."
Could it be that...
"Sir, you lose..."
Could it be...
"Sir, you lose..."
"You lost... You lost... You lost..."
Well, I admit that I know nothing about origami, a difficult science. After more than twenty attempts, the paper airplane I folded flew closer and closer, and finally, when I let go, it fell headfirst onto the back of my foot!
I began to seriously consider giving up this mission...
"Sir, do you want to try again?" In front of me, little Wilbur looked at me with a smile on his face, holding a dazzling white paper in his hand.
Where the hell did these two little bastards get so much white paper? !
Honestly, the series of tragic defeats has made me feel sick to my stomach whenever I see a blank sheet of paper. I think if this continues, I will definitely kill these two innocent little bastards with my own hands.
I angrily snatched the paper from little Wilbur, clenched it into a big ball, roared and threw it far away with all my strength, wanting to vent the anger accumulated in my chest in this way. The ball of paper flew across the sky like a meteor, drawing a sharp curve in the air, reaching far away, and flew away without a trace.
Then……
"Swish..." A dazzling white light immediately rose from the ground and surrounded me in the center. At the same time, a roar symbolizing the completion of the mission floated in my ears. When the light dissipated, I saw the Wright brothers looking up at me with admiration in their eyes:
"Sir, your plane flies so far..."
In Wilbur's hands, he was carefully holding the big paper ball that I had just thrown out. His little hands were rubbing the paper ball back and forth as if he had found a treasure:
"…your airplane model has given us a lot of clues. We will definitely refer to your design and invent an airplane that can fly higher and farther. When the invention is successful, we will definitely invite you to be our first passenger…"
While the long-winded little fellow was still talking to me with admiration about the inspiration that the crumpled big ball of paper had brought them, I had already fled with the alchemy notes I won from them. At this moment, a firm idea firmly occupied my mind, as indestructible as a rock. I firmly believed that even if the Supreme God Darmos came in front of me personally, it would not be possible for me to waver in my thoughts.
The thought that kept churning through my mind at this moment was: No matter what these two little fools invent in the future, don't even think about letting me get close to them!
Absolutely no way!!!
…
If you think that the hardships brought by this mission have ended, then I can only say that you really underestimate the enthusiasm of these children to play. In fact, this may be the easiest one to complete in this series of tasks.
An orc kid taught me to fold two pieces of paper into a square - he called this folded little thing a "square treasure", and then we each took one and repeatedly slammed it on the ground, until we knocked over the other's "square treasure" left on the ground to win. Just like the requirements of the dwarf brothers, I had to beat him to get the notes from him. I really want to tell you how difficult it is, but unfortunately, my clumsy language can't describe the difficulty of this project at all. I feel that this is a high-intensity sports project that combines a series of complex disciplines such as elasticity, plasticity, blasting, etc., and luck. The most terrible thing is that after my personal experience, I feel that luck accounts for the majority. I can't remember how many times I lost to the grinning green doll in this process. In the end, I won him by accident. When I stretched out my trembling arm to take the notes from him, my entire right arm and shoulder were swollen because of excessive force. A sore, swollen and stinging feeling radiated outward from the joints between my bones, making me worry that I might accidentally rupture a blood vessel.
A Minotaur boy asked me to play a game of rolling a hoop with him. Oh, I guess you would say, "How difficult is that?" I believe you would not think so if you could see the hoop we rolled with your own eyes. Strictly speaking, I don't even think that what we rolled can be called an "iron hoop" - it is clearly a super-giant discus: the thinnest part of it is as thick as your palm, and I swear that the largest carriage wheel you have ever seen in your life is three circles smaller than it. This thing is almost a solid piece of cast iron. Just because there is a round hole in the middle that is about the size of a cat's tail, this silly Minotaur boy determined that it is an "iron hoop". Do you know how difficult it is to keep this dangerous piece of iron upright with just the strength of two hands? It is simply a supernatural phenomenon that violates the law of gravity, not to mention making it roll.
Did I tell you that this minotaur boy who had just entered puberty was half a head taller than me, and conservatively estimated that his shoulders were twice as broad as mine?
Believe me, if you have a child, I advise you not to let him play with a minotaur child of the same age, because doing so is actually not much different from letting him face a hungry ogre alone. Many things that are just toys to a minotaur doll are absolutely weapons for your child.
Do you think the minotaur child is the most difficult to deal with? No, compared to the elf girl who pulled me to hop, he is definitely a kind and harmless creature. I don't know who invented this hopscotch game. If I find him, I will make him regret his invention for the rest of his life. I really don't want to tell you how light and graceful this elf girl was when she hopped, and I don't want to tell you how ugly I looked when I jumped around like a bear with a broken leg. You just need to know that it took me almost half my life to finish this long string of hopscotches. When I left, I had almost forgotten how to walk upright.
There are many more games like this, please forgive me for not wanting to describe this painful experience in detail. I can't imagine where these young children get such vigorous energy to play these games all day long that are enough to make a strong adult like me tired to death.
What was most incredible to me was that when I was struggling to win two notes from them with a gloomy face, they seemed very happy. I didn't know where their happiness came from, from those simple toys? Or from the competition between me and them? Were they excited because they defeated me, an adult, in their own field? But why did they still have so much fun after being defeated by me in the end?
Winning or losing, honor, stakes, value... it seems that none of these things will affect the happiness these children finally get. Their happiness does not come from the appearance of external objects or the difference when they come into contact with others, but from their hearts, from that simple and clean world. When I was struggling with them for my own purpose, they were just looking for the joy in their hearts from the bottom of their hearts. Yes, after defeating them one by one and winning the notebook fragments in their hands, I was getting closer and closer to the goal of completing the task. I should have been excited and happy about this, right?
But I can't be happy.
I don't understand their happiness. I have never felt anything like this in my life. There are countless goals floating in front of my eyes. They are recorded in my magic notebook. The meaning of my life is to complete them one by one. When they are completed, I will get rewards, I will increase my strength, I will become a better person than before, and I will feel happy because of this. This kind of happiness has a clear purpose, a clear source, and a high price.
Compared with my happiness, these children's happiness is so cheap, yet so precious!
The mission is still going on. I still have to play these boring games with these whimsical children endlessly. This makes me feel tortured, but I don't want to complain. I believe that the omnipotent God arranged such a mission here, perhaps with some great wisdom. He may want to use this method to remind people of something, to make people remember something and feel something. It should be something that people once had but kept losing, something that belongs to children, and also something from the past of adults who are no longer children. Where did these things go? Were they discarded by people? Or were they quietly moldy in a corner deep in the soul?
No matter where they went, this may be an opportunity to find them again, to bring them back to mind and savor them again. It seems to remind those who once lost them, telling them: You once had some of the most precious things in the world, and these things should not be thrown away.
Unfortunately, I don’t have such a past, I don’t have a similar childhood, I am just an intruder who suddenly appeared in this world, and there are some things I have never owned.
Therefore, I cannot feel, cannot recall, cannot appreciate, and cannot be moved.
I don’t know whether other people besides me, my friends who are involved in the space industry, can experience this kind of pure happiness. I sincerely hope that they can, and I wish them all the best for it.
This is me, a native without a past. The deepest regret hidden in my heart is also the best wish for my friends.
