Chapter 276: Anonymous |
At 11:46 PM on May 11th, time was running out for the Gospel to finish its homework.
All members of the Funeral Firm gathered in the living room, quietly waiting for the Gospel to turn in its first set of answers.
“Dad, what is that outside?”
Ashe squinted his eyes towards the giant Holographic Screen erected in the city center. Mysteriously, as he focused, his vision suddenly sharpened, allowing him to clearly see the screen even from several kilometers away.
“That’s the city announcement Holographic Screen.”
Annan nestled in a red leather armchair, dressed in pink and purple pajamas and wearing a sleep cap, slowly sipping hot chocolate milk like a kitten. “It’s been enhanced with the ‘Focus’ Miracle so that no matter the distance, as long as you look at it, you can clearly see its contents. It’s only used for major holidays.”
“Given that it’s the Weaving Festival, which only happens every Fifty Years, there’s no doubt it’s a major holiday.”
The impeccably dressed Butler, Banjeet, commented, “This is actually a remnant of an older era. Fifty years ago, not everyone could afford their own Gospel, and there were even ‘Shared Gospels’ and ‘Gospel Kiosks’… That’s why these city-wide Holographic Screens came into existence, and over decades, they became a tradition. But in reality, given the current proliferation of Gospel devices, there’s no longer any need for these city screens.”
“I quite like these outdated and redundant things; they’re filled with historical sediment,” said Igor, sitting by the dining table, swirling the ice in his glass. “The most endearing and meaningful aspect of history is precisely that it is outdated and redundant.”
Ashe moved to another red leather armchair. Lise also wanted to sit, but couldn’t squeeze past him, so she reluctantly settled beside the dining table instead.
Ashe looked around and asked, “Why are both of you dressed in formal wear?”
Ashe, Lise, and Annan were all in pajamas, while Banjeet was dressed in his butler’s uniform. In fact, Ashe and the others had never seen Banjeet without his butler’s uniform. However, Harvey and Igor were fully dressed, even wearing their boots— noteworthy since they had been wearing slippers the previous days, and Igor had even stopped wearing slippers after noticing the floors were clean.
“The Revelation spirit issued a warning to me,” Igor said. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Same here,” Harvey added. “When I was lost in a haze from smoking at noon, losing track of time, I saw Sanjiel, Linda, Ackley, and Sushibe urging me to run away…”
“Question!” Ashe raised his hand. “Are you having a split personality?”
“No, those were my dear friends and brothers—”
“Got it, they’re dead.” Ashe said. “So, does that mean something might happen tonight? Should we—”
“Don’t rush,” Annan was the calmest. “This phenomenon is also recorded by the Dolan Family. Every time the Weaving Festival Ranking List is released, both the Prophecy Faction and the Destiny Faction are affected, and the answers they get are either very good or very bad. Today, I made three prophecies; two celebrated good fortunes coming my way, and one warned me to leave immediately or disaster would strike.”
Given that the locals said so, Ashe naturally believed it. However, Harvey and Igor showed no intention of changing their clothes—perhaps out of laziness, or maybe they trusted their own judgment more.
Suddenly, Ashe summoned his Gospel and asked, “Speaking of which, does checking the future Ranking still cost Points?”
“During these 100 days, no, it doesn’t,” Annan replied. “After the Weaving Festival, if you want to check past future Rankings, you will need to use Points. When the first Ranking List is woven, our Gospels will display a bookmark, reminding you to observe who will be the prominent figures over the next fifty years.”
“Speaking of which, is there a way to appear on the Ranking anonymously?”
Ashe suddenly recalled a classic scenario from online gaming novels: “If we appear on the Ranking, it will attract attention. Wouldn’t it work to be anonymous?”
“Sorry, that’s not possible,” Banjeet shook his head. “Although we still don’t know why the Omniscient Weaver holds the Weaving Festival—perhaps to control the future, perhaps to inspire the people—whatever the reason, the Weaving Festival is definitely not meant to serve the Echoers.”
“Echoers would certainly prefer to be anonymous on the Ranking List, but Echoers are just tools for display at the Weaving Festival. The Gospel would never consider the wishes of Echoers.”
“However,” Annan suddenly said, “there is indeed a Ranking where anonymity is possible.”
Banjeet was briefly startled, then realized what she was talking about: “That’s an exception among exceptions, meaningless…”
Igor, keenly sensing a secret, asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Among the thousands of Gospel Ranking Lists, there’s only one where everyone is listed anonymously,” Annan explained. “But being on that list isn’t a good thing; there aren’t even any Points rewards.”
“Is it the criminals’ list?” Ashe inquired.
“The Slaughter Ranking is one of the few Ranking Lists that criminals can enter. It’s highly competitive, and the rewards are richer than ordinary lists, but the cost is that it’s easier to get caught by the Red Caps,” Annan shook his head. “But I’m talking about the ‘Unrelated Ranking,’ which offers only losses, with no rewards at all.”
“Unrelated…” Lise murmured, sounding sympathetic.
Banjeet added, “The ‘Unrelated Ranking’ is the strangest of all the Gospel’s lists. There’s only one criterion to be on it: being unrelated.”
“People who are forgotten by society, people who are needed by no one, people who are cared about by no one, and even those who don’t care about themselves, end up on this list. Moreover, the information about those who are listed is not known to others, only the listed individuals themselves know.”
“Typically, those who are listed are minors under 17 years old, with no adults included.”
“Why is that?” Igor asked. “Because they become needed by someone once they are adults?”
“Because they don’t live to become adults.”
The living room fell into a brief silence before Harvey exhaled a ring of smoke. “Why? What happened to them?”
“No one knows,” Banjeet replied. “All we can see from the Ranking List is that names on the Unrelated Ranking suddenly disappear one day.”
Ashe suggested, “Maybe they became needed by someone—”
“Even though the Gospel obscures their specific information, it doesn’t stop us from finding out why Unrelated individuals are removed from the list,” Annan said. “Only a very few are removed because they ‘no longer meet the listing criteria.’ Most are removed because they ‘are no longer in the Kingdom of the Gospel.’”
No longer in the Kingdom of the Gospel—where did they go?
Certainly, they couldn’t have left the Kingdom of the Gospel on their own—Ashe and others who have experienced leaving the country understand how perilous it is to shuttle between two kingdoms.
Leaving one’s native land to start anew in a completely different society and culture is akin to transmigration, not to mention that many kingdoms obliterate outsiders to prevent invasions, as is the case during the Blood Moon and also in the Gospel.
Thus, the most likely reason for Unrelated individuals being removed from the list is that the Gospel has deemed them societal waste and granted them a Life Restart package.
“Perhaps the Omniscient Weaver has taken all the Unrelated to heaven to enjoy blessings,” Annan said calmly.
“Or maybe they’ve fallen into hell,” Igor added coldly. “It’s cruel. What kind of feelings must brew inside the tender hearts of the Unrelated when they hear the Gospel proclaiming them as the most unloved children in the world?”
“I thought you, Mr. Bukin, were a proponent of social Darwinism,” Annan said, somewhat surprised. “Supporting the natural elimination of those who cannot survive.”
“I do support the natural elimination of the weak, but I don’t support a god sitting high above passing judgment on the weak,” Igor stated. “Even if what lies ahead is hell, one should walk there on their own, not be thrown down by a god.”
Annan remarked, “But don’t you think the Unrelated might lack the courage to end their own lives? If they are listed, it means they have already taken 99 steps, and the Gospel merely pushes them to take the last one.”
“Indeed,” Ashe agreed. “Given the criteria for being listed as Unrelated, they probably don’t want to live anymore. It’s like they’re writing a horribly disorganized essay, and the Gospel is just putting a poor ending to it, which might actually be a relief for them.”
“However, the fact that they haven’t chosen to end their lives suggests that deep down, they still hope to write a beautiful chapter ahead. With such great power, the Gospel, acting as their editor, doesn’t need to rush them into finishing their story prematurely.”
“The power of a miracle isn’t meant to destroy the weak but to forge the strong,” Harvey added calmly. “Similarly, the Necromancy Faction isn’t about accumulating death but about elevating life.”
