Chapter 275: Time Off |
The misunderstanding was quickly resolved. Igor and his group didn’t mean any harm. Nonetheless, Ashe had administered some sedatives to the Substitute, conducting experiments while listening to their explanations.
“Seven Days of Knowing One’s Destiny?”
The Butler Youth nodded: “You might not have this custom in the Blood Moon Kingdom, where a baby, seven days after birth, is allowed to pick their favorite item from a collection. This chosen item is called ‘Life Choice.’ It signifies that the child’s destiny will follow this selection.”
“So, based on the different Life Choices picked, one could predict the future direction of the baby’s life?” Ashe commented, “That sounds superstitious, not at all like something a Sorcerer would do…”
“It’s indeed just a beautiful blessing bestowed upon children hundreds of years ago. Over time, it has continued as a custom, not as a Procedure or Ritual Track,” Annan explained. “After all, with the existence of the Ranking List, parents hope their children make it onto the list, eager for their talents to be revealed early.”
“But—”
“While it’s not a Procedure or Ritual Track, it doesn’t mean the custom lacks significance,” Annan continued. “The future of society is a vast chaotic system. Compared to ‘certain’ miracles, the ‘uncertain’ meanings can have a deeper impact. According to years of research by the Dolan Family, intangible factors like ‘wishes,’ ‘meanings,’ and ‘acknowledgment’ play significant roles during the Weaving Festival.”
“These wishes, which can’t take immediate effect, are heard by the Gospel. Life isn’t comprised of miracles every second, but every second is meaningful.”
“Plus,” Annan shrugged, “if everyone else has a Life Choice, why shouldn’t you?”
Ashe understood, but was still puzzled: “But isn’t this custom meant for infants just seven days old? You can count Lise out, but do I really look that young?”
“We have indeed just been born for seven days,” the Necromancer said, examining a Silver scalpel. “Or rather, we’ve just arrived in this world seven days ago.”
“Is that even possible?”
Ashe was stunned. They had changed the Map, and even the age cooldown was refreshed?
“The Gospel has existed for over a thousand years, perhaps even longer,” Annan explained. “In the time scale of the Gospel, whether you’re 25 years and seven days old or just 1 year and 7 days old doesn’t make much of a difference.”
“Right,” Igor added. “And there are people in the world who are 25 years old but mentally just like newborns. The Gospel certainly won’t discriminate against you, Ashe.”
Ashe punched the already dizzy Substitute, glanced at the various torture instruments on the table, and asked, “So after we choose, is there a chance we might make it onto today’s first future Ranking?”
“How could that be possible.” Annan shook his head. “No one can know what the first Ranking List will be in advance, not even me. I have to use the first List to guess the subsequent ones. Holding the ‘Seven Days of Knowing One’s Destiny’ is just a gamble, who knows, maybe it will coincide perfectly with the desires of the Gospel?”
“It sounds like we’re matchmaking with the Gospel…” Ashe picked up a transparent glass needle. “But why are there so many… um, torture instruments?”
“As a Firm, isn’t it normal to have so many instruments?” Annan shrugged. “If you don’t want to pick an instrument, then don’t. Just choose something you like. Besides, don’t be too utilitarian; after all, no one knows what the first Ranking List will be. Only by choosing something you truly like will your voice be loud enough for the Gospel to hear.”
“Also, when you choose your Life Choice item, it’s best to imbue the item with some good wishes. Normally, this step is done by parents, like ‘this child chose a dagger that will never be discovered after killing someone’—it’s a further reinforcement of a wish and a very meaningful step.”
“Moreover, according to intelligence collected by the Dolan Family, some rewards during the Weaving Festival are custom-tailored based on your Life Choice. If you make a wish for your Life Choice, it might just influence the Ranking List’s rewards for you.”
Ashe suddenly realized an issue: “Wait, why did you make me choose from handcuffs, spiked clubs, and love potions earlier?”
“Because we thought they’d suit you well,” the three said in unison.
“Isn’t that a personal attack?” Ashe turned to the Necromancer. “At least you, Harvey, have the sense not to mess around with them…”
Then he saw Harvey holding a whip.
“Harvey, I didn’t expect you to be interested in that—”
“How could I? Whips are useful for living people, and I’m not interested in the living. I just think a whip suits you because—”
“Stop, I’m not interested in your stereotyped impressions of me.” Ashe looked at the workers: “So what Life Choice did you guys make?”
Lise held up a small mirror: “The Little Magic Mirror that always reflects the most beautiful state of its holder!”
“Really!?” Ashe took it playfully and looked at it: “Nope, I still look the same, just a regular mirror.”
Igor commented, “Just a guess, but maybe it’s not the mirror that’s ordinary, but you?”
“Stupid dad, give it back to me!” Lise was very angry, kicking Ashe’s knee and snatching the mirror back while Ashe was bent over.
“I chose this,” Igor said, shaking a pen in his hand. “A pen that grips the reader’s attention no matter what it writes.”
“Eh?” Ashe blinked.
“Why do you look so surprised?”
“I thought you’d want a pen that ‘makes whatever you write come true’ or ‘makes whatever you write believable’…”
Igor wagged his finger: “For someone like me, a social engineering Scholar, it’s not about distorting reality or gaining others’ trust, but about attention—once I can capture your attention, I can control your Destiny.”
Ashe looked at Harvey, the Necromancer, who pulled out a box similar to a sewing kit with needles and thread—Heaven knows why the Gospel Kingdom would have such a thing. Given the Gospel’s productivity, shouldn’t ordinary people here be wearing a new set of clothes every day, with no need to wash or mend them?
“I chose—”
“Stop, I didn’t ask you,” Ashe said with his arms crossed, indicating his refusal. “I don’t want to hear about the special uses of sewing needles.”
“It’s not a sewing needle—”
“Then I want to hear it even less.”
Annan and Banjeet, without a doubt, didn’t need to choose; they had made their choices at birth.
Ashe glanced over the items on the table and shook his head.
“Can I choose something else?”
“What else?”
Ashe went back to his bedroom and then came out wearing a Dark Red Trench Coat and a mask: “I don’t like anything on the table; I want to choose these two as my Life Choices.”
He pointed at the Dark Red Trench Coat: “This is a coat that can ward off all harm…”
Annan reminded him, “Don’t be so utilitarian. Do you think this is a game? Would your parents wish for something like this?”
Ashe recalled his parents’ way of thinking and said earnestly, “This is a terrifying trench coat that will make everyone afraid to bully me.”
Annan was about to say something else but was patted on the shoulder by Igor.
The Con Artist pointed at himself, Harvey, and Ashe, and Annan immediately understood his point—right, they were all orphans from the Blood Moon Kingdom; how would they know what parental love is?
When you want to blame others, think about how they might not have parents.
With this thought, Annan’s gaze towards Ashe was filled with tolerance.
Ashe pointed at the mask and said, “This is a… um… mask that will make everyone like me?”
“The function doesn’t quite match, does it?” Harvey commented. “Although you do look better with your face covered, the mask has nothing to do with charm.”
Harvey’s words often left Ashe puzzled, such as this phrase “you look better with your face covered.” If Igor, Lise, or even Annan had said it, it would definitely be a personal attack, but coming from Harvey, Ashe couldn’t quite tell if it was meant as a compliment or an insult.
But he did have a point, and after thinking it over, Ashe said, “Then this is a mask that will give me an air of mystery.”
“Why does dad get to have two Life Choices!?” Lise protested. “I want two as well!”
“But if you choose two, the power of the wish might be diluted,” Annan said. “And the Gospel might pick and choose, only rewarding one true Life Choice.”
Lise thought about it: “Then never mind, I still want the Magic Mirror.”
“We’ve all made our choices, so when is the first Ranking List coming out?” Ashe asked. “It’s almost breakfast time. Could the Gospel be on leave?”
“No,” Annan shrugged, “but it won’t be on time either. If it were truly punctual, the first future Ranking should have been released at midnight last night.”
“Then why—”
“Because today isn’t over yet.”
Butler Youth Banjeet raised his hand, signaling everyone to look at him: “How should I put this… If the Weaving Festival were a job, then the Gospel would be the creator who submits their work at the very last second.”
“These are all our guesses,” Annan added. “When it comes to Weaving the Future, the closer we get to the future, the more precise the weaving becomes. Therefore, although the Weaving Festival announces the first Ranking List on the 10th, a list woven at 00:00:00 is inevitably less accurate than one woven at 23:59:59.”
“In the history of the Weaving Festival, the vast majority of Ranking Lists are published at the very last second of the day. Only 25% are released right at midnight, and another 10% are released at random times during the day, without any discernible pattern.”
“That’s why I didn’t keep you all up until midnight last night, because for the past several editions of the Weaving Festival, the first Ranking List has always been released at the last second,” Annan flicked his earring. “But tonight, you all have to wait until midnight to see the first future Ranking before you can go back to your rooms.”
Ashe asked, “Can’t we just look at it tomorrow morning? Do we have to chase the update?”
“No,” Annan shook his head. “Although it’s unlikely, if you’re either very lucky or very unlucky… something might happen. However, the likelihood of something happening with the first Ranking List is slim; our concern is more about the second Ranking List in ten days.”
Waiting until midnight…
Ashe’s scheduled time to start Exploring the Virtual Realm with his team was at 11 PM, so asking for a leave at midnight seemed a waste, but he couldn’t just skip it either.
After finishing breakfast, Ashe hurried back to his bedroom, summoned the Gospel, opened the game page, and checked if there was any way to delay the team assembly time.
“Exploration in Virtual Realm” – “Team Composition,” Ashe carefully reviewed and discovered a detail—every time he selected “Start Action,” secondary options like “Depart Immediately” and “Discuss Further” would pop up.
Previously, Ashe thought “Discuss Further” meant cancel, but this time, clicking it brought up “Adjust Action Time” and “Change Team Composition.”
Choosing “Adjust Action Time,” Ashe found he could shift the action time from 11 PM to 12:30 AM, but this required the agreement of the Operators.
“Observer proposal: Postpone tonight’s Exploration in Virtual Realm by 90 minutes.”
Meanwhile, Lise also returned to her room, speaking to the newly acquired Little Magic Mirror, “Calling Observer! Calling Observer! Can we delay tonight’s exploration by an hour? Please convey this to the Swordswoman.”
“No, wait!” Lise shook her head, switching to negotiating with Deya: “Can we delay it by 90 minutes? Tonight, we need to watch the Gospel Ranking List, which might take a good fifteen minutes.”
After a brief silence, both Ashe and Deya received the answers they were hoping for—
“Swordswoman agrees, Witch agrees.”
“Since you beg so humbly, I will mercifully approve.”
In another Kingdom, Sonya, who had just gotten up and was doing her skincare routine, looked at the letter on her desk with a subtle expression.
“Dear Swordswoman,”
“The great Observer has kept his promise. Tomorrow you will have a full day of Entertainment and Rest with no Training.”
“But in return, your training tonight will be extended by 90 minutes, and the time for your Exploration in Virtual Realm will also be delayed by 90 minutes.”
“…I usually only train for two hours anyway…”
The president of the Stretching Claws Club really wanted to be happy, but her intelligence wouldn’t allow it: “What is this? Comp time? How is this any different from not having a day off at all!”
