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ã¢ããã¹ããã³ãã¬ã¹ããåœå±ã¯ã1 ã€ã®æ¿æš©ã1 ã€ã®æ³åŸæ©æ§ããã³å€å
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èŠæ§ã匷調ãããã¢ããã¹ã¯ãŸããæŠåšãäžæ¹ (ãã¬ã¹ããèªæ²»æ¿åº) ã«ã®ã¿æãããããšãæãã§ããã圌ã¯ãã¬ã¹ããæŠè£
å¢åã«åæŠãããã説åŸããã€ã¹ã©ãšã«äººããã³äžçã«ãå
¥æ€å°ã®å»æ¢ã«ã¯ãã€ã¹ã©ãšã« - ãã¬ã¹ããéã®æŽåãäžèŠã§ããããšã瀺ãããšã«æåããã | Abbas also wants weapons in only one set of hands â those of the Palestinian Authority. He successfully persuaded Palestinian militants to hold their fire and show Israelis and the world that dismantling settlements need not involve Israeli-Palestinian violence. | {
"source": "news_commentary",
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THE matron had given her leave to go out as soon as the women's tea was over and Maria looked forward to her evening out.
The kitchen was spick and span:
the cook said you could see yourself in the big copper boilers.
The fire was nice and bright and on one of the side-tables were four very big barmbracks.
These barmbracks seemed uncut;
but if you went closer you would see that they had been cut into long thick even slices and were ready to be handed round at tea.
Maria had cut them herself.
Maria was a very, very small person indeed but she had a very long nose and a very long chin.
She talked a little through her nose, always soothingly:
She was always sent for when the women quarrelled Over their tubs and always succeeded in making peace.
One day the matron had said to her:
"Maria, you are a veritable peace-maker!"
And the sub-matron and two of the Board ladies had heard the compliment.
And Ginger Mooney was always saying what she wouldn't do to the dummy who had charge of the irons if it wasn't for Maria.
Everyone was so fond of Maria.
The women would have their tea at six o'clock and she would be able to get away before seven.
From Ballsbridge to the Pillar, twenty minutes;
from the Pillar to Drumcondra, twenty minutes;
and twenty minutes to buy the things.
She would be there before eight.
She took out her purse with the silver clasps and read again the words A Present from Belfast.
She was very fond of that purse because Joe had brought it to her
five years before when he and Alphy had gone to Belfast on a Whit-Monday trip.
In the purse were two half-crowns and some coppers.
She would have five shillings clear after paying tram fare.
What a nice evening they would have, all the children singing!
Only she hoped that Joe wouldn't come in drunk.
He was so different when he took any drink.
Often he had wanted her to go and live with them;
-but she would have felt herself in the way (though Joe's wife was ever so nice with her) and she had become accustomed to the life of the laundry.
Joe was a good fellow.
She had nursed him and Alphy too;
and Joe used often say:
"Mamma is mamma but Maria is my proper mother."
After the break-up at home the boys had got her that position in the Dublin by Lamplight laundry, and she liked it.
She used to have such a bad opinion of Protestants but now she thought they were very nice people, a little quiet and serious, but still very nice people to live with.
Then she had her plants in the conservatory and she liked looking after them.
She had lovely ferns and wax-plants and, whenever anyone came to visit her, she always gave the visitor one or two slips from her conservatory.
There was one thing she didn't like and that was the tracts on the walks;
but the matron was such a nice person to deal with, so genteel.
When the cook told her everything was ready she went into the women's room and began to pull the big bell.
In a few minutes the women began to come in by twos and threes, wiping their steaming hands in their petticoats and pulling down the sleeves of their blouses over their red steaming arms.
They settled down before their huge mugs which the cook and the dummy filled up with hot tea, already mixed with milk and sugar in huge tin cans.
Maria superintended the distribution of the barmbrack and saw that every woman got her four slices.
There was a great deal of laughing and joking during the meal.
Lizzie Fleming said Maria was sure to get the ring and, though Fleming had said that for so many Hallow Eves, Maria had to laugh and say she didn't want any ring or man either;
and when she laughed her grey-green eyes sparkled with disappointed shyness and the tip of her nose nearly met the tip of her chin.
Then Ginger Mooney lifted her mug of tea and proposed Maria's health while all the other women clattered with their mugs on the table, and said she was sorry she hadn't a sup of porter to drink it in.
And Maria laughed again till the tip of her nose nearly met the tip of her chin and till her minute body nearly shook itself asunder because she knew that Mooney meant well though, of course, she had the notions of a common woman.
But wasn't Maria glad when the women had finished their tea and the cook and the dummy had begun to clear away the tea- things!
She went into her little bedroom and, remembering that the next morning was a mass morning, changed the hand of the alarm from seven to six.
Then she took off her working skirt and her house-boots and laid her best skirt out on the bed and her tiny dress-boots beside the foot of the bed.
She changed her blouse too and, as she stood before the mirror, she thought of how she used to dress for mass on Sunday morning when she was a young girl;
and she looked with quaint affection at the diminutive body which she had so often adorned,
In spite of its years she found it a nice tidy little body.
When she got outside the streets were shining with rain and she was glad of her old brown waterproof.
The tram was full and she had to sit on the little stool at the end of the car, facing all the people, with her toes barely touching the floor.
She arranged in her mind all she was going to do and thought how much better it was to be independent and to have your own money in your pocket.
She hoped they would have a nice evening.
She was sure they would but she could not help thinking what a pity it was Alphy and Joe were not speaking.
They were always falling out now but when they were boys together they used to be the best of friends:
but such was life.
She got out of her tram at the Pillar and ferreted her way quickly among the crowds.
She went into Downes's cake-shop but the shop was so full of people that it was a long time before she could get herself attended to.
She bought a dozen of mixed penny cakes, and at last came out of the shop laden with a big bag.
Then she thought what else would she buy:
she wanted to buy something really nice.
They would be sure to have plenty of apples and nuts.
It was hard to know what to buy and all she could think of was cake.
She decided to buy some plumcake but Downes's plumcake had not enough almond icing on top of it so she went over to a shop in Henry Street.
Here she was a long time in suiting herself and the stylish young lady behind the counter, who was evidently a little annoyed by her, asked her was it wedding-cake she wanted to buy.
That made Maria blush and smile at the young lady;
but the young lady took it all very seriously and finally cut a thick slice of plumcake, parcelled it up and said:
"Two-and-four, please."
She thought she would have to stand in the Drumcondra tram because none of the young men seemed to notice her but an elderly gentleman made room for her.
He was a stout gentleman and he wore a brown hard hat;
he had a square red face and a greyish moustache.
Maria thought he was a colonel-looking gentleman and she reflected how much more polite he was than the young men who simply stared straight before them.
The gentleman began to chat with her about Hallow Eve and the rainy weather.
He supposed the bag was full of good things for the little ones and said it was only right that the youngsters should enjoy themselves while they were young.
Maria agreed with him and favoured him with demure nods and hems.
He was very nice with her, and when she was getting out at the Canal Bridge she thanked him and bowed, and he bowed to her and raised his hat and smiled agreeably, and while she was going up along the terrace, bending her tiny head under the rain, she thought how easy it was to know a gentleman even when he has a drop taken.
Everybody said:
Joe was there, having come home from business, and all the children had their Sunday dresses on.
There were two big girls in from next door and games were going on.
Maria gave the bag of cakes to the eldest boy, Alphy, to divide and Mrs. Donnelly said it was too good of her to bring such a big bag of cakes and made all the children say:
"Thanks, Maria."
But Maria said she had brought something special for papa and mamma, something they would be sure to like, and she began to look for her plumcake.
She tried in Downes's bag and then in the pockets of her waterproof and then on the hallstand but nowhere could she find it.
Then she asked all the children had any of them eaten it
--by mistake, of course
--but the children all said no and looked as if they did not like to eat cakes if they were to be accused of stealing.
Everybody had a solution for the mystery and Mrs. Donnelly said it was plain that Maria had left it behind her in the tram.
Maria, remembering how confused the gentleman with the greyish moustache had made her, coloured with shame and vexation and disappointment.
At the thought of the failure of her little surprise and of the two and fourpence she had thrown away for nothing she nearly cried outright.
But Joe said it didn't matter and made her sit down by the fire.
He was very nice with her.
He told her all that went on in his office, repeating for her a smart answer which he had made to the manager.
Maria did not understand why Joe laughed so much over the answer he had made but she said that the manager must have been a very overbearing person to deal with.
Joe said he wasn't so bad when you knew how to take him, that he was a decent sort so long as you didn't rub him the wrong way.
Mrs. Donnelly played the piano for the children and they danced and sang.
Then the two next-door girls handed round the nuts.
Nobody could find the nutcrackers and Joe was nearly getting cross over it and asked how did they expect Maria to crack nuts without a nutcracker.
But Maria said she didn't like nuts and that they weren't to bother about her.
Then Joe asked would she take a bottle of stout and Mrs. Donnelly said there was port wine too in the house if she would prefer that.
Maria said she would rather they didn't ask her to take anything:
but Joe insisted.
So Maria let him have his way and they sat by the fire talking over old times and Maria thought she would put in a good word for Alphy.
But Joe cried that God might strike him stone dead if ever he spoke a word to his brother again and Maria said she was sorry she had mentioned the matter.
Mrs. Donnelly told her husband it was a great shame for him to speak that way of his own flesh and blood but Joe said that Alphy was no brother of his and there was nearly being a row on the head of it.
But Joe said he would not lose his temper on account of the night it was and asked his wife to open some more stout.
The two next-door girls had arranged some Hallow Eve games and soon everything was merry again.
Maria was delighted to see the children so merry and Joe and his wife in such good spirits.
The next-door girls put some saucers on the table and then led the children up to the table, blindfold.
One got the prayer-book and the other three got the water;
and when one of the next-door girls got the ring Mrs. Donnelly shook her finger at the blushing girl as much as to say:
They insisted then on blindfolding Maria and leading her up to the table to see what she would get;
and, while they were putting on the bandage, Maria laughed and laughed again till the tip of her nose nearly met the tip of her chin.
They led her up to the table amid laughing and joking and she put her hand out in the air as she was told to do.
She moved her hand about here and there in the air and descended on one of the saucers.
She felt a soft wet substance with her fingers and was surprised that nobody spoke or took off her bandage.
There was a pause for a few seconds;
and then a great deal of scuffling and whispering.
Somebody said something about the garden, and at last Mrs. Donnelly said something very cross to one of the next-door girls and told her to throw it out at once:
that was no play.
Maria understood that it was wrong that time and so she had to do it over again:
and this time she got the prayer-book.
After that Mrs. Donnelly played Miss McCloud's Reel for the children and Joe made Maria take a glass of wine.
Soon they were all quite merry again and Mrs. Donnelly said Maria would enter a convent before the year was out because she had got the prayer-book.
Maria had never seen Joe so nice to her as he was that night, so full of pleasant talk and reminiscences.
She said they were all very good to her.
At last the children grew tired and sleepy and Joe asked Maria would she not sing some little song before she went, one of the old songs.
Mrs. Donnelly said
and so Maria had to get up and stand beside the piano.
Mrs. Donnelly bade the children be quiet and listen to Maria's song.
Then she played the prelude
and said
She sang I Dreamt that I Dwelt, and when she came to the second verse she sang again:
I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls
With vassals and serfs at my side,
And of all who assembled within those walls
That I was the hope and the pride.
I had riches too great to count; could boast
Of a high ancestral name,
But I also dreamt, which pleased me most,
That you loved me still the same.
But no one tried to show her her mistake;
and when she had ended her song Joe was very much moved.
He said that there was no time like the long ago and no music for him like poor old Balfe, whatever other people might say;
and his eyes filled up so much with tears that he could not find what he was looking for and in the end he had to ask his wife to tell him where the corkscrew was. | {
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âI didnât agree with a couple of powerful people and when I voiced my objections all that did was earn their ire. They blinded me and then threw me in here.â
âWhat sort.... of objections did you have?â I ask, noticing that my voice trembled a bit as I spoke.
âWhatâs your name?â
âItâs Alicia.â
âI see. Alicia..... What a nice name. Iâm Will... Just Will,â he says, lightly ruffling my hair.
I wonder if he can tell what sort of face Iâm making right now; a very composed, serious expression.
âAlicia, you might not understand this yet, but just because we have always done something a certain way and itâs worked up until now, doesnât mean we should limit ourselves to only that method. Do you know what it means to reflect on the past?â
Even though I can tell heâs waiting for my response, the words seem to catch in my throat.
âTo reflect on the past doesnât mean to validate the good things that our ancestors did and just continue to use them. Rather than adopt ancient strategies that worked long ago, we should be learning from them, improving them. It means to develop and grow as a people and as a country after learning from the mistakes that have been made throughout history.â
Without realizing it, while listening to his explanation, tears had started to fall from my eyes.
Grandpa Will gently wipes them off my cheeks for me.
âYouâre a bright kid. In order to make wise choices, itâs indeed vital to gather knowledge on a wide variety of subjects, but never forget that knowledge without wisdom holds no meaning.â
âGrandpa Will, because of the palace..... Do you hate nobles now?â
âIâd be lying if I said that I didnât. Even now, I feel the vestiges of my old self calling to me in my dreams, tantalizing me with the colorful world from my memories. But the moment that Iâve finally grasped that world, the blackness rushes back in and Iâm once again left in total darkness. Those moments still torment me from time to time. But I donât regret it, and I can look past those feelings. I still donât think that what I did was wrong. And I believe that there will come a time when others will realize that as well. Thanks to that, Iâm able to continue living on with pride.â
Iâm starting to feel ashamed of myself. Because for the first time in my years of life, I finally understand how truly blessed I am.
My tears start falling faster. Iâm crying full force now, sobbing. I know itâs shameful to cry like this, but I canât seem to stop.
This man had his eyes ruined just because he angered someone with a similar noble status to mine, and in contrast Iâve just been living my life obliviously, and for what? Trying to become a villainess? After hearing his story, I canât help but feel small and ignorant. I have so many feelings swirling helplessly within me that I canât contain them and so the tears continue to fall.
Without saying anything, Grandpa Will just puts his arms around me, patting my back comfortingly. I swear, Iâll never forget this warmth that heâs showing me for the rest of my life.
I donât want to conceal my aspirations to become a villainess, so I tell him everything.
In the process, I also explain the reason that I came here today.....
Grandpa Will just listens quietly to me as I talk.
And when I had finally finished explaining everything, he merely smiles gently at me and pats my head.
âWhat a clever child you are,â he tells me as a couple of tears start to roll down my cheeks again.
Iâm sure I look like an absolute mess right now. I wonder if Iâll even be able to open my eyes tomorrow morning after all this crying Iâve been doing.
âSo youâve been learning how to use a sword and reading countless books every day in order to become a villainess.....â
I give him a huge nod.
Grandpa Will smiles broadly at that, the lines around his eyes crinkling.
âNever lose that ambition of yours.â
Surprisingly, heâs actually okay with me wanting to become a villainess.... to the point of endorsing it? I wonder why.....
A villainess is a bad person, you know. Sheâs someone who wonât care what happens to others as long as she, herself, is doing well.....
âYou should go home now.â
âIâll come again.â
At my quick reply, Grandpa Willâs expression turns troubled.
âIt would be better if you didnât come back.â
âNo. I still want to talk with you more, Grandpa Will.â
I wonder if heâs already realized how stubborn I am, and that once Iâve made up my mind to do something Iâll definitely make sure to see it through until the end.
On that note, I leave Grandpa Willâs house and head back towards the mist.
As soon as I get outside, Iâm once again accosted by the awful smell. I cover my nose with my hand in an attempt to avoid the stench as much as possible while I walk.
After a few minutes, Iâve walked into and through the fog, and find myself back in the woods. I carry my extinguished lantern, and start running back towards home.
At this point, my eyes had already become accustomed to the darkness, and as I make my way back I notice that the terror I had felt while coming here is completely gone now. And as I run home, I think more about what I had just seen.
In a few words, that impoverished village is just a place of decay and despair.
I would rather not go there again in the future, but I want to talk more with Grandpa Will. Since, of all of my acquaintance, I definitely think that heâs the wisest person Iâve ever met. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 2,
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ããå人ã®ã«ãé·ã«ã±ãã€ããããªãããã«ãè¬ã®è²©å£²èš±å¯ããããã«è¡ã£ãæ¹ãããããã | âEveryone, thank you very much for yesterday. I will never forget the kindness of helping my daughter. No matter how much time it takes, I will definitely repay the favor.
A stout traveling merchant bows to a large number of undead, along with me, Chloe, Barbera, and Anna-san.
The Red Plague.
A dreadful disease with a % mortality rate once contracted, and itâs also a contagious disease.
If it werenât for Anna-san, who has been researching for years, the merchantâs child would not have been cured.
In fact, it seems there has never been a cure before, and Anna-san used it for the first time, other than in experiments on the undead.
Yesterdayâs treatment seems to have been even more critical than I thought.
âIâm really glad we made it in time for the help. Truly...â
Anna-san is genuinely smiling.
Sheâs relieved that they were able to treat the Red Plague, the disease that once destroyed them.
âYes, please, both of you and Naoya-san, Chloe-san, for precaution, please drink this.â
âAnna-san, whatâs this?â
âHmm, itâs bitter and smells like grass, Anna! Hah! Could it be that this tastes like the rumored thing? Naoya is trying to get me used to it under his command! Damn it, Naoya, thatâs sneaky!â
âChloe, drink it before hearing the explanation. And whatâs with that, itâs more confusing than usual. Are you half-asleep?â
What Anna-san handed over is a small, transparent bottle about the size of a nutritional drink.
Inside is a clear red liquid.
It doesnât seem to be reflecting the early morning sunlight but rather seems to be faintly glowing.
âItâs a medicine for the Red Plague. Well, itâs a diluted version of yesterdayâs medicine. But if taken before the spots appear, it should be effective enough.â
âOh, right, we came into contact with that child with the infectious disease. Huh? What about Barbera?â
â...Am strong. Not affected.â
âAh, Barbera is Barbera, so of course she wouldnât get the Red Plague. Itâs natural since sheâs more like a material for the medicine.â
I wondered if there was any medicine for Barbera, and it seems thatâs the reason.
As expected of a dragon.
Come to think of it, the medicine had dragon blood in it.
Itâs a relief it wasnât some pointless self-harm.
âUgh, itâs bitter! The smell of grass is strong too. They say good medicine tastes bitter, and it does cure the Red Plague, so Iâll endure it, but...â
The pharmaceutical science of my world, which adjusts the taste, forms it into capsules, tablets, granules, and various other forms, is amazing.
Well, since it barely made it in time, thereâs no choice but to accept it.
After gulping down the unpleasant medicine, I ask Anna-san again.
âAnna-san, whatâs the consultation about?â
âBefore that... Naoya-san, Iâm sorry for yesterday. I made medicine on my own and used it... there were things like nutrient drinks, blankets, and cooling agents that could have been sold.â
âHaha, no problem, Anna-san. More than a small profit like that, the storeâs reputation is more important.â
If the child of the traveling merchant died on the premises of Aion Mallâs otherworldly store, especially from a contagious disease, without a doubt, customers would stay away. I wouldnât go.
Moreover, no one would visit a shopping mall where there was a 0% mortality rate infectious disease. Even if itâs âscientifically safeâ in this otherworld, proving âsafetyâ is more challenging than ensuring âpeace of mind.â
âThatâs why Iâm truly grateful that Anna-san treated us, and the opportunity to sell goods for nursing a single person doesnât matter at all. It doesnât hurt at all.â
âIâm glad to hear you say that... Truly, Naoya-san.â
âHmm! Anna, even if I were the store manager, I wouldâve been okay with it! Thereâs nothing more important than saving a child suffering from illness!â
âHaha, thatâs true, Chloe-san.â
âReally, Chloe, you say sensible things occasionally. If it werenât for your perverted mind, you might not have been called the Clumsy Knight, huh?â
âHey, thatâs rude, Naoya! Iâm a proud elf of the Vertu Village and a holy knight!â
âDespite being a runaway girl. So, Anna-san, about the consultation?â
âI want to distribute medicine to those who came into contact with the child infected with the Red Plague. The people who might have come into contact but are not present here are the city gatekeepers and everyone in Aion yesterday morning, right?â
âAh, I see.â
The Red Plague is contagious.
Not only us, who received medicine just now, but others who came into contact with it may also be infected.
Anna was looking at me with a serious expression.
Behind her were the Skeleton Captain and Skeleton Squad, Skeleton with an apron, and even zombies.
The ghost possessing the rabbit costume seems to be clinging to me somehow. Maybe itâs asking for something.
âIs that not possible?â
âOf course, itâs okay. And Anna-san, by the way, please advertise that a drugstore will be opening soon.â
âEh? Naoya-san?â
âAnna-san can make medicine. Moreover, a cure for the incurable Red Plague. And both Anna-san and Chloe can use healing magic. As a drugstore, donât you think you can rely on them?â
âOh, that means itâs my turn! Naoya is relying on me!â
âEven so, we canât sell the medicines brought from my world because the stock is low. Is that sufficient?â
â...Yes. Yes!â
Ignoring Chloe, who seems enthusiastic for some reason, I tell Anna-san.
Anna-san agreed with a beaming smile.
Even the skeletons behind her clattered their bones in excitement.
Oh, can the zombie not applaud? Thereâs a wet sound like something is splashing around. Does that contain pathogens?
âWe canât use devices, and we canât replenish the medicines there, so letâs give up on the medical mall. Also, it seems like it would be a good idea to prepare bandages and other daily necessities for this world. Especially for adventurers who get injured outside the city.â
âI see, I see. Manager, may I ask something?â
âOh, yes, what is it, Mr. Merchant?â
âCould you let me wholesale daily necessities, including bandages? I also deal with daily necessities for trading in the rural areas.â
The traveling merchant, who had been silent until now, responded to my words.
The plump old man must have thought it was a chance to repay even a little.
â I see, itâs easier when you narrow down your suppliers to some extent. However, that means involving middlemen, which may result in higher costs compared to dealing directly.â
âHaha, Iâll definitely learn from that! After all, everyone here is my benefactor! Profit can be earned elsewhere! Besides, with an increase in the quantity of purchases, you can negotiate the procurement price.â
The traveling merchant laughs, patting his round belly.
He seems to plan on wholesaling to us without adding extra profit, offering a discount on the procurement price for the increased quantity, and then selling elsewhere to secure a profit. Despite talking about repaying kindness, he doesnât seem willing to incur losses. His shrewdness makes him reliable as a businessman.
âLetâs discuss that in detail later. For now, Anna-san, may I ask for your assistance?â
âYes! Weâll get ready then!â
Anna-san and her companions aim to overcome the Red Death, a long-cherished goal. To prevent its spread in the city, Anna eagerly heads towards the backyard, followed by her undead subordinates.
âAh, can you have the zombies avoid passing through here? Not for the dirt, but to prevent contamination.â
Iâm being cautious as the undead pass by.
If Anna-sanâs words from last night are true, zombies seem to be carriers of the Red Death. The zombie, hand in hand with the ghost in a costume, stops and tilts its head, not because itâs cute, but because its floppy head is about to fall.
âBlood is medicine. Sell?â
âNo, wonât sell. So stop cutting like a habitual self-harmer, Barbera.â
I stop Barbera, who is showing her wrists.
Even though dragon blood is known to have medicinal properties and quick healing effects, Barberaâs self-harming with the appearance of a 10-year-old is bad for my mental health. Running my fingers through her hair, Barbera squints as if ticklish.
âAlright then. Since Anna-san is not here, letâs start preparing for the store opening! ...For now, Chloe, âpurifyâ the area where the zombies were.â
âSure thing, Naoya! Leave it to me, the holy knight!â
â...Hmm. Breath. Disinfect.â
âPlease stop, Barbera-san. The ladies from the farms will be here soon, and they might see you.â
On the 13th day since I arrived in the other world and the 12th day as the store manager of Aiwon Mall in the other world, today seems to involve both running the business and preparing for the opening of the drugstore.
Come to think of it, is it okay to let Anna-san go to the city alone? Oh, to avoid complaints from the Merchant Guild head, it might be a good idea to get permission for selling medicine. | {
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俺ã¯ãŽã©ã³ãå®å¿ãããããã«ã埮ç¬ãã§ãããã | Kathe had had her face close to me, but she now flinched and jumped back.
That meant a distance of about steps. That was how large the wind dragon rulerâs body was.
âAh! Dad. Donât approach us while erasing your presence like that!â
âI didnât erase anything. You just let your guard down, thatâs all.â
And then Dorgo landed next to me. Eric and Goran were riding on his back.
Indeed, they had asked me to wait for minutes. However, I hadnât expected them to actually arrive within minutes.
It should have been quite difficult, even with the wings of a wind dragon.
I bowed my head to Dorgo.
âIâm sorry. You must be very busy right now.â
âNo-no! I was just thinking about paying my daughter a visit.â
Dorgo said with a laugh. I turned to Eric and Goran as they got off of Dorgoâs back.
âYou were awfully quick.â
âOf course, we are. We all happened to be together at the palace.â
âAnd so it was possible to come here at such short notice.â
Eric and Goran looked a little smug.
âWhat? You flew here from the palace?â
âNo, we wouldnât do that. It would cause quite a scene.â
âWe left the city through your mansion and then took off from there.â
Eric, Goran, and Dorgo were very fast on their feet.
Honestly, now I was worried about all the rumors that would spread after people saw them running.
Eric immediately started to inspect the area and then turned to the teleportation circle.
It was still active.
A dim, shining magic circle was floating in the air above the fist-sized device.
âSo, this is the teleportation circle that you were talking about?â
âYes. An army of vampires that even included High Lords came out of this thing.â
âWell, we should go inside then.â
Eric seemed very excited.
âBut first, we should contact the beastkin wolves.â
âI already did that while we were flying. Donât worry.â
So he had done it while riding Dorgo. That was the king for you. He knew what he was doing.
Just then, Serulis shouted towards us.
âIâm going too!â
âSerulis. You are staying right here.â
Goran said bluntly. Iâd seen this happen a few times before.
âI know that youâve grown a lot, but we canât predict what will happen on the other side.â
âYouâre saying that thereâs a high likelihood that I wonât be able to deal with it?â
âTo be honest, yes. But we also donât know what will happen here as well. It would be best to leave people here who can fight.â
This was, of course, partly to console her, but it wasnât just that.
We really did need to leave fighters as well.
However, Kathe tilted her head in puzzlement.
âHmm. I can understand why you wouldnât take Nia or Luchila. But surely Serulis can handle herself out there?â
âKathe, you may say that, but...â
âYouâre taking Shia, arenât you?â
âYes, of course, I am going. After all, it was the beastkin settlements that were attacked.â
Shia said without hesitation.
The beastkin wolves were vampire hunters, and yet the vampires had attacked them.
Not only that, but the assault had included the twelve mansions of the chiefs.
âThis is clearly a declaration of all-out war.â
âRe...ally?â
I wasnât sure how to answer her.
After all, the vampires and beastkin had been fighting for ages. How would a declaration of war have any meaning at this point?
âConsidering that they used a giant bomb, they meant to annihilate us all.â
âI understand how you feel, Shia... But...â
Goran thought for a moment.
As for me, I thought the vampires were actually targeting the palace.
The beastkin would have had trouble analyzing the bomb.
The likely scenario would have been for them to ask the palace sorcerers and alchemists for help. That way, the bomb would have been taken to the palace within the city.
And thatâs when it would have exploded.
â...That being said, they couldnât have expected things to be carried out so quickly.â
And yet, the vampires had come out as if they had been ready.
Perhaps they didnât care if it was the beastkin or the palace that was destroyed.
âMister Locke is right.â
Shia said as she looked at us.
âAnd so it is impossible that we beastkin wolves will not participate in the fight.â
And yet, we clearly did not have time to wait for the others to arrive.
Nia was much too young. And so weâd have no choice but to take Shia.
âIf Shia can go, then so can I!â
Goran still had his doubts.
âWhy not? Thereâs a saying, âthrow the cute children into the tigerâs den.ââ
â...No there isnât. Iâve never heard of such a saying.â
I said. And then Dorgo muttered.
â...Well, there is, actually. Among us dragons.â
âIs that true?â
âYes. And sometimes, we actually do it.â
But dragon children were strong. I guess thatâs how different they were from weak humans.
After hearing Katheâs advice, Eric said to Goran in a quiet voice,
âGoran. Why not allow her? She is already a first-rate warrior. Though, it will be dangerous...â
â...Indeed. Serulis. I will allow you to come then, but you must listen to my orders. And you better not go charging into the enemy on your own.â
âI know that. Thank you!â
Serulis looked very happy. However, Goran remained anxious as he whispered to me.
âLocke. Iâm counting on you to help me.â
âI know. Donât worry.â
I smiled in an attempt to calm him. | {
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The rumble of thunder erupted in the distance, and raindrops pounded the roofs of the base and the ground of the field.
Amidst all this, Pumpkin applied magic power to the tips of his vines which had newly grown during the spring to make them inflate, and at the same time, did a few treatments on the inflated parts.
Furthermore, he also poured magic power on the crops that were planted in the field to accelerate their growth for harvesting.
âHowâs it going with your preparations?â
âMizuki, huh?â
And this was the moment when Mizuki came into the base and asked whether he was ready for the dragon-slaying.
âAnytime youâre ready.â
Pumpkin hung the various catalysts that were placed in an organized manner around him and tied them to his body with cords.
The catalysts would serve as catalysts for resonance magic, should they be needed.
âSo howâs your side of things, Mizuki?â
âI am always ready to go. Iâd prefer it to be a rainy day like today if possible.â
âFor me, sunny days are easier because of the automatic recovery from photosynthesis. Well, it is better than cloudy day or night.â
Moreover, the reason why Mizuki said that rainy weather would be more advantageous for her was that she herself was a water spirit, which meant that when rain was falling, her magic power would constantly recover and the consumption of magic power when using magic would also decrease.
Pumpkin, on the other hand, could gain a practically unlimited supply of stamina through photosynthesis when the weather was sunny and heal himself, albeit slowly, from wounds.
It would be useful if I could use resonance magic in the rain or sunlight, but well... thatâs unlikely to be achievable anytime soon, so Iâll give up on that.
âNow, that being the case, we can head out as soon as weâve confirmed the information and assembled a strategy.â
âRight. Then, letâs go check it out.â
There was no sense in seeking something that was not available, which was why he decided to make do with the cards in his hand.
Subsequently, Pumpkin learned about the dragon from Mizuki once more.
âFirst of all, the dragonâs name is Entdragon. Normally, the dragon usually sleeps in unison with the plants and only awakens in times of emergency to protect the order and peace of the entire forest. However, that Entdragon that inhabits that tree is the exact opposite of that.â
âA mutation, you mean?â
âI wonder. My knowledge is based on what I have received from the senior spirits, but in reality, they may be a species that has had this aspect from the very beginning. Even if we strive to learn all of this, it wonât be helpful. Either way, that Entdragon has to be defeated.â
Pumpkin agreed with Mizukiâs words and tried practicing shifting the color of his magic power.
Yeah. I can do this in my usual condition with no problems.
âSo, when it comes to combat, what kind of moves will the Entdragon perform?â
âYeah. All I know of them is the sight of them rampaging every year at the end of the rainy season... but from what Iâve witnessed, they pose the greatest threat...â
âHmm. In that case...â
Having heard from Mizuki about the Entdragonâs assault methods and having conceived of countermeasures for each strike, they then settled on fundamental strategies and techniques for coordination in their battle against the Entdragon.
âI guess thatâs about it. I mean, itâs still raining even after nightfall.â
He looked outside upon the conclusion of his discussion with Mizuki.
The sun had unexpectedly gone down for an extended period of time. However, the rain persisted throughout the session, and what sounded like thunder could be heard from time to time.
âThis is how things typically are at this time of year. So what are you going to do? With you and me dealing with the level of Entdragon, it doesnât matter if itâs day or night, right?â
Behind Mizukiâs words lay the fact that while the Entdragon harbored vast volumes of magic power, they did not suppress the amount they released like Pumpkin, and for him, who can visually observe magic power directly, and for Mizuki, whose magic power was an entity with a will, she could accurately detect their presence irrespective of the time of day or night.
Therefore, it can be safely assumed that the Entdragon followed the rhythm of life of plants, and at night they were in a state close to that of sleep.
âSuccess results from being swift and decisive. Deception is a key element in the art of war. Unexpected attacks on the adversary are a core pillar of warfare, even though I canât really remember who said it.â [i]
âYeah, letâs move.â
Pumpkin and Mizuki figured that once everything was in place, the sooner they could begin their move, the development will work in their favor.
And when they were outside the base...
[Guruaaaaaaaahhhh!!]
[[!?]]
As the roar of the enormous beast, which had a mentally intimidating and physically destructive effect by imbuing the entire forest with magic power, resounded throughout the forest, Mizuki and Pumpkin hurriedly exerted all their strength so as not to be swept away by it.
âMizuki... what was that?â
âItâs the voice of Entdragon. I hear it year after year, so thereâs no way I could have mistaken it.â
His question was met by a slight agitation from Mizuki.
Even while they were talking, there was a crushing noise coming from the source of the roar, and occasionally a yellow bolt of lightning could be seen rising from the ground to the black clouds above.
Apparently, the dragon was a creature that belonged to the wood element of the Five Elements concept, which suggested that they could command lightning as well.
âWell... looks like the idiot from somewhere beat us to it, so what are we going to do?â
âWe must get on with it. Who knows what might happen if we allowed this to go rogue.â
âWell, youâre right...! Hyulolooo!!â
Mizuki and Pumpkin then affirmed each other before moving in the direction of where they suspected the Entdragon was. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 3,
"inserted_lines_src": 1,
"inserted_lines_trg": 1
} |
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ãæŒã£ãŠããã | At noon of the fifth day, Stollar finally became visible.
Gadius had apparently opened a new inn there.
Stollar was a surprisingly big city, and at the same time as it being the capital for Stolla, it also had a high-grade academy too.
Donovan, who was my upperclassmen at the magic academy, was the lord of this region, and I heard he was acting as a lord while also attending that academy.
As expected, there were no giant buildings like Raumâs Magic Academy, but it was still an unbelievably developed city you wouldnât expect from the countryside, with tall, strong walls surrounding it.
âWelcome to Stollar. Sorry, but let me see your documents before we let you inside.â
The gate guard with a pike in hand welcomed us with a tone that suggested he was not very welcoming.
I guess thatâs how it would be when he had to repeat the same exact phrase over and over with hundreds of people going through the gate daily.
Temuru presented his identification documents from the Merchantâs Guild, while Leonâs party presented their Adventurerâs Guild IDs.
Naturally, we also imitated Leon and presented our own as well.
âHmm, a fourth-rank and a bunch of first-ranks. Thatâs a strange combination.â
âWell, we were planning to educate these kids. In the end, they turned out to be so capable there was nothing to teach, however.â
âOh? There seem to be minors with you... But they look quite promising. In various ways.â
âYou better give up on meddling those girls. They are related to the Six Heroes.â
Leon warned the guard who muttered that with a lewd look on his face after checking Finiaâs looks and Michelleâs boobs. Hearing that, the guard stiffened and became all proper.
âThe Six Heroes! Which means you are staying at that Lord Gadiusâ inn!?â
âYeah, thatâs the plan.â
âBut...â
The guard paused with a troubled expression. It felt like he wanted to say something.
âWhatâs the matter?â
that
Lord Gadius. The guests rushed in the moment it opened up. I heard that itâs fully occupied even now. Iâm not sure you can rent rooms there...â
âI see... I mean, I guess that was to be expected. These kids aside, itâs probably impossible for us, huh.â
âProbably. There are so many Adventurers flooding towards that inn, that even Iâm having trouble actually.â
âWell, my condolences for that. But itâs your work, so gotta keep it up.â
âItâs been a while since Iâve heard such half-hearted encouragement.â
When Gadius opened his inn, the Adventurers flooded the northern territory. And the majority of those were newbies who admired the Six Heroes or those with ambitions beyond their means. The results didnât bring about the increase in population, and instead just worsened the public order.
But that was also a temporary thing, and those with no ability were being weeded out, and only those with actual skill remained. This was an unchanging fact even if it was Gadiusâ inn.
âThis city does not lose to Raum in size.â
After we parted with the guard and entered inside, we were greeted with noisy traffic.
The bustling we were seeing here and the number of people were mostly the same compared to Raum. It was enough for me to agree with Finiaâs comment.
However, the nature of that tumult suddenly changed. Looking closely, there was a carriage with extravagant decorations speeding towards the gate.
âW-Whatâs going on!?â
âI wonder?â
Michelle answered back carefreely as I took a step back in shock. This girl might actually have a lot of guts.
The carriage eventually stopped before the gate, or rather, before us, and one person disembarked from it.
It was a man whose face I remembered.
âWelcome to Stollar, Lady Nicole!â
âEek!? Oh, good day, Donovan. You look to be in good health?â
I ended up raising a stiff shriek at him suddenly jumping out like that.
I mean, everyone would react like that if someone clung to them all of a sudden. Donovan didnât seem to consider my state and continued talking.
âYes, with the Six Heroes backing, my problems got resolved in the blink of an eye. I really am indebted to you people!â
After graduating from the Magic Academy and starting to attend the one in this city, he seemed to have grown a bit plump compared to how I remembered him.
With his stress about the followers not obeying him gone, his appetite probably increased too.
âOh my, it is tactless of me to stand around and talk! Please follow me. I shall guide you to Lord Gadiusâs inn, Greatshieldâs Protection!â
âNo, weâre still working now.â
âPlease donât be so modest...â
âWe are working!â
Ever since Donovan solved his dilemma before graduation thanks to my mediation, he started to revere me as his master.
He probably went to the trouble of coming here because Cortina and Maxwell contacted him beforehand. Since he arrived with a carriage, he probably had an estimate of our arrival time. Cortina should have easily managed that much.
That said, we couldnât move while our commission wasnât completed. This served as sort of an expedition practice for us. We had to see it properly to the end.
âWe are currently in the middle of a commission, so please refrain from that.â
âUgh, it would do no good to get in the way of Lady Nicoleâs work. Understood, I shall wait at the inn ahead of time.â
âItâs fine, you donât have to wait for us. Weâre all tired after a long journey.â
âAhh, that was insensitive of me. Then I shall send a messenger at a later date, so may we share a meal?â
âIf I feel like it.â
Donovan sure has mellowed down. He used to be trash who looked down on commoners whenever he came across one.
I guess you could call this growth too. It was far better than him being a prejudiced and arrogant lord.
âOh right, do you know of a good inn? Mr. Leon here was worried whether there would be an open inn for his party.â
âI have heard good rumors about Yamabiko inn near the western gate. However, it is on the pricier side.â
âThank you, Lord, we shall definitely visit it.â
Leon answered with a somewhat tame attitude. He looked towards the crest on Donovanâs carriage.
Needless to say, it was the Serwa crest, in other words, of Donovanâs household.
Anyone familiar would instantly realize that he was the lord.
âUhh, are you acquaintanced with the Lord, Nicole?â
âHe was my upperclassman in the Magic Academy. Cortina also helped him resolve a troubling matter, so he seems to feel a debt to me too since I intermediated things.â
âSo thatâs the reason behind his attitude... Makes sense.â
Ellen secretly whispered into my ear.
It seemed that we would be able to spend a hectic time even in this city. | {
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ã ãå¿ãæºãããããããªããããªå¹»èŽãèãããã®ã¯ã | âHey, Merc. You sure took a while.â
Totoara greeted Merc as she entered the innâs cafeteria. Merc also lifted her hand, but instead of focusing her gaze on Totoaraâs hand, she fixated it on her enhanced chest.
âDid you already order?â
âYea. Itâll probably take a bit, so I also ordered for you as well, I hope you donât mind.â
âItâs fine. Itâs not like the food in inns is that different.â
âThe owners would get angry if they heard that, you know.â
It was a simple set meal with bread as the side dish and boneless fish as the main course. It didnât appear to be either good or bad. Small grains of a fruit were served as dessert.
âIâll say it once more. Welcome to the world of adventurers. Congratulations.â
Totoara spoke out just as Merc was about to put a piece of bread into her mouth.
âThank you, senior... Come to think of it, Totoara, what Grade are you?â
âFour. And Zal is Grade .â
âI see. Is it really so tough to take down a Yellow Grade with a Grade Adventurer of this age?â
Merc asked as she remembered Zal and Totoara ran away from the Guran that sheâd fought for her final trial.
âItâd be tough for an adventurer from any age. That Guran was quite similar to a Ruzo Guran (Large Guran), which is an Orange Grade. If it was slightly smaller, then three Grade Adventurers would have been able to take it down. However, to beat the one we faced, weâd need at least Grade Adventurers approaching Grade .â
âAnd how about you, Totoara?â
âI wouldnât stand a chance. Even though Iâm almost at Grade , I wouldnât be able to help.â
Merc nibbled the torn bread, satisfied with Totoaraâs reply. Sheâd been eating mainly the prey sheâd captured recently, so having food like this every now and then was nice.
âThatâs right... Thatâs why Iâm so eager right now!â
âWhat?â
âIâm curious to see what type of monster youâll become, given that you were able to take down a Guran on your own before becoming an adventurer. Iâd wager that not even the Heroâs disciple would have been able to do that!â
â......â
It was undoubtedly doable for the present Blazing Impact, but they would have had a difficult time doing so when they initially started out. And the fact that Merc had been able to take down such a monster on her alone begged the question of who she was.
It was no surprise that Totoara was ecstatic.
Merc, on the other hand, ate her food quietly, avoiding Totoaraâs gaze since she was at a loss for what to say. Totoara chuckled bitterly and kept her enthusiasm in check after seeing Merc in such a state.
âBut to think that youâre still . Youâre so young. Youâll definitely be active for another couple of decades.â
âProbably...â
Furthermore, Merc was an elf. She could be active for a century or even more...
Come to think of it, I still havenât told the Guild or Totoara that Iâm an elf. Still, I donât think anything will change even if I told them now. Well, I can just tell them if the topic comes up.
âBy the way, Merc, do you have any parties in mind?â
Totoara inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.
âA party...â
When Merc heard that she instantly thought of her original party, however, she quickly gave up the idea. After all, it had already been 15 years. Gust of Wind had most likely found a replacement for Estert or were just acting with the other three members. It was also possible that they had split and were each pursuing their own interests.
Which only left Blazing Impact. With a short-ranged swordsman, a middle-range spearman, and a magician for long-range support, Blazing Impact was a well-balanced team. However, they lacked a Healer. It would likely be easy for Merc to fill in that position.
When Merc had looked at them from the side, she had noticed that Blazing Impact had a strong synergy. Each of its members were powerful in their own right, and they had a solid balance between them, which accentuated their strengths even more.
If Merc joined them, she risked disturbing that balance and weakening them. And Merc didnât want that.
âNo, I donât.â
Merc replied after a short delay. Totoara immediately sprung up and said, âThen how about my party?! Weâre quite energetic!â
âC-Close! Youâre close!â
Totoara pushed her face closer to Mercâs, causing Merc to shrink back. To be more specific, it wasnât Totoaraâs face that pushed Merc back, but Totoaraâs bulging chest. Unfortunately, Totoara couldnât know that.
âC-Calm down... First, I donât know anything about your party. Second, wouldnât this create some problems with the Guild?â
âWouldnât people think there was something shady if one of the examinees suddenly joined an examinerâs party?â
âOh...â
Totoara immediately sat back down after hearing that. She recognized that her suggestion would cause rumors to spread.
Sheâd most likely be criticized for passing the examinee only so she could invite them to her party. Or that she had purposely been kind to the examinee in order to get them to join her party.
If news of anything like this got out, even if it wasnât accurate, negative rumors would spread, and the adventurer exam would take the hit. There was no way the Guild hadnât thought of such a scenario. They most likely had some measures to prevent such things.
âThereâs a rule that states that for the next five years after passing their test, the examiner is not permitted to form parties with any of the examinees...â
âI knew it. Iâm sorry, but as you can see, it wonât work. Give it up.â
âUrgh... Then after five years...â
âIâll probably have a party by then.â
Totoara glanced down, disappointed. Totoara, on the other hand, didnât appear all that disappointed based on her tone.
âDespite your appearance, Totoara, youâre quite the scatterbrain.â
Merc said with a smile as she reached her hand towards the dessert.
The dessert was a Goza, a small purple fruit with a thin skin. It could be sweet or sour depending on the variety, hence it was commonly presented as an aperitif with alcohol.
Normally, one would carefully peel the Gozaâs skin with a knife and a fork
, but Merc had never been good at it.
It had been a while since she had attempted to peel them, but it was still difficult for her. Even though she had trained her hands by making medicine, she still couldnât peel the skin of a Goza.
âHm... You little... Ah!â
Due to her inability to regulate her strength, Merc dropped the Goza under the table. Merc merely stood there, dumbfounded, as the Goza rolled away, while Totoara looked at her and said,
âYou really have some nerve calling others scatterbrained. Even kids nowadays have no problem peeling Goza...â
Iâm amazed... I knew you were clumsy, but I didnât imagine you couldnât even peel a Goza...
Totoara remarked timidly, assuming that her last comment which she had said without thinking had upset Merc.
âN-No, itâs nothing. Hahaha. Iâm as clumsy as always it seems.â
Could this be because of the dream this morning?
Mercâs heart was full of joy despite the harsh statement made by the voice that had sounded in her head like a dream. | {
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åªãããããã声è²ã§ãæšéŸã¯ãããã«ã¯ã¹ãžåããã | âEveryone, letâs work together! We have no chance of winning if we each fight him on our own! Ganymedes, put me on top of the sheep brat! Tauros, you come too!â
âItâs Taurus.â
After Aquarius shouted that, Taurus got on top of Aries as per her instructions.
Furthermore, Ganymedes also jumped onto Ariesâs back all the while holding onto Aquarius. This action was replicated by the Three Winged Knights.
Phoenix and Hydrus, who were unable to get onto Aries themselves due to their sizes, each stood to either side of him and then stared back at the ouroboros.
âAlright, listen up, everyone. Itâs vexing, but that b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲âs leagues above us. If we challenge it without coordinating our movements, we donât stand a chance. Fortunately for us, we have a way of fighting against him. The little girlâs (Virgo) Vindemiatrix is...â
ãGiga Graviton Rapid Fire! ã
Aquarius tried to convey a strategy to her allies, but the ouroboros they were facing was not a naïve enemy who would leisurely wait whilst the enemy had a conversation mid-battle.
It started firing barrages of gravity bullets without holding back, causing Aries to run around desperately trying to avoid them.
Each shot was not as strong as the Tera Graviton which had knocked Leon down earlier.
Nevertheless, in exchange for the decrease in power, the interval between each individual shot was shortened to the point where it looked like a machine gun. The whole spectacle of the gravity bullets gouging into the earth and making the planet full of holes almost looked hilarious.
It looked just as if balls of dirt were gradually being scooped away, bit by bit, using a spoon.
In any event, even after the might of the individual shots were weakened, those gravity bullets were still a threat for Aries and the rest.
Now that Ruphas had completely regained her powers, their levels were at level . Inevitably, their defence and HP had increased.
Yet, even then, they were likely to become unable to move if they were hit by just three of them.
âYou piece of s̲h̲i̲t̲! Canât you wait while weâre having a strategic meeting!?â
Aquarius jeered at the Earth Ouroboros, but it was pointless.
She then clicked her tongue and continued what she had been saying before.
âAnyways, our little girl here can negate that guyâs attacks a bit, combining that with my skill, we can avoid his attacks as long as itâs not an area-of-effect skill. The only one who can penetrate through his defence is Tauros. Whilst the only thing that did any damage to him was the sheepâs flames.â
âItâs Taurus. Itâs about time you start remembering my name properly.â
âIâll be on evasion duty, while the little girlâs on defence. Tauros and the sheep will be on offence. The grilled bird and the blue snake, you two will act as support.â
âItâs Water Snake!â
â... I donât even know what to say anymore.â
Although Aquarius herself thought that she was giving orders earnestly, her disposition of being unable to remember peopleâs names caused her orders to come across as a bit weird.
Nevertheless, the instructions that she gave were very precise. If everyone got on top of Aries, then they would only need to put in minimal effort towards defence and evasion.
The attacks aimed towards Aries would be redirected by Aquariusâs skills and the attacks which could not be avoided would be negated by Virgo.
The opponentâs defence would be shattered by Taurus and Aries would ultimately be the one dealing damage.
If Phoenix, Hydrus and the Three Winged Knights were able to provide support and distract the enemyâs attention, it would be perfect.
The enemy was someone who could defeat even Leon with a single hit. There would be no chance of winning if they fought separately in their own accord.
If everyone did not work together, there was no way they could win.
âLetâs go... [Sadachbia]! Charge in, sheep!â
After receiving the absolute evasion buff from Aquarius, Aries fired flames from his hooves and ran in the air.
In response, the ouroboros opened its mouth once again and continuously fired more gravity bullets.
But all of the shots were automatically redirected from Aries and could not even scratch him.
By the time the ouroboros understood that what was happening was due to the effect of a skill, Aries had already gotten right in front of its face and Taurus was swinging his axe down on its head.
With a single blow of Aldebaran, the repulsion force field was shattered, allowing Ariesâs flames to directly connect.
Subsequently, Aries slid by the ouroboros and created some distance before he changed direction and charged in once more.
ãImpudent... ã
The Earth Ouroboros muttered in annoyance and fired gravity bullets once again.
But the ones that were fired this time were different from before, as they started pulling in everything from their surroundings.
The ones that had been fired before could be described as a form of âheavy pressureâ. It was a skill to crush an enemy down using gravity.
In contrast, the ones fired this time were based on âattractionâ. It was a skill that pulled everything in its surroundings towards it and could not be evaded.
In other words, this was one form of an absolute accuracy skill.
âDid you assume that you can ignore my skills just by using absolute accuracy skills!? Donât look down on me! Skill, [The One Who Swallows (Albali)]!â
Ganymedes positioned the water pitcher and the figure of a little girl disappeared into it.
At the same time, she sucked the gravity shot towards herself. Despite the difference in size, it was swallowed by the water pitcher.
â Reflect!
Of all things that could have happened, the gravity shot hit the Earth Ouroboros. This successfully caused his movement to momentarily stop.
At that moment, Aries charged in to attack, unleashing the god-slaying flames on it once again.
ã...!ã
âDid you think that sucking things in is exclusive to you? Youâre too naïve!â
The Earth Ouroboros did not respond to her with words, but instead increased the gravitational effect of the entire place.
With this, evasion was impossible and it also could not be sucked away like before.
However, this effect was negated by Virgoâs skill, giving Aries a small opening to charge in again.
Taurus shattered the repulsion force field, Aries burned the ouroboros and the other members applied further pressure.
âNow! Aim at the spot where its scales got burned!â
âGot it! Letâs go, Hydrus!â
âAlright!â
After receiving instructions from Aquarius, Phoenix and Hydrus opened their mouths.
They then correspondingly and rapidly fired shots of flame or water one after another, concentrating at the particular spot that Aries had scorched.
Furthermore, the Three Winged Knights, Pavo, Apus and Corvus, aimed and shot their attacks at the eyeball of the ouroboros, creating a smoke screen to block its vision.
As an ouroboros, even its eyeballs were strong beyond all common sense, but nevertheless, it was still enough to hinder its vision for a brief period of time.
In that duration, Aries passed by Leon, allowing Virgo to use healing skills on him.
Because Leon had been hit by the area-of-effect gravity amplification attack, he was moments away from death, but this would be sufficient to allow him to return to battle.
Notwithstanding that, the Earth Ouroboros was still not agitated in the slightest.
It was only natural too. After all, it had not gotten serious yet â but it was planning to do so from now on.
ãVery well. I will also fight properly.ã
As soon as he said that, Aries was sucked towards him.
Although Aries quickly got ahold of himself and tried to ground himself, his body was still being pulled little by little.
The same thing was happening to Phoenix and Hydrus. During this time, Virgo was desperately holding onto Parthenos with one hand and Aries with the other so that Parthenos would not fall off, thus she was preoccupied.
But as if to mock the predicament that they were in, a shower of meteors came closing in from outer space.
The Earth Ouroboros itself was serving as a gravity-inducing mass, pulling all of the stray asteroids from space towards it.
âNot good! Avoid it, sheep!â
Aries madly dashed about and dodged the meteor shower.
One after another, meteors gouged into the earth of Midgard and flames riled up from everywhere one could see.
The ground itself, on the other hand, was splattered upwards and then came falling back down from the sky like it was raining. The whole situation was as if the entirety of Midgard was being blanketed by magma.
With how things had developed, Midgard was no longer a habitable planet.
Yet even then, Ariesâs speed did not drop and he continued to avoid the meteor shower, but... when a vast area of Midgard was suddenly covered by a dark shadow, everyone paled.
What they saw was a giant meteor with a diameter of a few kilometres.
Whilst they were all categorised as meteors, the ones up until now were only a few metres wide. Even then, each had enough destructive power to create a crater dozens of kilometres wide, destroying everything within that range.
But the one coming down this time was on a completely different scale. If something like this were to hit the planet, it was very possible that Midgard itself would be destroyed.
Faced with this despairing predicament, such a thought ran through Aquariusâs mind.
From the very beginning, the ouroboroses... no, the Goddess never minded the damage which would be inflicted on the planet itself.
They had had a faint hope that she would mind it a little.
They had held onto the fleeting hope that perhaps the enemy would not give it their all in consideration of the damage which would be done to the planet.
But now, they understood. It had never been in their consideration.
This was exactly the reason why Ruphas had evacuated as many of Midgardâs inhabitants as possible... Whilst it might have been a forceful move, Ruphasâs decision was in the right.
âTsk, shoot it downâ!â
Aquariusâs command almost sounded like a scream and everyone who could attack began attacking simultaneously.
For example, although Aries was fully occupied with avoiding the other falling meteors, Aquarius, who was on top of him, could switch to destroying the incoming one.
Similarly, Phoenix, Hydrus and Leon looked up whilst the Three Winged Knights flew up towards the falling meteor and started hacking at it.
âTsk! Hydrus!â
âI know!â
Phoenix and Hydrus gathered as much power as possible in their mouths and launched a jet of flame and a stream of water respectively at the falling meteor.
Those two attacks, combined with Aquariusâs magic and Leonâs roar, hit the descending gigantic meteor that was making it look like the sky was falling, and blasted it into pieces.
The meteor, which had now shattered into countless smaller pieces, hailed all around the area while Phoenix and the rest shot them down one after another.
Of course, they were not able to shoot all of them away, but nevertheless, lessening their number helped Aries.
ã... Graviton Wave.ã
But seeing their action as an eyesore, the Earth Ouroboros opened its mouth. This was followed by an invisible roar, which could only be described as a gravitational wave, passing by in front of Phoenix.
Right after the gravitational wave passed in front of him, there was no one left in front of Phoenix.
Until just a moment ago, Hydrus had certainly been standing in front of him. But now, not even a single trace of him was left.
Hydrus had disappeared very anti-climatically â he probably would not have even realised that he had disappeared himself.
âH, Hydrus...? O, oi... where did you go...? Hydrus...?â
Calling out the name of his rival, Phoenix stood there dumbfounded.
But he was only stupefied for a fraction of a moment. In the very next moment, he had turned into a raging flame and was filled with anger.
â.... Y, you b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲â!! Was it youâ!? You were the one who did that to Hydrus!â
âCalm down, grilled chicken! Youâre playing right into his hands!â
Phoenix, who was now enveloped in flames, failed to listen to Aquariusâs restraining words. Losing himself in his anger, he charged straight towards the Earth Ouroboros.
Unfortunately, there was no way that a straightforward frontal assault would be effective against the Earth Ouroboros. In the end, all that his attack managed to do was crack one of the scales on the Earth Ouroboros.
He was then hit by the gravitational wave that the Earth Ouroboros used as a counterattack, and the right side of his body was erased away. Even then, he continued to spew words of resentment and attempted to attack. Regrettably, Phoenix was erased by the Earth Ouroborosâs follow-up attack without a trace, just as Hydrus was.
Whilst he might have been an immortal bird, he was not able to avoid dying when his whole body was erased.
âPhoenix! Hydrus!â
âThereâs no time for you to be minding what happened, sheep! Our skills wonât be able to keep up, so focus on avoiding things!â
Aries continued to run in the air and desperately avoided the meteor shower.
Normally, there was no way he would have been able to avoid something of this degree.
However, at that very moment in time, he was distracted by the Earth Ouroboros itself. Aries was unable to maneuver at even % of his full capacity.
It was not as if all that Aquarius was doing was giving out orders. They had only managed to survive up until this point because she had been continuously and relentlessly casting absolute evasion skills.
But unfortunately, due to the constant stream of attacks, the absolute evasion skills that had been endowed on them had already been used up. The skills were not able to keep up with the constant barrages of attacks.
Noticing the delay in their actions, it turned into a prime opportunity for the opponent and an extremely detrimental lapse in judgement for Aries and the rest.
The Three Winged Knights were unable to dodge in time and were also erased after being hit by the meteor shower, dwindling their numbers further.
Subsequently, the Earth Ouroboros opened its mouth wide and aimed at Aries...
While Aries and the rest were fighting the Earth Ouroboros, Pollux and the others in her group were also engaged in a hard battle at a different place.
Her groupâs opponent was the Ouroboros of Wood.
Going against it were the fairy siblings, Aigokeros, Pisces, Karkinos and Sagittarius.
, and the heroic spirits called forth by Pollux.
Nevertheless, the progress of the battle was by no means in their favour.
No, if one were to be honest with themselves, they were definitely in a disadvantaged position.
Not only was the ouroborosâs defence extremely solid, any damage which could be dealt to it was quickly regenerated.
The ouroboroses were the beings which maintained the balance of the world. As a consequence, they would always be backed up by the very world they existed in.
This was how Pollux had access to unlimited SP.
As her true original body, it was only natural that the Wood Ouroboros would also be able to utilise the powers that she had. As a result, any superficial damage done to it was no different from having done no damage whatsoever.
Not only was it extremely difficult to deal damage in the first place, any damage done would ultimately be negated.
Calling it a cheat would still be an understatement.
âHow could this be...? The Wood Ouroboros, which is our original body, is...â
Pollux ground her teeth, mortified.
They had been prepared to have a hard time. They knew that it would not be an easy battle.
But even then, they could not have predicted that it would turn out like this.
Yes, thatâs right. There was no way that they could have predicted something like this.
That the Wood Ouroboros, which was their real body, was so...â
ãHyoo hyo hyo hyo hyo hyo hyo! Delightful, delightful. Hey, hey, what happened? Are you done already, hmm? Even though you were so pumped up when you first arrived, you look so pitiful now, donât you, hmm? Yeah, yeah, itâs fine even if you attack me more, you know? Iâll receive it all without fighting back, you hear? Heerree, why not try landing a hit on this old manâs face at least once, hmm? Mmmm~? Riiight here. ã
ââ is... such an annoying old geezer!â
ãHyo hyo hyo hyo hyo, how mortifying, how mortifying! ã
The Wood Ouroboros had turned out to be... how should one put it...? It had a completely different personality from that which Pollux had predicted it would have.
As a representative of the creation deity, she had assumed on her own accord that it would be overflowing with a majestic aura and would be stern and rigid in personality.
Indeed, she was the one who had assumed the personality of someone she had never personally met before... She could not help but be forced to admit that she was the one who had wrongly imposed her own assumptions on others.
But even then... she had wanted it to be something more... âreasonableâ.
The appearance of the Wood Ouroboros, which was turning its head from side to side as if to flame the situation (in fact, was flaming the situation) and sticking its tongue out as if to make a fool of his opponent, was very annoying, to say the least.
âFine then! Fine, Iâll do just that! Come here, heroic spirits! Everyone, attack at once!â
Pollux shouted out in anger, then summoned even more heroic spirits.
If the opponent was the greatest in quality, then she would be the greatest in quantity.
Numerous heroic spirits flew in front of her and all activated their skills simultaneously.
There were so many arrays of different coloured beams that they filled up the entire sky. They were all aimed towards the Wood Ouroboros and landed on it directly, but that was not all.
fired, Sagittarius, Aigokeros, Pisces and Castor also slammed the Wood Ouroboros with their arcane magic. The crab, which was unable to use arcane magic, decided to at least clank his scissors. Even though it was already the final battle, he was a useless man as usual.
A flame pillar rose, piercing the sky, and an area of land equal to the area of the continent of Africa on Earth disappeared at once.
However, after the residual smoke cloud from that explosion lifted, what remained was the unaffected appearance of the Wood Ouroboros.
ãDelightful, delightful. Mmm, it was a good massage. Next time, message my back, alright? You see, Iâm a bit stiff after having just woken up. ... Oh. Wait, was that supposed to have been an attack just now? In that case, I might have said something rude, hmm?ã
â~~~~g!!â
Pollux wordlessly screamed before, in her fury, making an expression that she normally would not show to others.
She then summoned even more heroic spirits and continuously activated skills to strike at the Wood Ouroboros with the intention of brute-forcing her way through using numbers.
However, the moment she did so, she was assaulted by a sense of lethargy that she had never felt before and collapsed onto the floor of the
â... Eh?â
Although she somehow managed to catch herself by using her hands to break her fall, she was unable to put any strength into her arms.
Her arms were trembling and she was unable to put any strength into her feet as well.
Her vision distorted and she started to sweat.
What... what happened?
â Unable to understand what was happening to herself, she was left in a state of confusion whilst suffering from an unknown phenomenon.
Sensing an abnormality with Polluxâs condition, Castor went to her but was unable to find any injury whatsoever. There were also no traces of her being poisoned.
They were truly unable to figure out what might have been the cause.
In response to their predicament, the Wood Ouroboros provided an answer.
ãHmm, it happened much quicker than I was expecting it to. Well, never mind, regardless of that, you did well.ã
âW, wha, did y, you do?â
ãI havenât done anything, you know. You just used too much of your power and collapsed on your own. Well, in other words, you just ran out of SP.ã
â for those who participated in battles, it was a sensation that they would no doubt have to endure at least once, but it was something which was generally unrelated to Pollux.
She was the Fairy Princess. As an avatar of the ouroboros, she was constantly backed up by the world itself, and as such, her SP was infinite. As a consequence, she had never once ran out of SP. It just could not happen.
âI, I ran out of SP...? Could it be...?â
ãLooks like you figured it out. Thatâs right, you had infinite power because you were my avatar... and you became an enemy to me. Youâre no longer backed up by the world, you know?ã
ãAlthough, itâs the same for me. Now that the world is breaking apart to this extent, itâs laughable to talk about this backup thing.ã
The skill, [Return of the Heroic Spirits (Argonautai)] had an overpowered effect, but in return, it had an extremely high SP consumption rate.
The only reason Pollux was able to use it despite this was because she had access to unlimited power.
Now that her power was no longer infinite and had become finite, one would not need to think hard to understand that her reserves would be quickly exhausted if she continued to use the skill.
If she had thought about it a little, she should have been able to predict it appropriately. She should have thought about it beforehand.
Pollux cursed her own carelessness and felt ashamed that she had allowed such a disgraceful behaviour to happen during the final battle.
Even though they were in this predicament, the Wood Ouroboros did not follow up and attack, and instead spoke to them refreshingly.
ãIsnât this enough? You should understand the difference in our strength by now.ã
Pollux looked up at the Wood Ouroboros and boldly glared at it.
It was not an enemy that would be taken aback just because she glared at it. However, she at least wanted to show that her heart had not yet been broken.
Yes, she understood the difference in their strength. So what?
Was she supposed to just let it kill her without resistance?
But the subsequent words spoken by the Wood Ouroboros were not something that Pollux had anticipated.
ãIf you stop now, it should still be fine. You should stop fighting and plead with the Goddess for forgiveness. If you do so, the Goddess will most likely forgive you. Iâll come and plead with you... so, my child, why not put a stop to this and grow out of this somewhat late rebellious phase?ã
It was as if the Wood Ouroboros was coaxing a child who was not listening to what they were being told. It was as if it was trying to persuade her.
With a kind and gentle voice, the Wood Ouroboros said this to Pollux. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 3,
"inserted_lines_src": 20,
"inserted_lines_trg": 8
} |
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ä»æ¥ã®è©±ã§ æè«ã«å¯Ÿããèãæ¹ãå€ãã£ãããª? ä»åºŠããšããããæ¯ãåãåã« ä»æ¥ã®è©±ãæãåºããŠãã ãã | But basically, I figured out that I could find those alien creatures right on Earth.
And what I do is I study insects.
I'm obsessed with insects, particularly insect flight.
I think the evolution of insect flight is perhaps one of the most important events in the history of life.
Without insects, there'd be no flowering plants.
Without flowering plants, there would be no clever, fruit-eating primates giving TED Talks.
Now, David and Hidehiko and Ketaki gave a very compelling story about the similarities between fruit flies and humans, and there are many similarities, and so you might think that if humans are similar to fruit flies, the favorite behavior of a fruit fly might be this, for example -- but in my talk, I don't want to emphasize on the similarities between humans and fruit flies, but rather the differences,
and focus on the behaviors that I think fruit flies excel at doing.
And so I want to show you a high-speed video sequence of a fly shot at 7,000 frames per second in infrared lighting, and to the right, off-screen, is an electronic looming predator that is going to go at the fly.
The fly is going to sense this predator.
It is going to extend its legs out.
It's going to sashay away to live to fly another day.
Now I have carefully cropped this sequence to be exactly the duration of a human eye blink, so in the time that it would take you to blink your eye, the fly has seen this looming predator, estimated its position, initiated a motor pattern to fly it away, beating its wings at 220 times a second as it does so.
I think this is a fascinating behavior that shows how fast the fly's brain can process information.
Now, flight -- what does it take to fly?
Well, in order to fly, just as in a human aircraft, you need wings that can generate sufficient aerodynamic forces, you need an engine sufficient to generate the power required for flight, and you need a controller, and in the first human aircraft, the controller was basically the brain of Orville and Wilbur sitting in the cockpit.
Now, how does this compare to a fly?
Well, I spent a lot of my early career trying to figure out how insect wings generate enough force to keep the flies in the air.
And you might have heard how engineers proved that bumblebees couldn't fly.
Well, the problem was in thinking that the insect wings function in the way that aircraft wings work. But they don't.
And we tackle this problem by building giant, dynamically scaled model robot insects that would flap in giant pools of mineral oil where we could study the aerodynamic forces.
And it turns out that the insects flap their wings in a very clever way, at a very high angle of attack that creates a structure at the leading edge of the wing, a little tornado-like structure called a leading edge vortex, and it's that vortex that actually enables the wings to make enough force for the animal to stay in the air.
But the thing that's actually most -- so, what's fascinating is not so much that the wing has some interesting morphology.
What's clever is the way the fly flaps it, which of course ultimately is controlled by the nervous system, and this is what enables flies to perform these remarkable aerial maneuvers.
Now, what about the engine?
The engine of the fly is absolutely fascinating.
They have two types of flight muscle: so-called power muscle, which is stretch-activated, which means that it activates itself and does not need to be controlled on a contraction-by-contraction basis by the nervous system.
It's specialized to generate the enormous power required for flight, and it fills the middle portion of the fly, so when a fly hits your windshield, it's basically the power muscle that you're looking at.
But attached to the base of the wing is a set of little, tiny control muscles that are not very powerful at all, but they're very fast, and they're able to reconfigure the hinge of the wing on a stroke-by-stroke basis, and this is what enables the fly to change its wing and generate the changes in aerodynamic forces which change its flight trajectory.
And of course, the role of the nervous system is to control all this.
So let's look at the controller.
Now flies excel in the sorts of sensors that they carry to this problem.
They have antennae that sense odors and detect wind detection.
They have a sophisticated eye which is the fastest visual system on the planet.
They have another set of eyes on the top of their head.
We have no idea what they do.
They have sensors on their wing.
Their wing is covered with sensors, including sensors that sense deformation of the wing.
They can even taste with their wings.
One of the most sophisticated sensors a fly has is a structure called the halteres.
The halteres are actually gyroscopes.
These devices beat back and forth about 200 hertz during flight, and the animal can use them to sense its body rotation and initiate very, very fast corrective maneuvers.
But all of this sensory information has to be processed by a brain, and yes, indeed, flies have a brain, a brain of about 100,000 neurons.
Now several people at this conference have already suggested that fruit flies could serve neuroscience because they're a simple model of brain function.
And the basic punchline of my talk is, I'd like to turn that over on its head.
I don't think they're a simple model of anything.
And I think that flies are a great model.
They're a great model for flies.
And let's explore this notion of simplicity.
So I think, unfortunately, a lot of neuroscientists, we're all somewhat narcissistic.
When we think of brain, we of course imagine our own brain.
But remember that this kind of brain, which is much, much smaller â instead of 100 billion neurons, it has 100,000 neurons â but this is the most common form of brain on the planet and has been for 400 million years.
And is it fair to say that it's simple?
Well, it's simple in the sense that it has fewer neurons, but is that a fair metric?
And I would propose it's not a fair metric.
So let's sort of think about this. I think we have to compare -- â we have to compare the size of the brain with what the brain can do.
So I propose we have a Trump number, and the Trump number is the ratio of this man's behavioral repertoire to the number of neurons in his brain.
We'll calculate the Trump number for the fruit fly.
Now, how many people here think the Trump number is higher for the fruit fly?
It's a very smart, smart audience.
Now I realize that it is a little bit absurd to compare the behavioral repertoire of a human to a fly.
But let's take another animal just as an example. Here's a mouse.
A mouse has about 1,000 times as many neurons as a fly.
I used to study mice. When I studied mice, I used to talk really slowly.
And then something happened when I started to work on flies.
And I think if you compare the natural history of flies and mice, it's really comparable. They have to forage for food.
They have to engage in courtship.
They have sex. They hide from predators.
They do a lot of the similar things.
But I would argue that flies do more.
So for example, I'm going to show you a sequence, and I have to say, some of my funding comes from the military, so I'm showing this classified sequence and you cannot discuss it outside of this room. Okay?
So I want you to look at the payload at the tail of the fruit fly.
Watch it very closely, and you'll see why my six-year-old son now wants to be a neuroscientist.
Wait for it.
Pshhew.
So at least you'll admit that if fruit flies are not as clever as mice, they're at least as clever as pigeons. Now, I want to get across that it's not just a matter of numbers but also the challenge for a fly to compute everything its brain has to compute with such tiny neurons.
So this is a beautiful image of a visual interneuron from a mouse that came from Jeff Lichtman's lab, and you can see the wonderful images of brains that he showed in his talk.
at the same scale, a visual interneuron from a fly.
And I'll expand this up.
And it's a beautifully complex neuron.
It's just very, very tiny, and there's lots of biophysical challenges with trying to compute information with tiny, tiny neurons.
How small can neurons get? Well, look at this interesting insect.
It looks sort of like a fly. It has wings, it has eyes, it has antennae, its legs, complicated life history, it's a parasite, it has to fly around and find caterpillars but not only is its brain the size of a salt grain, which is comparable for a fruit fly, it is the size of a salt grain.
So here's some other organisms at the similar scale.
This animal is the size of a paramecium and an amoeba, and it has a brain of 7,000 neurons that's so small -- you know these things called cell bodies you've been hearing about, where the nucleus of the neuron is?
This animal gets rid of them because they take up too much space.
So this is a session on frontiers in neuroscience.
I would posit that one frontier in neuroscience is to figure out how the brain of that thing works.
But let's think about this. How can you make a small number of neurons do a lot?
And I think, from an engineering perspective, you think of multiplexing.
You can take a hardware and have that hardware do different things at different times, or have different parts of the hardware doing different things.
And these are the two concepts I'd like to explore.
And they're not concepts that I've come up with, but concepts that have been proposed by others in the past.
And one idea comes from lessons from chewing crabs.
And I don't mean chewing the crabs.
I grew up in Baltimore, and I chew crabs very, very well.
But I'm talking about the crabs actually doing the chewing.
Crab chewing is actually really fascinating.
Crabs have this complicated structure under their carapace called the gastric mill that grinds their food in a variety of different ways.
And here's an endoscopic movie of this structure.
The amazing thing about this is that it's controlled by a really tiny set of neurons, about two dozen neurons that can produce a vast variety of different motor patterns, and the reason it can do this is that this little tiny ganglion in the crab is actually inundated by many, many neuromodulators.
You heard about neuromodulators earlier.
There are more neuromodulators that alter, that innervate this structure than actually neurons in the structure, and they're able to generate a complicated set of patterns.
And this is the work by Eve Marder and her many colleagues who've been studying this fascinating system that show how a smaller cluster of neurons can do many, many, many things because of neuromodulation that can take place on a moment-by-moment basis.
So this is basically multiplexing in time.
Imagine a network of neurons with one neuromodulator.
You select one set of cells to perform one sort of behavior, another neuromodulator, another set of cells, a different pattern, and you can imagine you could extrapolate to a very, very complicated system.
Is there any evidence that flies do this?
Well, for many years in my laboratory and other laboratories around the world, we've been studying fly behaviors in little flight simulators.
You can tether a fly to a little stick.
You can measure the aerodynamic forces it's creating.
You can let the fly play a little video game by letting it fly around in a visual display.
So let me show you a little tiny sequence of this.
Here's a fly and a large infrared view of the fly in the flight simulator, and this is a game the flies love to play.
You allow them to steer towards the little stripe, and they'll just steer towards that stripe forever.
It's part of their visual guidance system.
But very, very recently, it's been possible to modify these sorts of behavioral arenas for physiologies.
So this is the preparation that one of my former post-docs, Gaby Maimon, who's now at Rockefeller, developed, and it's basically a flight simulator but under conditions where you actually can stick an electrode in the brain of the fly and record from a genetically identified neuron in the fly's brain.
And this is what one of these experiments looks like.
It was a sequence taken from another post-doc in the lab, Bettina Schnell.
The green trace at the bottom is the membrane potential of a neuron in the fly's brain, and you'll see the fly start to fly, and the fly is actually controlling the rotation of that visual pattern itself by its own wing motion, and you can see this visual interneuron respond to the pattern of wing motion as the fly flies.
So for the first time we've actually been able to record from neurons in the fly's brain while the fly is performing sophisticated behaviors such as flight.
And one of the lessons we've been learning is that the physiology of cells that we've been studying for many years in quiescent flies is not the same as the physiology of those cells when the flies actually engage in active behaviors like flying and walking and so forth.
And why is the physiology different?
Well it turns out it's these neuromodulators, just like the neuromodulators in that little tiny ganglion in the crabs.
So here's a picture of the octopamine system.
Octopamine is a neuromodulator that seems to play an important role in flight and other behaviors.
But this is just one of many neuromodulators that's in the fly's brain.
So I really think that, as we learn more, it's going to turn out that the whole fly brain is just like a large version of this stomatogastric ganglion, and that's one of the reasons why it can do so much with so few neurons.
Now, another idea, another way of multiplexing is multiplexing in space, having different parts of a neuron do different things at the same time.
So here's two sort of canonical neurons from a vertebrate and an invertebrate, a human pyramidal neuron from Ramon y Cajal, and another cell to the right, a non-spiking interneuron, and this is the work of Alan Watson and Malcolm Burrows many years ago, and Malcolm Burrows came up with a pretty interesting idea based on the fact that this neuron from a locust does not fire action potentials.
It's a non-spiking cell.
So a typical cell, like the neurons in our brain, has a region called the dendrites that receives input, and that input sums together and will produce action potentials that run down the axon and then activate all the output regions of the neuron.
But non-spiking neurons are actually quite complicated because they can have input synapses and output synapses all interdigitated, and there's no single action potential that drives all the outputs at the same time.
So there's a possibility that you have computational compartments that allow the different parts of the neuron to do different things at the same time.
So these basic concepts of multitasking in time and multitasking in space, I think these are things that are true in our brains as well, but I think the insects are the true masters of this.
So I hope you think of insects a little bit differently next time, and as I say up here, please think before you swat. | {
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ããããšã ã¿ãªããããããšã | I'm from Australia. I'm here to help.
Tonight, I want to talk about a tale of two cities.
One of those cities is called Washington, and the other is called Beijing.
Because how these two capitals shape their future and the future of the United States and the future of China doesn't just affect those two countries, it affects all of us in ways, perhaps, we've never thought of: the air we breathe, the water we drink, the fish we eat, the quality of our oceans, the languages we speak in the future, the jobs we have, the political systems we choose,
and, of course, the great questions of war and peace.
You see that bloke? He's French.
His name is Napoleon.
A couple of hundred years ago, he made this extraordinary projection: "China is a sleeping lion, and when she awakes, the world will shake."
Napoleon got a few things wrong; he got this one absolutely right.
Because China is today not just woken up, China has stood up and China is on the march, and the question for us all is where will China go and how do we engage this giant of the 21st century?
You start looking at the numbers, they start to confront you in a big way.
It's projected that China will become, by whichever measure -- PPP, market exchange rates -- the largest economy in the world over the course of the decade ahead.
They're already the largest trading nation, already the largest exporting nation, already the largest manufacturing nation, and they're also the biggest emitters of carbon in the world.
America comes second.
So if China does become the world's largest economy, think about this: It'll be the first time since this guy was on the throne of England -- George III, not a good friend of Napoleon's -- that in the world we will have as the largest economy a non-English speaking country, a non-Western country, a non-liberal democratic country.
And if you don't think that's going to affect the way in which the world happens in the future, then personally, I think you've been smoking something, and it doesn't mean you're from Colorado.
So in short, the question we have tonight is, how do we understand this mega-change, which I believe to be the biggest change for the first half of the 21st century?
It'll affect so many things.
It will go to the absolute core.
It's happening quietly. It's happening persistently.
It's happening in some senses under the radar, as we are all preoccupied with what's going in Ukraine, what's going on in the Middle East, what's going on with ISIS, what's going on with ISIL, what's happening with the future of our economies.
This is a slow and quiet revolution.
And with a mega-change comes also a mega-challenge, and the mega-challenge is this: Can these two great countries, China and the United States -- China, the Middle Kingdom, and the United States, MÄiguó -- which in Chinese, by the way, means "the beautiful country."
Think about that -- that's the name that China has given this country for more than a hundred years.
Whether these two great civilizations, these two great countries, for themselves and for the world?
In short, can we carve out a future which is peaceful and mutually prosperous, or are we looking at a great challenge of war or peace?
And I have 15 minutes to work through war or peace, than they gave this guy to write a book called "War and Peace."
People ask me, why is it that a kid growing up in rural Australia got interested in learning Chinese?
Well, there are two reasons for that.
Here's the first of them.
That's Betsy the cow.
Now, Betsy the cow was one of a herd of dairy cattle that I grew up with on a farm in rural Australia.
See those hands there? These are not built for farming.
So very early on, I discovered that in fact, working in a farm was not designed for me, and China was a very safe remove from any career in Australian farm life.
Here's the second reason.
That's my mom.
Anyone here ever listen to what their mom told them to do?
Everyone ever do what their mom told them to do?
I rarely did, but what my mom said to me was, one day, she handed me a newspaper, a headline which said, here we have a huge change.
And that change is China entering the United Nations.
1971, I had just turned 14 years of age, and she handed me this headline.
And she said, "Understand this, learn this, because it's going to affect your future."
So being a very good student of history, I decided that the best thing for me to do was, in fact, to go off and learn Chinese.
The great thing about learning Chinese is that your Chinese teacher gives you a new name.
And so they gave me this name: KÚ, which means to overcome or to conquer, and Wén, and that's the character for literature or the arts.
KÚ Wén, Conqueror of the Classics.
Any of you guys called "Kevin"?
It's a major lift from being called Kevin to be called Conqueror of the Classics.
I've been called Kevin all my life.
Have you been called Kevin all your life?
Would you prefer to be called Conqueror of the Classics?
And so I went off after that and joined the Australian Foreign Service, but here is where pride -- before pride, there always comes a fall.
So there I am in the embassy in Beijing, off to the Great Hall of the People with our ambassador, who had asked me to interpret for his first meeting in the Great Hall of the People.
And so there was I.
If you've been to a Chinese meeting, it's a giant horseshoe.
At the head of the horsehoe are the really serious pooh-bahs, and down the end of the horseshoe are the not-so-serious pooh-bahs, the junior woodchucks like me.
And so the ambassador began with this inelegant phrase.
He said, "China and Australia are currently enjoying a relationship of unprecedented closeness."
And I thought to myself, "That sounds clumsy. That sounds odd.
I will improve it."
Note to file: Never do that.
It needed to be a little more elegant, a little more classical, so I rendered it as follows.
There was a big pause on the other side of the room.
You could see the giant pooh-bahs at the head of the horseshoe, the blood visibly draining from their faces, and the junior woodchucks at the other end of the horseshoe engaged in peals of unrestrained laughter.
Because when I rendered his sentence, "Australia and China are enjoying a relationship of unprecedented closeness," in fact, what I said was that Australia and China were now experiencing fantastic orgasm.
That was the last time I was asked to interpret.
But in that little story, there's a wisdom, which is, as soon as you think you know something about this extraordinary civilization of 5,000 years of continuing history, there's always something new to learn.
History is against us when it comes to the U.S. and China forging a common future together.
This guy up here?
He's not Chinese and he's not American.
He's Greek. His name's Thucydides.
He wrote the history of the Peloponnesian Wars.
And he made this extraordinary observation about Athens and Sparta.
"It was the rise of Athens and the fear that this inspired in Sparta that made war inevitable." And hence, a whole literature about something called the Thucydides Trap.
This guy here? He's not American and he's not Greek. He's Chinese.
His name is Sun Tzu. He wrote "The Art of War," and if you see his statement underneath, it's along these lines: "Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected."
Not looking good so far for China and the United States.
This guy is an American. His name's Graham Allison.
In fact, he's a teacher at the Kennedy School He's working on a single project at the moment, which is, does the Thucydides Trap about the inevitably of war between rising powers and established great powers apply to the future of China-U.S. relations?
It's a core question.
And what Graham has done is explore 15 cases in history since the 1500s to establish what the precedents are.
And in 11 out of 15 of them, they've ended in catastrophic war.
You may say, "But Kevin -- or Conqueror of the Classics -- that was the past.
We live now in a world of interdependence and globalization.
It could never happen again."
Guess what?
The economic historians tell us that in fact, the time which we reached the greatest point of economic integration and globalization was in 1914, just before that happened, World War I, a sobering reflection from history.
So if we are engaged in this great question of how China thinks, feels, and positions itself towards the United States, how do we get to the baseline of how these two countries and civilizations can possibly work together?
Let me first go to, in fact, China's views of the U.S. and the rest of the West.
Number one: China feels as if it's been humiliated at the hands of the West through a hundred years of history, beginning with the Opium Wars. When after that, the Western powers carved China up into little pieces, so that by the time it got to the '20s and '30s, signs like this one appeared on the streets of Shanghai.
["No dogs and Chinese allowed"] How would you feel if you were Chinese, in your own country, if you saw that sign appear? China also believes and feels as if, in the events of 1919, at the Peace Conference in Paris, when Germany's colonies were given back to all sorts of countries around in the world, what about German colonies in China?
They were, in fact, given to Japan.
When Japan then invaded China in the 1930s the world looked away and was indifferent to what would happen to China.
And then, on top of that, the Chinese to this day believe that the United States and the West do not accept the legitimacy of their political system because it's so radically different from those of us who come from liberal democracies, and believe that the United States to this day is seeking to undermine their political system.
China also believes that it is being contained by U.S. allies and by those with strategic partnerships with the U.S.
right around its periphery.
And beyond all that, the Chinese have this feeling in their heart of hearts and in their gut of guts that those of us in the collective West are just too damned arrogant.
That is, we don't recognize the problems in our own system, in our politics and our economics, and are very quick to point the finger elsewhere, and believe that, in fact, we in the collective West are guilty of a great bunch of hypocrisy.
Of course, in international relations, it's not just the sound of one hand clapping.
There's another country too, and that's called the U.S.
So how does the U.S. respond to all of the above?
The U.S. has a response to each of those.
On the question of is the U.S. containing China, they say, "No, look at the history of the Soviet Union. That was containment."
Instead, what we have done in the U.S. and the West is welcome China into the global economy, and on top of that, welcome them into the World Trade Organization.
The U.S. and the West say China cheats on the question of intellectual property rights, and through cyberattacks on U.S. and global firms.
Furthermore, the United States says that the Chinese political system is fundamentally wrong because it's at such fundamental variance to the human rights, democracy, and rule of law that we enjoy in the U.S. and the collective West.
And on top of all the above, what does the United States say?
That they fear that China will, when it has sufficient power, establish a sphere of influence in Southeast Asia and wider East Asia, boot the United States out, and in time, when it's powerful enough, unilaterally seek to change the rules of the global order.
So apart from all of that, it's just fine and dandy, the U.S.-China relationship.
No real problems there.
The challenge, though, is given those deep-rooted feelings, those deep-rooted emotions and thought patterns, what the Chinese call "Sīwéi," ways of thinking, how can we craft a basis for a common future between these two?
I argue simply this: We can do it on the basis on a framework of constructive realism for a common purpose.
What do I mean by that?
Be realistic about the things that we disagree on, and a management approach that doesn't enable any one of those differences to break into war or conflict until we've acquired the diplomatic skills to solve them.
Be constructive in areas of the bilateral, regional and global engagement between the two, which will make a difference for all of humankind.
Build a regional institution capable of cooperation in Asia, an Asia-Pacific community. And worldwide, act further, like you've begun to do at the end of last year by striking out against climate change with hands joined together rather than fists apart.
Of course, all that happens if you've got a common mechanism and political will to achieve the above.
These things are deliverable.
But the question is, are they deliverable alone?
This is what our head tells us we need to do, but what about our heart?
I have a little experience in the question back home of how you try to bring together two peoples who, frankly, haven't had a whole lot in common in the past.
And that's when I apologized to Australia's indigenous peoples.
This was a day of reckoning in the Australian government, the Australian parliament, and for the Australian people.
After 200 years of unbridled abuse towards the first Australians, it was high time that we white folks said we were sorry.
The important thing -- The important thing that I remember is staring in the faces of all those from Aboriginal Australia as they came to listen to this apology.
It was extraordinary to see, for example, old women telling me the stories of when they were five years old and literally ripped away from their parents, like this lady here.
It was extraordinary for me to then be able to embrace and to kiss Aboriginal elders as they came into the parliament building, and one woman said to me, it's the first time a white fella had ever kissed her in her life, and she was over 70.
That's a terrible story.
And then I remember this family saying to me, "You know, we drove all the way from the far North down to Canberra to come to this thing, drove our way through redneck country.
On the way back, stopped at a cafe after the apology for a milkshake."
And they walked into this cafe quietly, tentatively, gingerly, a little anxious.
I think you know what I'm talking about.
But the day after the apology, what happened?
Everyone in that cafe, every one of the white folks, stood up and applauded.
Something had happened in the hearts of these people in Australia.
The white folks, our Aboriginal brothers and sisters, and we haven't solved all these problems together, but let me tell you, there was a new beginning because we had gone not just to the head, we'd gone also to the heart.
So where does that conclude in terms of the great question that we've been asked to address this evening, which is the future of U.S.-China relations?
The head says there's a way forward.
The head says there is a policy framework, there's a common narrative, there's a mechanism through regular summitry to do these things and to make them better.
But the heart must also find a way to reimagine the possibilities of the America-China relationship, and the possibilities of China's future engagement in the world.
Sometimes, folks, we just need to take a leap of faith not quite knowing where we might land.
In China, they now talk about the Chinese Dream.
In America, we're all familiar with the term "the American Dream."
I think it's time, across the world, that we're able to think also of something we might also call a dream for all humankind.
Because if we do that, we might just change the way that we think about each other.
[In Chinese] That's my challenge to America. That's my challenge to China.
That's my challenge to all of us, but I think where there's a will and where there is imagination we can turn this into a future driven by peace and prosperity and not once again repeat the tragedies of war.
I thank you.
Chris Anderson: Thanks so much for that. Thanks so much for that.
It feels like you yourself have a role to play in this bridging.
You, in a way, are uniquely placed to speak to both sides.
Kevin Rudd: Well, what we Australians do best is organize the drinks, so you get them together in one room, and we suggest this and suggest that, then we go and get the drinks.
But no, look, for all of us who are friends of these two great countries, America and China, you can do something.
You can make a practical contribution, and for all you good folks here, next time you meet someone from China, sit down and have a conversation.
See what you can find out about where they come from and what they think, and my challenge for all the Chinese folks who are going to watch this TED Talk at some time is do the same.
Two of us seeking to change the world can actually make a huge difference.
Those of us up the middle, we can make a small contribution.
CA: Kevin, all power to you, my friend. Thank you.
KR: Thank you. Thank you, folks. | {
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ããããšãããããŸã(ææ) (ææ) | His name is Nostradamus, although here the Sun have made him look a little bit like Sean Connery. And like most of you, I suspect, I don't really believe that people can see into the future.
I don't believe in precognition, and every now and then, you hear that somebody has been able to predict something that happened in the future, and that's probably because it was a fluke, and we only hear about the flukes and about the freaks.
We don't hear about all the times that people got stuff wrong.
Now we expect that to happen with silly stories about precognition, but the problem is, we have exactly the same problem in academia and in medicine, and in this environment, it costs lives.
So firstly, thinking just about precognition, as it turns out, just last year a researcher called Daryl Bem conducted a piece of research where he found evidence of precognitive powers in undergraduate students, and this was published in a peer-reviewed academic journal and most of the people who read this just said, "Okay, well, fair enough, but I think that's a fluke, that's a freak, because I know that if I did a study where I found no evidence
it probably wouldn't get published in a journal.
And in fact, we know that that's true, because several different groups of research scientists tried to replicate the findings of this precognition study, and when they submitted it to the exact same journal, the journal said, "No, we're not interested in publishing replication. We're not interested in your negative data."
So this is already evidence of how, in the academic literature, we will see a biased sample of the true picture of all of the scientific studies that have been conducted.
But it doesn't just happen in the dry academic field of psychology.
It also happens in, for example, cancer research.
So in March, 2012, just one month ago, some researchers reported in the journal Nature how they had tried to replicate 53 different basic science studies looking at potential treatment targets in cancer, and out of those 53 studies, they were only able to successfully replicate six.
Forty-seven out of those 53 were unreplicable.
And they say in their discussion that this is very likely because freaks get published.
People will do lots and lots and lots of different studies, and the occasions when it works they will publish, and the ones where it doesn't work they won't.
And their first recommendation of how to fix this problem, because it is a problem, because it sends us all down blind alleys, their first recommendation of how to fix this problem is to make it easier to publish negative results in science, and to change the incentives so that scientists are encouraged to post more of their negative results in public.
But it doesn't just happen in the very dry world of preclinical basic science cancer research.
It also happens in the very real, flesh and blood of academic medicine. So in 1980, some researchers did a study on a drug called lorcainide, and this was an anti-arrhythmic drug, a drug that suppresses abnormal heart rhythms, and the idea was, after people have had a heart attack, they're quite likely to have abnormal heart rhythms, so if we give them a drug that suppresses abnormal heart rhythms, this will increase the chances of them surviving.
Early on its development, they did a very small trial, just under a hundred patients.
Fifty patients got lorcainide, and of those patients, 10 died.
Another 50 patients got a dummy placebo sugar pill with no active ingredient, and only one of them died.
So they rightly regarded this drug as a failure, and its commercial development was stopped, and because its commercial development was stopped, this trial was never published.
Unfortunately, over the course of the next five, 10 years, other companies had the same idea about drugs that would prevent arrhythmias in people who have had heart attacks.
These drugs were brought to market. They were prescribed very widely because heart attacks are a very common thing, and it took so long for us to find out that these drugs also caused an increased rate of death that before we detected that safety signal, over 100,000 people died unnecessarily in America from the prescription of anti-arrhythmic drugs.
Now actually, in 1993, the researchers who did that 1980 study, that early study, published a mea culpa, an apology to the scientific community, in which they said, "When we carried out our study in 1980, we thought that the increased death rate that occurred in the lorcainide group was an effect of chance."
The development of lorcainide was abandoned for commercial reasons, and this study was never published; it's now a good example of publication bias.
That's the technical term for the phenomenon where unflattering data gets lost, gets unpublished, is left missing in action, and they say the results described here "might have provided an early warning of trouble ahead." Now these are stories from basic science.
These are stories from 20, 30 years ago.
The academic publishing environment is very different now.
There are academic journals like "Trials," the open access journal, which will publish any trial conducted in humans regardless of whether it has a positive or a negative result.
But this problem of negative results that go missing in action is still very prevalent. In fact it's so prevalent that it cuts to the core of evidence-based medicine.
So this is a drug called reboxetine, and this is a drug that I myself have prescribed. It's an antidepressant.
And I'm a very nerdy doctor, so I read all of the studies that I could on this drug. I read the one study that was published that showed that reboxetine was better than placebo, and I read the other three studies that were published that showed that reboxetine was just as good as any other antidepressant, and because this patient hadn't done well on those other antidepressants, I thought, well, reboxetine is just as good. It's one to try.
But it turned out that I was misled. In fact, seven trials were conducted comparing reboxetine against a dummy placebo sugar pill. One of them was positive and that was published, but six of them were negative and they were left unpublished.
Three trials were published comparing reboxetine against other antidepressants in which reboxetine was just as good, and they were published, but three times as many patients' worth of data was collected which showed that reboxetine was worse than those other treatments, and those trials were not published.
I felt misled.
Now you might say, well, that's an extremely unusual example, and I wouldn't want to be guilty of the same kind of cherry-picking and selective referencing that I'm accusing other people of.
But it turns out that this phenomenon of publication bias has actually been very, very well studied.
So here is one example of how you approach it.
The classic model is, you get a bunch of studies where you know that they've been conducted and completed, and then you go and see if they've been published anywhere in the academic literature. So this took all of the trials that had ever been conducted on antidepressants that were approved over a 15-year period by the FDA.
They took all of the trials which were submitted to the FDA as part of the approval package.
So that's not all of the trials that were ever conducted on these drugs, because we can never know if we have those, but it is the ones that were conducted in order to get the marketing authorization.
And then they went to see if these trials had been published in the peer-reviewed academic literature. And this is what they found.
It was pretty much a 50-50 split. Half of these trials were positive, half of them were negative, in reality.
But when they went to look for these trials in the peer-reviewed academic literature, what they found was a very different picture.
Only three of the negative trials were published, but all but one of the positive trials were published.
Now if we just flick back and forth between those two, you can see what a staggering difference there was between reality and what doctors, patients, commissioners of health services, and academics were able to see in the peer-reviewed academic literature. We were misled, and this is a systematic flaw in the core of medicine.
In fact, there have been so many studies conducted on publication bias now, over a hundred, that they've been collected in a systematic review, published in 2010, that took every single study on publication bias that they could find.
Publication bias affects every field of medicine.
About half of all trials, on average, go missing in action, and we know that positive findings are around twice as likely to be published as negative findings.
This is a cancer at the core of evidence-based medicine.
If I flipped a coin 100 times but then withheld the results from you from half of those tosses, I could make it look as if I had a coin that always came up heads.
But that wouldn't mean that I had a two-headed coin.
That would mean that I was a chancer and you were an idiot for letting me get away with it. But this is exactly what we blindly tolerate in the whole of evidence-based medicine.
And to me, this is research misconduct.
If I conducted one study and I withheld half of the data points from that one study, you would rightly accuse me, essentially, of research fraud.
And yet, for some reason, if somebody conducts 10 studies but only publishes the five that give the result that they want, we don't consider that to be research misconduct.
And when that responsibility is diffused between a whole network of researchers, academics, industry sponsors, journal editors, for some reason we find it more acceptable, but the effect on patients is damning.
And this is happening right now, today.
This is a drug called Tamiflu. Tamiflu is a drug which governments around the world have spent billions and billions of dollars on stockpiling, and we've stockpiled Tamiflu in panic, in the belief that it will reduce the rate of complications of influenza.
Complications is a medical euphemism for pneumonia and death. Now when the Cochrane systematic reviewers were trying to collect together all of the data from all of the trials that had ever been conducted on whether Tamiflu actually did this or not, they found that several of those trials were unpublished.
The results were unavailable to them.
And when they started obtaining the writeups of those trials through various different means, through Freedom of Information Act requests, through harassing various different organizations, what they found was inconsistent.
And when they tried to get a hold of the clinical study reports, the 10,000-page long documents that have the best possible rendition of the information, they were told they weren't allowed to have them.
And if you want to read the full correspondence and the excuses and the explanations given by the drug company, you can see that written up in this week's edition of PLOS Medicine.
And the most staggering thing of all of this, to me, is that not only is this a problem, not only do we recognize that this is a problem, but we've had to suffer fake fixes.
We've had people pretend that this is a problem that's been fixed.
First of all, we had trials registers, and everybody said, oh, it's okay. We'll get everyone to register their trials, they'll post the protocol, they'll say what they're going to do before they do it, and then afterwards we'll be able to check and see if all the trials which have been conducted and completed have been published.
But people didn't bother to use those registers.
And so then the International Committee of Medical Journal Editors came along, and they said, oh, well, we will hold the line.
We won't publish any journals, we won't publish any trials, unless they've been registered before they began.
But they didn't hold the line. In 2008, a study was conducted which showed that half of all of trials published by journals edited by members of the ICMJE weren't properly registered, and a quarter of them weren't registered at all.
And then finally, the FDA Amendment Act was passed a couple of years ago saying that everybody who conducts a trial must post the results of that trial within one year.
And in the BMJ, in the first edition of January, 2012, you can see a study which looks to see if people kept to that ruling, and it turns out that only one in five have done so.
This is a disaster.
We cannot know the true effects of the medicines that we prescribe if we do not have access to all of the information.
And this is not a difficult problem to fix.
We need to force people to publish all trials conducted in humans, including the older trials, because the FDA Amendment Act only asks that you publish the trials conducted after 2008, and I don't know what world it is in which we're only practicing medicine on the basis of trials that completed in the past two years.
We need to publish all trials in humans, including the older trials, for all drugs in current use, and you need to tell everyone you know that this is a problem and that it has not been fixed.
Thank you very much. | {
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ã¯ãŠã§ãŒãã§ã¯ãã€ãå
æ¥ã1961幎ã®ç¬ç«ä»¥æ¥11åç®ã®è°äŒéžæãè¡ããããã¯ãŠã§ãŒãã¯åäž»å¶ã§ããããè°äŒã®æŽå²ã¯ç©ãããªãã®ã§ã¯ãªããç家ãšéžææ°ã»ã°ã¡ã³ããšã®éã«é²è¡äžã®ç·åŒµé¢ä¿ããä»åã®éžæéåã«åæ ããã | Kuwait has just held its eleventh parliamentary election since independence in 1961. Though Kuwait is a monarchy, its parliamentary history has not been placid, and the election campaign reflected ongoing tensions between the royal family and segments of the electorate. | {
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ç®ããã§ããã§ããããŠããã¡ã€ãªã¢ã¹ãç¡çããä¹ããã€ãªã¢ã¯ç©ºãé§ãããåŸãã®ã¡ã€ãªã¢ã¹ã®èžã俺ã®èäžã«åœããããããããªãã家ã«åž°ã£ãã®ã¯ããã€ã·ã§ã®è©±ã§ããã | ãNothing good ever comes from these guys! These guys are soldiers of Princess Ricolette. What are they even thinking!?ã[]
The owner of Miraya, Akima, was fuming with anger. The soldiers quickly occupied the stage and started talking about something with the slave traders. There were a few customers left, but the auction was completely disrupted. Akima showed her intention to return home. I decided to accompany her and headed outside together with Peris.
ãMaster, what was this event all about?ã
ãAh, Peris might not know it. It is a place for buying and selling of slavesã
ãSlaves?ã
ãIt is about buying people with money. The slaves have to listen to their buyers no matter whatã
ãAre they treated as goods? I thought that those, who were bought, were going to be released ã
ãHo, an interesting opinion. I want this girl to teach some things to my girls! ã
Akima teased Peris and laughed. Once we went outside, a man from the slave traderâs side approached me.
ãIâm sorry for the inconvenience. Dear guest, I will hand over your slave immediatelyã
Apparently, the slave traders will be penalized for opening the slave market, it ended up without anyone being harmed. I bid farewell to Akima and followed the man. We arrived in a room in the hotel.
After a while, a nice looking man came into the room.
ãThank you for coming. It might be too hasty, but letâs finalize the purchase right away. The money.......yes, that is enough. Letâs proceed to the slave contract. Oi, bring her over here! ã
The sheep beastwoman was brought inside. Unlike the previous time, she was wearing a one-piece clothing. Previously, they wanted to display her bodyline to the audience. However, her appearance before my eyes was truly mesmerizing.
ãI apologize, but can I receive a drop of your blood?ã
Un? Blood? I do not remember anything like that when Elsa-sama bought me.
ãIsnât the slave contract done through a spell?ã
ãIn the case of a crime slave, there is a need to bind it using blood. If you complete the blood contract, the slave wonât be able to resist you in any way. After all, the crime slaves couldnât be given any freedom. It is enforced by the law so I ask you for your understandingã
The handling of the crime slaves is a difficult matter.
ãWhen it comes to the blood, you can use this magic tool. Put your finger on it, and it will suck out your blood by itself. It wonât be painful and wonât leave any woundsã
I put my fingertip on the glass rod. The rod quickly sucked out my blood. The slave trader received my blood and dropped it on the palm of her hand while casting some kind of spell. Her hand glowed.
ãWith this, the slave contract is completeã
ãHow do you cancel the contract? What will happen to her if I die? ã
ãBecause it is a blood contract, the slave will die together with the owner. If you donât like it, you should be able to cancel it in the slave store nearby. Please, do not hesitate to contact us if you need anythingã
ãUnderstood. There should also be a method to release a slave. How is it done? ã
ãWe do not hear about releasing the crime slaves too often, but if you want to, you need to get the permission from a priest.ã
ãPriest?ã
ãCorrect. To release a crime slave, you need to prove to the priest that he atoned for his crimes. However, you need a lot of money, and it is not guaranteed that the priest will be convinced of his atonementã
In others words, once you become a crime slave, it is almost impossible to regain your freedom. What did this beastwoman do?
ãI heard that she poisoned a village. If you look at her casual attitude, you should understand what kind of person she is. Please, be careful with herã
Saying his piece, the slave trader left the room. The sheep girl, who was left behind, approached me and kneeled.
ãThank you for purchasing me. I will be serving you with my utmost effort from now on. Feel free to order whatever you wantã
ãU~n, for now, how about leaving this place? My name is Rinos. What it your name? ã
ã......I donât have one. I would be happy if Master could give me a nameã
ãNo, you should have a name, which you used before. What was your name before? ã
ã......Meriasã
ãThen, I will call you Merias, are you fine with this?ã
ãThank youã
ãAll right, Merias. I know that it is sudden, but we are hungry. We didnât have the chance to eat lunch yet. Ah, her name is Peris. Our chef. Did Merias eat her lunch? ã
ã.......No, not yetã
ãThen it is decided, letâs eat lunch. Is beef stew all right with you? ã
ãLetâs go!ã
Merias followed after me and Peris. When we went outside, the soldiers were still running around. While I was silently praising their diligence, I heard an unexpected voice directed at me.
ãRinos-dono, so you wanted a slave tooã
Princess Ricolette showed her face from the carriageâs window.
ãThe soldiers stormed the slave market some time ago. Was this your order? ã
ãYes, people shouldnât sell each other in the openã
ãI agree. It would have been nice if people stopped trying to buy each other with moneyã
ãAre you really saying this? Didnât you buy the beastwoman behind you? Donât you think that you arenât qualified to say these things? ã
ãMaybe I am. In truth, I thought about releasing her from the crime slavery. But it seems that the procedures are too difficultã
ãRelease a crime slave? How ridiculous.......ã
ãI agree with Ricolette-sama. The life of a slave is full of uncertainties. The kids shouldnât taste this feeling. I may not be qualified to say this, but I do think soã
ãYouâre just.......ã
ãIâm a former slave myselfã
Princess Ricolette frowned for a moment. Perhaps, I shouldnât have said it. Well, I will solve the problems when they actually appear. I took the two with me, as I distanced myself from this place. Soon enough, we arrived at the hotel with delicious beef stew and entered the restaurant.
ãIsnât it Rinos-sama? Iâm glad to see you here againã
ãToday, I brought my chef and a newcomer with meã
ãIsnât it Peris-sama, welcome. The newcomer is.....! Rinos-sama, this person........ã
ãA new addition to our householdã
ãU-Understood. Please, this way......ã
The always-polite boy became agitated. Ah, Meriasâ curse is affecting him. Letâs cast a barrier to isolate this influence for now.
We were guided to our seats. However, Merias didnât sit down and stood behind me.
ãHow about sitting down? Feel free to order whatever you like. Beef stew in this place is wonderful! ã
ãTo-To dine on the same table as Master is inappropriate!ã
ãI donât mind. I canât calm down with you standing here. For now, just sit. This is an order. Also, do you have anything you want to eat? The things you dislike? Nothing? Are you fine having the same as me? Then, three beef stews with salad, and three omelets pleaseã
Very soon, the dished were delivered to our table.
ãAll right, letâs eat. Peris, you are free to steal the tasteã
ãLeave it to me!ã
Peris started eating while muttering the names of ingredients from time to time. Merias too unintentionally mutteredãAh, deliciousã. It seems that she liked it.
ãAll right then, Merias. Actually, I intended to release you from slavery, but it seems rather difficult so you will be staying with us for quite a while. I will look after you, but I want you to promise me one thing firstã
Yes! She stopped eating and stood up as if she was a rocket.
ãNo, you can sit. Listen to me while eating. Itâs not that big of a matter. First, do not ever lie to me. If something is too difficult, I want you to tell me. If you donât like something, I want you to tell me. Second, my secrets should remain as secrets. The slave contract took care of it, I guess. However, I want you to keep it even after you obtain your freedom. Third, the last one, take care of yourself more. Your sad face makes me sad a well. I want you to be as happy as possible. Of course, there is no need to force yourselfã
Yes.......she nodded like a pigeon pecking its food.
Having finished the beef stew, we left the hotel and headed to my store. There, we were joined by Irimo, who was already waiting for us.
ãIrimo, she is our new companion starting from today, Merias. This horse is Irimo. Take care of each other in the futureã
B-Best regards. Nervously greeted Merias. We left the city, and after confirming everyoneâs presence
ãMerias, Iâm going to reveal you some of our secrets. You should never talk about itã
I said that and revealed Perisâ and Irimoâs appearance.
ãBe-Belial!? Unicorn pegasus!?ã
ãPeris can fly by herself. Merias should mount Irimo. Hold on tightã
I forced Merias, whose eyes were spinning, to sit behind me on Irimo, and she flew into the sky. The feeling of her breasts against my back made my heart race, but letâs keep it a secret. | {
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ãããŠã誰ããããªããšããã£ãã®ãã¯ç¥ããªããããããšãæããŠãããã | âI-Iâll go inform Kozo ojii-san!â
âIâll have the temple priest come here, too! This isnât a laughing matter!â
Leaving these words, the elf woman and the lizardman guy dashed out of the house.
From their reactions, it would appear that the situation was unpredictable indeed and that the magic being employed on Rioâs mother might be regarded as unpardonable.
âPumpkin-san...â
âIâm an apprentice sorcerer. I can only do a limited number of things. But I will do what can be done. Though I canât promise you that things will go well.â
After saying so and rubbing Rioâs head, which was grasping at the cuff of his cloak, Pumpkin brought out cherry blossom petals he had picked up on the way to Kunukihappy from within his cloak.
âBarrier Cherry...?â
âI suppose thatâs what itâs called, huh?â
Once reminding himself of the magic power color of the petals clad in the barrier cherry, and preparing to shift the color of his own magic power by positioning the vines in his cloak, Pumpkin slowly began to channel his magic power while watching the response of the barrier cherry petal.
While applying the magic power, he also recalled the image of a barrier for protecting Rioâs mother from the evil ones. Furthermore, he also conjured up the image of the black magic power that was about to flow into Rioâs mother and repel it.
âGo...â
The attributes of magic power, chanting, tools, and other factors all played a role in magic. There would be no doubt about that.
But that did not mean that magic always displayed the same effect.
In the same way that the strength of the effect of the [Resonance Magicã»Sleep Cloud] was changed by processing the Sleep Cloud that served as the catalyst, it should be possible to modify the range of its effect depending on the strength of the practitionerâs image and thoughts.
For this reason, this magic will inevitably succeed.
With his declaration, the cherry blossom petals fluttered from his hand, passing along the walls of the house and scattering to the surroundings.
Simultaneously, a thin cherry blossom-colored barrier of magic was created with the petals as the boundary line, preventing black magic from penetrating inside the boundary.
It was apparently a success. With this, Rioâs motherâs condition would be prevented from getting any worse until [Resonance Spellã»Barrier Cherry] was deactivated.
Rioâs motherâs complexion seemed to be getting better, even if it was only slightly.
âPumpkin-san, this is...â
âRio, you should keep holding your motherâs hand.â
But this will not resolve the underlying problem. In fact, it was not even a temporary measure. After all, if the magic was about to wear off, that would be the end of it, and Rioâs motherâs condition was still too unforeseeable.
That would mean that any further measures should be left to the hands of experts, but Pumpkin will attempt a few things within his current capabilities at a level that wonât impose a burden on Rioâs mother.
âUgh...â
âMother...â
Pumpkin put his hand on Rioâs hand which was holding her motherâs hand, and touched Rioâs mother directly with one of the vines in a position that Rio could not see, and looked at her carefully in that state.
As expected, Rio and her mother have similar magic power colors, given that they are mother and daughter.
Furthermore, a closer observation revealed that the magic power from Rio to Rioâs mother was flowing, albeit slightly, and that Rioâs motherâs magic power was gradually becoming healthier.
This was likely the most primitive magic called prayer.
If so, I will work in the direction of helping her.
Through the filter called âRio,â Pumpkin channeled the magic power of a color as similar as possible to the magic power of Rioâs mother into her. In the same way as sucking blood, he selected and sucked out as much black magic as he could from Rioâs motherâs magic, and concentrated the sucked black magic into his own leaf that was ready for self-amputation.
In a manner of speaking, this was a transfusion of magical power or dialysis. After absorbing the contaminated magic power, the healthy magic power will be given to Rioâs mother in the same amount that was absorbed.
Since magic power represented the power of life for living things, it was out of the question to absorb too much of it, but considering [Overburst], it was probably not advisable to provide too much magic power, either.
Therefore, Pumpkin will exchange the magic power of Rioâs mother with the utmost care.
âThis is...â
â...â
âPhew.â
After a while, Rioâs motherâs complexion finally showed a noticeable improvement. It would be fine if she did not experience the black magic again after this point.
âU-Um, Pumpkin-san!â
âI know you have a lot to say, but this isnât over yet.â
âWhat?â
However, things werenât finished yet.
Pumpkin looked at the barrier.
What was present there was a mass of black magic power that had been blocked by the barrier and was now stagnant.
If all of these flowed into Rioâs mother at once, her weakened body would definitely fail to withstand it, and on the contrary, she might be worse off than she was at the beginning. Or rather, she would be dead beyond any doubt.
That was why it was not over yet. Unless this black magic power was dealt with, it would not be the end.
âRio. Let me have a piece of your motherâs hair.â
âWhat? Pumpkin-san, what are you... ah!â
Before seizing a strand of hair that was stunning despite Rioâs motherâs weakened appearance, and cutting it off with the reinforced vine, Pumpkin muttered to himself, âIâm sorry, but please forgive me because itâs for her own good.â
Even though he had no idea how similar this magic was to the curse in his previous life, it would be safe to assume that there was some way to recognize Rioâs mother as the target if the magic was this powerful and precise.
That was why he decided to use it against her.
âHuh? Why is Pumpkin-san...â
When he cut off the leaf that became pitch black due to the accumulation of black magic, Pumpkin created magic power that resembled Rioâs motherâs magic power and made it wrap around Rioâs motherâs hair.
The leaf he had ripped off on his own was then placed outside the barrier after being wrapped in Rioâs motherâs hair.
âHieee!?â
âAlright.â
The black magic power that can be seen even if not with his own eyes flooded into the outside of the barrier, and became like a black sphere.
Moreover, the black sphere was gradually increasing in size by incorporating the black magic power that followed it. In this situation, a barrier with a level of [Resonance Spellã»Barrier Cherry] used without proper research would probably be breached.
âRio. Stay with your mother.â
âEh? Pumpkin-san!?â
As he left Rio saying that, he went out of the house and confronted the mass of magic power head-on.
Even when viewed from the front, it still elicited a significant degree of malice. To be frank, it really sickened him.
âOh well. Now that Iâve come this far, I think I can handle it.â
However, irrespective of the chemical reaction, the source was his magic power. With his total magic power and control, Pumpkin would be able to handle it.
So he pressed the palm of his hand against the sphere.
Now, I donât know who did this, but let me teach you something. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 3,
"inserted_lines_src": 0,
"inserted_lines_trg": 1
} |
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èŽããããšãããããŸãã (ææ) | A father came out of his house to tell his teenage son and his five friends on the front lawn and on the sidewalk, to get home, finish their schoolwork, and prepare themselves for bed.
And as the father was administering these instructions, a car drove by, slowly, and just after it passed the father and the teenagers, a hand went out from the front passenger window, and -- "Bam, Bam!" -- killing the father.
And the car sped off.
The police, investigating officers, were amazingly efficient.
They considered all the usual culprits, and in less than 24 hours, they had selected their suspect: Francisco Carrillo, a 17-year-old kid who lived about two or three blocks away from where the shooting occurred.
They found photos of him. They prepared a photo array, and the day after the shooting, they showed it to one of the teenagers, and he said, "That's the picture.
That was all a preliminary hearing judge had to listen to, to bind Mr. Carrillo over to stand trial for a first-degree murder.
In the investigation that followed before the actual trial, each of the other five teenagers was shown photographs, the same photo array.
The picture that we best can determine was probably the one that they were shown in the photo array is in your bottom left hand corner of these mug shots.
The reason we're not sure absolutely is because of the nature of evidence preservation in our judicial system, but that's another whole TEDx talk for later. So at the actual trial, all six of the teenagers testified, and indicated the identifications they had made in the photo array.
He was convicted. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, and transported to Folsom Prison.
So what's wrong?
Straightforward, fair trial, full investigation.
Oh yes, no gun was ever found.
No vehicle was ever identified as being the one in which the shooter had extended his arm, and no person was ever charged with being the driver of the shooter's vehicle.
And Mr. Carrillo's alibi?
Which of those parents here in the room might not lie concerning the whereabouts of your son or daughter in an investigation of a killing?
Sent to prison, adamantly insisting on his innocence, which he has consistently for 21 years.
So what's the problem?
The problems, actually, for this kind of case come manyfold from decades of scientific research involving human memory.
from the Innocence Project work, where we know that we have, what, 250, 280 documented cases now where people have been wrongfully convicted and subsequently exonerated, some from death row, on the basis of later DNA analysis, and you know that over three quarters of all of those cases of exoneration involved only eyewitness identification testimony during the trial that convicted them.
We know that eyewitness identifications are fallible.
The other comes from an interesting aspect of human memory that's related to various brain functions but I can sum up for the sake of brevity here in a simple line: The brain abhors a vacuum.
Under the best of observation conditions, the absolute best, we only detect, encode and store in our brains bits and pieces of the entire experience in front of us, and they're stored in different parts of the brain.
we have an incomplete, we have a partial store, Below awareness, with no requirement for any kind of motivated processing, the brain fills in information that was not there, not originally stored, from inference, from speculation, from sources of information that came to you, as the observer, after the observation.
But it happens without awareness such that you don't, aren't even cognizant of it occurring.
It's called reconstructed memories.
It happens to us in all the aspects of our life, all the time.
It was those two considerations, among others -- reconstructed memory, the fact about the eyewitness fallibility -- that was part of the instigation for a group of appeal attorneys led by an amazing lawyer named Ellen Eggers and petition a superior court for a retrial for Francisco Carrillo.
They retained me, as a forensic neurophysiologist, because I had expertise in eyewitness memory identification, But also because I have expertise and testify about the nature of human night vision.
Well, what's that got to do with this?
Well, when you read through the case materials in this Carrillo case, one of the things that suddenly strikes you is that the investigating officers said the lighting was good at the crime scene, at the shooting.
All the teenagers testified during the trial that they could see very well.
But this occurred in mid-January, in the Northern Hemisphere, at 7 p.m. at night.
So when I did the calculations for the lunar data and the solar data at that location on Earth at the time of the incident of the shooting, all right, it was well past the end of civil twilight and there was no moon up that night.
So all the light in this area from the sun and the moon The only lighting in that area had to come from artificial sources, and that's where I go out and I do the actual reconstruction of the scene with photometers, with various measures of illumination and various other measures of color perception, along with special cameras and high-speed film, right?
Take all the measurements and record them, right?
And then take photographs, and this is what the scene looked like at the time of the shooting from the position of the teenagers looking at the car going by and shooting.
This is looking directly across the street from where they were standing.
Remember, the investigating officers' report said the lighting was good.
The teenagers said they could see very well.
This is looking down to the east, where the shooting vehicle sped off, and this is the lighting directly behind the father and the teenagers.
As you can see, it is at best poor.
No one's going to call this well-lit, good lighting, and in fact, as nice as these pictures are, and the reason we take them is I knew I was going to have to testify in court, and a picture is worth more than a thousand words abstract concepts like lux, the international measurement of illumination, the Ishihara color perception test values.
When you present those to people who are not well-versed in those aspects of science and that, they become salamanders in the noonday sun. It's like talking about the tangent of the visual angle, all right?
Their eyes just glaze over, all right?
A good forensic expert also has to be a good educator, a good communicator, and that's part of the reason why we take the pictures, to show not only where the light sources are, and what we call the spill, the distribution, but also so that it's easier for the trier of fact to understand the circumstances.
So these are some of the pictures that, in fact, I used when I testified, but more importantly were, to me as a scientist, are those readings, the photometer readings, which I can then convert into actual predictions of the visual capability of the human eye under those circumstances, under the same solar and lunar conditions at the same time, so on and so forth, right, I could predict that there would be no reliable color perception,
which is crucial for face recognition, and that there would be only scotopic vision, which means there would be very little resolution, what we call boundary or edge detection, and that furthermore, because the eyes would have been totally dilated under this light, the depth of field, the distance at which you can focus and see details, would have been less than 18 inches away.
I testified to that to the court, and while the judge was very attentive, it had been a very, very long hearing for this petition for a retrial, and as a result, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that I thought that maybe the judge was going to need a little more of a nudge than just more numbers.
And here I became a bit audacious, and I turned and I asked the judge, I said, "Your Honor, I think you should go out and look at the scene yourself."
Now I may have used a tone which was more like a dare than a request â â but nonetheless, it's to this man's credit and his courage that he said, "Yes, I will."
A shocker in American jurisprudence.
So in fact, we found the same identical conditions, we reconstructed the entire thing again, he came out with an entire brigade of sheriff's officers to protect him in this community, all right? We had him stand actually slightly in the street, so closer to the suspect vehicle, the shooter vehicle, than the actual teenagers were, so he stood a few feet from the curb toward the middle of the street.
We had a car that came by, same identical car as described by the teenagers, right?
It had a driver and a passenger, and after the car had passed the judge by, the passenger extended his hand, pointed it back to the judge as the car continued on, just as the teenagers had described it, right?
Now, he didn't use a real gun in his hand, so he had a black object in his hand that was similar to the gun that was described.
He pointed by, and this is what the judge saw.
This is the car 30 feet away from the judge.
There's an arm sticking out of the passenger side and pointed back at you.
That's 30 feet away.
Some of the teenagers said that in fact the car was 15 feet away when it shot.
Okay. There's 15 feet.
At this point, I became a little concerned.
This judge is someone you'd never want to play poker with.
He was totally stoic. I couldn't see a twitch of his eyebrow.
I couldn't see the slightest bend of his head.
I had no sense of how he was reacting to this, and after he looked at this reenactment, he turned to me and he says, "Is there anything else you want me to look at?"
I said, "Your honor," and I don't know whether I was emboldened by the scientific measurements that I had in my pocket and my knowledge that they are accurate, or whether it was just sheer stupidity, which is what the defense lawyers thought â â when they heard me say, "Yes, Your Honor, I want you stand right there and I want the car to go around the block again
right in front of you, three to four feet away, and I want the passenger to extend his hand with a black object and point it right at you, and you can look at it as long as you want."
And that's what he saw. You'll notice, which was also in my test report, all the dominant lighting is coming from the north side, which means that the shooter's face would have been photo-occluded. It would have been backlit.
Furthermore, the roof of the car is causing what we call a shadow cloud inside the car which is making it darker.
And this is three to four feet away.
Why did I take the risk?
I knew that the depth of field was 18 inches or less.
Three to four feet, it might as well have been a football field away.
This is what he saw.
He went back, there was a few more days of evidence that was heard. At the end of it, he made the judgment that he was going to grant the petition for a retrial.
And furthermore, he released Mr. Carrillo if the prosecution decided to retry him.
Which they decided not to.
He is now a freed man. This is him embracing his grandmother-in-law.
He -- His girlfriend was pregnant when he went to trial, right? And she had a little baby boy.
He and his son are both attending Cal State, Long Beach right now taking classes. And what does this example -- what's important to keep in mind for ourselves?
First of all, there's a long history of antipathy between science and the law in American jurisprudence.
I could regale you with horror stories of ignorance over decades of experience as a forensic expert of just trying to get science into the courtroom.
The opposing council always fight it and oppose it.
One suggestion is that all of us become much more attuned to the necessity, through policy, through procedures, to get more science in the courtroom, and I think one large step toward that is more requirements, with all due respect to the law schools, of science, technology, engineering, mathematics for anyone going into the law, because they become the judges.
Think about how we select our judges in this country.
It's very different than most other cultures. All right?
The other one that I want to suggest, the caution that all of us have to have, I constantly have to remind myself, about just how accurate are the memories that we know are true, that we believe in?
There is decades of research, examples and examples of cases like this, where individuals really, really believe. None of those teenagers who identified him thought that they were picking the wrong person.
None of them thought they couldn't see the person's face.
We all have to be very careful.
All our memories are reconstructed memories.
They are the product of what we originally experienced and everything that's happened afterwards.
They're dynamic.
They're malleable. They're volatile, and as a result, we all need to remember to be cautious, that the accuracy of our memories is not measured in how vivid they are nor how certain you are that they're correct.
Thank you. | {
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俺ã¯ä»ã®æšçãæ¢ã......! | I just had to defeat the enemy in front of me...
By switching my mindset to that, I felt that the scenery around me had become clearer.
When I focused on her, I saw that she looked quite young as she stood there in her raincoat.
She held a water gun in her hand, and wore matching boots. If she wasnât talking, you might mistake her for an actual child.
I had heard that there were a lot of battle VR games that didnât allow you to create younger characters, in order to avoid ethical criticisms.
...But not NSO.
Well, they did at least have age restrictions for who could play, so it wasnât completely lawless.
VR games were a little too stimulating for kids under a certain age.
âHer attacks use the water attribute. So I should use electricity! Gatling Thunder Arrow!â
I unleashed a chain of thunder arrows at Gela-tin.
I would push hard.
As she also used ranged attacks, I could imagine what her strengths and weaknesses are.
On top of that, I had Garbow.
That would give me a great advantage...!
âUhh... In spite of talking big, going up against the famous old bowman is... Argh! Come out! Kasako!â
Gela-tin pulled out an umbrella from her raincoat and opened it so that it blocked all the arrows...!
Indeed, the water gun seemed like a one-handed weapon, and so having a one-handed shield in the other hand would result in better balance for attack and defense.
And the umbrella could also be used as a weapon if necessary.
Anyone who ever played with an umbrella as a sword would know this!
It was an all-rounder weapon that could even be used in close-range combat...thatâs what an umbrella is!
âKasako. We have to stop this old man so he doesnât get in the way of Core and Satomiâs fight. So letâs fight as if we just need to buy some time.â
âKassakasa!â
The umbrella talked!?
Was it a Unison that could be equipped...?
Macoco Strange also had a Unison that could transform into a boomerang, which was a powerful weapon.
Now it was vs ...
So, would she come closer...?
â...â
But Gela-tin and Kasako...did not move!
While it might seem odd for me to not take advantage of this, it would also be easier for me to wait, as the cool down for the charge attacks I used against Core would finally end.
But she would know that as well...
What was she thinking...?
â...Ah!â
I see. Thatâs why...!
She knew that even if we fought, she would not be able to beat me!
And so she would not be the first to attack. Instead, she would focus on defense and buy time.
If this was just us fighting, it would be a waste of time, but since it was a party battle with a time limit, the rules dictated that the side with the most survivors would win.
And so she believed in her comrades.
As long as she could slow me down, her other party members would defeat the others and lead their team to victory...!
Thatâs why she didnât attack no matter how long I waited.
âGarbow. Letâs attack now!â
âGar! Gar!â
Gela-tin shuddered at this declaration.
Now, the first attack I had decided on was...
âIf youâre not going to fight, then weâll go and help Satomi!â
I turned away from her and ran!
â...What!? Hey-hey-hey-hey! Werenât you listening to them earlier!? Theyâll hate you for getting in their way!â
âLike I care! This is a place for serious fights! Not for personal grudges from real life! Besides, Iâm unemployed, so Iâm going to raise my chances of getting that million!â
âWhy are you so childish!? Tsk...! I guess I have no choice but to attack then! I donât want Core to hate me!â
Gela-tin jumped down from the high road of the junction.
âParasol Parachute!â
The handle of the umbrella Unison called Kasako began to move and clutch tightly around Gela.
Now that her hand was free, she pulled out another water gun from her item box.
âIâm good at attacking the ground from the sky! No rain can stop this operation!â
So she was going to shower me with water bullets from the sky.
However, when it came to attacking things in the air, that was something I was good at!
In the first place, I had said all of that as a way of luring her into the sky!
And now she was descending slowly in a parachute, which made her an easy target!
And so I turned around and prepared to shoot her.
âHmph! Did you really think that I was fooled by your wooden acting? Well, itâs not like you could get past my rain attacks anyway! Yes! Mushroomcopter!â
Kasako, who had been acting as a parachute until a moment ago, was now rotating furiously like the propellers of a helicopter!
Now that she had this propelling force, Gela-tin started to shoot towards me!
âThunder Arrow Tempest!â
Numerous arrows that were formed by lightning attacked Gela-tin and Kasako.
A helicopter was not that agile.
And she could not weave through the storm of arrows!
âI told you that Iâm invincible! Kasako! Peace of Mushul Powder!â
The white powder from Kasako surrounded Gela-tin!
As soon as the arrows touched it, they lost their momentum and fell to the ground...!
âItâs a charge attack for defense! While the spores donât cause any damage, it is still good with nullifying enemy attacks! Especially with attacks like yours, where there are lots of small projectiles! And it also lasts for a long ti- Ahhhhhh!!â
My real purpose was to have Garbow move under her and use Crimson Deathroll!
The spores would not be enough to stop a single, high firepower attack, and the raincoat didnât protect her from below!
And so Gela-tin took great damage on her legs, so that red X marks appeared on them.
This had been added to show that she had lost the use of them, as some players had any depictions of gore switched off.
Indeed, up until now, it was difficult to tell, which would be an advantage to players who had it switched on.
âDamn it...! Regeneration potion...!â
âI wonât let you!â
HP and MP recovery potions could be used easily during combat.
However, special items like recovery potions took nearly seconds to have an effect.
And it wouldnât activate if canceled midway, and you could not use skills or special attacks either.
So you would have to hide somewhere or have your friends guard you while using it.
It would be reckless to use it right in front of an enemy.
âGrrr...! Sorry, Core!â
After being hit by the chain of thunder attacks, Gela-tin disappeared into light.
The umbrella and raincoat that protected against rain was nothing when it came to lightning.
âThatâs one down...!â
Whenever a player died, the information was immediately shared with the others.
As this was directly linked to their chances of victory, the news could cause Mad Slime Core to change their strategy...
Logically speaking, I probably should go and support Core.
As the battle started, the two brothers had gone down from the junction and disappeared into the city. But I could still hear the sounds of them fighting.
If I wanted to go, I could...
âIâll leave it to you, Satomi.â
It was not good to interfere in a personal battle between men.
And so I would search for a different target...! | {
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ã¢ãªã·ã¢ã«ãšã£ãŠã®æ倧ã®èªãèšèã¯ãæªå¥³ããªãã ããã | I was awakened by a knock at the door.
With narrow, freshly awakened eyes, I turned my gaze towards the window, and the sunlight was too bright for me to meditate.
âHmm~~â
I noticed that Alicia, who should have been next to me, was not there.
...Well, I guess she was already awake. The sun was already up this high.
I had slept too soundly. But it was the security of Alicia sleeping next to me that made it such a good sleep.
I didnât sleep well when I was in the poor village, and after I left the village, I basically slept with my mind on edge the whole time.
After Alicia went to Ravaal Kingdom, I hardly slept at all.
I needed Alicia, after all...she was too big for me.
âGilles, are you there?â
...Curtis?
I stopped thinking for a moment at the unexpected voice.
Why was Curtis here? This was the Williamsâ house, wasnât it?
I approached the door, rubbing my eyes.
I opened the door, âIâm here,â I said, slightly suspicious.
âYouâre really in Ali-chanâs room...â
Curtis said as soon as he saw me.
I was sure I was in Aliciaâs room. Maybe it would have been bad for others to know I was here....
No, they knew I was here in the first place, so was it okay?
It wasnât a problem between nobles and commoners, but between men and women. But if Alicia told them about this place, maybe it was no big deal.
...No good, Iâve just woken up and canât think straight.
âWhy are you here? I mean, what are you doing?â
âAli-chan said Gilles is here. Sheâs in the guest room talking with Henry, Albert, and Finn, and they want Gilles to come over.â
I knew it was Alicia.
...Alicia really was slow at this.
If I hadnât told her, no one would have known I was here....
âI think so too. Sheâs not very good at risk management when it comes to this kind of thing. Everything else is perfect.â
Curtis, perhaps reading my mind, said.
âWe have to follow up on these things.â
âOtherwise, there will be rumors about Alicia Williams being a Villainess, and even the rumors about her and Duke sharing a bed got us into trouble.â
âDonât you ever tell Alicia that sheâs a Villainess!â
I said in a strong tone, and I could see Aliciaâs reaction.
âDonât worry. Iâm not going to say anything that will hurt a girlâs feelings.â
âNo, the opposite.â
Alicia was pleased.
I said, trying to cover Curtisâs words.
Aliciaâs biggest compliment was to be a âVillainessâ. | {
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ãã·ã£ããå·èµåº«ãã倧ç¿ã«çãããé£äºãéãã§ãããšãäžäººã§é£åãå²ã¿æçãå ªèœããã | It was already past noon when they were released. Schenna and Luthors then went to the commercial district and sat on a bench in the square there.
â...Iâm sorry. I got so much into the role I caused a lot of trouble for you and Sareneea.â
âIâm the one who should be responsible for you, so it wasnât your fault.â
As someone who is known for her fighting strength and courage all over the Five Grand Powers for a long time, Luthors might have thought she was just acting, but she had been too near-sighted to consider what would happen with swings carried the strength of a knight.
Seeing her worried face, Schenna hugged Luthors and made a suggestion to her.
âIs it okay if I sleep in your room tonight?â
âThatâs...â
âAh, I promise I wonât do anything weird! I might have been a guy in my past life, but I was thinking we could have a fun conversation as fellow girls now.â
Schenna still did not know much of Luthorsâ hobbies or tastes, apart from her life as a knight and the stories told about her, though that was understandable considering how busy she had been with the opening of the restaurant. As Schenna remembered how she ate and drank when she met Kishana before, she figured she could try to entertain Luthors while also treating it as a welcome party of sorts.
âWould that bother you?â
âNo, I like it when you act so assertive. Iâll be in your care tonight.â
Schenna then took her hand and escorted her back to the restaurant, where Kishana was waiting for them.
âWeâre back. Sorry it took so long.â
âYou two! Where have you been loitering around all this time? I was worried you had been taken to the administrative district again!â
They had been taken to the administrative district, in fact, but Schenna omitted most of the details and only told Kishana the rice cooker would be delivered in around three days.
âIâm glad about the rice cooker, but more than that Iâm glad to know you two are safe.â
Kishana then broke down in tears, relieved that the two had returned safe and sound.
âIâm really sorry we made you worry like this. But itâs okay, donât cry now.â
Schenna reached out to Kishana, but at the same time, her stomach rumbled.
Soon after Luthorsâ stomach also rumbled, making Kishana laugh in resignation.
âYou two can really be a handful. Lunch is already prepared so come sit at the table to eat.â
Kishana went to the freezer and took out a large plate with food on it and carried it to the table, then the three sat down and enjoyed their meal. | {
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ãå£ããããã£ã£!! | [Mitsuha, you havenât been to any parties lately......] Count Bozes
[And whose fault is it?] Mitsuha
Yes, the new continent had taken up so much of my time that I had been away from the social parties in this country for a while.
However, not completely, but occasionally I attend some events. Like a birthday party of someone I knew, or a party hosted by someone who had been good to me......
The reason why I havenât show up at all for a while now is because of the insensitive and maiden-dignity-trampling comment of Count Bozes from the last time.
He was so surprised by my anger that he talked to Iris-sama and Beatrice-chan, and they both gave him a good beating. That felt nice!
[No, Iâm sorry! I apologize, Iâll take care of that......] Count Bozes
I donât care!
Well, itâs okay, because it made his investigation of <what Iâm doing secretly> get forgotten.
......Itâs good enough! !!
Well, I donât know what Count-samaâs opinions and feelings are.
If I donât attend a party of another family, Count-sama, who is in a position of guardianship for me as a minor (or so he thinks), will be criticized for not allowing me to attend by Count Bozes, for trying to keep me in his faction, and many other things.
Basically, people in this country try to get close to me and gain an advantage, but not many people try to antagonize me, or set me up, or exploit me. So itâs not as bad as the social circles in the Vanell Kingdom in the New Continent.
Well, over there, Iâm supposed to be just <a daughter of a queen in a small distant country>, and itâs probably just baited for exploitation.
On the other hand, in this country, I am the sister of the king of a great country, a Hime-Miko of thunder who uses mysterious magic, and a great hero who saved the kingdom from a great invasion. So itâs no surprise that they treated me differently......
Normally, it would not be surprising if assassins were sent from other countries to assassinate me, or abduct me or flood me with betrothal offers to bring Hime-Miko to their side, but as expected, no country would do such a thing at a critical time when they are trying to gain ground against an invasion from a new continent.....
Besides, if they tried to do something crazy and it was exposed, the Hime-Mikoâs Divine Army might suddenly appear to beat them and the surrounding countries to a pulp. It would be too much of a risk.
Iâm the only one who can speak the language of the new continent perfectly, and Iâm the only one who is familiar with ships, cannons, guns, and other weapons.
No, the ex-crew members can operate the ship, do simple maintenance, and repairs, but theyâre not experts in manufacturing such mega structures.
Of course, Iâm not an expert either, but I have strong allies.
Yes, Google Sensei, blog collaborators, the vast ocean called the internet, and the library.
Thatâs why I can answer any question immediately or to some extent, answer their more difficult questions the next day. Thatâs why people think Iâm very knowledgeable......, but Iâm not.
Well, you know how it is. When you were asked a question and you answer that question the next day, you will then be asked an additional question, so you have to answer it again the next day. Thatâs why it is easy to say that <Oh, she doesnât really know anything, so she is going to ask someone else every time>.
Well, it means that I am useful in shipbuilding and weapons development, even if I have to ask someone every single time.
This is the most popular shipbuilding and weapons development center in the region.
Her Highness, the Kingâs little sister of a great nation.
Hime-Miko of Thunder.
A great hero who saved the kingdom.
The head of the Viscount family.
A young, unmarried woman.
......Yeah, Iâm as good as flytrap or roach motel® .
Iâm sure many people are willing to get close to me......
[Iâve been getting a lot of engagement offers.] Count Bozes
[Oh, youâre here!] Mitsuha
Well, even if they think Iâm about or years old, itâs normal for children of noble families to have a fiancée from an early age, so itâs only natural that they come.
The fact that the trio princesses in this country are all single is strange, to begin with.
The other day I heard from Sabine-chan and the other <little sister>, the second princess, that the reason for that was because the first princess lost her fiancé.
Beatrice has no fiancé either, probably because of Count and Iris, maybe...
......I mean, why do you rush in at the right time, as if you knew what I was thinking?
[Well, maybe because youâre making that obvious since the beginning...] Count Bozes
There you go again!
[So, that application is...] Mitsuha
[I turned them all down.] Count Bozes
[No, show him to me at least! There might have been an application from a handsome prince or a healing shota or something!] Mitsuha
[...Shota? ] Count Bozes
[No, nothing......] Mitsuha
Iâm seen as around in Japan and -13 here, so if I date a boy who looks about my age here, heâll be a shota, right?.......
Oh, speaking of a prince, Sabine-chanâs brother, the second prince, Ruhen, is cute and soothing. I donât like the older brother, the sparkling crown prince, because he seems to tire me out when Iâm with him......
[Why did they send the application to the Count and not to me directly?...... And why did you reject it without permission? Please donât cancel my happiness without permission!] Mitsuha
I was furious.
[No, who would send a request for engagement directly to the person herself? It should be addressed to the parents, or in this case, to the guardian.] Count Bozes
Ah, sure, regardless of the proposal between commoners, the marriage of aristocrats is more of a problem between houses than between the couple themselves, so, naturally, there is such a tradition.
In Japan, when a troublesome aunt comes to your house with a proposal for an arranged marriage, she will first talk to your parents, not to you. As Count-sama said, itâs certainly natural.......
However...
[Count-sama, are you my guardian?] Mitsuha
[Wha!...... Mitsuha, you, youâre asking me that now?.......] Count Bozes
Are
? Count-sama dropped his shoulders...
No, indeed, heâs always taken care of a lot of things for me, and heâs done guardian-like things for me, so if you think about it, he really is my guardian......
No, youâve never been told that formally before, have you? So donât look so depressed!
Iâm sorry! That was my fault, donât feel so bad!
......Damn it, if I play this poorly, Iâll be forced to make a promise that I will go to a party.
Thatâs why the aristocrats as messengers are going...
Well, it canât be helped. I knew Iâd have to start showing up at social events soon.
The party designated by Count-sama should be the first round of my return to social gatherings.......
[Oh, Viscount Yamano, itâs been a while. Have you been on vacation or did you just got back home?] Aristocrat
[Yes, I went on a little trip.......] Mitsuha
Yeah, no one in this country would think of me moving to another country, so they wonât be worried if I travel to another country. Not even a country like the Vanell Kingdom in the New Continent, but itâs not just the Vanell Kingdom!!!
[Viscount-dono, I would like you to attend my sonâs birthday party next week......] Aristocrat A
[Viscount, if there is anything I can do to assist the craftsmen of your territory in the development of shipbuilding and weaponry, I will gladly be of assistance!] Aristocrat B
[Viscount Yamano, may I ask you a few questions about the garments you said were made in Yamano territory?] Aristocrat C
[Would you mind talking to me about purchasing a large quantity of explosive corn for the lightning corn?] Merchant
[Iâd like to invite you and Princess Sabine to my residence sometime......] Aristocrat D
If you miss, youâre out. If you hit, youâre in!
Itâs not a good idea, however, the aristocrats are coming in one after another, coated in eagerness to shoot their shot. Some of them are not aristocrats, but owners of big merchant companies......
Itâs not a social circle anymore, itâs a <shooting gallery>!
The second one!
Ask Count Bozes directly! It is not within my jurisdiction!
The third and fourth are related to the development of the territoryâs industries, so letâs set a place for them for now.
Yes, there are a lot of troublesome applications, but as a lord, I still have to attend these social gatherings......
This is also <work>, so it canât be helped.
When your father comes home drunk after work, thatâs still part of his job, I guess.
How could it be fun to have a drink with your boss at work or your business partner, than with a good friend?
Iâve heard that many people have broken their bodies from drinking while providing entertainment.
And as you might expect, not one is offering me alcohol, but.......
[Viscount Yamano, thereâs some delicious-looking exotic food over there!] Aristocrat A
[Over there, there are sweets made with rare fruits!] Aristocrat B
[The head chef here has created an exquisitely flavored mixed juice......] Aristocrat C
Youâre destroying my body figure!! | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 2,
"inserted_lines_src": 5,
"inserted_lines_trg": 4
} |
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ãæŠãä»ããŠããŠããã圌女ãåå æžã誀ãã°ã«ã·ã§ã©ã¯å§æ»ãããšããã ã£ãã | Several days have passed since.
Though Lucella had escaped the grips of death, he was still far from the normal state.
Lucella entrusted himself to lethargy and lay in the dragonâs nest all day long, sleeping and waking up in turns. It was comfortable, but there was nothing to do. With so much time, his thoughts focused on one thingââjust who am I?â
Maybe because he received its daughterâs name from the dragon, or because he suffered near-mortal wounds, Lucellaâs memories of life until now were blurred.
He didnât remember why he came to Mount Kuguse, or even why he was dying there.
However, he felt like he had to return alive at any cost, and also felt a burning grudge toward someone. His only lead was the clothes he wore. They were adult clothes with a bloodstained hole.
He also had a knife on his waist, but it looked like an outdoor knife you could buy anywhere, and it wasnât a combat knife either.
âI wasnât some hero who came to slay the dragon, right? Uhh... I donât remember much, but I doubt Iâd be on the verge of death if I was that strong.
There should be a place where Lucella used to lie dying.
He thought he had to go find that place, but it was far too unrealistic to search for a specific spot on this vast Mount Kuguse. The rainstorms and vegetation would also erase the traces if he couldnât find it soon.
âSeriously, why was I about to die in a place like that? Why did I even climb a mountain where a dragon lived?
Lucella had the bloodied, pierced shirt wrapped around his body, clearly meant for an adult and too big for his body. He was looking at it quizzically now.
It had a piercing wound that passed through the body.
Whether he was stabbed by a sword or a monster with a long horn he didnât know.
He couldnât remember himself being strong, and as such, there were countless reasons that couldâve led to his death on this mountain.
The main question was why would a guy who couldnât even fight come to a dangerous mountain like this?
âGrrroooarrr!â
There was a roar that shook the mountain and Lucella looked toward the source.
âOh, did she take something down?â
Mount Kuguse had a narrow field of view due to its abundant vegetation, but the dragonâs nest was located in a somewhat elevated spot, and the target also had a mountain-like body, so it was easy for him to find it.
He looked to the distance while shading his eyes with his forearm, and beyond the sea of green trees, he saw a deep crimson back and wings of a gigantic body.
The dragon had swooped down on her prey from above and seemed to have finished it off in a quick close fight; she eventually soared up while holding something.
Just by flapping her wings, she caused the trees around to start creaking.
She was a red dragon so big that even her silhouette was clearly visible even from afar. She gradually grew closer and closer and grew so big Lucella had to look up at it.
Her big and strong feet were tightly grasping a monsterâs corpse with claws that could even pierce Mythril.
âAgh!â
Lucella almost got blown away by the wing pressure generated by her wings.
The owner of this nest, the queen of the mountain, had returned. The mountain trembled just from her landing.
The giant red dragon was impressive as is just by crouching next to her, but seeing her moving figure was too overwhelming.
She was most likely about twenty meters long. Her rugged body had an overall sharp impression and looked refined as a living being.
Dragons were known best for their breath attack but seeing one like this made it secondary.
The very weight of her existence was on a different level. A single light swing of her claws would shred a human being like paper. But she didnât use her claws and fangs to tear Lucella up.
Instead, she rubbed her giant snout at Lucella to announce that she was back, and then proceeded to butcher the game she just hunted.
The game in question was a bear-like monster with colorful fringes all over its body. As monsters underwent mutation near the dragonâs habitat Lucella didnât know what kind of monster it used to be, but it was most likely frighteningly strong. Though it had met its end by the dragonâs claw.
The dragon seemed to be able to move freely both on four legs and on two while standing up, and she was able to move her forefeet which were equipped with sharp claws quite skillfully. The red dragon inserted her claws between the monsterâs hide and flesh and proceeded to skin it.
The monsterâs corpse got separated into hide and meat in an instant.
She then tore off and chewed part of the meat to soften it, and grilled it with fire inside her mouth.
This is probably the most magnificent furnace in the world,
Before long, she presented the well-roasted meat to Lucella.
â...Thanks.â
Lucella looked up and thanked the dragon. But she didnât show a reaction. It seemed that the dragon didnât understand Lucellaâs words. It was said that dragons were more intelligent than humans and could even take on a human form. But Lucella had never seen this red dragon do that.
It didnât seem like this dragon was particularly unintelligent. It could be that she didnât know human words since she spent her life without coming in contact with humans, but then that would mean the other dragons managed to contact humans in some way to learn their language. Lucella continued pondering about things he had no answer for.
At any rate, Lucella started to eat the offered meal.
The dragon-cooked monster meat had an indescribably peculiar taste. It was freshly-hunted meat that wasnât even drained of blood. Lucella felt a strange sense of heat spreading in his stomach as he ate.
The dragon observed Lucella as he started to eat while lightly swinging her head. Lucella couldnât tell her expression but she seemed to be happy at least.
This was quite an odd situation.
A dragon that had lost her egg in a rain disaster had picked up a dying human, giving him her daughterâs name and caring after him.
She took care of Lucella devotedly, just like a real daughter.
And, she seemed to be... enjoying it too.
âI suppose even dragons would feel lonely when they lose their child. I mean, I guess thatâs obvious.
Maybe it could be called a whim. Or maybe it was cherishing. Or maybe even just a way to fill up the loneliness. Or perhaps all of that combined.
Lucella was grateful that she saved him, but he didnât know how to understand her emotions. After all, he couldnât even communicate with her. Neither knew what the other was thinking, so they had to communicate with gestures.
As the dragon observed Lucellaâs meal, she started to peel the bear monsterâs skin further.
She cut off its limbs, and head, and scraped off the meat.
What was left was the clean hide of its torso. It was a dark gray hide accented with colorful fringes.
She then picked the hide up with her fingers and after checking it, she suddenly dropped it over Lucellaâs back.
âWoah?!â
It was quite heavy.
âHuh, what? You want me to wear it?â
Looking up, the dragon was gently swaying her head.
Lucella was currently wearing the overly large shirt like a dress, and looked both a little improper and lacked protection against cold.
It was still a warm season, but when fall came the nights would get pretty cold. A single shirt wouldnât cut it.
It was hard to tell how much of that the dragon understood, but she at least seemed to have realized the need to deal with cold and specifically hunted prey with a warm hide.
âThanks...â
Lucella thanked her but he knew she wouldnât understand it.
âIâm thanking her but I doubt sheâs getting it. A human wouldâve understood it through the nuance but...
But then, Lucella suddenly stood up and approached the burly dragon, and rubbed his face on her leg.
Seeing that, the dragon did the usual to Lucella.
âAhahaha, s-stop... Wah!â
She quickly responded back. She gently hummed and reached out, rubbing her head at Lucella.
But a giant dragon doing that resulted in Lucella falling back on the foliage and doing a spin.
He got entwined in the hide he wore in the process.
â.........It smells like blood.â
The hide, which was roughly stripped off with no proper manufacturing, had a choking bloody smell.
...But it was better than freezing. As for the smell... Lucella could only hope that itâd go away with time.
â....Ruo...wooo...â
The dragon spoke something.
It was an extremely simple sound, but the moment Lucella heard it, his head was filled with so much information it made him sick.
There was a magic that allowed people to communicate with mind and heart alone called telepathy, so perhaps it was something akin to it.
But the dragonâs words were mercilessly pouring down on Lucella and crammed information in his head.
Needless to say, Lucella didnât understand the dragon language. It felt as if some difficult code was being forcibly decrypted in his head.
âLucella.â
He only understood that name alone.
The name that the dragon bestowed on him.
â...Lucella. Lucella.â
Lucella repeated that name while touching his body in a patting motion.
âTell me your name,â he was trying to say.
It took the dragon a few moments to understand the meaning. She bared her fangs and groaned something shortly.
âKafal.â
Lucella clearly heard that.
âKafal? Kafal...â
As he repeated the name, she ardently rubbed her nose at him. Had she made a mistake in strength, Lucella wouldâve most likely been crushed to death. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 2,
"inserted_lines_src": 21,
"inserted_lines_trg": 1
} |
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ãªããªã ããã ããã ãã㊠ããã åãæ¯èŠªã®å§¿ã§ã¯ãªãããã§ã | If you ask the Internet, this is what you'll be told.
if you attempt to work at a computer with a baby on your lap.
But no, this isn't a working mother.
You'll notice a theme in these photos. We'll look at a lot of them.
That theme is amazing natural lighting, which, as we all know, is the hallmark of every American workplace.
There are thousands of images like these.
Just put the term "working mother" into any Google image search engine, stock photo site.
They're all over the Internet, they're topping blog posts and news pieces, and I've become kind of obsessed with them and the lie that they tell us and the comfort that they give us, that when it comes to new working motherhood in America, everything's fine.
But it's not fine.
As a country, we are sending millions of women back to work every year, incredibly and kind of horrifically soon after they give birth.
That's a moral problem but today I'm also going to tell you why it's an economic problem.
I got so annoyed and obsessed with the unreality of these images, which look nothing like my life, that I recently decided to shoot and star in a parody series of stock photos that I hoped the world would start to use just showing the really awkward reality of going back to work when your baby's food source is attached to your body.
I'm just going to show you two of them.
Nothing says "Give that girl a promotion" like leaking breast milk through your dress during a presentation.
You'll notice that there's no baby in this photo, because that's not how this works, not for most working mothers.
Did you know, and this will ruin your day, that every time a toilet is flushed, its contents are aerosolized and they'll stay airborne for hours?
And yet, for many new working mothers, this is the only place during the day that they can find to make food for their newborn babies.
I put these things, a whole dozen of them, into the world.
I wanted to make a point.
I didn't know what I was also doing was opening a door, because now, total strangers from all walks of life write to me all the time just to tell me what it's like for them to go back to work within days or weeks of having a baby.
I'm going to share 10 of their stories with you today.
They are totally real, some of them are very raw, and not one of them looks anything like this.
Here's the first.
"I was an active duty service member at a federal prison.
I returned to work after the maximum allowed eight weeks for my C-section.
A male coworker was annoyed that I had been out on 'vacation,' so he intentionally opened the door on me while I was pumping breast milk and stood in the doorway with inmates in the hallway."
Most of the stories that these women, total strangers, send to me now, are not actually even about breastfeeding.
A woman wrote to me to say, "I gave birth to twins and went back to work after seven unpaid weeks.
Emotionally, I was a wreck.
Physically, I had a severe hemorrhage during labor, and major tearing, so I could barely get up, sit or walk.
My employer told me I wasn't allowed to use my available vacation days because it was budget season."
I've come to believe that we can't look situations like these in the eye because then we'd be horrified, and if we get horrified then we have to do something about it.
So we choose to look at, and believe, this image.
I don't really know what's going on in this picture, because I find it weird and slightly creepy.
Like, what is she doing?
But I know what it tells us.
It tells us that everything's fine.
This working mother, all working mothers and all of their babies, are fine.
There's nothing to see here.
And anyway, women have made a choice, so none of it's even our problem.
I want to break this choice thing down into two parts.
The first choice says that women have chosen to work.
So, that's not true.
Today in America, women make up 47 percent of the workforce, and in 40 percent of American households a woman is the sole or primary breadwinner.
Our paid work is a part, a huge part, of the engine of this economy, and it is essential for the engines of our families.
On a national level, our paid work is not optional.
Choice number two says that women are choosing to have babies, so women alone should bear the consequences of those choices.
You know, that's one of those things that when you hear it in passing, can sound correct.
I didn't make you have a baby.
I certainly wasn't there when that happened.
But that stance ignores a fundamental truth, which is that our procreation on a national scale is not optional.
The babies that women, many of them working women, are having today, will one day fill our workforce, protect our shores, make up our tax base.
Our procreation on a national scale is not optional.
These aren't choices.
We need women to work. We need working women to have babies.
So we should make doing those things at the same time at least palatable, right?
OK, this is pop quiz time: what percentage of working women in America do you think have no access to paid maternity leave?
88 percent.
88 percent of working mothers will not get one minute of paid leave after they have a baby.
So now you're thinking about unpaid leave.
It exists in America. It's called FMLA. It does not work.
Because of the way it's structured, all kinds of exceptions, half of new mothers are ineligible for it.
Here's what that looks like.
"We adopted our son.
When I got the call, the day he was born, I had to take off work.
I had not been there long enough to qualify for FMLA, so I wasn't eligible for unpaid leave.
When I took time off to meet my newborn son, I lost my job."
These corporate stock photos hide another reality, another layer.
Of those who do have access to just that unpaid leave, most women can't afford to take much of it at all.
A nurse told me, "I didn't qualify for short-term disability because my pregnancy was considered a preexisting condition.
We used up all of our tax returns and half of our savings during my six unpaid weeks.
We just couldn't manage any longer.
Physically it was hard, but emotionally it was worse.
I struggled for months being away from my son."
So this decision to go back to work so early, it's a rational economic decision driven by family finances, but it's often physically horrific because putting a human into the world is messy.
A waitress told me, "With my first baby, I was back at work five weeks postpartum.
With my second, I had to have major surgery after giving birth, so I waited until six weeks to go back.
I had third degree tears."
23 percent of new working mothers in America will be back on the job within two weeks of giving birth.
"I worked as a bartender and cook, average of 75 hours a week while pregnant.
I had to return to work before my baby was a month old, working 60 hours a week.
One of my coworkers was only able to afford 10 days off with her baby."
Of course, this isn't just a scenario with economic and physical implications.
Childbirth is, and always will be, an enormous psychological event.
A teacher told me, "I returned to work eight weeks after my son was born.
I already suffer from anxiety, but the panic attacks I had prior to returning to work were unbearable."
Statistically speaking, the shorter a woman's leave after having a baby, the more likely she will be to suffer from postpartum mood disorders like depression and anxiety, and among many potential consequences of those disorders, suicide is the second most common cause of death in a woman's first year postpartum.
Heads up that this next story -- I've never met this woman, but I find it hard to get through.
"I feel tremendous grief and rage that I lost an essential, irreplaceable and formative time with my son.
Labor and delivery left me feeling absolutely broken.
For months, all I remember is the screaming: colic, they said.
On the inside, I was drowning.
Every morning, I asked myself how much longer I could do it.
I was allowed to bring my baby to work.
I closed my office door while I rocked and shushed and begged him to stop screaming so I wouldn't get in trouble.
I hid behind that office door every damn day and cried while he screamed.
I cried in the bathroom while I washed out the pump equipment.
Every day, I cried all the way to work and all the way home again.
I promised my boss that the work I didn't get done during the day, I'd make up at night from home.
I thought, there's just something wrong with me that I can't swing this."
So those are the mothers.
What of the babies?
As a country, do we care about the millions of babies born every year to working mothers?
I say we don't, not until they're of working and tax-paying and military-serving age.
We tell them we'll see them in 18 years, and getting there is kind of on them.
One of the reasons I know this is that babies whose mothers have 12 or more weeks at home with them are more likely to get their vaccinations and their well checks in their first year, so those babies are more protected from deadly and disabling diseases.
But those things are hidden behind images like this.
America has a message for new mothers who work and for their babies.
Whatever time you get together, you should be grateful for it, and you're an inconvenience to the economy and to your employers.
That narrative of gratitude runs through a lot of the stories I hear.
A woman told me, "I went back at eight weeks after my C-section because my husband was out of work.
Without me, my daughter had failure to thrive.
She wouldn't take a bottle.
She started losing weight.
Thankfully, my manager was very understanding.
He let my mom bring my baby, who was on oxygen and a monitor, four times a shift so I could nurse her."
There's a little club of countries in the world that offer no national paid leave to new mothers.
Care to guess who they are?
The first eight make up eight million in total population.
They are Papua New Guinea, Suriname and the tiny island nations of Micronesia, Marshall Islands, Nauru, Niue, Palau and Tonga.
Number nine is the United States of America, with 320 million people.
Oh, that's it.
That's the end of the list.
Every other economy on the planet has found a way to make some level of national paid leave work for the people doing the work of the future of those countries, but we say, "We couldn't possibly do that."
We say that the market will solve this problem, and then we cheer when corporations offer even more paid leave to the women who are already the highest-educated and highest-paid among us.
Remember that 88 percent?
Those middle- and low-income women are not going to participate in that.
We know that there are staggering economic, financial, physical and emotional costs to this approach.
We have decided -- decided, not an accident, to pass these costs directly on to working mothers and their babies.
We know the price tag is higher for low-income women, therefore disproportionately for women of color.
We pass them on anyway.
All of this is to America's shame.
But it's also to America's risk.
Because what would happen if all of these individual so-called choices to have babies started to turn into individual choices not to have babies.
One woman told me, "New motherhood is hard. It shouldn't be traumatic.
When we talk about expanding our family now, we focus on how much time I would have to care for myself and a new baby.
If we were to have to do it again the same way as with our first, we might stick with one kid."
The birthrate needed in America to keep the population stable is 2.1 live births per woman.
In America today, we are at 1.86.
We need women to have babies, and we are actively disincentivizing working women from doing that.
What would happen to work force, to innovation, to GDP, if one by one, the working mothers of this country were to decide that they can't bear to do this thing more than once?
I'm here today with only one idea worth spreading, and you've guessed what it is.
It is long since time for the most powerful country on Earth to offer national paid leave to the people doing the work of the future of this country and to the babies who represent that future.
Childbirth is a public good.
This leave should be state-subsidized.
It should have no exceptions for small businesses, length of employment or entrepreneurs.
It should be able to be shared between partners.
I've talked today a lot about mothers, but co-parents matter on so many levels.
Not one more woman should have to go back to work while she is hobbling and bleeding.
Not one more family should have to drain their savings account to buy a few days of rest and recovery and bonding.
Not one more fragile infant should have to go directly from the incubator to day care because his parents have used up all of their meager time sitting in the NICU.
Not one more working family should be told that the collision of their work, their needed work and their needed parenthood, is their problem alone.
The catch is that when this is happening to a new family, it is consuming, and a family with a new baby is more financially vulnerable than they've ever been before, so that new mother cannot afford to speak up on her own behalf.
But all of us have voices.
I am done, done having babies, and you might be pre-baby, you might be post-baby, you might be no baby.
It should not matter.
We have to stop framing this as a mother's issue, or even a women's issue.
This is an American issue.
We need to stop buying the lie that these images tell us.
We need to stop being comforted by them.
We need to question why we're told that this can't work when we see it work everywhere all over the world.
We need to recognize that this American reality is to our dishonor and to our peril.
Because this is not, this is not, and this is not what a working mother looks like. | {
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ã蚪ããäºå®ã ã | As usual, once the light of the teleportation died down, the surrounding scenery was changed. Its destination was nearby Maleva. Since we did not use the Guildâs teleportation, this wasnât an official teleportation point.
Vast grasslands spread ahead, and there was a steep mountain towering over the surroundings from the west of the city. It had a history of erupting before, so humans didnât approach it. In fact, that was supposed to be the sanctuary of the God of Destruction, Yuuri.
In other words, it was the homeplace of my great ancestor.
Since it was the sanctuary of such a God, on top of the risk of eruption, almost no one wanted to go near it despite being right next to the city.
That was the reason why that recluse blacksmith lived in such a place.
â...Itâs lookinâ the same as always.â
Itâs been twenty years since I had died. But the scenery here hasnât changed one bit. Unlike me, who muttered that nostalgically, Letina started flapping her clothes.
âWhat are you doing?â
âDonât you feel it, Nicole? The air here feels... Different, isnât it?â
Hearing that, I also imitated her and brought fresh air inside my clothes to confirm the sensation. And I quickly realized what she meant.
âAhh, this is because we arenât in the sea of trees.â
âWhat makes it different?â
âThe Forest Kingdom of Raum is full of deep forests. The moisture drifts all around there. But the Sword Kingdom of Alecmarle doesnât have that many forests. Because of that, our clothes donât feel as sticky here.â
âNow that you mentioned it, I donât feel the smell of the greenery, just the dirt.â
âI donât think itâs really all that bad... Itâs a little pitiful to compare it to Raum.â
Alecmarle had shallow forests, but it wasnât like it lacked nature. However, as it was a kingdom that revered the One-Armed War God Alec, and followed the supremacy of swordsmanship, they also were active in smithing.
And in proportion to it, they were actively mining for the ores and felling trees in the forests across the land, so their forest territories were gradually decreasing... Back in my time, at least.
âAt present, their ore supplies are mostly imported from the Matara Alliance. Sadly there is still nothing to be done about the firewood problem.â
Maxwell heard our conversation and joined in. Since he had visited this place before, he shouldâve been more aware of what was going on with it nowadays.
âLord Maxwell!? Ah, thatâs right, you followed us here.â
âThat sounds like I am an extra...â
âMy apologies! Putting that aside, you are quite knowledgeable about this place, arenât you, Nicole?â
âI-I, uh, heard it from Dad...?â
âWhy did you bend your head while answering that, I wonder?â
âJust felt like it!â
âReally?â
I made a fist and insisted on it. Letina was overpowered by my insistence and backed down without catching on to the fact that I was bluffing my way out.
Maxwell smiled at our behavior and patted our heads. Incidentally, Kabby was on my head as a guard so my hair escaped the pat.
Having her hair ruffled, Letina showed a complex expression, being both happy and sad. As a noble daughter who was advocating her high girliness, having her hair messed up was quite a sad thing. But at the same time, she was hanging on to the threshold of happiness since it was the touch of that Maxwell.
âWell, their smithing can be said to be prosperous, but they still cannot hold a candle to Matara, which is the home of it. However, there is still a possibility of a hidden craftsman lurking here.â
âIs there someone like that here?â
âHow could I know! That is why they are called
âThatâs sounded so evasive...â
Letina gave him an exasperated glance, but Maxwell was probably referring to the blacksmith that I came to visit. It was a total coincidence that I got to meet him, too, but he was someone who truly held an extraordinary ability to make elaborate magic tools.
It has been twenty years since then, though, so I didnât know whether he was still alive and kicking.
âHey, Maxwell! Stop loitering over there, letâs hurry up to the city.â
âVery well. It would be scary to anger you, Cortina.â
âHuuuuuhh!?â
They started their usual chitchat, but even the students were already used to seeing it at the academy. Before I came here, they seemed to have acted a bit more distant, so everyone was surprised at their change at first.
âAnyway, we have to check the chivalric order and stuff later, so we should hurry up!â
âOkay, okay.â
Maxwell was the one to suggest inspecting their swordsmanship since we were coming to the Sword Kingdom and all. Back in my childhood, I longed for the chivalric order, but due to my frail body, I failed the entrance exam.
The marathon training of the physical exam completely and utterly wrung me dry of power. I collapsed and was left behind on the way, but those that managed to pull through that hell managed to become the most respected knights of this kingdom.
Having the opportunity to inspect that same chivalric order after all this time was a strange play of fate.
By the way, todayâs schedule was to check-in at the inn, then have a lecture about the chivalric order, and then have lunch. After that, we planned to ask them to observe their training.
Following that would be dinner and bath, then sleep. And finally, I planned to head to the blacksmith in question. Maxwell was following me, so returning would be easy. | {
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èŽããããšãããããŸãã | They might weigh up to two tons.
Some say up to five tons.
They're the second largest fish in the world.
They're also harmless plankton-feeding animals. And they are thought to be able to filter a cubic kilometer of water every hour and can feed on 30 kilos of zoo plankton a day to survive.
They're fantastic creatures.
And we're very lucky in Ireland, we have plenty of basking sharks and plenty of opportunities to study them.
They were also very important to coast communities going back hundreds of years, especially the around the Claddagh, Duff, Connemara region where subsistence farmers used to sail out on their hookers and open boats sometimes way off shore, sometimes to a place called the Sunfish Bank, which is about 30 miles west of Achill Island, to kill the basking sharks.
This is an old woodcut from the 17, 1800s.
So they were very important, and they were important for the oil out of their liver.
A third of the size of the basking shark is their liver, and it's full of oil.
You get gallons of oil from their liver.
And that oil was used especially for lighting, but also for dressing wounds and other things.
In fact, the streetlights in 1742 of Galway, Dublin and Waterford were linked with sunfish oil.
And "sunfish" is one of the words for basking sharks.
So they were incredibly important animals.
They've been around a long time, have been very important to coast communities.
Probably the best documented basking shark fishery in the world is that from Achill Island.
This is Keem Bay up in Achill Island.
And sharks used to come into the bay.
And the fishermen would tie a net off the headland, string it out along the other net.
And as the shark came round, it would hit the net, the net would collapse on it.
It would often drown and suffocate.
Or at times, they would row out in their small currachs and kill it with a lance through the back of the neck.
And then they'd tow the sharks back to Purteen Harbor, boil them up, use the oil.
They used to use the flesh as well for fertilizer This is probably the biggest threat to sharks worldwide -- it is the finning of sharks.
We're often all frightened of sharks thanks to "Jaws."
Maybe five or six people get killed by sharks every year.
There was someone recently, wasn't there? Just a couple weeks ago.
We kill about 100 million sharks a year.
So I don't know what the balance is, but I think sharks have got more right to be fearful of us than we have of them.
It was a well-documented fishery, and as you can see here, it peaked in the 50s where they were killing 1,500 sharks a year.
And it declined very fast -- a classic boom and bust fishery, which suggests that a stock has been depleted or there's low reproductive rates.
And they killed about 12,000 sharks in this period, literally just by stringing a manila rope off the tip of Keem Bay at Achill Island.
Sharks were still killed up into the mid-80s, especially after places like Dunmore East in County Waterford.
And about two and a half, 3,000 sharks were killed up till '85, many by Norwegian vessels.
The black, you can't really see this, but these are Norwegian basking shark hunting vessels, and the black line in the crow's nest signifies this is a shark vessel rather than a whaling vessel.
The importance of basking sharks to the coast communities is recognized through the language.
Now I don't pretend to have any Irish, the monster with the sails.
And another title would be "Liop an da lapa," the unwieldy beast with two fins.
"Liabhan mor," suggesting a big animal.
Or my favorite, "Liabhan chor greine," the great fish of the sun.
And that's a lovely, evocative name.
On Tory Island, which is a strange place anyway, they were known as muldoons, and no one seems to know why.
Hope there's no one from Tory here; lovely place.
But more commonly all around the island, they were known as the sunfish.
And this represents their habit of basking on the surface when the sun is out.
There's great concern that basking sharks are depleted all throughout the world.
Some people say it's not population decline.
It might be a change in the distribution of plankton.
And it's been suggested that basking sharks would make fantastic indicators of climate change, because they're basically continuous plankton recorders They're now listed as vulnerable under the IUCN.
There's also moves in Europe to try and stop catching them.
There's now a ban on catching them and even landing them and even landing ones that are caught accidentally.
They're not protected in Ireland.
In fact, they have no legislative status in Ireland whatsoever, despite our importance for the species and also the historical context within which basking sharks reside.
We know very little about them.
And most of what we do know is based on their habit of coming to the surface.
And we try to guess what they're doing from their behavior on the surface.
I only found out last year, at a conference on the Isle of Man, where basking sharks regularly, frequently and predictably come to the surface to "bask."
And it's a fantastic opportunity in science to see and experience basking sharks, and they are awesome creatures.
And it gives us a fantastic opportunity to actually study them, to get access to them.
So what we've been doing a couple of years -- but last year was a big year -- is we started tagging sharks of sight fidelity and movements and things like that.
So we concentrated mainly in North Donegal and West Kerry as the two areas where I was mainly active.
And we tagged them very simply, not very hi-tech, with a big, long pole.
This is a beachcaster rod with a tag on the end.
Go up in your boat and tag the shark.
And we were very effective.
We tagged 105 sharks last summer.
We got 50 in three days off Inishowen Peninsula.
Half the challenge is to get access, is to be in the right place at the right time.
But it's a very simple and easy technique.
I'll show you what they look like.
We use a pole camera on the boat to actually film shark.
One is to try and work out the gender of the shark.
We also deployed a couple of satellite tags, so we did use hi-tech stuff as well.
These are archival tags.
So what they do is they store the data.
A satellite tag only works when the air is clear of the water and can send a signal to the satellite.
And of course, sharks, fish, are underwater most of the time.
So this tag actually works out the locations of shark depending on the timing and the setting of the sun, plus water temperature and depth.
And you have to kind of reconstruct the path.
What happens is that you set the tag to detach from the shark after a fixed period, in this case it was eight months, and literally to the day the tag popped off, drifted up, said hello to the satellite and sent, not all the data, but enough data for us to use.
the behavior and the movements when they're under water.
And here's a couple of maps that we've done.
That one, you can see that we tagged both off Kerry.
And basically it spent all its time, the last eight months, in Irish waters.
Christmas day it was out on the shelf edge.
And here's one that we haven't ground-truthed it yet with sea surface temperature and water depth, but again, the second shark kind of spent most of its time in and around the Irish Sea.
Colleagues from the Isle of Man last year actually tagged one shark that went from the Isle of Man all the way out to Nova Scotia in about 90 days.
That's nine and a half thousand kilometers. We never thought that happened.
Another colleague in the States tagged about 20 sharks off Massachusetts, and his tags didn't really work.
All he knows is where he tagged them and he knows where they popped off.
And his tags popped off in the Caribbean and even in Brazil.
And we thought that basking sharks were temperate animals and only lived in our latitude.
But in actual fact, they're obviously crossing the Equator as well.
So very simple things like that, we're trying to learn about basking sharks.
One thing that I think is a very surprising and strange thing is just how low the genetic diversity of sharks are.
Now I'm not a geneticist, so I'm not going to pretend to understand the genetics.
And that's why it's great to have collaboration.
Whereas I'm a field person, I get panic attacks if I have to spend too many hours in a lab with a white coat on -- take me away.
So we can work with geneticists who understand that.
So when they looked at the genetics of basking sharks, they found that the diversity was incredibly low.
If you look at the first line really, you can see that all these different shark species are all quite similar.
I think this means basically that they're all sharks and they've come from a common ancestry. If you look at nucleotide diversity, which is more genetics that are passed on through parents, was an order of magnitude less diversity than other shark species.
And you see that this work was done in 2006.
Before 2006, we had no idea of the genetic variability of basking sharks.
We had no idea, did they distinguish into different populations?
Were there subpopulations?
what the population size is and the status of the animals.
So Les Noble in Aberdeen kind of found this a bit unbelievable really.
So he did another study which are much more expensive, much more time consuming, and, to his surprise, came up with almost identical results.
So it does seem to be that basking sharks, for some reason, have incredibly low diversity.
And it's thought maybe it was a bottleneck, a genetic bottleneck thought to be 12,000 years ago, and this has caused a very low diversity. And yet, if you look at whale sharks, which is the other plankton eating large shark, its diversity is much greater.
So it doesn't really make sense at all.
They found that there was no genetic differentiation between any of the world's oceans of basking sharks.
So even though basking sharks are found throughout the world, from one from the Pacific, the Atlantic, New Zealand, or from Ireland, South Africa.
They all basically seem the same.
But again, it's kind of surprising. You wouldn't really expect that.
I don't understand this. I don't pretend to understand this.
And I suspect most geneticists don't understand it either, but they produce the numbers.
So you can actually estimate the population size based on the diversity of the genetics.
And Rus Hoelzel came up with an effective population size: 8,200 animals.
That's it.
8,000 animals in the world.
You're thinking, "That's just ridiculous. No way."
So Les did a finer study and he found out it came out about 9,000.
And using different microsatellites gave the different results.
But the average of all these studies came out -- the mean is about 5,000, which I personally don't believe, but then I am a skeptic.
But even if you toss a few numbers around, you're probably talking of an effective population of about 20,000 animals.
Do you remember how many they killed off Achill there in the 70s and the 50s?
So what it tells us actually is that there's actually a risk of extinction of this species In fact, of those 20,000, 8,000 were thought to be females.
There's only 8,000 basking shark females in the world?
I don't know. I don't believe it.
The problem with this is they were constrained with samples.
They didn't get enough samples to really explore the genetics in enough detail.
So where do you get samples from for your genetic analysis?
Well one obvious source is dead sharks, Dead sharks washed up.
We might get two or three dead sharks washed up in Ireland a year, if we're kind of lucky.
Another source would be fisheries bycatch.
We were getting quite a few caught in surface drift nets.
That's banned now, and that'll be good news for the sharks.
And some are caught in nets, in trawls.
This is a shark that was actually landed in Howth just before Christmas, illegally, because you're not allowed to do that under E.U. law, and was actually sold for eight euros a kilo as shark steak.
They even put a recipe up on the wall, until they were told this was illegal.
And they actually did get a fine for that.
So if you look at all those studies I showed you, the total number of samples worldwide is 86 at present.
So it's very important work, and they can ask some really good questions, and they can tell us about population size and subpopulations and structure, but they're constrained by lack of samples.
Now when we were out tagging our sharks, this is how we tagged them on the front of a RIB -- get in there fast -- occasionally the sharks do react.
And on one occasion when we were up in Malin Head up in Donegal, a shark smacked the side of the boat with his tail, more, I think, in startle to the fact that a boat came near it, rather than the tag going in.
And that was fine. We got wet. No problem.
And then when myself and Emmett got back to Malin Head, to the pier, I noticed some black slime on the front of the boat.
And I remembered -- I used to spend a lot of time out on commercial fishing boats -- I remember fishermen telling me they can always tell when a basking shark's been caught in the net because it leaves this black slime behind.
So I was thinking that must have come from the shark.
Now we had an interest in getting tissue samples for genetics because we knew they were very valuable.
And we would use conventional methods -- I have a crossbow, you see the crossbow in my hand there, which we use to sample whales and dolphins for genetic studies as well.
So I tried that, I tried many techniques.
All it was doing was breaking my arrows because the shark skin is just so strong.
There was no way we were going to get a sample from that.
So that wasn't going to work.
So when I saw the black slime on the bow of the boat, I thought, "If you take what you're given in this world ..."
So I scraped it off.
And I had a little tube with alcohol in it to send to the geneticists.
So I scraped the slime off and I sent it off to Aberdeen.
And I said, "You might try that."
And they sat on it for months actually.
It was only because we had a conference on the Isle of Man.
But I kept emailing, saying, "Have you had a chance to look at my slime yet?"
And he was like, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Later, later, later."
Anyway he thought he'd better do it, because I never met him before and he might lose face if he hadn't done the thing I sent him.
And he was amazed that they actually got DNA from the slime.
And they amplified it and they tested it and they found, yes, this was actually basking shark DNA, which was got from the slime.
And so he was all very excited.
It became known as Simon's shark slime.
And I thought, "Hey, you know, I can build on this."
So we thought, okay, we're going to try to get out and get some slime.
So having spent three and a half thousand on satellite tags, in my local hardware store in Kilrush for a mop handle and even less money on some oven cleaners.
And I wrapped the oven cleaner around the end of the mop handle and was desperate, desperate to have an opportunity to get some sharks.
Now this was into August now, and normally sharks peak at June, July.
And you rarely see them.
You can only rarely be in the right place to find sharks into August.
So we were desperate.
So we rushed out to Blasket as soon as we heard there were sharks there and managed to find some sharks.
So by just rubbing the mop handle down the shark as it swam under the boat -- you see, here's a shark that's running under the boat here -- we managed to collect slime.
And here it is.
Look at that lovely, black shark slime.
And in about half an hour, we got five samples, five individual sharks, were sampled using Simon's shark slime sampling system.
I've been working on whales and dolphins in Ireland for 20 years now, and they're kind of a bit more dramatic.
You probably saw the humpback whale footage that we got there a month or two ago off County Wexford.
And you always think you might have some legacy you can leave the world behind.
And I was thinking of humpback whales breaching and dolphins.
But hey, sometimes these things are sent to you and you just have to take them when they come.
So this is possibly going to be my legacy -- Simon's shark slime.
So we got more money this year to carry on collecting more and more samples.
And one thing that is kind of very useful is that we use a pole cameras -- this is my colleague Joanne with a pole camera -- where you can actually look underneath the shark.
And what you're trying to look at is the males have claspers, which kind of dangle out behind the back of the shark.
So you can quite easily tell the gender of the shark.
So if we can tell the gender of the shark before we sample it, we can tell the geneticist this was taken from a male or a female.
Because at the moment, they actually have no way genetically of telling the difference between a male and a female, which I found absolutely staggering, because they don't know what primers to look for.
And being able to tell the gender of a shark has got very important for things like policing the trade in basking shark and other species through societies, because it is illegal to trade any sharks.
And they are caught and they are on the market.
So as a field biologist, you just want to get encounters with these animals.
You want to learn as much as you can.
They're often quite brief. They're often very seasonally constrained.
And you just want to learn as much as you can as soon as you can.
But isn't it fantastic that you can then offer these samples and opportunities to other disciplines, such as geneticists, who can gain so much more from that.
So as I said, these things are sent to you in strange ways. Grab them while you can.
I'll take that as my scientific legacy.
Hopefully I might get something a bit more dramatic and romantic before I die.
But for the time being, thank you for that.
And keep an eye out for sharks.
If you're more interested, we have a basking shark website now just set up.
So thank you and thank you for listening. | {
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èŠãããã ããã | With the blond youthâDenâescorting me, I arrived at the senior magic academy Methuselah branchâs board chairmanâs room.
Den was originally an Ogre, but his height was quite a bit shorter now, and his horns were also inconspicuously small. His darker skin color had grown lighter, his hair grew, and you could now call him a fair-skinned golden hair pretty boy.
With Asteâs, or God Hasturâs education, his butler skills were quite good. You could call him a perfect person for this job. When someone like that escorted me, who looked graceful at a glance, of course, weâd stand out.
Even as we passed through the corridor, everyone was staring at us. I removed my eyepatch to make things more amiable, but standing out this much was beyond my calculations... I mean, the fact that Den had turned into such a pretty boy itself was unaccounted for.
Arriving at the chairmanâs office, Den knocked on the door four times in my stead and awaited the response.
âWho is it?â
âI am Nicolle who is transferring to this school starting today. I arrived to greet the board chairman.â
âAh, yes, I have heard as such. Do enter.â
At my reply that I tried to make as modest and polite as possible, a somewhat arrogant-sounding voice answered back. Then again, the board chairman was one of the most influential people in this academy so that was only natural. Incidentally, the most influential would be Cain Methuselah Lamech.
He was technically a student, but given his position of being the Dukeâs eldest son, and considering the money he would have if those dark rumors are true, he probably easily surpassed the board chairman.
âExcuse us.â
With permission, Den opened the door, and I headed inside with his escort.
The interior of the office was, different from Maxwellâs, full of luxurious decorations. There was a painting probably drawn by a famous painter, a full-body armor displayed next to the entrance, and such, giving off a sort of an authoritative feeling.
Honestly, it was simply in bad taste.
Without letting my impressions show, I arrived at the desk and slightly bent my knee with a bow in the so-called curtsy bow that ladies did. It was something I learned from Maxwellâs education, and something I perfected after Letinaâs intensive training.
âPleased to make your acquaintance. I am Lyell and Mariaâs daughter, Nicole. I have no peerage and as such no surname. This is my attendant Den.â
âYes, I am Jack Olson. I have heard of you. It seems you have made a name in Berith.â
âOh, the riot incident? I was merely trying to stop it with everything I had.â
I moved my gaze away, trying not to meet his eyes as much as possible, and acted modestly.
This was because Den claimed that it was better to use my magic eye for a good first impression. Which was certainly more convenient for the investigation if it made everyone around more amiable. However, my eyes were too powerful.
Even if I casually voiced my desire, they would twist the thoughts of the other person and force them to act.
Seeing my strange attitude, I sensed Olson to be frowning. Thinking I overdid it I was about to raise my face, but Den cut into the conversation.
âMy apologies, board chairman. Please allow me to voice my humble opinion.â
âYes, what is it?â
âMy lady Nicoleâs right eye is weak and lacks pigment as you may tell, so I would like to ask permission for her to wear this eyepatch.â
âOh, just that? But why not wear it from the start?â
âShe is not injured, so it would be rude to hide her face during the first meeting, especially towards someone of higher standing... Those were my ladyâs wishes.â
âHmm, I suppose that makes sense.â
In reality, it was just a trick to leave a good impression. But there was no need to actually say that. Letâs leave this to Denâs quick-wittedness.
Then Den started to fluently recite my strong points to the chairman. About how compassionate, how beautiful, and how honest at heart I was. Frankly, I was embarrassed just listening to it.
âD-Den, please leave it at that...â
I stopped him with a red face. I put a hand to his elbow while fidgeting, so I probably looked like a well-bred young lady. In fact, I saw that chairman Olsonâs face was looking a little flushed.
âExcuse me. Then Lady Nicole, if I may.â
Saying that, Den turned my face a little up and put the eyepatch on me.
Being originally an ogre, he was still a bit taller than me even though he had grown shorter. He was probably about cm tall now. Because of that, I had to look a little up when he was touching my face.
His once boorish fingers had grown slender now, and once he attached the eyepatch, he brushed past my face and arranged my hair.
His fingers were tickly so I ended up leaking a voice.
âNgh...â
âYou two, please refrain from such conduct inside the academy.â
âEh?â
âI am saying that please do the lovers talk inside your dorm room. Heroesâ daughter or not, itâs slovenly.â
âT-T-Thatâs preposterous!! Den is my attendant! We are not in such a relationship!â
âReally now? It sure seemed like that to me.â
âBoard chairman. My apologies but Lady Nicole and I are rather ill-suited. It would affect Lady Nicoleâs honor, so I ask that you not voice such misunderstandings.â
âHmm... It would certainly be troublesome to incur Lord Lyell and Lady Mariaâs displeasures.â
âYes, thank you for your understanding.â
After that, the board chairman relayed the necessary information to us and we finally headed to the dormitory. Normally weâd be heading to the classroom now, but organizing the room came first.
We were infiltrating for a short term, but weâd be living for more than a few days there. There was a need to organize it to a degree. | {
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俺ãã¡ã¯ããæšæž¬ããæŽçªãžæ¥ãã ã®ã ã£ãã | We prepared the equipment to head towards the forest. That said, we came to this town to relax. As such, we hadnât brought our proper equipment with us.
Both me and Cortina chose easy-to-move clothes and only brought minimal equipment with us. I equipped my piano wires, yarn strings and dagger, and I was all set.
âThis makes me a little uneasy, in the end.â
âCanât be helped. People normally donât bring weapons at hot springs.â
âYou have that dagger at least, Nicole. I only have this ring...â
Cortina only had one ring that aided with Magic. Other than that, she was pretty much in traveling clothes. Heading towards the cavern where the member of the Dragon raceâweak or notâwas said to live, obviously made her feel helpless.
âCortina, wanna use this?â
âThe dagger? No, you should use it, Nicole. Iâm not good with swords.â
Cortinaâs hand-to-hand combat was basically a defensive style centered around long staffs. Daggers required more skill than it seemed, so it was certainly more effective if I used it instead.
âBut...â
âIâll just buy a staff on the way. This village is close to where monsters show up, so they should be selling some of those. Even if they donât, a trekking staff would do as well.â
When it came to defense, sturdiness mattered above all else. Even a simple wooden staff could become very sturdy with her Interference Magic.
âFinia, Michelle, Iâm leaving the house to you.â
âYes, please leave it to me.â
âYou got it!â
Michelle made a fist pump while holding her longbow. I didnât think anything was going to happen to them inside the town, but I still warned just in case since me and Cortina, the strongest two among us, were leaving them alone.
As we were leaving the inn, Jessica saw us off while looking worried.
âThank you very much, Lady Cortina. Iâm leaving my son to you.â
âWe donât know if heâs really there, so please donât get your hope up too much. But donât abandon hope.â
âYes, heâs surely fooling around somewhere as always...â
She showed us a hollow smile, but her eyes were clearly filled with worry. She was forcibly suppressing her emotions in front of Cortina, but it didnât seem like she would hold out for long at this rate.
âLetâs go, Cortina. We need to hurry up.â
âYouâre right. Well then, weâll be back soon. Once again, please donât do anything rash.â
âI understand.â
By rash, she meant things like heading towards the cavern by herself. If we donât return as fast as we can, itâs quite likely that she would make such arbitrary decisions.
Thus, we hastened our pace towards the cavern in the forest.
The forest was gloomy and hard to see. Cortina who barely had any scouting skills couldnât be trusted with the guarding duty. As such, I took the front and surveyed the surroundings. But then, I discovered something peculiar.
âThere are footprints here.â
âFootprints? Could it be Mikeyâs?â
They were the prints of greaves that fully covered the leg. Furthermore, they even had spikes on them. This could be either a soldier or a vanguard Adventurer that wore it by choice. But it was definitely not something a mischievous villager kid would wear.
âIt would be... Quite odd for them to be a soldier. There shouldnât be any deployed here.â
âYeah. So probably an Adventurer. And several of themâ
âSeveral?â
There were three kinds of footprints. Which meant, there were at least three Adventurers in this forest. And their footprints were leading towards the inner parts of the forest.
âAre they heading deeper? Could they be aiming for the Carbuncle too?â
âI wonder. My source of information is quite well hidden, so I donât think thatâs it.â
That white thing was still a God. Or rather, she was above other gods when it came to underhandedness. I doubt she wouldâve leaked such information so easily. Which would mean, there was another source of information.
âWhat about the possibility that itâs not the Carbuncle they are aiming for?â
âAh, thatâs right! Wasnât there something about a Named Dragon appearing here?â
âAre they planning to defeat a Dragon?â
No matter how you put it, defeating a Dragon, a named one at that, with just three people was nothing short of impossible if you didnât have some amazing skill. Cortina, however, shot down my opinion.
âThatâs not it. There should be a much easier way to make money.â
âMake money...?â
âAccording to Bill and the rest, that Dragon comes to take baths, right? Iâm not sure how much it loves bathing, but if itâs doing it that frequently, it might not be strange for its scale or two to have fallen off.â
âAh, thatâs what you mean.â
Dragons were also reptiles. Not to mention, their regenerative powers were crazy strong. Even if their scales came off after a harsh washing session, they would regenerate immediately.
If there were indeed such scale fragments left there, then you could make quite a bit of profit just by collecting them. There were many uses for scales of a high-ranking Named Dragon.
âIf the Adventurers that set out to look for the Dragonâs dropped items were to come across the Carbuncle, what do you think they would do?â
âThey would most definitely hunt it down.â
Cortina guessed the Adventurersâ goal from Billâs conversation and hypothesized the worst kind of scenario. I replied with my honest thoughts to it. While it was an ordinary answer, it still said enough about the situation.
âAnd what if Mikey were to witness it?â
âThey would most definitely kill him to seal his mouth.â
âI think so too. Looks like we really need to hurry.â
Judging as such, we hurried towards the cavern. | {
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çµæžãžã®äžå®ã¯EUåžæ°ã ãã®ãã®ã§ã¯ãªãã20äžçŽããã«ã³ã¯äŸå€çãªæŽåã®èå°ã§ãã£ãã第äžæ¬¡äžç倧æŠãžã®åæŠããææªãšå€¥ãã倧è殺ãããã€ããããããŠã¢ã«ã¡ãã¢äººã®éå£è殺ããã£ãŠãæªæã«æºã¡ãæåŸã®ãªã¹ãã³åžåœã®æ®å¿ãªèéã¯æ¶æ»
ããã | Economic fears are not the only concern for EU citizens. Turkey was the theater of exceptional violence in the twentieth century: its participation in WWI fueled hatred and gigantic massacres, with the genocide of the Armenians the last vicious spasm of the Ottoman Empireâs brutal demise. | {
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çè¿ã? äœãã®æåã®ããã ããšãããããæŠéã«åãæ¿ããããã«æ±ºå¿ãã€ããã®ããª? | The demons were shuddering. After all, having assumed that it would be a dead set result, this kind of result was thrust before them.
On the other hand, Ms. Tilea was all smiles. She was getting ahead of herself. Her attitude was incredibly filled with confidence now.
âMs. Tilea.â
âJessica. Huhu, these guys arenât a big deal. Theyâre a bunch of simpletons. At first I was scared because I heard it was a death game, but if this is all, it looks like weâll be fine.â
âMn, so relax. Right now, itâs like Iâve been possessed by the Gambling Warrior Akagin. I can see it. I can see through it all! Their thoughts are completely visible to me! FUHUHAAHAAHAAHAAHA!â
Or so she declared full of confidence, but what I suspected painted a different story. Anyway, letâs see if Iâm right. While the demons were still stunned, I snuck into the Field.
Inside, the corpses all showed expressions of disbelief. While ignoring the stench that assaulted my nose, I went to investigate the helmets worn by the demons, and the swords that pierced through them.
Uu, this is so grossss~
While enduring the nausea, I checked them one by one. It felt like the corpses were staring at me with their widened eyes. I felt like I would faint if I looked back, so I just desperately endured as I checked.
The resultâ
First match. Ms. Tileaâs sword was fire, and the demonâs helmet was fire. Even though they should have been neutralized as the same attribute... Ms. Tilea killed him in one strike.
Second match. Ms. Tileaâs helmet was fire. The demonâs sword was water. Even though it should have been a Critical Hit, Ms. Tilea neutralized it. To have defended against a strengthened elemental attack, just how hard is she.
In the same way, I investigated the third, and fourth match...
I found that Ms. Tilea defended against three Critical Hits, while she attacked two No Damages. In terms of predicting the opponent, it was a crushing defeat for her.
Haha, in front of Ms. Tilea, rules donât mean a thing, huh. Although I had guessed this, it really is too ridiculous.
What on earth is she?
Sheâs definitely no human. Then, a beastman, elf, or perhaps a dragonoid? But her physical characteristics donât match either of them, and her completely extraordinary combat strength is closer to a demonâs.
Then, a demon?
Hm~mm, but the attribute I feel from her is closer to light than dark. So I guess she really is a Heroâs descendant? She herself denied it, but itâs the one that makes the most sense. Her intelligence is one thing, but the rest of her abilities are like the stuff of legends.
While thinking about the questions Iâve been having this whole time, I left the room to find Ms. Tilea provoking the demons.
âWell? Whoâs my next opponent?â
âH-, How dare you! Then I, the second in command shall...â
âWait, Gilgant. This is the first time in a while that an opponent has excited my heart. This girl is worthy of being my opponent!â
âThen Ser Horus, you yourself shall be participating?â
âUmu. I shall personally bring the hammer down on her.â
âI see. So the big boss himself has finally come out, huh.â
âHuhu, girly, may I ask your name?â
âItâs Tilea.â
âThen Tilea. Letâs play a game where we use a mana absorption tool.â
âA mana absorption tool?â
âIndeed. Itâs exactly as it sounds; a machine that absorbs mana. Our next game will feature one. We shall use mana as chips to play our game!â
Mana as chips!?
Thereâs no doubt that no matter the game, having more chips gives you an advantage. Demons already begin with high mana. That makes it a handicap from the very start. My mana would be out of the question. It wouldnât even be a game if your chips ran out right away. On the other hand, Ms. Tilea overwhelms them in the mana department.
But as for using her head...
Already, I can see in my mind, the scene of her mountain of chips disappearing in a blink.
âMs. Tilea, weâre at a disadvantage here.â
âY-, Yeah. Using mana as chips is just way too advantageous to them.â
âFumu. You are correct in your discontent. Very well then, in exchange, you two shall choose the game. In that case, if you come up with the right rules, even you have a chance of winning.â
âOhh~? Is it fine for me to choose? No matter what kind of game?â
âIndeed. As long as there are no overwhelming faults with it, any game is fine.â
âI see... Then itâs going to be a mahjong match!â
MargeâOng!? What kind of game is that?
Ms. Tilea suddenly proposed the name of some game Iâd never heard of. Itâs not like I think I know of all the games in the world, but âMargeâOngâ is just so alien sounding.
Thatâs fine in and of itself, but Iâm just hoping that itâs not another one of Ms. Tilea running wild as usual...
âMargeâOng you say? I am a man proficient in all fields, and yet I have never heard of this MargeâOng. Interesting. So what kind of game is this? It is a game suggested by you, who has overwhelmed my Wisdom Unit. I am truly intrigued.â
At Horusâ prompt, Ms. Tilea began to explain the rules of âMargeâOngâ to us.
From what she said, âMargeâOngâ is a four-way competition. Four players sit around a table, and tiles called âhaiâ are gathered from a total pool of in order to form combinations called âyakuâ. This is done numerous times, and points are gathered as it happens. The results of the game are determined at the end of the game, when the points are tallied.
A-, Amazing.
From what I heard, not only does âMargeâOngâ have a well developed set of rules, you can tell that itâs a very strategic game. An interesting game that fits gambling perfectly. If âMargeâOngâ spread in the capital, Iâll bet everybody would love it too.
But still, it was shocking that Ms. Tilea knew the rules of âMargeâOngâ by heart. Considering how bad she is at using her head, itâs quite a rare feat.
Could it be that Ms. Tilea was really into âMargeâOngâ back in her hometown?
âFumu, what a truly interesting game! Very well, the next game shall be this MargeâOng.â
âBut well, although I was the one who recommended it, what are we going to do about the mat and tiles?â
âIt is but a simple matter for us to create them through magic.â
Horus created the âtilesâ, âriichi stickâ and other things that she mentioned were used in âMargeâOngâ. It was an incredibly high level use of creation magic. I thought so about the swords and helmets too, but demons really do use a level of magic that humans canât compare to.
And then...
âTheyâre done. As âMargeâOngâ is a four player game, this shall be a tag match.â
âJessica, Iâll help you out, so could you participate too?â
âY-, Yes.â
âThanks. Also, do you understand the rules of mahjong?â
âYes, more or less. Only, Iâm a little uneasy about the scoring for the âyakuâ, so could I trouble you to write them on paper later?â
âGot it. Are you guys fine too?â
âWho do you think you are asking? Do not make light of the Wisdom General! Hearing just one explanation is enough for rules of this level.â
As expected of Wisdom General Horus. It seems heâs noticed the nature of âMargeâOngâ, and is already forming strategies too. I desperately tried to memorize the things written on Ms. Tileaâs memo.
âYes, Iâm fine with that.â
âKu ku, your attitude is praiseworthy. But are you fine with that? The mana of a human will run out in no time. Once you run out of mana, it begins to take your vitality, and once you run out of that as well there awaits only death, you know.â
âIâm completely fine, I said!â
âHuhu, Jessica, if this were any other game, you might be right, but I never lose in mahjong. I may look like this, but I used to be famous at the game center under the name âShioda the Stripperâ you know.â
Shiyodah Thess Rippah? Geme Sentah? What the heck is she on about? Ms. Tilea is talking about stuff I donât understand again.
âMs. Tilea, it looks like youâre confident but the opponent is on a different level this time. Even if theyâre beginners at âMargeâOngâ, it doesnât mean...â
âJessica, your worries are needless. From the earlier game, Iâm already sure of it. Thereâs actually nothing to fear about demons. Even if I donât have much mana, as long as I keep winning, thereâs no problem.â
Aahh, itâs no good. Because she thinks she won all the matches earlier, Ms. Tilea is on an unstoppable rampage.
What should I do? Should I just let her play?
Hmmmm... Well, I guess thatâs fine. Ms. Tileaâs chip (mana) is way beyond the norm. She seems confident in âMargeâOngâ too, and as long as she doesnât lose too badly, it should be fine. And also, this time itâs a tag match so Iâll be playing as well. If anything happens, Iâll follow up for her.
And so, the match began at the table with Wisdom General Horus, and Vice-General Gilgant. We shuffled the âtilesâ as we began forming strategies. Ms. Tilea began as âEastâ or the dealer.
Ms. Tilea, staying as the first dealer is really important, you know.
But my wishes came to nothing, because she immediately lost the dealership.
But still, in just these few turns, I really felt the depth of this game. I already had a hint from listening to the rules, but after playing it myself, I became keenly aware of it. When the opponent is a âtileâ away from completion, itâs standard to cut your losses, but itâs also important to decide how aggressively you go about things. And itâs difficult to determine when somebody is one more tile from completing a winning hand.
Horusâ discarded tiles. In âMargeâOngâ, the discarded tiles are an important source of information on the states of the other players. You observe their discarded tiles, the âhandâ you guess theyâre building, and their facial expressions. In the th round, it was hard to tell if he was âa tile away from completionâ from his discarded tiles. Even if I assume that heâs âa tile awayâ, I think that âwinning with a hand composed only of suited tiles ranging from -â is the best that he can do, but...
Uuu, itâs impossible. Itâs too hard to tell with confidence. Horus is combining his wiliness into his plots and running circles around us. Not just that, the Vice General Gilgant is more intelligent than I am. The way heâs handling the âtileâ is efficient to the extreme.
I frantically tried to read their âhandsâ while hiding my own information, but they were steps ahead of me.
Uu, weâre stuck in their pace for this game as well.
âItâs here, here, heeeeere! Hell yeah!â
I heard Ms. Tilea talking to herself. I-, Itâs no good. Sheâs an open book. Sheâs definitely in âa tile away from completionâ. Looking at her discarded tiles... Sheâs probably waiting for a âryanman(,000)â or an âuuman(50,000)â.
Aahh aahh, Ms. Tilea arranges all her tiles from highest to lowest, so you can completely read her âhandâ. At first, Horus and the others all thought that Ms. Tilea was a sage, so they assumed that it was all an act.
But... they know now, donât they?
Maybe they thought that she won in Elemental Predict due to pure luck. The truth is different though.
As expected, Ms. Tilea declared âriichiâ. But only a little later, Ms. Tilea received a direct hit from Horus.
ââRonâ, âPinfu, Tanyao, Iipeikou...â Itâs âManganâ!â
Ms. Tilea screamed, before dropping her shoulders in defeat. I drew my mouth to her ears.
âM-, Ms. Tilea, are you okay?â
âHa ha, I-, Iâm fine, fine. Huhu, geez, w-, with this handicap, the game is finally worth playing. Ahaha, hahah...â
Ms. Tileaâs eyes have become dots.
Ever since Horus became the dealer, heâs been sniping Ms. Tilea. Most of her âskoring stikâ is gone now, so I have to try my best or else!
Then, in the next game...
After a few rounds, Horus placed the âriichi stickâ on the table.
ââRiichiâ!â
A âriichiâ from the dealer. I donât want to take this directly. I looked carefully at Horusâ âhandâ. I get the feeling that something big is coming. A âmanganâ, no, a âhanemanâ-class âyakuâ I expect.
Itâs vexing, but weâd better fold.
I just hope Ms. Tilea follows...
âKan!â
Eh-!? I doubted my ears. Ms. Tilea suddenly shouted âkanâ.
Ms. Tilea, do you understand the situation? Horus just declared âriichiâ.
Speaking of which, Ms. Tilea has been meaninglessly declaring âkanâ for a while now...
âAnother kan!â
Eh? Eh? What the heck is this woman doing? I have no clue anymore. This is bad. At this rate, Horus is going to raise.
And then, just as I expected...
âI see. âRonâ, âRiichi, Tanyao, Pinfu... 2 Doraâ and then... Ohh. âUradoraâ as well. Itâs a âBaimanâ.â
Not âGAHAHâ!
I couldnât bear it, so I declared a time-out, and pulled Ms. Tilea away from the table to talk.
âMs. Tilea, please cut it out already. You need to think properly!â
âU-, Umm... Y-, Yeah, I am, sort of.â
âThen why did you âkanâ! He had already declared âriichiâ. Why did you go out of your way to âkanâ when it had no strategic value, and only increased the risk? Or could it be that you actually had some reason to use âkanâ each time?â
âU-, Umm, well, as a rinshan user, I just kinda...â
âHahh? Rinshan user, as in the âyakuâ âRinshan Kaihouâ? Why did you do something risky just for the sake of such a cheap yaku!â
âJ-, Jessica, your eyes are a little scary.â
âDo you really understand the situation? Ms. Tilea, at this rate, weâre going to âBustâ, you know.â
âI-, Is it that bad...?â
â...Ms. Tilea, the situation is extremely bad. At the moment, weâre definitely minus 30,000 points. In other words, weâve lost 30,000 units of mana.â
âT-, Then... could it be that weâve lost an active adventurerâs worth of mana?â
âMs. Tilea, your thinking is too naive. The number of adventurers whose mana exceeds 10,000 in this world, can be counted with your fingers.â
âEh? Really?â
âYes. The S-ranked Captain Remilia is roughly 20,000 mana.â
âT-, That canât be... W-, W-W-What do we do?â
âWell you see, at this rate, weâll be at least minus 100,000 by the end of this game. Do you understand what minus 100,000 means?â
âW-, What does it mean?â
âIt means that the mana weâll have lost is equal to the legendary founder of magic, Camilla! Also, Ms. Tilea, this is a little hard to say, but Horusâ pride has been hurt because his subordinates lost. If you consider how motivated he is to win this, it wonât stop anywhere near 100,000 mana!â
Ah-, uh oh. I may have threatened her a little much. Ms. Tilea just broke. But, just how much mana does Ms. Tilea actually have? Definitely over 10,000. I get the feeling that she might even have 100,000. Iâm a beginner myself, so anything above 10,000 is just too powerful for me to measure. Perhaps even if we lose the game, Ms. Tilea will be totally fine. But games really are impossible for Ms. Tilea. I should try and convince her to change strategies.
âMs. Tilea, thereâs no point in continuing this game any more. Letâs give up!â
âAwawawa, I-, I guess youâre right. Itâs just like you say, Jessica. At this rate, itâs obvious that we wonât win normally.â
âYes, thatâs why battle should be ourââ
âI-Iâll do it. Itâs time to do it. Itâs down to my final plan, the Swallow Reversal!
âSwallow Reversalâ? Apparently itâs a technique of some sort. Anyway, I wonder if I succeeded in getting her to battle. | {
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ããè¡ææ³¢ã®ãããªç©ãçŸããããšæããšã倧æšã«è¡ææ³¢ãåœäžããŠåŽ©ãèœã¡ãã | They remained hugging each other for a while until Luthors entered the room, dispelling the subspace magic.
Schenna let go of Grana flusteredly as Luthors drew closer to Grana.
âWhat are you doing to Schenna you *******!â
âNow now, you found out I was the Demon King quite easily.â
âYou might look the same as her, but you canât hide that darkness in your eyes.â
âIt really shows you used to be a dark knight in Gafenna. Youâre used to dealing with darkness. Iâm sure your late older sister is also happy seeing you mature from up there.â
Grana tried to mock Luthors, but she ignored it and ran to Schenna.
âSchenna, are you okay? Did he do anything to you?â
âIâm okay, but thanks for worrying. I was only receiving some life counseling from him.â
Schenna awkwardly explained what happened and Grana left the room while shaking his head.
â...Iâm sorry this happened even while I was this close. If he ever tries to do anything weird with you again please call me.â
Luthors then followed after Grana, almost chasing him. Her angered voice then rang from downstairs, and Kishana who had just returned from the hot springs had to mediate between them to calm things down. Then the voices were cut off, probably because Grana had used that subspace magic again and was repeating the same process on Kishana and Luthors, or so Schenna thought.
Schenna sat again at her desk and resumed her calculations of the earnings of the day. Then it was silent for the rest of the night.
The next day, Schenna went out in front of the restaurant to follow her daily routine of swinging her sword.
Maybe she was just imagining it, but she felt lighter, her body was easier to move, almost as if wings had sprouted on her back.
âGood morning. Training your swordsmanship?â
âOh, Grana. Ever since I got here Iâve had fewer opportunities to practice some swings you see. I still do this to forge my body and mind every now and then.â
Granaâs head, still taking Schennaâs appearance, had peeked out from a window on the second floor as he greeted her.
After that, his relationship with Kishana had become closer, but Luthors was still constantly wary of him.
âI bet you noticed your body was easier to move? I know it isnât much, but as thanks for employing me I decided to increase the abilities of you all.â
He had probably done that while they were inside the subspace.
As Schenna kept swinging her sword, she felt something deep inside her heart.
âSo youâve started to be able to use a Saint Core I see. Humans have a form of life energy called a Saint Core in them. It was by the skillful use of it that Reesha and Luthors went through battlefields and earned their recognition.â
That also meant that back when Schenna met Luthors for the first time and crossed swords with her, even when Luthors was poisoned she manifested more strength than Schenna, and that was because of the advantage given by the Saint Core. When Reesha came to stop her, a strange aura had emanated from her as well, and the way Reesha found Schenna when she was captured by Karyu was also an application of the Saint Core.
âIâll accompany you on true battles as well, so swing that sword as freely as you want.â
Grana jumped down from the second floor and landed on the ground as if it was nothing, then he watched Schenna.
Schenna followed his order and swung her sword. She thought she saw something like a shockwave coming out from its tip, and an instant later something hit a tree that was ahead of her, splitting it in two. | {
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俺以å€ã®äººãã¡ã®éã§ãç©ãããªè«ç¬ãå§ãŸãããã泚æã¯ãæžã§ãã?俺ã«æ®ãããéžæè¢ã¯ãããã€ãåãã§!ããšè¿äºããã以å€æ®ãããŠããªãããã ã | ãRinos, Master calls for youã
There was a sudden summon from Elsa-sama. Well then, I wonder why, I canât think of a reason. But she never calls for me without any reason. She is not the person that uses me for trivial matters.
ãRinos is here, Masterã
I knocked the door and announced my arrival. After a while:
ãEnterã
Entering with excuse me, I became speechless once I was inside. Unexpectedly, there was his highness the prince inside. I regained my composure and respectfully kneeled.
ãI apologize for my rudenessã
ãDo not stay on ceremony so much. I just sneaked out today. Please standã
ãIâm grateful. Then, I will standã
ãThis time, his highness came to this mansion to ask for Rinosâ help. Please assist him with all your powerã
ãYou waste your words on me. If I can help his highness and Master then I will do whatever I can. Although unworthy, I will strive to assist as much as I canã
ãIs he really years old? The Versam family is frightening if it can educate him to that extentã
The prince said that and looked at me. His face was laughing but his eyes werenât. Such people are cautious. The moment they regard you an enemy, they wonât have any mercy. Thatâs why I will display as much loyalty as I can. Well, I donât plan to be his enemy anyway.
ãLetâs proceed to the main subject. I want to ask you for the golden birds. About of thoseã
ãWhen I will take the throne, there will be a ceremony. At that time there will the representatives of aristocracy and other countries present on the celebrations. I would like to use the golden bird as the main dishã
ãThe deadline is two weeks, I wonât be able to wait any longer. How about it, can you do it? ã
ãThis is a great opportunity to get in good graces of his highness. You can do it Rinos, no one can do it but youã
True, if Iâm able to hunt a golden bird, even more, 100 of them, it can greatly illustrate my ability. At the same time, it will serve as a deterrent
ãIs teacher unable to do it?ã
ãIdiot. If I go, I will be able to hunt a few, but many. I will hunt a few and the rest of the flock will run. Besides, I will just excessively damage them with my fire magicã
ãIf teacher canât do it, then I, as your student, definitely wonât be able toã
ãYou have your barrier magic. Just find a flock and enclose them in the barrier, then just take them as they areã
How unreasonable. Finding the flock of vigilant bird is difficult on itself, plus, I will need to deploy a fairly wide barrier to capture all of them. The moment the barrier disappears, the birds will be able to escape. This way has some difficulties. What should I do?
ãItâs fine. If it is Rinos, you will do it somehow. Your highness, please anticipate the results. The 100 birds will definitely be delivered ã
Eril! When did you enter? What did you just say? Donât just push the problem onto me like it someone elseâs problem!!
ãIâm relieved hearing that. But please spare me from the spoiled onesã
ãOf course, your highness. The Versam family has anãInfinite storageã. If he uses this bag, there will be no way for them to rotã
ãUn, I came here to ask the teacher because you have it in the first placeã
ãPlease stop it with teacher, your highness. Call me like Elsa doesã
ãNo, I can earnestly share my opinion with the teacher and marquis Versam only. Itâs also a reminder to myself. So let me call you a teacher ã
The peaceful conversation started between everyone besides me. Have you decided on your order? It seems I have no other choice but to answer withãYes, gladly! ã. | {
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俺ãšãã³ã³ã§ã¯......ãã³ã³ã«åãŠãªãã | No matter how strong Mannenâs defense ability was, it took some damage to its HP and shell during the earlier crash with Garbow, and so it could not withstand Armageddon Arrow.
And I had shot the arrow so that it went through the center of the fortress-like shell.
It wasnât that I knew Veraâs precise location, but if Mannenâs insides were similar to a tank in structure, then Vera should be there...!
First, Mannenâs HP was carved away completely, and its body disappeared.
And then Vera appeared from within the fading light.
But her body was also fading...!
âYou two are a better combination in spite of you not being a Unison Master... Well done! I must admit my defeat! Still, I did everything that I could...! It was delivered just fine...!â
What? What did she do...?
She said that it was delivered, but I hadnât seen her use the cannons to launch anything... As I thought about this, an announcement rang in my head. Satomi had been killed by Macoco.
At the same time, there was the loud sound of an explosion, and buildings being destroyed...it was close by!
âMacoco is just like you, and usually plays solo. Before she met me in a different game, she just cooperated with NPCs and defeated strong enemies. And so I can say this...the fight has only just begun! Youâll see the real Macoco Strange come out now...!â
And then Vera disappeared completely.
At the same time, the buildings on the street crashed down, and something flowed in with the bricks and rubble.
One of them was Necoco Strange, who was covered in wounds.
And the other was... Macoco Strange, who had a pink aura around her...!
And in her hand, she held a giant, black boomerang!
It was Crowkus Jr. after being transformed!
In other words, Crowkus Jr. had survived Garbowâs underwater attacks and returned to the surface to reunite with its master...!
So monster players had monster Unisons...!
Vera must have been talking about Crowkus Jr. then.
Garbow had been chasing Crowkus the whole time, but Vera got in the way.
And then I helped him... If that was how things went, then it wouldnât have been impossible for me to have encountered Crowkus Jr. and attacked it.
It was just a few secondâs difference. The shifting of the mist...
And that difference had been enough to allow Macoco and Crowkus. Jr to reunite!
And while I felt quite intimidated by her presence, I had to calm myself and figure out what that aura was!
âNecoco! What effect does that aura have?â
â...â
âNecoco!â
â...Huh!? O-old man!? Since when were you here!?â
âA while ago! In fact, youâre the one that came here...â
Her concentration was so heightened that she couldnât even hear me at first...
That was how powerful the enemy she was facing was.
This might be the moment where I had to take the lead.
âThat pink aura is from a Miracle Effect. Itâs called Special Sakura Butterfly! It raises your status and gives you the ability to fly. Also...it creates energy boomerangs!â
âIn other words, sheâll have more than three of them...â
âExactly!â
âThatâs insane... I have a feeling that your aunt is no longer human.â
Ah, I shouldnât say such things...
There was no malice behind it, but it just spilled out from fear. But I could have chosen my words more carefully...
âRight? Thatâs why she is so mysterious...and why I look up to her. Someone my age canât help but get excited.â
She was the age where you dreamed of being someone special who could do incredible things. And there was someone ârealâ who was like that close by.
It was no wonder she looked up to her aunt and strived to be like her.
Though, it wasnât like Necoco wanted to be an exact copy either.
After all, they had completely different weapons, and their combat style was also different.
Necoco wanted to catch up, but in her own style.
As an older person, I wanted to encourage her...but being older also meant there was a reality that only I could see.
A pink boomerang appeared and swayed ominously.
But the boomerang itself was not that strong.
However, having more of them meant more attacks. And it also meant she had more skills at her disposal.
In the end, I would not be able to keep up, and would get crushed...!
âInferno Arrow Tempest!â
I had to be the first to act.
If I was forced into reacting to every attack, I would be overwhelmed by decision making. I learned that during the Charin fight...!
âGalaxy Cyclone!â
The giant black boomerang was thrown and began to spin rapidly!
It created a huge tornado, sucking in and nullifying all of my arrows.
Necoco had been using Invisible Catwalk to vanish in order to get close to Macoco, but the wind killed her speed, and the effect was gone.
This ambush had ended in failure...!
This time it was a slithering boomerang that was thrown.
The way that it slithered in the air certainly reminded me of a long, easter dragon, but âFeilongâ also had a different meaning.
This boomerang left a trail behind it, and this trail also dealt damage.
And it would continue to stay there for a fixed amount of time.
So not only did they get in the way of my attacks, but they affected Necocoâs mobility...!
A long body that ruled the sky... The Feilong!
As an adult, I could see the reality.
Necoco and I...could not win against Macoco. | {
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After uttering this, I welcomed Ichiko and the child who had been transformed into a kin as they returned to âWhite Mist and Black Swamp Forestâ from the outside while I was still in a state of mist.
Ichiko walked over to speak with me, notwithstanding her evident exhaustion.
âHow unusual...â
âHmm? About what?â
âTo welcome me like that, saying a few words of appreciation for my efforts.â
âOh, thatâs what you mean. Even I would exert my energy on such an occasion. Anyway, hereâs my command, rest for now.â
â...Damn you, Kurokiri...â
With that, Ichiko passed out on the spot. However, before Ichikoâs body made contact with the ground, I partially materialized my body around her and supported her.
âWell, and you are...?â
â...â
My attention fell on the child that Ichiko had brought with her.
Incidentally, since the child was now inside me, I had also verified that this child was a girl and the wounds that she had before transforming into a kin have disappeared.
You there! Donât you dare say I have messed with every inch of a little girlâs body or something! I mean, the nature of my body allows me to touch everything in the mist, the same way I can see and hear everything in the process! This is by no means intentional even if I am consequently in the process of touching and lapping up on a little girlâs entire body! Yes, this is an inexorable act!
And while I was rambling wildly in my mind, the girl approached Ichiko.
Judging by the direction of her eyes, she apparently assumed that my main body was near Ichiko.
âMmm. If possible, I would like you to at least share your name with me...â
The girl was wordlessly waving her hand towards where she perceived me to be, attempting to get a touch.
âAh, is it possible that you canât speak?â
The girl gave a nod of affirmation.
Well, it was reasonable that the girl would be traumatized after what she had gone through. In fact, I was genuinely amazed at how she still had the mental fortitude to respond to my questions. Perhaps, as a result of her conversion to a kin, not only her physical body but also her mind had been healed to the point where she can regain the ability of cogitation.
âAnyway, can you write?â
Thus, here were the results of our communication. Since she canât vocalize, her status canât be opened unless she had done a fair amount of training and was able to invoke her skill without chanting.
ã»Her name is Kokoro Izumi.
ã»The skill she possesses is âªUnbloodyâ«, a constantly activated skill that renders her wounds incapable of bleeding regardless of how severe they may be.
ã»All of her family members are dead. Her parents were murdered by a man hired by the researcher, and her younger brother, who was kidnapped together with her, perished during the experiment.
When I asked about her future plans, she expressed her desire to repay Ichiko for saving her life, and despite the fact that a kin was not required to sleep, I put her to bed since it was late at night.
âEven so, things have developed in an intriguing way.â
While saying this, my thoughts drifted back to Ryo and Chirito, the boy who I made to become my kin at Ryoâs request, and then to Ichiko and Izumi, the girl who I made to become my kin at Ichikoâs request.
By the way, Chirito was presently under semi-arrest at Ryoâs house, and the situation was being clarified to him.
Now, these two new kin belonged to the same race, despite the reasons for their conversion to a kin were diametrically opposed to those of their predecessors.
Chirito, on the other hand, was turned into a kin for his own safety and to contain the leakage of information after Ryoâs true identity was exposed. That was to say, it was for Ryoâs own sake.
In contrast, Izumi transformed into a kin because Ichiko saw her on the verge of death, and she wished to save her. To put it another way, Ichiko was acting in the best interests of Izumi, a stranger. Well, I wonât rule out the possibility that Ichikoâs personal wish was to avoid witnessing someone dying in front of her.
This distinction was truly fascinating. After all, they were once master and servant, and their inclinations should have been similar, but they were nevertheless divergent in such a manner.
I wondered what would happen if both parties were to inform each other of this development. While Ichiko might understand and accept the situation because of her devotion to Lady Ryo, maybe Ryo would condemn Ichikoâs behavior.
Well, I wonât be the one to break the news to them anyway. These things would be more enticing when they were presented in their natural state without any tweaks.
âBut then again, this whole affair has led to some interesting revelations.â
That was the fact that it was possible to recuperate from wounds by âªMonster Createâ« and that if certain conditions were met, it was even possible to transform a human into a kin without the use of shackles or other restraints.
For the recovery of wounds, the extent to which they were determined to be wounds was not fully clear until more actual cases were revealed, but there was a high likelihood that congenital illnesses, but not acquired illnesses, will be assessed as wounds. If this turned out to be true, humans will seek to become a kin in exchange for the treatment of the disease. In other words, negotiations would be possible.
In a similar vein, the fact that a human being may be converted into a kin without constraint was used meant that a person dying in a dungeon could be transformed into a kin in return for sparing their life. That would signify I had another card in my hand to play.
âThe only catch is that this is part of the âªMonster Createâ«, so if I can do it, it means that other Demon Kings can perform it as well. If I indiscreetly proliferate the number of my subordinates, I will not be able to manage them. Moreover, there is a risk of being found out... no, I wonder if a part of the military and the head of the country have already figured it out.â
At this point, I pondered briefly.
Ichikoâs true identity had been uncovered. Therefore, it was logical to assume that Ryoâs true identity as well as the Demon King who she was serving was also exposed. Then why hadnât the country contacted Ryo, be it friendly or hostile?
The simple conclusion was that she was being kept in the dark.
Ryo was the daughter of a member of the Diet. In other words, she had some standing in the eyes of the public, even if not legally. In addition, she was ostensibly the only human being with knowledge of the inner workings of the âWhite Mist and Black Swamp Forestâ as well as a valuable person who may be able to extract information about me behind the scenes. Thus, the information in her possession was extremely priceless. Furthermore, she was also an expert healer.
When you think about it... hmm. It might be wise to disclose the information about Kirijin, or rather, the kin, as opposed to concealing it. It may also serve as a deterrent to other Demon Kings.
Then, Iâll let Ryo pass the message on to them. On second thought, I havenât received any compensation for turning Chirito into a kin yet~⪠| {
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ã©ãã ãã³ã倫劻 ãã! | Customer: Uh, let's see.
Server: We have pan seared registry error sprinkled with the finest corrupted data, binary brioche, RAM sandwiches, Conficker fitters, and a scripting salad with or without polymorphic dressing, and a grilled coding kabob.
Customer: I'd like a RAM sandwich and a glass of your finest Code 39.
Server: Would you like any desserts, sir?
Our special is tracking cookie.
Customer: I'd like a batch of some zombie tracking cookies, thank you.
Server: Coming right up, sir.
Your food will be served shortly.
Maya Penn: I've been drawing ever since I could hold a crayon, and I've been making animated flip books since I was three years old.
At that age, I also learned about what an animator was.
There was a program on TV about jobs most kids don't know about.
When I understood that an animator makes the cartoons I saw on TV, I immediately said, "That's what I want to be."
I don't know if I said it mentally or out loud, but that was a greatly defining moment in my life.
Animation and art has always been my first love.
It was my love for technology that sparked the idea for "Malicious Dishes."
There was a virus on my computer, and I was trying to get rid of it, and all of a sudden, I just thought, what if viruses have their own little world inside the computer?
Maybe a restaurant where they meet up and do virusy things?
And thus, "Malicious Dishes" was born.
At four years old, my dad showed me how to take apart a computer and put it back together again.
That started my love for technology.
I built my first website myself in HTML, and I'm learning JavaScript and Python.
I'm also working on an animated series called "The Pollinators."
It's about bees and other pollinators in our environment and why they're so important.
If plants aren't pollinated by the pollinators, then all creatures, including ourselves, that depend on these plants, would starve.
So I decided to take these cool creatures and make a superhero team.
Pollinator: Deforestsaurus! I should have known!
I need to call on the rest of the Pollinators!
Thank you. All of my animations start with ideas, but what are ideas?
Ideas can spark a movement.
Ideas are opportunities and innovation.
Ideas truly are what make the world go round.
If it wasn't for ideas, we wouldn't be where we are now with technology, medicine, art, culture, and how we even live our lives.
At eight years old, I took my ideas and started my own business called Maya's Ideas, and my nonprofit, Maya's Ideas for the Planet.
And I make eco-friendly clothing and accessories.
I'm 13 now, and although I started my business in 2008, my artistic journey started way before then.
I was greatly influenced by art, and I wanted to incorporate it in everything I did, even my business.
I would find different fabrics around the house, and say, &quot;This could be a scarf or a hat,&quot; and I had all these ideas for designs.
I noticed when I wore my creations, people would stop me and say, "Wow, that's really cute. Where can I get one?"
And I thought, I can start my own business.
Now I didn't have any business plans at only eight years old.
that were safe for the environment and I wanted to give back.
My mom taught me how to sew, and on my back porch, I would sit and make little headbands out of ribbon, and I would write down the names and the price of each item.
I started making more items like hats, scarves and bags. Soon, my items began selling all over the world, and I had customers in Denmark, Italy, Australia, Canada and more.
Now, I had a lot to learn about my business, like branding and marketing, staying engaged with my customers, and seeing what sold the most and the least.
Soon, my business really started to take off.
Then one day, Forbes magazine contacted me when I was 10 years old.
They wanted to feature me and my company in their article.
Now a lot of people ask me, why is your business eco-friendly? I've had a passion for protecting the environment and its creatures since I was little.
My parents taught me at an early age about giving back and being a good steward to the environment.
I heard about how the dyes in some clothing or the process of even making the items was harmful to the people and the planet, so I started doing my own research, and I discovered that even after dyeing has being completed, there is a waste issue that gives a negative impact on the environment.
For example, the grinding of materials, or the dumping of dried powder materials.
These actions can pollute the air, making it toxic to anyone or anything that inhales it.
So when I started my business, I knew two things: All of my items had to be eco-friendly, and 10 to 20 percent of the profits I made went to local and global charities and environmental organizations.
that not only seeks to have a successful business, but also a sustainable future.
I feel that I can meet the needs of my customers without compromising the ability of future generations to live in a greener tomorrow.
We live in a big, diverse and beautiful world, and that makes me even more passionate to save it.
But it's never enough to just to get it through your heads about the things that are happening in our world.
It takes to get it through your hearts, because when you get it through your heart, that is when movements are sparked.
That is when opportunities and innovation are created, and that is why ideas come to life.
Thank you, and peace and blessings.
Thank you. Pat Mitchell: So, you heard Maya talk about the amazing parents who are behind this incredible woman. Where are they?
Please, Mr. and Mrs. Penn. Would you just -- Ah! | {
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ãããããã¯ã? ããŸãªããŠ? | âHey, donât you think itâs funny the way I dressed? Do you think weâre going to be okay?â
âYou worry too much, Naoya! Youâll be fine as long as you keep that cape on! Ha! Youâre trying to get me to say, [This is ridiculous] and then youâll say, [Then Iâll have to take it off], then youâll take mine off and attack me!â
âWhat kind of situation is that? Also, Iâm rather worried about this cloak. Somehow it smells musty.â
âJust that? As long as you keep walking, you wonât mind it! The weather is good too!â
Are you saying that sunlight and wind will do something about it?
Chloeâs words made me very uneasy.
I was wearing black leather shoes, dark gray slacks, and a button-down shirt.
I have a cape on instead of a jacket, or maybe not a jacket at all, but a cloak.
Everything except the cape is my personal belongings, which I wear to work.
By the way, Anna-san brought the cape from the basement. Is this okay? In many ways.
I asked Chloe to check it out, but she said it looked fine at a glance.
It has been four days since I became the manager of the Aion Mall Otherworldly Store.
After the peak of store visits in the morning, Chloe and I headed out of the premises.
There are few customers during the hours before noon and into the afternoon.
Then I decided to inspect the nearest town.
The guide was Chloe.
Or rather, Chloe is the only one available.
Anna is a Lich and undead, and Barbera is a dragon, and she doesnât talk much, and she looks like sheâs about years old.
There have been no other guests at this time of the day for the past three days, and the store would be fine with Anna-san.
Barbera would carry the load if necessary, and there would be skeletons and ghosts to guard the perimeter and the store.
Even if guests do show up, the checkout line shouldnât get too crowded. Reality is harsh. This is another world, though.
âIt takes an hour to get to town on foot, right? The old merchant said it would take half an hour by horse-drawn carriage.â
âYeah, thatâs about right if we go slowly. Shall we run?â
âNo, I donât want to. I want to know how long it would take us to get there on foot. So Chloe can run in the metal armor?â
âOf course I can! I work out and I keep this armor on except when I sleep!â
âAn elf who spends her daily life in metal armor, huh? What is the elf again?â
Chloe slams her fist against the armor with a thud.
Are elves in this world the muscle type?
When I asked Anna-san about it last night, she said, [Chloe-san is a bit different from the other elves because she is, you know, a bit different.].
Chloe also said that she was called a disgraced elf, so maybe I should think that she is different from other elves.
[An hourâs walk, huh? I wonder why they built the Aion Mall Otherworldly Store there, so far from the city.â
âWhat, Naoya didnât know? The world is connected to that place, so they set up a [Transfer Gate] and put the Aion Mall there.â
âOh, I see. It would certainly be difficult to build it in a different place.â
The [Transition Gate] is connected once every six months.
I passed through it and came to this world from Aion Mall Kasugano branch. It was more like I came here or I was sent to work here. Literally.
Both worlds have a [Transfer Gate] near the loading dock of the Aion Mall.
It was no coincidence, but at least on this worldâs side, they were probably aiming for it.
âHowever, itâs an hourâs walk to the nearest town, which is about five kilometers away. If you drive, it will take about minutes. If you think about it that way, itâs not a bad location.â (. mile)
Because the dirt road is curved and has some slight ups and downs, the town is not yet in sight.
Farmlands stretch out on either side of the road.
âBut there are no vehicles there, though! I heard that only merchants, military, and nobles have horse-drawn carriages! That means itâs an hour each way, and the location is pretty hard to get to!â
I couldnât help but yell out as we walked.
I was totally acting strangely, but Chloe went through with it.
It seems sheâs gotten used to it. Iâm sorry about that. But if you are suddenly thrown into a different world, I think it canât be helped.
âHng? Naoya, get back. Donât step out from behind me.â
Chloe quickly held out her hand, stopping me and stepping forward.
Chloeâs eyes looked out and saw wheat-like crops planted in the farmland, swaying.
âChloe?â
âA monster. Perhaps a small one.â
Chloe tells me with a sharp look on her face.
The face of the beautiful and dignified woman, without her usual lack of charm, reminds me that she has an elf-like face and is in good shape.
Rustling and shaking of wheat-like crops approached.
The monster scurries out onto the dirt path.
âA rabbit? But with horns on its forehead? I saw it on the first night.â
âTake this!â
Chloe attacked the rabbit, which jumped out with such force that surprised me.
As if in slow motion, Chloeâs sword slashes down on the horned rabbit.
The horned rabbit rolled on the ground and didnât move a muscle.
The horned rabbit I saw on my first day! Itâs small for a ....... Itâs the size of a normal rabbit.
âFuh... Is everything all right, Naoya? The farmerâs auntie said there was a one-horned rabbit. Most of them were eaten ...... by Barbera, but this one must have been a stray.â
Chloe wipes her sweat and puts away her sword, as if she has done her job.
I feel like I heard Barberaâs bloody ecology, which looks like sheâs 10 years old, but more importantly.
âI was wondering why the rabbit didnât bleed when you cut it with the sword! With the sword! Itâs with the sword!â
âHuh? Whatâs wrong, Naoya?â
âNo, itâs nothing. Itâs Chloeâs sword!â
âThis sword has been in my family for generations. Itâs a Spirit Sword, the Ephedupois!â (ãšããã¥ã㯠â Epedhupowa)
âWhat a hard name to pronounce, wait- ! Thatâs a wooden sword!â
âThis sword is made from an ancient tree blessed by the spirit Ondine of the village of Vertue! This is a great sword that can slay what ever I want, whenever I want!â
âAh, so itâs not a replica wooden sword, but a weapon of that type. Itâs okay, itâs okay, this is a different world. It is not surprising that such a weapon exists in this world.â
âOh, you understand me, Naoya? The knights were having a hard time understanding me and called me a clumsy knight!â
â..... Well, it looks like wood. But a one-horned rabbit? Thatâs why it was a blow. Iâm not sure if a normal sized rabbit would be a blow even with a wooden sword?â
âHmmm. I need to drain the blood, Iâll show you how it cuts!â
âOh, hey Chloe.â
Pulling out the sword once again, Chloe quickly swung the spirit sword.
The head of the fallen one-horned rabbit was cut off, and blood began to flow out onto the dirt road.
âI was amazed to see that a wooden sword can really slice through a rabbitâs neck. Itâs amazing to live in a different world. And no matter how much of a monster it is, cutting down a rabbit without hesitation is just not good.â
However, even a cute looking normal sized rabbit can become the size of a minivan when it grows up.
As a person who saw an adult one-horned rabbit herd on my first night in the other world, I canât complain about Chloeâs judgment. Iâd rather praise her.
âFufu, Iâm still a knight in spite of all this!â
âAh, Iâve been wondering about that. Chloe, does being a knight mean that you are a knight at heart? Or do you still belong to the knighthood? Arenât you an employee of my company?â
âI was sent to Aiwon Mall by the Knights Order from my country!â
â........ pardon?â
Err, hold up. What did she just say? | {
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In the living room, Maxwell was drinking tea before my eyes while pretending not to see me. I glared reproachfully at him. He should accept that much, I almost got roasted there.
âThat was a nice performance there.â
âHow should have I known that you had arrived? Not to mention, I knew you would be able to avoid something of that level.â
âYouâre overestimating me too much.â
Mateus was the one who brought tea, and was on standby inside, waiting for further instructions. For that reason, Maxwell was not saying anything that would suggest I was Reid.
âMateus, we are fine here so go and take a rest for some time. You should be quite tired now, yes?â
âThatâs awfully considerate of you. Are you planning to talk about something you feel guilty about?â
âNonsense. I would never do such a thing.â
âThey would call your state shameless, you know? Well, itâs true that Iâm tired, so Iâll go take a bath and sleep.â
âThat bath is part of my mansion... Ah, well, you may do as you please.â
Being originally a shady assassin, Mateus realized our intention, shrugged once, and didnât pursue it any further. Maxwell didnât want to make things complicated either, so he just let Mateusâ impudent statement go.
Thus, Mateus left the room without turning back. Just as he left and closed the door, Maxwell quickly cast detection magic and confirmed his location.
âI see, he indeed headed towards the bath. Still, you came here after so long, so what made you so flustered?â
âYou know the job Iâve taken on, right?â
âI believe it was related to the illegal drugs in the Methuselah domain. I would be very pleased too if you resolve that matter for me. Not that I can say that publicly.â
âYeah, would be extremely imprudent for an influential person to encourage assassinations. Anyway, take a look at this. Itâs the drug in question.â
I took out the small bottle from my waist pouch and presented it to him. Maxwell casually took it and lightly shook it.
âHuh, is it not empty?â
âThere are a few drops left. Just appraise those.â
âThatâs quite an unreasonable demand.â
âYou canât?â
Maxwell frowned, while I smiled provocatively in response. It was a smug, sarcastic grin. He also realized that, but he decided to take on my provocation.
âI am not saying that I cannot. Give me some time.â
Maxwell started preparing his spell without waiting for my reply.
He took out a few ink jars and sheets of paper, then drew a magic circle on it, and placed the bottle on top. Once he chanted and poured in some magic power, the magic circle shone and disappeared after rising up like steam.
In exchange, the results of the appraisal took its place.
âYour appraisal method is quite different from the one I saw a merchant use before.â
The merchant I met at the hot spring village once used something like a magnifying glass for appraisal. Maxwell on the other hand was using paper and ink. It looked quite simple.
âWell, I cannot rival the experts, but my appraisal is quite accurate too. There is no problem in believing its contents.â
âAs long as itâs correct, I have no problems.â
I responded as such to Maxwell and took the paper with the results up. It had several chemicals and some strange materials.
âThereâs... earth and glaze?â
âIt probably appraised even the bottle composition.â
âThen thereâs Pirica fruit.â
âThat would be the ingredient to strengthen the permeation of magicules.â
âWhat about Bezel leaves?â
âIt has a mood-elevating effect. Sometimes it weakens the reasoning and dulls the pain. It is typically used for anesthesia and such.â
âAnd finally, Fungus spores...wait, Fungus?â
The Fungus was a species of monsters that resided in forests. They scattered spores, parasitized animals and humans, and eroded their insides. The parasitized organism eventually failed to even notice that they were dead, and was merely manipulated according to the plantâs will.
Of course, their appearance was also affected, such as their skin getting covered in a plant-like fiber and mushrooms growing from all over their bodies, so you could tell at a glance.
Needless to say, it was designated as a dangerous plant, and both the Guild and the kingdom ordered them to be exterminated on sight.
âIs it really safe to ingest something so dangerous?â
âOf course not. It would corrode your insides, so you may feel sharp pain all over your body. But wait... Perhaps that is the reason they mixed Bezel leaves in it.â
âTo dull the pain and make the user oblivious of the erosion?â
âFungus spores, in small quantities, can be eliminated by the human immune system. If you use proper dosages, there should be no fear of turning into a monster.â
âAnd what if you overdosed it?â
âThen you would most certainly be invaded by the Fungus and be monsterified. But with the amount we have on hand, we cannot judge how much would be a proper dosage.â
I see, so thatâs why the man Den and Finia met was able to produce such bizarre strength.
The reason he died after Denâs attack was most likely that having the center of his body destroyed had drawn out the fungal filaments within his body along with his bowels.
âWhich means, this is definitely...â
âIllegal...yes. Fungus is a dangerous plant that even the kingdom orders to exterminate. Mixing it in a drug and circulating it is just outrageous.â
âSo I guess the reason they ordered a lot of masks was so the workers wouldnât ingest those spores, huh?â
As long as we investigate the source, we can deal with the drug. The problem was how to prove that Cain was involved in it.
âIt seems I would have to decide on that based on how Michelle and Cloud fare.â
They were helping carry the large quantities of masks. Depending on where that took place, the scale of our investigation would narrow down in one go. Besides, they were on simple guard duty there, so no one should suspect them.
Once I came to that conclusion, I thanked Maxwell and returned back to the Methuselah domain. | {
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ã±ãŒãã«ãã䜿ãæ¹ã¯ããããªãããã ã£ãã | After seeing the vampire turn into ash, I decided to organize the information I had gathered.
The mirror that the vampires had risked their lives to break was something that was connected to the palace of their most high king.
And this ruin contained a machine that could produce the Foolâs Stone.
âSo they are searching for ways to make the stone without Philly...â
That had to be stopped.
But this palace also bothered me. Who was this âmost high king?â
I thought in silence for a while.
And then I felt a presence moving behind me.
I turned around to see Grulfâs tail poking out of the shadows.
âHey, Grulf. Your tailâs sticking out.â
âGrr?â
As there was concealment magic, he could make quiet noises without being heard.
Even his tail could remain hidden if it was just a little.
âNia. Grulf. You can come out now.â
â...â
There was no reply. Everything was quiet.
âOh, thatâs right.â
I deactivated the illusion.
And then Grulf came out.
Nia followed after him.
âYou were both great and stayed calm.â
âThank you.â
âMister Locke. What kind of spell was that? Our surroundings changed all at once...â
âAh, itâs an illusion that Luchila taught me.â
âThat seems like a very useful spell.â
âIt is useful. But itâs not that effective if the other person has a strong resistance to magic.â
Itâs not that hard to deceive someone through sight.
But when it comes to smell, sound and pain, it becomes very difficult.
I patted them both on the head and asked,
âWere you listening to what we were saying?â
âYes. They said there was a machine that could make the Foolâs Stone.â
âApparently. We will go check once we have dealt with these bodies.â
âYes.â
We searched for the magic stones within the ashes.
There were no medals this time. I guess they were Arch Vampires.
âSo there was one Lord and two Archs. And a Goblin Lord and goblins.â
â...Yes. May I ask a question, Mister Locke?â
âAsk anything you like.â
âMy father told me that it was very rare for vampires higher than Arch Vampires to use goblins...â
âThat is usually true, yes. Perhaps they didnât have enough servants.â
And then I told her about that time I met Shia in the cave.
That Vampire Lord had had all of his thralls killed by her father, Danton.
Without any thralls, the Lord had no choice but to use goblins instead.
âBut there was an Arch this time.â
âThatâs right. You would think that there would be a few lessers at least.â
âMaybe there is a reason that they canât use lessers.â
âPerhaps. I donât know any of the details. But itâs good to keep in mind.â
âYes.â
Nia and Grulf replied energetically.
A reason they couldnât use lessers, huh?
Perhaps they were being used elsewhere.
Lessers were able to move around to a certain degree even within a divine barrier.
And the dark ones had a tool that could fool the barrier. But it was supposedly rare.
If they wanted to send a great number into the city, they would probably use lesser vampires or lower.
We would have to consider the possibility that there were some in the city now.
I thought on this as we moved to the next room.
There were three goblins and a strange-looking machine.
âNia! Grulf!â
âYes!â
Nia and Grulf quickly disposed of both the goblins. I also took one down.
Perhaps these goblins were workers who kept the machine running.
I looked at the machine. It was not very big.
It was smaller than Grulf.
âSo this is the machine that can make the Foolâs Stone?â
âI think it is...â
âBut how do you use it...â
âHmm... I have no idea.â
I didnât know how to operate it.
âYou would think it would be quite simple, since goblins were able to do it.â
âGrr?â
Grulf began to sniff at the machine.
âWell, I might as well put it in my bag then.â
âWhat? Would it fit?â
âItâs a very expensive magic bag.â
And the capacity was immense. The entrance could also stretch a great deal.
Something that was too huge wouldnât fit, but a Grulf-size machine would fit just fine.
And so I put the machine in my bag so it could be studied later.
The magic bag remained the same weight regardless of its contents, which was very convenient.
After that, we took the magic stones from the goblins and cleaned up.
That included picking up the fragments from the shattered mirror.
Then we dragged the goblin corpses out of the cave, where Kathe was waiting for us.
âYou took long enough!â
âThere were not only goblins, but vampires.â
â...How horrible. Vampires inside a dragon ruin... Unforgivable!â
âIndeed. Now, I would like to ask you about this machine...â
âOh, but you must not go around moving things in the ruin.â
âSorry. But the vampires were up to some mischief and they were going to use it.â
âThen you are forgiven.â
âDo you know how to use this thing?â
âI do not. What is that, anyway?â
Apparently, Kathe did not know what it was. | {
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ã«èšªããäºã決æããã®ã ã£ãã | After leaving the chairmanâs office, I headed directly to the cafeteria and had a meal. I couldâve joined up with the girls, but with my current mental state I was afraid I would have slipped up and done something strange.
I have conducted myself like a guy before Maxwell, even pulling my knees on the chair in an unsightly way, and even drove Elliot into a trap. All that made even me feel a bit questionable about it.
After I was done with my meal, I skipped the club activities and went home. I told Letina I wasnât feeling well. Finia looked surprised to see me return so early.
âLady Nicole, you returned already?â
âYeah. Are you doing your usual training, Finia?â
She was still in touch with the Adventurers that guarded us when coming to this city, and sometimes asked them for sword training.
She had a sword belt on top of her maid clothes and was easily swinging around a decently large sword. Doing that in front of a cozy house was giving off quite a surreal feel.
âYes. I feel like my skills have grown quite dull lately.â
âHaha, I wonât even lose to you!â
âYeah, thatâs not happening.â
Even I havenât grown so dull to lose against Finia. Hearing that, she became a bit sulky.
âYou said it now! Then how about we have a little spar?â
âThereâs no way I can point a sword at you, right? Besides, Iâm thirsty, so Iâm heading inside.â
âOkay. Then I will prepare hot milk for you!â
âHot milk in a hot season like this... Youâre actually angry, huh?â
She answered with a smile but I could see veins on her temple. It was clear that she was displeased after I poured water on her enthusiasm just as she graduated from a beginner level.
However, this period was the most dangerous. It was a period when people would gain baseless confidence and do reckless things.
It was better to break her nose before it would grow too long for her own sake... But I couldnât really imagine her growing haughty.
It didnât seem like she was that angry either, as by the dinnertime she had completely forgotten about it and her good mood had returned.
She sat next to me to serve at the table, but she also had dinner at the same time. She was self-proclaimed as my personal maid, but she couldnât oppose Cortinaâs order for everyone to have meals together.
I took the opportunity to talk about Elliotâs matter. Of course, I did not start the topic myself, but rather Cortina, who had noticed his abnormal behavior. I was technically Maxwellâs private pupil, so it wasnât strange for me to be aware of it.
âHmm... Elliot, huh?â
She had watched over Elliot since he was little, so he still appeared like a child to her eyes. Hearing about his disappointed love, she put a hand on her chin and started thinking.
We were having dinner now, so that was quite bad manners.
âA beauty with silver hair and blue eyes... In her later teens... And with Maxwellâs backing...â
âCortina?â
â...Also, strong enough to easily overpower six wannabe Adventurers... Could it be?â
âUh, whatâs wrong?â
âOkay, I got it!â
âW-What?â
Cortina raised her head with stars in her eyes. Her expression was overflowing with confidence.
âThat woman, you see, Haumea or whatever you called her.â
âSheâs actually Reid!â
âWha-!?â
No, wait a minute. I mean, you are correct, but not really. But I canât exactly point that out. I looked at her with a complex expression, which she seemed to have mistaken for me asking for an explanation, and continued her speech in full confidence.
âAh, yeah. That she did, I guess?â
âMaria is certain that it worked. If he reincarnated soon after, he should be somewhere in his mid-teens now.â
âRight.â
I was barely ten, but I had no choice but to consent to her deduction.
âAlso, heâs currently in Raum. This is also a fact. And now, some mysterious skilled person came into play. And that someone has connections to Maxwell despite being a commoner.â
âBut Maxwell could have his own acquaintances, right?â
âEven so, he is the leader of this kingdom, you know? There are only a limited number of individuals who can get in touch with him. Much less someone with an unknown background.â
âIs that so...â
âIn that case, she should be someone who has known Maxwell from before... Or perhaps itâs better to say that she was friends with him. Someone like that whoâs in her teens... yet also someone whoâs Iâm not aware of, there can only be Reidâs reincarnation.â
âArenât you making a bit too many assumptions there...? You even doubted Kabby, back then, didnât you?â
âNo, Iâm certain this time! And Elliot fell for him, so he left the kingdom to put a distance between them. I can now accept that unreasonable punishment from Maxwell.â
Cortina declared with an excited voice. She was certainly really close to the correct answer, but she was also so... far. It was good that I barely avoided being the target of her doubt.
âAnd now I can understand why he did not show himself before me. Looks like he had reincarnated as a girl!â
âAh, well, yeah.â
âGood grief, that guy has always been so stand-offish. He shouldâve just said so, and I wouldâve taught him a bunch of things! He even became a beauty thatâs worth having fun with!â
âYou are starting to creep me out.â
Cortina was moving her fingers in a suspicious manner. What exactly did she plan to teach me?
âRight, I canât sit still now... Iâll go out for a bit.â
âWhere are you going now!?â
âTo Count Tarkashireâs mansion. There might be some proof left behind.â
âItâs dangerous to go there in the middle of a night, you know?â
Needless to say, Cortina was quite a beauty herself. The feline race had much more longevity compared to humans. Looking from her race, she was still a young girl. She could pass off as a human in her teens with her appearance.
If she went out during the dinnertime, she was bound to attract drunkards. That could happen regardless of the kingdom you were in.
Besides... There was indeed a lot of evidence left behind in that mansion. There was enough evidence that no more excuses would work, take the Mythril threads that I cut off after the malfunction, for example.
Not to mention, the scrapes on the railings from when I defeated the gate guard would work as evidence, too.
âDammit! Iâm going to have to put some screws on Maxwell later...â
She was so excited she wasnât even listening to what I was saying. Seeing her rushing out of the house after having barely eaten, I could do nothing but sigh.
âCanât be helped... Finia, can you get me another cup of... Huh?â
When I turned around, Finia wasnât there. Looking back, I saw her running after Cortina in her maid uniform.
âReally... What should I do about this...?â
I decided to pay a visit to Maxwell once again the next day. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 7,
"inserted_lines_src": 17,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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ã©ãã«ãä»ã¯ãã°ã¢ãŠãããæ°ã«ãªããªã......! | I fell into a defensive stance.
Charin seemed different from usual.
Surely, there wasnât going to be a preliminary fight right here...?
âD-donât be so afraid-nyon! I just thought that I would act a little differently towards players who have finished all of the trials-nyon!â
âThatâs a relief.â
If we fought in the central floor that was even smaller than the boss floors, then my defeat would be guaranteed.
Charin coughed once and then returned to her normal voice.
âWell then. First, I will give you the Virgo medal-nyon!â
And so I accepted the final medal.
The constellation was depicted with gems on the front.
And in the back was the maiden.
She was more beautiful than cute, and there was a noble air about her.
Now I have all of the constellation medals!
The only thing left to do was to fight the AI girl in front of me... But I didnât feel too excited about it.
While Charin was a high power artificial intelligence that was created through futuristic technology, the more I interacted with her, the more she started to seem like an average girl who was trying to be taken seriously.
But now that I could fight at any time, I felt hesitant. I was that kind of hopeless old man.
Besides, Charin was very pretty.
Most of the monsters I had fought had looked quite scary. I didnât know how serious I could be.
Shooting a monster through the head was different from shooting a girl in the head...
Ah, but I had been doing plenty of that during the battle royale and the turf war.
Once you were actually thrown into a battlefield, age and gender didnât mean anything. You just had to fight and give it your all.
I would not fight in a way that was half-hearted.
âHave you solved your little dilemma?â
âAh, so you knew?â
âIt was written all over your face-nyon! You were conflicted about fighting me!â
It was that obvious, huh...
Was my face always so readable?
But my goal was to be cool and have a poker face...
âWell, I can understand how you feel-nyon! Itâs only natural that you wouldnât want to attack a tremendously popular and beautiful AI idol. But donât worry-nyon. Once the fight starts, your head will be filled with thoughts like, âhow am I going to beat her?ââ
âAhaha... I hope you go easy on me then.â
âUnfortunately, I cannot do that, as things must be fair. So you better brace yourself. I suggest you use the special prize to strengthen yourself as much as possible before the fight-nyon.â
The special reward was a metal fragment called âBlade of Judgement.â
It looked like the blade of a knife or short sword after being broken.
Now that I thought about it, there were other materials that had âjudgementâ in their name...
It was the âJudgement Lightningâ from the Lupus trial and the âWings of Judgementâ from the Libra trial...
Even veteran craftsman Yu had not known what they were used for. But now that I have three of them, perhaps they could create some new items.
I should visit the workshop once before taking on the final battle.
âNow, now! I will explain the rules of the final battle-nyon!â
âHuh? Here?â
âOf course-nyon! Itâs a secret that only those who gather all of the medals can hear, so itâs best to tell you here, where there is no one else around-nyon! Well, Iâm sure the information has already spread online... But rules are rules-nyon!â
âSo, there are other players whoâve already fought you?â
âOf course, there are-nyon! The speed at which content is created and then consumed by professional gamers in this great age of VR is astonishing-nyon! Everyone is desperate to get attention-nyon!â
Well, that made sense.
While I played every day from morning, with short breaks, I still stopped at night.
Staying up all night was a little too severe for me...
Maybe when I was younger...
It would only make me play worse, so I wasnât going to sacrifice my sleep.
âStill, as for how many have finished it... I could count them on one hand-nyon.â
âHuh? Really? Do you mean parties or players?â
Charin had five fingers on one hand.
Being an AI didnât mean having more fingers.
As a party could have up to players, only about party had cleared it...
There may be a small party or solo players who did it too, but Iâm sure it was a lot more difficult than the other trials.
âIn fact, adjustments will likely be made depending on how many people are able to clear it early on. So itâs the highest difficulty right now! A difficulty suited for the real professionals of this great VR age-nyon! Difficult games get a lot of people talking, and the players who finish it will be talked about as well. So it benefits us both-nyon.â
The ârealâ professionals, huh...
I wanted to be one of them as well.
It was only a moment ago that I wasnât feeling very excited about fighting Charin, but now I canât wait for it.
The heart of an old man changes just like the heart of a maiden, or the mountain weather.
âYes, yes! Those are the determined eyes that I wanted to see-nyon! Everyone looks like that when they become absorbed in a game-nyon! Whether youâre a young child or an elderly person, girls and boys, everyone is the same-nyon!â
Apparently, it showed on my face again.
However, I agreed with what Charin said.
Regardless of what was happening in real life, everyone seemed the same when they were enjoying a game.
âCough. Itâs time to get back on track-nyon. The final battle will take place in the Serpent Palace that is floating above the first town! A path will open up for the players who have collected all medals-nyon! As for how it will open, thatâs a surprise! But beware, you must stand right underneath for it to open-nyon!â
âRight underneath... In other words, you have to be in the center of the town in order to enter the Serpent Palace?â
âExactly-nyon!â
There were a lot of people in that town, so it would cause a scene if I appeared at the stage for the final battle.
The idea of having to see their faces if I come back after losing. But I suppose it was the price of fame. It could not be helped.
âThe requirement for victory is defeating me! You will fail as soon as your whole party is destroyed-nyon! You will still receive a prize if you die, but someone in your party survives and wins! But it is a surprise! That information has yet to have been leaked! These professionals are different. They donât tell secrets-nyon!â
âThe rules are a lot simpler than the other trials... Ah, so there arenât limitations to how many times you can try?â
âExactly-nyon! You can challenge me as many times as you want, and lose as many times as you want! But there is still a penalty for dying, so be careful! Depending on the situation, your equipment might be ruined as well... But donât blame me-nyon!â
So the penalties and repairing of equipment were essentially like a cooldown.
Basically, trying to win based on luck through challenging her nonstop was not a good idea.
If you didnât go in with a good plan, you would just continue to waste money, materials, and time.
âAlso, there are other rules. Aside from what youâre wearing, you can take up to 10 types of items with you, and have 10 of every type of item-nyon! I call it the baggage restriction-nyon!â
âBaggage restriction...?â
âBefore challenging me, you can set 10 types of items specifically for the fight-nyon! For instance, you are currently using two different bows depending on what the situation calls for, but if you want to continue to do that in the fight against me, you have to put the other bow in the set-nyon! Equipment that isnât in the set will not be equippable even if itâs in your item box-nyon!â
So I had to decide in advance what items to use in the fight.
Since anything that was already equipped didnât count, I could leave the Windcloud set as it is.
The only other things I might use were the Spider Shooter Cloud and the Fists of the Forest Sage.
The remaining 8 slots could be filled with recovery items.
As you could only take 10 of every type of item, that meant I was also quite restricted...
But there were healing items that had different names, so I would have to see how many I could fit in.
âHehe. I see that youâre already making preparations in your head. As for anything else you should know of...I suppose the Unisons-nyon. You can use them as they are considered a party member-nyon!â
So Garbo will lend me a hand then.
That was big...!
âHmm, I guess thatâs it? The item restriction is the only different rule. Iâm sure youâll figure it out, since you overcame all of the other trials-nyon! Now, Iâll be waiting for you in the Serpent Palace-nyon! Bye-bye!â
Charin disappeared and I was warped out of the dungeon.
It was night outside, and the Four Seasons Phantom Tree was lit up.
I would have just stood there and stared at it in awe...if I were the version of me who hadnât finished all of the trials yet.
Now, I had to go to the workshop in the sky.
I just didnât feel like logging off yet...! | {
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åã¯ãªã¬ã³ãžè²ã®æ¶²äœãããŒã«ãŒããç¶ã«ç§»ãæ¿ããŠãé§ã足ã§éšå±ãé£ã³åºããã | I carefully and meticulously poured the ingredients into the heated beaker.
With my hand, I wiped the sweat from my brow.
If I failed in this, it would be the end. There were no more ingredients.
I didnât think it would be easy to succeed from the start, but I didnât expect it to be this difficult. It wasnât something that could be made by only knowing the ingredients.
Well, if I thought about it, that was to be expected. There was no way anyone could make Maddie that easily.
I slowly stirred the mixture of the three plants. Not too fast, not too slow. Every movement was important.
â...Please, please, please succeed.â
I didnât want all the work Iâve done so far to go to waste.
I wait a while for the color to change. The liquid in the beaker was turning a beautiful color.
This was where the real work began.
I could only pray that it would not change to a blackish color. I stared at the inside of the beaker for a while.
Please keep the color as it was, please keep this beautiful pale green color.
I screamed desperately in my heart, but I could already see the color changing gradually.
Oh, I had failed again. I couldnât make the medicine....
All at once, I ran out of energy and collapsed on the spot.
I feel frustration, anger toward myself, and despair. I wonder if it was all for nothing....
A sense of emptiness overtook me, but not a single tear fell. All I could do was sit there in a daze.
What should I do now? For the moment, I had to throw away the failed mixture in the beaker.
I stood up slowly. I noticed that the color of the beakerâs contents was different from usual.
...Orange?
There was a light orange liquid in the beaker. ...It was not a filthy color.
âIs this right?â
I brought my face close to the beaker and sniffed it. There was almost no smell at all, but it smelled somewhat sweet.
My head was confused, but my whole body felt joy. I had never been so happy.
Something hot welled up from the bottom of my heart, and my teary glands became loose.
I was happy, I was delighted.... I had succeeded. All my desperate efforts had not been in vain.
Even if I couldnât get my hands on Maddie, I was able to create a cure.
âNow I can save the lives I would not have been able to save before.â
Hey, Alicia, I did it. I did my best.
So come home soon. Look at what I have accomplished.
I spoke to Alicia over and over in my mind. Even though I knew she would not reply, I could not help but tell her.
I was certain that Alicia would hug me and say, âThatâs my Gilles!â.
I exhaled a sigh of relief as I imagined her.
All I had to do now was to take this and go see Gramps. Grampsâ disease had progressed to such a degree that even if he took medicine now, he would probably not survive.
While I begged him to live, I was also well aware of his predicament.
Even so, I was hoping that this medicine might prolong his life even a little. I was holding on to that hope.
I transferred the orange liquid from the beaker into a bottle and rushed out of the room. | {
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ããã§ãæ°Žç«ã®éèœã®é²è¡ã«æ³šåã§ãããšãããã®ã ã | As soon as Katheâs voice thundered through the room, Grulf shuddered and jumped to his feet.
âGrulf, you can sleep if you want?â
âGroof!â
âMaybe you should sleep on the bench instead of the floor?â
âGroof?â
And so Grulf slowly walked over to the bench in the drawing room.
He lay down and yawned.
Then Kathe entered the room.
âHmm? Were you all eating lunch then?â
âKathe, did you eat already?â
âI have not eaten at all.â
Just as she said this, her stomach growled loudly.
âThen you should eat too.â
âYeah.â
âThank you!â
And so Kathe sat down and ate lunch with us.
After I finished cleaning up, I went to the drawing room to find Kathe sitting next to Grulf.
Grulf showed no signs of being cautious as he slept on his back.
It was hard to imagine that he had been shuddering at the sight of Kathe a moment ago.
âGrulf is so cute.â
So saying, Kathe began to pet the sleeping Grulf.
It didnât look like he would wake up.
âI am a good dragon. Grulf must have realized that.â
I sat down next to her.
âSo, did you go around patrolling the ruins today?â
âYes. But it was another peaceful day.â
âThatâs good.â
Said Philly from behind me.
I turned around to see her and Tama standing there.
âPhilly. What do you mean?â
I said as I gestured for her to sit on the bench opposite of us.
Philly and Tama both sat down on the bench.
Tama sat with good posture next to Philly.
He was the exact opposite of Grulf, who was snoring on his back.
âIt could be...that they have no reason to invade the ruins anymore.â
âYou mean they have finished collecting the necessary magic tools and machines?â
âYes. It is possible.â
âHowever, I have been monitoring all of the ruins in this region.â
âMaybe they went to ruins farther away...Maybe they are going to ruins that are not owned by dragons.â
âHmmm.â
Kathe groaned with a serious expression.
Her tail was drawing circles in the air as it shook.
âPhilly may be right.â
âSee?â
âBesides, it does seem likely that they have succeeded in mass producing the Foolâs Stones...â
âMy suspicions are mostly because of the number of automated machines that you encountered.â
Philly was right.
The Foolâs Stone or the Philosopherâs Stone. Dorgo said that you needed one or the other to make the magic machines.
And so we had given up trying to make them.
However, the dark ones had fifty of them stationed near the palace of the Wind Dragon King.
âI would think that the Wing Dragon Kingâs palace would be pretty low on the list of places to station the machines. What do you think, Locke?â
âThatâs true. It would make more sense to have them protect the barrier of the dark god or the medal that collects curses or the items that break the divine barrier. Those seem more important.â
Kathe listened with interest.
âIf they can sacrifice the water dragons, they would have achieved their purpose. Maybe they are right at that point now.â
âSo their plan is moving along very smoothly then.â
âWhat a frightful thought.â
Kathe said with a nod.
Just then, a bell rang.
âIâll get it!â
Milka said as she dashed towards the door.
âYou donât have to open it if you donât know who it is.â
âI know that!â
The person who had visited was Dorgo.
Like Kathe, I had made it so that Dorgo could enter through the gate.
Still, he had bothered to ring the bell.
That was very much like him. Always polite.
âLocke. Iâm sorry to bother you.â
âIâm glad you came.â
Philly and Tama got up and moved to a different bench.
I suggested that Dorgo take a seat. He did so and then said,
âOh, youâre here again, Kathe.â
âNot just me. You are here too, dad!â
âOh, nevermind.â
Then Dorgo looked at me.
âI have talked with the water dragons.â
âThey would be glad to accept your help, Mister Locke.â
Dragons were a proud species, and it was said that they did not accept the help of humans.
But now we would finally be able to focus on the protection of the water dragon settlement. | {
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以æ¥ãã·ã§ã€ã©ãžã®å«ãããã¯ãã±ã£ãããšç¡ããªã£ãã®ã ã£ãã | The next day, Sheila was feeling much better after a good nightâs rest. Both her energy and stamina were full, and she woke up energetically.
As she raised herself vigorously, an unfamiliar blanket slipped off her body.
The windows were decorated with beautiful roses in pale colors. On the bedside, there was a bottle of fruit water and a basket full of fruit.
Sheila looked at them carefully and eventually smiled. For some reason, she felt like she could do anything.
After studying theology, the history of the Steitz Kingdom, and mathematics, it was time for lunch in the cafeteria.
Todayâs menu was pot-au-feu and beef shank stewed in tomatoes. She slowly savored the flavor of the meat as she chewed it.
The special course would begin in the afternoon with swordsmanship practice. Today they were supposed to learn a sword dance in preparation for a technique performance competition in the fall.
âThe technique competition is for students up to the third grade to showcase their skills, but there will also be a tournament held in the presence of His Majesty the King. Many nobles will also come to observe; if their abilities are recognized there, they can be promoted.â
âFor us commoners and low-ranking nobles, itâs a chance to show off our skills. This year we finally get to participate.â
Cody and Zechs took turns explaining, and Sheila nodded in agreement. She could really feel their enthusiasm.
âI thought it was strange to be talking about it when itâs only the second month of spring, but if the royal family and nobles are coming, it makes sense.â
âSpecial course students also have summer training, so if we donât start practicing now, we wonât make it in time.â
The summer training, which was only about a month away, was worrisome, but the technique showcase event was even more so.
Was it possible for Sheila, who was still treading in uncharted waters in the special course, to perform a harmonious sword dance?
Nope. Letâs not think of it as more worries, but more opportunities to get to know each other.
She then went to class with a renewed spirit.
As Sheila clenched her fists, the two friends smiled and looked at each other secretly.
After lunch, they parted ways with Zechs in the cafeteria.
Sheila and Cody went straight to the training hall, but she temporarily left Cody in front of the staff building. It was a good opportunity to stop by the restroom under the guise of being asked by Clauschezade to carry teaching materials.
As usual, she casually stepped into the staff building. It was quiet again today, and the sound of her footsteps echoed loudly.
She recently learned that not many teachers used this building.
Teachers dispatched from the Academic Tower use the Academic Towerâs laboratories, and other teachers were said to be in the main staff room most of the time. Most of them saw the teacherâs office as a room for storing materials and teaching aids.
Itâs convenient for me that there are so few people in there.
Clauschezade disliked the large, congenial staff room, probably because it forced him to do his work, but Sheila thought that his unsociable nature was to blame. He was a hard worker, or rather, he seemed to be taking the initiative in choosing the path of unhappiness. He would be a little more expressive if he had more social interaction.
I guess heâs being distant from others because he has too little expression.
Because of that, only weirdos like Jornwerner came close to him. It was too much of a vicious cycle.
Thinking of Claushezadeâs bad luck, she hurriedly finished using the restroom. Then, she went to the teacherâs office just in case he really needed more help.
âExcuse me.â
She knocked on the door and got no answer, so she took the liberty of peeking in, but Claushezade wasnât there. He mustâve already left for the training hall.
Sheila unconsciously stepped into the room, which was a bad idea.
She suddenly felt the presence of several people outside, and when she turned around, the door had been slammed shut.
She had a terrible sense of déjà vu at the sound of the door slamming.
This pattern again.....
She tried checking to make sure, but the door was still locked. Sheila hung her head in disappointment.
âââDonât get too comfortable, you commoner!â
The cold voice sounded familiar, but Sheilaâs memory failed to identify the individual.
Multiple footsteps receded into the distance, leaving behind a mocking laugh.
â..... Does repeating the same action meant that theyâre done with the new harassment already?â
That was about the only positive thing that came to mind about this situation. However, unlike the last time in the equipment room, the saving grace was that there was a window.
Also, the windows were locked from the inside, so they could be opened and closed. Sheila breathed a sigh of relief and opened the window.
Claushezadeâs office was on the third floor, so it was fairly tall. On top of that, Sheila couldnât use the spirit arts because she was currently wearing a bracelet that blocked her powers.
However, she wouldnât just give up at this point.
She put her foot on the window sill and leaned out the window.
âââYes. I can manage this much.â
Sheila nodded and jumped without hesitation.
While falling, she kicked the wall with a light movement. Once she was a good distance from the outer wall, she spun around on her knees. Sheila landed gracefully on the third spin.
She slowly looked up, nodded her head once again, and ran to the training hall as if nothing had happened.
â â â
At first, several people were involved in harassing Sheila Danau.
Her strength was remarkable, but she was just a commoner. It was one thing to attend the academy, but it was a different story if you entered the special course. It was a very prestigious place that had been reserved for the chosen ones in its long history.
They wanted to hurt her so badly that she would never dare to disobey them and kicked her out of the academy.
And yet, a few of their comrades left.
Their expressions at that time varied.
Some of them turned pale for some reason, and others became dazed as if they were dreaming. Among them, when Dilliam, who had been an enemy of Sheila, left with a mysterious look on his face, they felt a touch of uneasiness.
They wondered if they were dealing with something unthinkable.
That was even more so when they saw Sheilaâs nonchalant attitude in the face of all the harassment.
Still, once they got this far, there was no going back. Since no new ideas came to mind, they decided to go ahead with the once-unsuccessful confinement operation.
They had been watching the situation in the shadows of the school building, thinking that they would make a laughingstock out of the sight of Sheila Danau crying out in shame after being locked in.
However, despite all that, Sheila Danau never reacted as they had hoped.
She suddenly looked out of the window and measured the distance from the ground. With a nod, she put her foot on the window sill and flew out.
They hurriedly swallowed their startled screams.
Sheila Danau shifted her position beautifully in mid-air and landed with a light thud as if she weighed nothing. She then left as if nothing had happened.
They were stunned.
Although they would never say it out loud because it was so frustrating, they were definitely all in awe of the sight.
No taunts of âyou wild mountain monkeyâ ever crossed their mind. Rather, with the sunshine and blue sky behind her, she looked like an angelâ
âIf weâre late, Claushezade-sensei will be furious with us.â
They only managed to come to their senses when they heard such murmurs from Sheila Danau, who was moving away from them.
Right. If they werenât on time for the start of class, they would be noticed by the intimidating teacher. Even the cheeky Sheila Danau was still responsible for cleaning the bathroom all by herself because of that. They didnât want that to happen. As if caught in the middle, they rushed out to run.
They made it to class just in time, but while they were gasping for breath, Sheila was unperturbed.
It was only natural that they felt a sense of inexpressible frustration.
Since then, the harassment of Sheila had ceased abruptly. | {
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俺ãéå£ã§å®ããªãã£ãå£ãåºã倩äºã«ç Žçãã¶ã€ãã倧ããªé³ã鳎ã£ãã | I faced the ambassador and spoke coolly.
âAmbassador, I hope that you do not think that you can get away with aiding the dark ones and opening up a hole in the divine protection?â
âWhat gross accusations!â
âI see. So, where is the device that was used to make the hole?â
I did not expect to get an answer. And so I used magic to search the place while talking.
However, there must have been layers of concealment magic here, as I could not detect anything.
And since I was talking with the ambassador at the same time, it took a little longer.
And so I said to the others,
âShia, Serulus. You two deal with the ambassador.â
âTh-the ambasador? Deal with him? I donât know if I can do that. I donât like talking to important people.â
âYouâre a knight, Shia. You will be fine. Besides, you talk with Eric all of the time.â
âThat is true, but...â
âDonât worry. Just talk about something random and keep him from running away. We just need to buy some time in order to find the vampires.â
âStill, I am not very confident. Serulis, can you do it?â
Shia had little experience with talking with nobles.
That was normal for an Adventurer, so it could not be helped.
Serulis said confidently.
âYour Excellency. It has been so long.â
And then she bowed like the graceful noble lady that she was.
â...? Ah, you are the daughter of Her Excellency, Marquess Schmitt.â
After looking at her suspiciously for a second, he quickly realized who Serulis was.
Marquess Schmitt was Serulisâs mother, Marguerite.
âYes. It is unfortunate that we have met in such circumstances.â âVery unfortunate indeed. I never thought the daughter of Ambassador Schmitt would be involved with such rebels...â âYour Excellency, given your position, why did you decide to offer your help to the dark ones?â
The ambassador called us rebels, and Serulis said that he was with the dark ones.
As both sides were accused of doing something bad, they made a show of looking sad.
It was a good way to buy time.
âHey! What are you doing!â
The ambassador shouted angrily when he saw that I was moving.
But I continued to search silently.
The closer I was, the easier it would be to see through concealment magic.
âYour Excellency...â
Serulis tried to distract him. However, his eyes were now fixed on me.
That pretty much confirmed that there was something here that he did not want me to find.
And that thing was likely the device that had tore a hole into the divine protection barrier.
âHmm?â
After searching the room for one minute, I found a place that was suspicious.
It looked like an ordinary wall. However, it was actually a door that had been hidden with powerful concealment magic.
But when I tried to touch it...
The ambassador roared as he unsheathed his sword and moved towards me.
âYour Excellency, we have not finished talking yet.â
Serulis grabbed him by the sleeve and threw him to the floor.
She did not even need to draw out her sword.
âGah!â
The ambassador fell on his back and wailed.
He was no amateur. Judging by how he had thrown the spear at me, he was a first-rate warrior.
However, Serulis had brought him down with just one hand.
âYour Excellency, shall we continue our talk?â
Serulis said with a pretty smile as she looked down at the groaning man.
âThank you, Serulis.â
âIâm fine. Leave this to me.â
She was very reliable. And so I started to disarm the concealment magic that was cast on the door.
And then what just looked like a wall, suddenly transformed into a solid metal door.
This wasnât ordinary metal. It was likely mainly made of orichalcum.
On top of that, there was foolâs gold in it as well.
That meant that the dark ones had so much foolâs gold that they could put it inside of doors.
âThis is an impressive door. It must have taken a lot of time and money to make.â I said.
âDonât touch it! It is not something that a bastard like you should touch!â
He wailed. But I ignored the ambassador and touched the door.
It had powerful Lock magic cast on it.
And it was about as strong as the magic cast on the treasure room doors of the royal palace.
The ambassador tried to get up so that he could attack me, but Serulis just tripped him again.
There was a low sound, and the lock opened. And just as I put my hand on the door and was about to open it...
âBoom.
The door itself exploded.
The metal door turned into tiny fragments that flew in every direction at a high speed.
It had such power, that even one small shard could cause a deadly blow.
And as the party sorcerer, I had to protect Serulis, Shia, Grulf and Lord Gerberga.
And so the moment I detected that there would be an explosion, I cast a magic barrier.
Everything that wasnât protected, the walls, the floor and ceiling were hit, causing a loud noise. | {
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ã·ãŒãã¯ç§ã®èšèã«éãã«ããè¿ããã | I think we walked quite a bit. The landscape, which had been the same for so long, seemed to be changing little by little.
It was a little brighter overall, and the grass was thicker on the ground. The humidity was gone, and I felt as if I was breathing fresh air.
...Déjà vu? It reminds me of when I met Kii.
âHere we are.â
Sheena stopped in her tracks. In front of us was a dead end. There was only a brown rock wall facing us.
Did you want me to break down this wall?
Although I work out, I never had that much stupidity. I might be able to break it if it was a very deteriorated rock.
Well, I just had to give it a try! I could at least let the walls fall down!
âOkay. I just have to destroy it, right?â
I said and prepared to kick at the wall.
Sheena immediately replies, âNo, donâtâ.
I looked at Sheena as I prepared to jump kick the wall.
I didnât expect to be brought to a dead end after coming all the way here....
Maybe we took a wrong turn or something.
âAlicia-sama is strange...and unique.â
At least say something like, âItâs interesting.â
I stared at Sheena. Sheena looked at me and smiled, narrowing her eyes at me.
âIf you break this wall, all you will have is rock. So letâs go down.â
Saying this, she lightly tapped the heel of her shoe on the ground twice. At that moment, the ground opened up.
We fell from the spot. We fell with great speed for the first few seconds, but after a little while it slowed down. I was speechless from surprise.
I had no idea what was happening to me right now. How could something like that happen?
The floor was rigged to open...or rather, it looked as if Sheena gave a signal.
The view as we fell was like being in a blue sky. There were clouds and a beautiful clear sky in front of us.
...A beautiful place.
Wait, this was no time to be enraptured by the view! Why was there a sky under the floor?
I looked at Sheena, who was falling with me with a calm expression on her face.
What a beautiful expression on her face as she fell.... No wonder, she was holding a teacup full of tea.
âHey, where are we!â
A villainess should always keep her cool, but the shock was too much, and I ended up shouting loudly.
It couldnât be helped. No one could have predicted this.
I did my best to stay calm. After all, just a moment ago I was on the ground, and then all of a sudden, I fell, and now Iâm suddenly in the sky.
...I could only think that it was magic.
âYouâll find out soon enough.â
â...I mean, how will we land on the ground?â
âIt will be fine.â
Sheena smiled reassuringly at me, but I was not the least bit reassured.
Why wonât you provide me with any information.... I didnât want to just fall to my death. Then I would rather die fighting God.
While I was thinking about this in a daze, I saw the ground.
...A field of flowers.
Tiny flowers in a variety of pastel colors were blooming vibrantly. Everything was covered with flowers, even in the distance.
I couldnât help but be glued to the view in front of me, thinking, âHow wonderful!â.
This was a place that girls would love to visit.
It was filled with cuteness, and it stimulated my girlish heart. If I confessed my feelings at a place like this, I would be % sure that I would succeed.
âItâs very different from the place we were at a while ago.â
âIs it? Even that dimly lit passageway looks nice to me.â
Sheena quietly replied to my words. | {
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ããã³ãšæã鳎ãããŠåã¶ã³ã«ãã£ãã | We headed to the church while I held Fina in my arms. Finia, Maria, and Lyell were coming with me. As well as Ashella who was dressed overly extravagantly. After looking over them, I realized that someone was missing.
âHuh, wait, whereâs Cortina?â
âOh, we sent her on endurance training with someone to monitor her. Itâs been three hours.â
âOof...â
Cortina, being of a feline race, was by no means weak physically. Rather, her race far exceeded humans in terms of explosive power. However, when it came to stamina, they were at most on a humanâs level, or even lower.
This was apparently because their muscles developed that way to maintain their high explosive power. It seems this was also the reason why many of their members had petite builds.
And that Cortina was out on a three-hour endurance run now? Even Iâd die from that.
âMommy, look, look, people are avoiding us.â
here dressed in fancy clothes to appear young.â
âMaria, why do I feel like your words are thorny?â
âWell of course. I was supposed to hold this baptism ceremony, but you snatched it from me.â
âOh come on, thatâs because you didnât call me during Nicoleâs baptism!â
Ashella made excuses while flapping her overly long sleeves around.
She looked pretty much like an elementary student from the outside, but she was old enough in reality that Maria could call her aunt. Good grief, just like Whitey, sheâs as immature as it could possibly get.
âBut itâs still your fault, okay? Why did you go and wear such an extravagant vestment in this poor, remote village.â
âOh? But isnât your vestment of even higher quality than mine?â
âBut this one looks simple at least on the outside.â
Looking closely, Mariaâs vestment was plain-looking black, but it felt like it was sucking the light in. Moreover, the surface looked rough and didnât seem to have a texture. It seemed like some sort of skin... Wait, I remember this.
âCould it be Evil Dragonâs membrane?â
âOh, how perceptive of you. I ordered it alongside Lyellâs scale armor when they made it. The seamstress did scold me that a needle couldnât pass through it and she had a hard time.â
â...Iâm surprised she managed to do it.â
âWe used Lyellâs Holy Sword to poke pinholes in it.â
âThatâs such a wild method.â
Using the Holy Sword for pinholes was so sad it made me want to cry. Moreover, there were countless stitches on it, so I couldnât help but think how fruitless it was, considering how much Lyell had to work to make pinholes.
I broke into cold sweat without letting Fina see it. I moved my gaze away from Maria to the front to drop this topic, but then, I saw some kind of tattered, dustcloth-like roll of fur lying on the ground.
âUgh.â
Strangely enough, that fur raised a groan. Wait, it wasnât fur. It was Cortina, who had collapsed due to fatigue and looked like tattered cloth.
Fina jumped down from my arms and dashed to Cortina.
âUgh, Fina, run, thereâs a demon here. And heâs called Lyell....â
âThat means Iâll die! More importantly, who taught you that ominous line?â
âMommy.â
âListen, Fina. Sheâs a traitor. A manipulator.â
âStop telling her such irresponsible things.â
Maria slapped Cortina on the head as she was drilling disturbing ideas into Fina. Then she cast Cure with flowing movements. Her fatigue wouldnât recover, but it could recover her body condition itself.
It seemed to have had some effect, and Cortina staggered to her feet.
âOh, when they saw me drop flat and stop moving, they rushed out to bring water.â
âShouldnât you have called mom instead?â
âIf I did that Iâd have been put through even more pain, you know?!â
âOh, okay...?â
Cortina drew close to me while shedding waterfalls. Unlike before, we were on the same eye level now. Itâs been three years since I left Raum. Iâve grown quite a bit too in these years.
âActually, arenât you a little cruel too, Nicole? You never come to see me!â
âErr, I donât?â
I actually met her all the time as Reid, and I was visiting this place as Nicole too from time to time. I talked to Cortina during those occasions, but she apparently found it lacking.
âI can somehow put up with this hell since I get to adore Fina as much as I want, though.â
âNyaaaaaahhh!â
She ruffled Finaâs hair and rubbed her cheeks with hers as she said that. Because of that, Finaâs tidied-up hair was roughed up. Finia pulled her from Cortinaâs hands and quickly fixed her hair. Finiaâs timidness was gone too, huh.
âThat aside, where are you all going dressed up like that?â
âWeâre going to baptize Fina. Ashella came here for that reason too.â
âOh... Wait, Ashella? Wait, the Pope?!â
âOh, you know about me? Itâs an honor.â
âWhy are you in such a place?! Arenât you a super important person?â
âIt feels strange to hear that from you.â
Maria calmly rebutted her question. With Cortina and Maria present, Ashellaâs importance fell by a level. She was still one of the worldâs most prominent people though.
Cortina looked greatly perplexed, but Ashella wasnât one to back down from it. She was instead puffing her chest proudly, so she probably didnât realize that Cortina was implicitly telling her not to show up here.
âOh well. But I want to come along to the baptism ceremony too.â
âYou wonât be able to get in the church so thereâs no point.â
âEven so! Itâs a rare celebration, so let me participate. Youâre fine with that too, right, Lyell.â
âWell, I did make you run to the limit today, so I guess you can take a break.â
âYaay!â
Cortina snapped her fingers and yelled in joy. And with that, she got to participate in the baptism ceremony as well. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 3,
"inserted_lines_src": 16,
"inserted_lines_trg": 4
} |
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ãµãã€ãã«éå§ãã1æéãçµéããããšããŠããã | Even though I was alone, the normal zombies were no match for me.
I shot them down and entered the long hallway that connected to the west ward.
âThere are a lot of them here...!â
I turned the corner and saw a group of zombies.
If a player like Kyuka was trapped, then there was a high possibility that there was a special enemy.
The safest strategy to take here was not jumping with Iâm Arrow, but use long range attacks to bring their number down first, and then use Warp Arrow to get close to Kyuka. Then I could hold her and use Iâm Arrow to escape.
Running away would mean turning our backs to the zombies. But Iâm Arrow dealt damage to anything it touched, which would protect us.
âBurning Arrow Storm!â
There was no friendly fire in this battle.
And so I could shoot my arrows without worry, even if Kyuka was surrounded by zombies.
The numerous exploding arrows killed one zombie after another...until there were hardly any left.
Huh? So there wasnât a strong zombie?
Then why had she been struggling so much?
...I guess I would have to ask her.
âWarp Arrow!â
I shot towards Kyuka all at once.
As she knew that I was coming to help her, she was relatively calm, but a little surprised by Warp Arrow.
âSorry. I lost my right arm in the fight. And there were no limb recovery items in this ward...â
So she couldnât use her right arm...!
If it happened to me, I wouldnât be able to use a bow at all. I would be completely defenseless.
As her main weapon was a rapier, she was able to switch to her left hand and continue fighting.
âIâm sure that Gray or Canaria found a recovery item for you.â
Now that I thought about it, Canaria hadnât distributed her items yet...
And so I didnât know what she had found...
Well, it was my fault for not asking.
âNow, letâs retreat. In order to do that...Iâll need to hold you...â
âDonât worry about it. Just do it.â
âVery well...Iâm Arrow!â
I held Kyuka and flew through the hallway in a straight line.
We hit the corner wall, slowed down, and then ran the rest of the way to the central ward.
There were more zombies there than before.
Oliver and Anne were not able to keep up, and the zombies were flooding into the floor.
âKyuji here. Mr. Oliver, I was able to rescue Ms. Kyuka. Prepare to retreat!â
âUnderstood! Things are starting to heat up! Over!â
So there was no time to talk...
I needed to help them!
The front entrance was filled with zombies when we arrived.
Not just the weaker ones, but there were also many special zombies as well.
The worst were the zombies that carried chainsaws.
The sound of them alone was enough to make your legs go weak.
Of course, they also cut through flesh in ways that swords and axes couldnât compare to.
And so I had to disarm them quickly!
âSeal Demon Bind -shot! Exorcism Barrier! Gatling Webcloud Arrow!â
I bound the strong-looking zombies and protected my team mates with a barrier.
As the weak zombies were always close together, the sticky nets were especially effective.
The first net covered numerous zombies and made them roll on the ground like a ball.
âDemonbane Attack Blade! Rapidfire!â
Many of the skills for Exorcism Bow Arts were treated differently, and could not be combined with other skills, and so I just fired them rapidly.
And that was enough to deal with enemies that could no longer move.
Once we had decreased their numbers enough, everyone retreated up the stairs.
There were laser gates installed here as well, and so we activated them immediately.
And like that, things were settled at the front entrance.
âMy mistake caused you all a lot of trouble. Iâm really sorry...â
Kyuka apologized.
However, no one blamed her.
Besides, in the end, everyone had survived, and we had bought some time before the time limit.
I was more interested in the reason.
âWas there an extra dangerous zombie in the west ward?â
âYes. It came out when I pulled a lever. Multiple times.â
So it was the same mistake that Canaria made...!
And multiple times!?
âThe first time that I pulled a lever, a bookcase slid open and revealed a hidden room. There were several great healing items inside. And so I started to think that pulling levers would lead to healing items.â
âI see... Yes, it would be normal to think that after it happened once...â
âIn fact, there were other times when it was the case. However, there were also quite a few traps... And more time passed as I fought the zombies. Many were quite strong, and one took off my arm. It was my mistake...â
While that might be the case, the important thing was that she survived and was gathering items.
Who cares, as long as it ends well...
I was pretty sure that I would be pulling the levers myself if I was in her place.
However, I didnât really know how to say this to her.
â...However, I think that it was still worth the trouble you all went through. Because I got every single item there is to get. Especially since I got a certain item that is vital when trying to survive in a zombie attack.â
Kyuka was suddenly very excited.
Was it really that good of an item...!?
âLook. Itâs a rocket launcher!â
â...â
...Yes, rocket launchers were often seen as being the best weapon against zombies.
However, with waves of numerous zombies pushing at us. Would one shot of a rocket launcher really change that much...?
âOoh! Thatâs amazing, Kyuka! Thatâs why youâre the subleader!â
âWow! Thatâs so cool! We practically have already won now that we have this!â
But Oliver and Anne were very excited, and so I decided to follow along.
It was true that it was a powerful weapon, so it would surely be useful.
âWith this rocket launcher, we can take care of strong zombies with one hit. It will be great during emergencies.â
âRight? And so I will entrust it to you.â
âWhat!?â
âYouâre the one who saved me. Besides, Iâm not used to using ranged weapons. So Iâd want a professional like you to use it.â
While I might have been a professional with a bow, I had never used a rocket launcher before...
Still, I couldnât argue against the logic that someone who used ranged weapons regularly should use it.
And like that, the possible trump card that was the rocket launcher, was put into my hands...
âAh, by the way, Kyuji! How are things on the other side!? Canaria and your buddy are there, arenât they?â
âAh!â
I finished what I came to do, and so I should hurry up and return...!
Oliver had received an item from Gray that would heal Kyukaâs arm, and it was healed immediately.
Now they would have no trouble guarding the staircase.
Kyuka distributed the items she collected in the west ward, and then I drew back and went up the stairs.
I could no longer hear the sounds of the submachine gun that she had been firing off so cheerfully...
I hope that they were alright...!
âAHHHH!! Please donât break the gate!!â
Canaria was still alive and well.
However, there were now zombies that swung giant iron hammers attacking the laser gate.
So, the smart ones had finally appeared...!
âAHhhhhhh!!â
That was Gray shouting now!
It was coming from above, even though there werenât supposed to be any enemies there...
âThings are getting heated...â
It was just as the st hour of survival was almost up. | {
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ãããããã®ã......ã | âWelner von Zeavert has arrived.â
âLet him in.â
âPardon my rudeness.â
I feel like Iâm in a court. Well, itâs close actually. This hearing is practically a military court. At that time, I had no other option than leaving for Alea Village immediately, but it did violate the military law so now letâs be obedient here.
a.k.a evidence so I donât think Iâm going to get the death penalty.
When I entered the camp, Duke Grunding glared at me with a terrifying expression while Grand Duke Seyfart beside him showed his usual expression. Well, he came here as the person that led the supply corps but, as expected, a Grand Duke is a Grand Duke so he sat in one of the highest seats at the table.
The captains of the st and nd Division are sitting on the left and right side each. The rest of high ranked nobles starting from Marquis, the captain of the mage unit (probably), and counts are all here.
Most counts here are probably younger than Father. They seem to be in their thirties or mid-forties, the age people are most thirsty for achieving. Though the knight captains, the marquises, and the captain of the mage unit are older.
âViscount Zeavert, let us hear your argument first.â
Right to the point? I was prepared to hear some berating first though. Then, is it fine for me to assume that everyone here understood my situation?
âYes, sir. Then let me start with what happened.â
I proceeded to explain what had happened as concisely and objectively as possible. If I immediately mentioned my self-defense here, they would think that Iâve done something I need to feel guilty of.
â...So that is what had happened. As for why I decided to take action...â
Now, I explained the reason for my action. My explanation contains my subjective opinion since I need to tell my opinion to justify my action. I didnât do anything suspicious though... No, I think I did. I mean,
Well, no one is going to believe me even if I tell them about my memory so whatever.
âI have sent a messenger bearing my report about my actions to the capital and the Hearthing family is also in the capital. Please send a message to the capital to inquire about it. Until you get your confirmation, I will not mind being put into prison.â
âIâm a deputy count, a noble with peerage. If you treat me as a criminal just based on your doubts, I will get back to you later.â
âWhy didnât you just escort the Hearthing family here?â
âThat is because I have seen the ruins of Valeritz. I judged it would be unwise to show that scenery to normal villagers.â
âNot because of your desertion attempt?â
Several nobles said malicious words like that to me, but I didnât get angry. Iâm a bit surprised by how calm I am. Maybe Iâve spent all my anger in the Alea Village.
âswearing in the name of my familyâ
is that I swear by putting the honor of all Zeavertâs family ancestors in line. The oath in the name of your family is an oath second in importance only to the oath to serve the king.
âYou could have just told others the circumstances and asked them to go.â
âAs I have explained earlier, even though I rushed to the village immediately after I realized what might happen, by the time I reached there, the heroâs family was already in danger. I admit that I am at fault for moving without authorization but I donât think that my decision at that time was wrong.â
âDidnât you also have the choice to ask for assistance from other armies?â
âAt that time, there was only the nd Division in the main camp and it was unclear when or where we would meet up with the rest of the army. And then, we also did not have enough food to go to the village with a large number of people.â
Somehow the people of Count house and below are being really persistent. Ah, I see! Itâs classic
Iâm more than happy to keep
with them but Iâm afraid that the
found a little misalignment in my presentation, this is nothing. Well, in the past, I never thought that this kind of experience was going to be as useful as it is now.
âIs it true that you encountered devils in that village?â
âIt is only a guess that they are devils, but the chance of that guess being true is quite high. I also discovered a strange stone when I killed them.â
âShow it to us.â
Schunzel handed the bag containing the black gem brought along with the soil to someone who was probably an orderly. When the bag is opened and the gem is revealed, the Grand Duke and the leader of the mageâs unit showed complicated expressions. But why?
After that, I held my fort against another flood of slander disguised as questions. I finally spent all my patience and wanted to retaliate when these âquestionsâ started to change into obvious harassment, but then, the Duke butted in.
âLet us stop here. I understand Sirâs claim. For now, you may leave.â
âYes.â
With the boss... I mean the Dukeâs words, my questioning finally came to an end. Huff... Iâm tired. Letâs obediently leave.
âI would like for the Grand Duke, the two Marquises, the two knight divisionâs captains, and the leader of the Mageâs unit to remain. The rest please return to the frontline to prepare in case of an enemyâs attack.â
âDuke, but...â
âIt will be harder to talk with too many people. Or perhaps you cannot trust the people that will remain here?â
âO...Of course not!â
I heard a nobleâs complaint was immediately shooted down as I left the headquarters. After that, I went to the tent next to the headquarters.
Hah... Iâm tired. I let out a breath after sitting on the ground. I probably wonât be declared innocent. What I did violated the military law after all. I wonder what kind of punishment I will get.rd Pov
After confirming that they had left, the Duke sat down again and let out a sigh. He then proceeded to gaze at the people that had remained in the headquarters and said, âWhat is the opinion of Sirs about Viscount Zeavertâs action?â
âI judged that the viscount has no intention to desert the armyâ
The first person that answered the Dukeâs question is the nd divisionâs captain, Hindermann. The first time he and Welner met was when Welner arrived in Valeritz a few days prior but Hindermann has always held Welner in high esteem.
âPerhaps, this time he truly had the intention?â
Marquis Norporth said, but it was not out of malice. His tone suggests that he purely wished for confirmation.
âHe tends to move without authorization but I donât think heâs a coward. His attitude earlier was also quite confident. It was this countryâs blunder for not paying attention to the heroâs family. We can even consider his action as a military achievement.â
The captain of the st division, Vilsmaier, responded to the Marquisâs question. He didnât have any particular good or bad relationship with Welner. He simply stated his judgment.
The Marquis answered, âHe certainly has a tendency to move without authorization.â and this might now become a common perception of Weinerâs character.
âEven though heâs young, he was quite calm. Maybe he acted calm because he truly has done nothing worthy of our suspicion?â Hindermann asked
âHe was
Marquis Schramm refuted Hindermannâs claim. The captain of Mage Unit glanced at the silent Grand Duke before finally saying, âI still need to investigate it but the Viscount has perhaps earned for himself a considerable achievement.â
âWhat do you mean?â
To answer the Dukeâs question, the captain of the Mage Unit pointed to the stone that Welner had brought.
âThis stone appears to be the same as the one that has been recovered during the stampede and the Veritza Fortress incident.â
âWell...â
The Grand Duke finally opened his mouth.
âI have seen the stone that was recovered after the death of the general of the Veritza Fortressâs army and it looks exactly like this stone.â
A small commotion arose among everyone in the tent. The Grand Duke still had a complicated expression.
âThatâs hard to believe...â
âThatâs not what I meant. In any case, captain of the Mage Unit, I want you to safely transport this stone to the capital for an investigation.â
âUnderstood.â
The captain of the mage unit bowed his head respectfully and proceeded to take the stone for safekeeping. After that, Marquis Schramm asked, âPutting the matter of this unknown stone aside, I would like to talk about what action should we take concerning the viscountâs act of leaving his post.â
âThe fact that he saved the heroâs family can be considered an achievement but he did leave his post without authorization. Grand Duke, what do you think we should do to him?â
No one in the tent claimed that Welner deserved severe punishment. The Grand Duke stroked his chin and answered the Dukeâs question, âHmm... Well...â | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 4,
"inserted_lines_src": 5,
"inserted_lines_trg": 16
} |
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ãã ç§åŠã«å¯Ÿããèå³ãæãã ãã®ä»çµã¿ãæããããšãã§ãããªã ããã¯ãããããšã ãšæããŸã ããããšãããããŸãã | That's almost my name. SETI: Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence.
In other words, I look for aliens, and when I tell people that at a cocktail party, they usually look at me with a mildly incredulous look on their face.
I try to keep my own face somewhat dispassionate.
Now, a lot of people think that this is kind of idealistic, ridiculous, maybe even hopeless, but I just want to talk to you a little bit about why I think that the job I have is actually a privilege, okay, and give you a little bit of the motivation for my getting into this line of work, if that's what you call it.
This thing â whoops, can we go back?
Hello, come in, Earth.
There we go. All right.
This is the Owens Valley Radio Observatory behind the Sierra Nevadas, and in 1968, I was working there collecting data for my thesis.
Now, it's kinda lonely, it's kinda tedious, just collecting data, so I would amuse myself by taking photos at night of the telescopes or even of myself, because, you know, at night, I would be the only hominid So here are pictures of myself.
The observatory had just acquired a new book, written by a Russian cosmologist by the name of Joseph Shklovsky, and then expanded Cornell astronomer by the name of Carl Sagan. And I remember reading that book, and it was explaining how the antennas I was using to measure the spins of galaxies could also be used to communicate, to send bits of information from one star system to another.
Now, at 3 o'clock in the morning when you're all alone, haven't had much sleep, that was a very romantic idea, but it was that idea -- the fact that you could in fact just using this same technology -- that appealed to me so much that 20 years later I took a job at the SETI Institute. Now, I have to say that my memory is notoriously porous, and I've often
wondered whether there was any truth in this story, or I was just, you know, misremembering something, but I recently just blew up this old negative of mine, and sure enough, there you can see the Shklovsky and Sagan book underneath that analog calculating device.
So it was true.
All right. Now, the idea for doing this, it wasn't very old at the time that I made that photo.
The idea dates from 1960, when a young astronomer by the name of Frank Drake used this antenna in West Virginia, pointed it at a couple of nearby stars in the hopes of eavesdropping on E.T.
Now, Frank didn't hear anything.
Actually he did, but it turned out to be the U.S. Air Force, which doesn't count as extraterrestrial intelligence.
But Drake's idea here became very popular because it was very appealing â and I'll get back to that â and on the basis of this experiment, which didn't succeed, we have been doing SETI ever since, not continuously, but ever since.
We still haven't heard anything.
We still haven't heard anything.
In fact, we don't know about any life beyond Earth, but I'm going to suggest to you that that's going to change rather soon, and part of the reason, in fact, the majority of the reason why I think that's going to change is that the equipment's getting better.
This is the Allen Telescope Array, about 350 miles from whatever seat you're in right now.
This is something that we're using today to search for E.T., and the electronics have gotten very much better too.
This is Frank Drake's electronics in 1960.
This is the Allen Telescope Array electronics today.
Some pundit with too much time on his hands has reckoned that the new experiments are approximately 100 trillion times better than they were in 1960, 100 trillion times better.
That's a degree of an improvement that would look good on your report card, okay?
But something that's not appreciated by the public is, in fact, that the experiment continues to get better, and, consequently, tends to get faster.
This is a little plot, and every time you show a plot, you lose 10 percent of the audience.
I have 12 of these. But what I plotted here is just some metric that shows how fast we're searching.
In other words, we're looking for a needle in a haystack.
We know how big the haystack is. It's the galaxy.
But we're going through the haystack no longer with a teaspoon but with a skip loader, because of this increase in speed.
In fact, those of you who are still conscious and mathematically competent, will note that this is a semi-log plot.
In other words, the rate of increase is exponential.
It's exponentially improving. Now, exponential is an overworked word. You hear it on the media all the time.
They don't really know what exponential means, but this is exponential.
In fact, it's doubling every 18 months, and, of course, every card-carrying member of the digerati knows that that's Moore's Law.
So this means that over the course of the next two dozen years, we'll be able to look at a million star systems, a million star systems, looking for signals that would prove somebody's out there.
Well, a million star systems, is that interesting?
I mean, how many of those star systems have planets?
even as recently as 15 years ago, and in fact, we really didn't know it even as recently as six months ago.
But now we do. Recent results suggest that virtually every star has planets, and more than one.
They're like, you know, kittens. You get a litter.
You don't get one kitten. You get a bunch.
So in fact, this is a pretty accurate estimate of the number of planets in our galaxy, just in our galaxy, by the way, and I remind the non-astronomy majors among you that our galaxy is only one of 100 billion that we can see with our telescopes.
That's a lot of real estate, but of course, most of these planets are going to be kind of worthless, like, you know, Mercury, or Neptune.
Neptune's probably not very big in your life.
So the question is, what fraction of these planets are actually suitable for life?
We don't know the answer to that either, but we will learn that answer this year, thanks to NASA's Kepler Space Telescope, and in fact, the smart money, which is to say the people who work on this project, the smart money is suggesting that the fraction of planets that might be suitable for life is maybe one in a thousand, one in a hundred, something like that.
Well, even taking the pessimistic estimate, that it's one in a thousand, that means that there are at least a billion cousins of the Earth just in our own galaxy.
Okay, now I've given you a lot of numbers here, but they're mostly big numbers, okay, so, you know, keep that in mind. There's plenty of real estate, plenty of real estate in the universe, and if we're the only bit of real estate in which there's some interesting occupants, that makes you a miracle, and I know you like to think you're a miracle, but if you do science, you learn rather quickly that
every time you think you're a miracle, you're wrong, so probably not the case.
All right, so the bottom line is this: Because of the increase in speed, and because of the vast amount of habitable real estate in the cosmos, I figure we're going to pick up a signal within two dozen years.
And I feel strongly enough about that to make a bet with you: Either we're going to find E.T. in the next two dozen years, or I'll buy you a cup of coffee.
So that's not so bad. I mean, even with two dozen years, you open up your browser and there's news of a signal, or you get a cup of coffee.
Now, let me tell you about some aspect of this that people don't think about, and that is, what happens? Suppose that what I say is true.
I mean, who knows, but suppose it happens.
Suppose some time in the next two dozen years we pick up a faint line that tells us What is the effect? What's the consequence?
Now, I might be at ground zero for this.
I happen to know what the consequence for me would be, because we've had false alarms. This is 1997, and this is a photo I made at about 3 o'clock in the morning in Mountain View here, when we were watching the computer monitors because we had picked up a signal that we thought, "This is the real deal." All right?
And I kept waiting for the Men in Black to show up. Right?
I kept waiting for -- I kept waiting for my mom to call, somebody to call, the government to call. Nobody called.
Nobody called. I was so nervous that I couldn't sit down. I just wandered around taking photos like this one, just for something to do.
Well, at 9:30 in the morning, with my head down on my desk because I obviously hadn't slept all night, the phone rings and it's The New York Times.
And I think there's a lesson in that, and that lesson is that if we pick up a signal, the media, the media will be on it faster than a weasel on ball bearings. It's going to be fast.
You can be sure of that. No secrecy.
That's what happens to me. It kind of ruins my whole week, because whatever I've got planned that week is kind of out the window.
But what about you? What's it going to do to you?
And the answer is that we don't know the answer.
We don't know what that's going to do to you, not in the long term, and not even very much in the short term.
I mean, that would be a bit like asking Chris Columbus in 1491, "Hey Chris, you know, what happens if it turns out that there's a continent between here and Japan, where you're sailing to, what will be the consequences for humanity if that turns out to be the case?"
And I think Chris would probably offer you some answer that you might not have understood, but it probably wouldn't have been right, and I think that to predict what finding E.T.'s going to mean, we can't predict that either.
But here are a couple things I can say.
To begin with, it's going to be a society that's way in advance of our own.
You're not going to hear from alien Neanderthals.
They're not building transmitters.
years, maybe by a few millions years, but substantially ahead of us, and that means, if you can understand anything that they're going to say, then you might be able to short-circuit history by getting information from a society that's way beyond our own.
Now, you might find that a bit hyperbolic, and maybe it is, but nonetheless, it's conceivable that this will happen, and, you know, you could consider this like, I don't know, giving Julius Caesar English lessons and the key to the library of Congress.
It would change his day, all right?
That's one thing. Another thing that's for sure going to happen is that it will calibrate us.
We will know that we're not that miracle, right, that we're just another duck in a row, we're not the only kids on the block, and I think that that's philosophically a very profound thing to learn.
We're not a miracle, okay?
The third thing that it might tell you is somewhat vague, but I think interesting and important, and that is, if you find a signal coming from a more advanced society, because they will be, that will tell you something about our own possibilities, that we're not inevitably doomed to self-destruction.
Because they survived their technology, we could do it too.
Normally when you look out into the universe, you're looking back in time. All right?
That's interesting to cosmologists.
But in this sense, you actually can look into the future, hazily, but you can look into the future.
So those are all the sorts of things that would come from a detection.
Now, let me talk a little bit about something that happens even in the meantime, and that is, SETI, I think, is important, because it's exploration, and it's not only exploration, it's comprehensible exploration.
explorers. I find exploration very interesting, Arctic exploration, you know, people like Magellan, Amundsen, Shackleton, you see Franklin down there, Scott, all these guys. It's really nifty, exploration.
And they're just doing it because they want to explore, and you might say, "Oh, that's kind of a frivolous opportunity," but that's not frivolous. That's not a frivolous activity, because, I mean, think of ants.
You know, most ants are programmed to follow one another along in a long line, but there are a couple of ants, maybe one percent of those ants, that are what they call pioneer ants, and they're the ones that wander off.
They're the ones you find on the kitchen countertop.
You gotta get them with your thumb before they find the sugar or something.
But those ants, even though most of them get wiped out, those ants are the ones that are essential to the survival of the hive. So exploration is important.
I also think that exploration is important in terms of being able to address what I think is a critical lack in our society, and that is the lack of science literacy, the lack of the ability to even understand science.
Now, look, a lot has been written about the deplorable state of science literacy in this country.
You've heard about it.
Well, here's one example, in fact.
Polls taken, this poll was taken 10 years ago.
It shows like roughly one third of the public thinks that aliens are not only out there, we're looking for them out there, but they're here, right?
Sailing the skies in their saucers and occasionally abducting people for experiments their parents wouldn't approve of.
Well, that would be interesting if it was true, and job security for me, but I don't think the evidence is But there are other things that people believe that are significant, like the efficacy of homeopathy, or that evolution is just, you know, sort of a crazy idea by scientists without any legs, or, you know, evolution, all that sort of thing, or global warming.
These sorts of ideas don't really have any validity, that you can't trust the scientists.
Now, we've got to solve that problem, because that's a critically important problem, and you might say, "Well, okay, how are we gonna solve that problem with SETI?"
Well, let me suggest to you that SETI obviously can't solve the problem, but it can address the problem.
It can address the problem by getting young people interested in science. Look, science is hard, it has a reputation of being hard, and the facts are, it is hard, and that's the result of 400 years of science, right?
I mean, in the 18th century, in the 18th century you could become an expert on any field of science if you could find the library, right?
In the 19th century, if you had a basement lab, you could make major scientific discoveries in your own home. Right? Because there was all this science just lying around waiting for somebody to pick it up.
Now, that's not true anymore.
Today, you've got to spend years in grad school and post-doc positions just to figure out what the important questions are.
It's hard. There's no doubt about it.
And in fact, here's an example: the Higgs boson, finding the Higgs boson.
Ask the next 10 people you see on the streets, "Hey, do you think it's worthwhile to spend billions of Swiss francs looking for the Higgs boson?"
And I bet the answer you're going to get, is, "Well, I don't know what the Higgs boson is, and I don't know if it's important."
the value of a Swiss franc, okay?
And yet we're spending billions of Swiss francs on this problem.
Okay? So that doesn't get people interested in science because they can't comprehend what it's about.
SETI, on the other hand, is really simple.
We're going to use these big antennas and we're going to try to eavesdrop on signals. Everybody can understand that.
Yes, technologically, it's very sophisticated, but everybody gets the idea.
So that's one thing. The other thing is, it's exciting science.
It's exciting because we're naturally interested in other intelligent beings, and I think that's part of our hardwiring.
I mean, we're hardwired to be interested in beings that might be, if you will, competitors, or if you're the romantic sort, possibly even mates. Okay?
I mean, this is analogous to our interest in things that have big teeth. Right?
We're interested in things that have big teeth, and you can see the evolutionary value of that, and you can also see the practical consequences by watching Animal Planet.
You notice they make very few programs about gerbils.
It's mostly about things that have big teeth.
Okay, so we're interested in these sorts of things.
And not just us. It's also kids.
This allows you to pay it forward by using this subject as a hook to science, because SETI involves all kinds of science, obviously biology, obviously astronomy, but also geology, also chemistry, various scientific disciplines all can be presented in the guise of, "We're looking for E.T."
So to me this is interesting and important, and in fact, it's my policy, even though I give a lot of talks to adults, you give talks to adults, and two days later they're back where they were.
But if you give talks to kids, you know, one in 50 of them, some light bulb goes off, and they think, "Gee, I'd never thought of that," and then they go, you know, read a book or a magazine or whatever.
They get interested in something.
Now it's my theory, supported only by anecdotal, that kids get interested in something between the ages of eight and 11. You've got to get them there.
So, all right, I give talks to adults, that's fine, but I try and make 10 percent of the talks that I give, I try and make those for kids.
I remember when a guy came to our high school, actually, it was actually my junior high school. I was in sixth grade.
And he gave some talk. All I remember from it was one word: electronics.
It was like Dustin Hoffman in "The Graduate," right, when he said "plastics," whatever that means, plastics.
All right, so the guy said electronics. I don't remember anything else. In fact, I don't remember anything that my sixth grade teacher said all year, but I remember electronics.
And so I got interested in electronics, and you know, I studied to get my ham license. I was wiring up stuff.
Here I am at about 15 or something, doing that sort of stuff.
Okay? That had a big effect on me.
So that's my point, that you can have a big effect In fact, this reminds me, I don't know, a couple years ago I gave a talk at a school in Palo Alto where there were about a dozen 11-year-olds that had come to this talk.
I had been brought in to talk to these kids for an hour.
Eleven-year-olds, they're all sitting in a little semi-circle looking up at me with big eyes, and I started, there was a white board behind me, and I started off by writing a one with 22 zeroes after it, and I said, "All right, now look, this is the number of stars in the visible universe, and this number is so big there's not even a name for it."
And one of these kids shot up his hand, and he said, "Well, actually there is a name for it.
It's a sextra-quadra-hexa-something or other." Right?
Now, that kid was wrong by four orders of magnitude, but there was no doubt about it, these kids were smart.
Okay? So I stopped giving the lecture.
All they wanted to do was ask questions.
In fact, my last comments to these kids, at the end I said, "You know, you kids are smarter than the people I work with." Now â They didn't even care about that.
What they wanted was my email address so they could ask me more questions. Let me just say, look, my job is a privilege because we're in a special time.
Previous generations couldn't do this experiment at all.
In another generation down the line, I think we will have succeeded.
So to me, it is a privilege, and when I look in the mirror, the facts are that I really don't see myself.
What I see is the generation behind me.
These are some kids from the Huff School, fourth graders.
I talked there, what, two weeks ago, something like that.
I think that if you can instill some interest in science and how it works, well, that's a payoff beyond easy measure. Thank you very much. | {
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ã®äžã®äžéšã®è²¢ç®ã§ã§ããã®ã§ã ããããšãããããŸãã | So the bad news is that we all get sick.
I get sick. You get sick.
And every one of us gets sick, and the question really is, how sick do we get? Is it something that kills us?
Is it something that we survive?
Is it something that we can treat?
And we've gotten sick as long as we've been people.
And so we've always looked for reasons to explain why we get sick.
And for a long time, it was the gods, right?
The gods are angry with me, or the gods are testing me, right? Or God, singular, more recently, is punishing me or judging me.
And as long as we've looked for explanations, we've wound up with something that gets closer and closer to science, which is hypotheses as to why we get sick, and as long as we've had hypotheses about why we get sick, we've tried to treat it as well.
So this is Avicenna. He wrote a book over a thousand years ago called "The Canon of Medicine," and the rules he laid out for testing medicines are actually really similar to the rules we have today, that the disease and the medicine must be the same strength, the medicine needs to be pure, and in the end we need to test it in people. And so if you put together these themes
of a narrative or a hypothesis in human testing, right, you get some beautiful results, even when we didn't have very good technologies.
This is a guy named Carlos Finlay. He had a hypothesis that was way outside the box for his time, in the late 1800s.
He thought yellow fever was not transmitted by dirty clothing.
He thought it was transmitted by mosquitos.
And they laughed at him. For 20 years, they called this guy "the mosquito man." But he ran an experiment in people, right? He had this hypothesis, and he tested it in people.
So he got volunteers to go move to Cuba and live in tents and be voluntarily infected with yellow fever.
So some of the people in some of the tents had dirty clothes and some of the people were in tents that were full of mosquitos that had been exposed to yellow fever.
And it definitively proved that it wasn't this magic dust called fomites in your clothes that caused yellow fever.
But it wasn't until we tested it in people that we actually knew.
And this is what those people signed up for.
This is what it looked like to have yellow fever in Cuba at that time. You suffered in a tent, in the heat, alone, and you probably died.
But people volunteered for this.
And it's not just a cool example of a scientific design of experiment in theory. They also did this beautiful thing.
They signed this document, and it's called an informed consent document.
And informed consent is an idea that we should be very proud of as a society, right? It's something that separates us from the Nazis at Nuremberg, enforced medical experimentation. It's the idea that agreement to join a study without understanding isn't agreement.
It's something that protects us from harm, from hucksters, from people that would try to hoodwink us into a clinical study that we don't understand, or that we don't agree to.
And so you put together the thread of narrative hypothesis, experimentation in humans, and informed consent, and you get what we call clinical study, and it's how we do the vast majority of medical work. It doesn't really matter if you're in the north, the south, the east, the west.
Clinical studies form the basis of how we investigate, so if we're going to look at a new drug, right, we test it in people, we draw blood, we do experiments, and we gain consent for that study, to make sure that we're not screwing people over as part of it.
But the world is changing around the clinical study, which has been fairly well established for tens of years if not 50 to 100 years.
So now we're able to gather data about our genomes, but, as we saw earlier, our genomes aren't dispositive.
We're able to gather information about our environment.
And more importantly, we're able to gather information about our choices, because it turns out that what we think of as our health is more like the interaction of our bodies, our genomes, our choices and our environment.
And the clinical methods that we've got aren't very good at studying that because they are based on the idea of person-to-person interaction. You interact with your doctor and you get enrolled in the study.
So this is my grandfather. I actually never met him, but he's holding my mom, and his genes are in me, right?
His choices ran through to me. He was a smoker, like most people were. This is my son.
So my grandfather's genes go all the way through to him, and my choices are going to affect his health.
The technology between these two pictures cannot be more different, but the methodology for clinical studies has not radically changed over that time period.
We just have better statistics.
The way we gain informed consent was formed in large part after World War II, around the time that picture was taken.
That was 70 years ago, and the way we gain informed consent, this tool that was created to protect us from harm, now creates silos. So the data that we collect for prostate cancer or for Alzheimer's trials goes into silos where it can only be used for prostate cancer or for Alzheimer's research.
Right? It can't be networked. It can't be integrated.
It cannot be used by people who aren't credentialed.
So a physicist can't get access to it without filing paperwork.
A computer scientist can't get access to it without filing paperwork.
Computer scientists aren't patient. They don't file paperwork.
And this is an accident. These are tools that we created to protect us from harm, but what they're doing is protecting us from innovation now.
And that wasn't the goal. It wasn't the point. Right?
It's a side effect, if you will, of a power we created to take us for good.
And so if you think about it, the depressing thing is that Facebook would never make a change to something as important as an advertising algorithm with a sample size as small as a Phase III clinical trial.
We cannot take the information from past trials and put them together to form statistically significant samples.
And that sucks, right? So 45 percent of men develop cancer. Thirty-eight percent of women develop cancer.
One in four men dies of cancer.
One in five women dies of cancer, at least in the United States.
And three out of the four drugs we give you if you get cancer fail. And this is personal to me.
My sister is a cancer survivor.
My mother-in-law is a cancer survivor. Cancer sucks.
And when you have it, you don't have a lot of privacy in the hospital. You're naked the vast majority of the time.
People you don't know come in and look at you and poke you and prod you, and when I tell cancer survivors that this tool we created to protect them is actually preventing their data from being used, especially when only three to four percent of people who have cancer ever even sign up for a clinical study, their reaction is not, "Thank you, God, for protecting my privacy."
It's outrage that we have this information and we can't use it.
And it's an accident.
So the cost in blood and treasure of this is enormous.
Two hundred and twenty-six billion a year is spent on cancer in the United States.
Fifteen hundred people a day die in the United States.
And it's getting worse.
So the good news is that some things have changed, and the most important thing that's changed is that we can now measure ourselves in ways that used to be the dominion of the health system.
So a lot of people talk about it as digital exhaust.
I like to think of it as the dust that runs along behind my kid.
We can reach back and grab that dust, and we can learn a lot about health from it, so if our choices are part of our health, what we eat is a really important aspect of our health. So you can do something very simple and basic and take a picture of your food, and if enough people do that, we can learn a lot about how our food affects our health.
One interesting thing that came out of this â this is an app for iPhones called The Eatery â is that we think our pizza is significantly healthier than other people's pizza is. Okay? And it seems like a trivial result, but this is the sort of research that used to take the health system years and hundreds of thousands of dollars to accomplish.
It was done in five months by a startup company of a couple of people.
I don't have any financial interest in it.
But more nontrivially, we can get our genotypes done, and although our genotypes aren't dispositive, they give us clues.
So I could show you mine. It's just A's, T's, C's and G's.
This is the interpretation of it. As you can see, I carry a 32 percent risk of prostate cancer, 22 percent risk of psoriasis and a 14 percent risk of Alzheimer's disease.
So that means, if you're a geneticist, you're freaking out, going, "Oh my God, you told everyone you carry the ApoE E4 allele. What's wrong with you?"
Right? When I got these results, I started talking to doctors, and they told me not to tell anyone, and my reaction is, "Is that going to help anyone cure me when I get the disease?"
And no one could tell me yes.
And I live in a web world where, when you share things, beautiful stuff happens, not bad stuff.
So I started putting this in my slide decks, and I got even more obnoxious, and I went to my doctor, and I said, "I'd like to actually get my bloodwork.
Please give me back my data." So this is my most recent bloodwork.
As you can see, I have high cholesterol.
I have particularly high bad cholesterol, and I have some bad liver numbers, but those are because we had a dinner party with a lot of good wine the night before we ran the test. Right. But look at how non-computable this information is.
This is like the photograph of my granddad holding my mom from a data perspective, and I had to go into the system and get it out.
So the thing that I'm proposing we do here is that we reach behind us and we grab the dust, that we reach into our bodies and we grab the genotype, and we reach into the medical system and we grab our records, and we use it to build something together, which is a commons.
And there's been a lot of talk about commonses, right, here, there, everywhere, right. A commons is nothing more than a public good that we build out of private goods.
We do it voluntarily, and we do it through standardized legal tools. We do it through standardized technologies.
Right. That's all a commons is. It's something that we build together because we think it's important.
And a commons of data is something that's really unique, because we make it from our own data. And although a lot of people like privacy as their methodology of control around data, and obsess around privacy, at least some of us really like to share as a form of control, and what's remarkable about digital commonses is you don't need a big percentage if your sample size is big enough
to generate something massive and beautiful.
So not that many programmers write free software, but we have the Apache web server.
Not that many people who read Wikipedia edit, but it works. So as long as some people like to share as their form of control, we can build a commons, as long as we can get the information out.
And in biology, the numbers are even better.
So Vanderbilt ran a study asking people, we'd like to take your biosamples, your blood, and share them in a biobank, and only five percent of the people opted out.
I'm from Tennessee. It's not the most science-positive state in the United States of America. But only five percent of the people wanted out.
So people like to share, if you give them the opportunity and the choice.
And the reason that I got obsessed with this, besides the obvious family aspects, is that I spend a lot of time around mathematicians, and mathematicians are drawn to places where there's a lot of data because they can use it to tease signals out of noise.
And those correlations that they can tease out, they're not necessarily causal agents, but math, in this day and age, is like a giant set of power tools that we're leaving on the floor, not plugged in in health, while we use hand saws.
If we have a lot of shared genotypes, and a lot of shared outcomes, and a lot of shared lifestyle choices, and a lot of shared environmental information, we can start to tease out the correlations between subtle variations in people, the choices they make and the health that they create as a result of those choices, and there's open-source infrastructure to do all of this.
Sage Bionetworks is a nonprofit that's built a giant math system that's waiting for data, but there isn't any.
So that's what I do. I've actually started what we think is the world's first fully digital, fully self-contributed, unlimited in scope, global in participation, ethically approved clinical research study where you contribute the data.
So if you reach behind yourself and you grab the dust, if you reach into your body and grab your genome, if you reach into the medical system and somehow extract your medical record, you can actually go through an online informed consent process -- because the donation to the commons must be voluntary and it must be informed -- and you can actually upload your information and have it syndicated to the
mathematicians who will do this sort of big data research, and the goal is to get 100,000 in the first year and a million in the first five years so that we have a statistically significant cohort that you can use to take smaller sample sizes from traditional research and map it against, between the variations that make us unique and the kinds of health that we need to move forward as a society.
And I've spent a lot of time around other commons.
I've been around the early web. I've been around the early creative commons world, and there's four things that all of these share, which is, they're all really simple.
And so if you were to go to the website and enroll in this study, you're not going to see something complicated.
But it's not simplistic. These things are weak intentionally, right, because you can always add power and control to a system, but it's very difficult to remove those things if you put them in at the beginning, and so being simple doesn't mean being simplistic, and being weak doesn't mean weakness.
Those are strengths in the system.
And open doesn't mean that there's no money.
Closed systems, corporations, make a lot of money on the open web, and they're one of the reasons why the open web lives is that corporations have a vested interest in the openness of the system.
And so all of these things are part of the clinical study that we've created, so you can actually come in, all you have to be is 14 years old, willing to sign a contract that says I'm not going to be a jerk, basically, and you're in.
You can start analyzing the data.
You do have to solve a CAPTCHA as well. And if you'd like to build corporate structures on top of it, that's okay too. That's all in the consent, so if you don't like those terms, you don't come in.
that we're trying to bring to health data.
And the other thing about these systems is that it only takes a small number of really unreasonable people working together to create them. It didn't take that many people to make Wikipedia Wikipedia, or to keep it Wikipedia.
And we're not supposed to be unreasonable in health, and so I hate this word "patient."
I don't like being patient when systems are broken, and health care is broken.
I'm not talking about the politics of health care, I'm talking about the way we scientifically approach health care.
So I don't want to be patient. And the task I'm giving to you is to not be patient. So I'd like you to actually try, when you go home, to get your data.
You'll be shocked and offended and, I would bet, outraged, at how hard it is to get it.
But it's a challenge that I hope you'll take, and maybe you'll share it. Maybe you won't.
If you don't have anyone in your family who's sick, maybe you wouldn't be unreasonable. But if you do, or if you've been sick, then maybe you would.
And we're going to be able to do an experiment in the next several months that lets us know exactly how many unreasonable people are out there.
So this is the Athena Breast Health Network. It's a study of 150,000 women in California, and they're going to return all the data to the participants of the study in a computable form, with one-clickability to load it into the study that I've put together. So we'll know exactly how many people are willing to be unreasonable.
So what I'd end [with] is, the most beautiful thing I've learned since I quit my job almost a year ago to do this, is that it really doesn't take very many of us to achieve spectacular results.
You just have to be willing to be unreasonable, and the risk we're running is not the risk those 14 men who got yellow fever ran. Right?
It's to be naked, digitally, in public. So you know more about me and my health than I know about you. It's asymmetric now.
And being naked and alone can be terrifying.
But to be naked in a group, voluntarily, can be quite beautiful.
And so it doesn't take all of us.
It just takes all of some of us. Thank you. | {
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ããŠããããäœãåŠã¹ãã§ããã ãããã®ãããã㯠ãã®ãŸãŸã§ã¯ããŸã䜿ãç©ã«ãªããŸããã ããé«æ§èœãª ããããã®äœãæ¹ ãããã¯äººéãåç©ã® èªå·±ã¢ããªã³ã°ã®ä»æ¹ã«ç¹ãããããããŸãã
ãããŠå€§åãªããšã®1ã€ã¯ æ©æ¢°ã人éã®æã§äœãåºããšãã èãããé¢ã ãããããåäŸã®ããã« èªç±ã«é²å åŠç¿ããããšããããš ããã ããããã®ããæªæ¥ã«ç¹ãããŸã ããããšãããããŸãã | We've been told for 40 years already that they're coming soon.
Very soon they'll be doing everything for us.
They'll be cooking, cleaning, buying things, shopping, building. But they aren't here.
Meanwhile, we have illegal immigrants doing all the work, but we don't have any robots.
So what can we do about that? What can we say?
So I want to give a little bit of a different perspective of how we can perhaps look at these things in a little bit of a different way.
And this is an x-ray picture of a real beetle, and a Swiss watch, back from '88. You look at that -- what was true then is certainly true today.
We can still make the pieces. We can make the right pieces.
We can make the circuitry of the right computational power, but we can't actually put them together to make something that will actually work and be as adaptive as these systems.
So let's try to look at it from a different perspective.
Let's summon the best designer, the mother of all designers.
Let's see what evolution can do for us.
So we threw in -- we created a primordial soup with lots of pieces of robots -- with bars, with motors, with neurons.
Put them all together, and put all this under kind of natural selection, under mutation, and rewarded things for how well they can move forward.
A very simple task, and it's interesting to see what kind of things came out of that.
So if you look, you can see a lot of different machines come out of this. They all move around.
They all crawl in different ways, and you can see on the right, that we actually made a couple of these things, and they work in reality. These are not very fantastic robots, but they evolved to do exactly what we reward them for: for moving forward. So that was all done in simulation, but we can also do that on a real machine.
Here's a physical robot that we actually competing, or evolving on the machine.
It's like a rodeo show. They all get a ride on the machine, and they get rewarded for how fast or how far they can make the machine move forward.
And you can see these robots are not ready to take over the world yet, but they gradually learn how to move forward, and they do this autonomously.
So in these two examples, we had basically machines that learned how to walk in simulation, and also machines that learned how to walk in reality.
But I want to show you a different approach, and this is this robot over here, which has four legs.
It has eight motors, four on the knees and four on the hip.
It has also two tilt sensors that tell the machine which way it's tilting.
But this machine doesn't know what it looks like.
You look at it and you see it has four legs, the machine doesn't know if it's a snake, if it's a tree, it doesn't have any idea what it looks like, but it's going to try to find that out.
Initially, it does some random motion, and then it tries to figure out what it might look like.
And you're seeing a lot of things passing through its minds, a lot of self-models that try to explain the relationship between actuation and sensing. It then tries to do a second action that creates the most disagreement among predictions of these alternative models, like a scientist in a lab. Then it does that and tries to explain that, and prune out its self-models.
This is the last cycle, and you can see it's pretty much figured out what its self looks like. And once it has a self-model, it can use that to derive a pattern of locomotion.
So what you're seeing here are a couple of machines -- a pattern of locomotion.
We were hoping that it wass going to have a kind of evil, spidery walk, but instead it created this pretty lame way of moving forward.
But when you look at that, you have to remember that this machine did not do any physical trials on how to move forward, nor did it have a model of itself.
It kind of figured out what it looks like, and how to move forward, and then actually tried that out.
So, we'll move forward to a different idea.
So that was what happened when we had a couple of -- that's what happened when you had a couple of -- OK, OK, OK -- -- they don't like each other. So there's a different robot.
That's what happened when the robots actually are rewarded for doing something.
What happens if you don't reward them for anything, you just throw them in?
So we have these cubes, like the diagram showed here.
The cube can swivel, or flip on its side, and we just throw 1,000 of these cubes into a soup -- this is in simulation --and don't reward them for anything, we just let them flip. We pump energy into this and see what happens in a couple of mutations.
So, initially nothing happens, they're just flipping around there.
But after a very short while, you can see these blue things on the right there begin to take over.
They begin to self-replicate. So in absence of any reward, the intrinsic reward is self-replication.
And we've actually built a couple of these, and this is part of a larger robot made out of these cubes.
It's an accelerated view, where you can see the robot actually carrying out some of its replication process.
So you're feeding it with more material -- cubes in this case -- and more energy, and it can make another robot.
So of course, this is a very crude machine, but we're working on a micro-scale version of these, and hopefully the cubes will be like a powder that you pour in.
OK, so what can we learn? These robots are of course not very useful in themselves, but they might teach us something about how we can build better robots, and perhaps how humans, animals, create self-models and learn.
And one of the things that I think is important is that we have to get away from this idea of designing the machines manually, but actually let them evolve and learn, like children, and perhaps that's the way we'll get there. Thank you. | {
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ãµããã®ç·ã¯åããå€ãããšãç¡èšã§éãåºãã | The Bolted Door
Edith Wharton
Hubert Granice, pacing the length of his pleasant lamp-lit library, paused to compare his watch with the clock on the chimney-piece.
Three minutes to eight.
In exactly three minutes Mr. Peter Ascham, of the eminent legal firm of Ascham and Pettilow, would have his punctual hand on the door-bell of the flat.
It was a comfort to reflect that Ascham was so punctual
-- the suspense was beginning to make his host nervous.
And the sound of the door-bell would be the beginning of the end
-- after that there'd be no going back, by God -- no going back!
Granice resumed his pacing.
Each time he reached the end of the room opposite the door he caught his reflection in the Florentine mirror above the fine old walnut credence he had picked up at Dijon
-- saw himself spare, quick-moving, carefully brushed and dressed, but furrowed, gray about the temples,
with a stoop which he corrected by a spasmodic straightening of the shoulders whenever a glass confronted him:
a tired middle-aged man,
baffled, beaten, worn out.
As he summed himself up thus for the third or fourth time the door opened
and he turned with a thrill of relief to greet his guest.
But it was only the man-servant who entered, advancing silently over the mossy surface of the old Turkey rug.
"Mr. Ascham telephones, sir,
to say he's unexpectedly detained and can't be here till eight-thirty."
Granice made a curt gesture of annoyance.
It was becoming harder and harder for him to control these reflexes.
He turned on his heel, tossing to the servant over his shoulder:
"Very good.
Put off dinner."
Down his spine he felt the man's injured stare.
Mr. Granice had always been so mild-spoken to his people
-- no doubt the odd change in his manner had already been noticed and discussed below stairs.
And very likely they suspected the cause.
He stood drumming on the writing-table till he heard the servant go out;
then he threw himself into a chair, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his locked hands.
Another half hour alone with it!
He wondered irritably what could have detained his guest.
Some professional matter, no doubt
-- the punctilious lawyer would have allowed nothing less to interfere with a dinner engagement,
more especially since Granice, in his note, had said:
But what professional matter could have come up at that unprofessional hour?
Perhaps some other soul in misery had called on the lawyer;
and, after all, Granice's note had given no hint of his own need!
No doubt Ascham thought he merely wanted to make another change in his will.
Since he had come into his little property, ten years earlier, Granice had been perpetually tinkering with his will.
Suddenly another thought pulled him up,
sending a flush to his sallow temples.
He remembered a word he had tossed to the lawyer some six weeks earlier, at the Century Club.
"Yes
-- my play's as good as taken.
I shall be calling on you soon to go over the contract.
Those theatrical chaps are so slippery
-- I won't trust anybody but you to tie the knot for me!"
That, of course, was what Ascham would think he was wanted for.
Granice, at the idea, broke into an audible laugh
-- a queer stage-laugh, like the cackle of a baffled villain in a melodrama.
The absurdity, the unnaturalness of the sound abashed him, and he compressed his lips angrily.
Would he take to soliloquy next?
He lowered his arms and pulled open the upper drawer of the writing-table.
In the right-hand corner lay a thick manuscript, bound in paper folders, and tied with a string beneath which a letter had been slipped.
Next to the manuscript was a small revolver.
Granice stared a moment at these oddly associated objects;
then he took the letter from under the string and slowly began to open it.
He had known he should do so from the moment his hand touched the drawer.
Whenever his eye fell on that letter some relentless force compelled him to re-read it.
It was dated about four weeks back, under the letter-head of "The Diversity Theatre."
"My Dear Mr. Granice:
"I have given the matter my best consideration for the last month, and it's no use -- the play won't do.
I have talked it over with Miss Melrose
-- and you know there isn't a gamer artist on our stage
-- and I regret to tell you she feels just as I do about it.
It isn't the poetry that scares her -- or me either.
We both want to do all we can to help along the poetic drama
-- we believe the public's ready for it,
and we're willing to take a big financial risk in order to be the first to give them what they want.
But we don't believe they could be made to want this.
The fact is, there isn't enough drama in your play to the allowance of poetry
-- the thing drags all through.
You've got a big idea, but it's not out of swaddling clothes.
"If this was your first play I'd say: try again.
But it has been just the same with all the others you've shown m.e
And you remember the result of 'The Lee Shore,'
where you carried all the expenses of production yourself, and we couldn't fill the theatre for a week.
Yet 'The Lee Shore' was a modern problem play
-- much easier to swing than blank verse.
It isn't as if you hadn't tried all kinds --"
Granice folded the letter and put it carefully back into the envelope.
Why on earth was he re-reading it,
when he knew every phrase in it by heart,
when for a month past he had seen it, night after night, stand out in letters of flame against the darkness of his sleepless lids?
"It has been just the same with all the other you've shown me."
That was the way they dismissed ten years of passionate unremitting work!
"You remember the result of 'The Lee Shore'."
Good God -- as if he were likely to forget it!
He re-lived it all now in a drowning flash:
the persistent rejection of the play, his sudden resolve to put it on at his own cost, to spend ten thousand dollars of his inheritance on testing his chance of success
-- the fever of preparation, the dry-mouthed agony of the "first night,"
the flat fall,
the stupid press,
his secret rush to Europe to escape the condolence of his friends!
"It isn't as if you hadn't tried all kinds."
No
-- he had tried all kinds:
comedy, tragedy, prose and verse, the light curtain-raiser, the short sharp drama, the bourgeoisrealistic and the lyrical-romantic
-- finally deciding that he would no longer "prostitute his talent" to win popularity, but would impose on the public his own theory of art in the form of five acts of blank verse.
Ten years of it
-- ten years of dogged work and unrelieved failure.
The ten years from forty to fifty
-- the best ten years of his life!
And if one counted the years before, the silent years of dreams, assimilation, preparation -- then call it half a man's life-time:
half a man's life-time thrown away!
And what was he to do with the remaining half?
Well, he had settled that, thank God!
He turned and glanced anxiously at the clock.
Ten minutes past eight
-- only ten minutes had been consumed in that stormy rush through his whole past!
And he must wait another twenty minutes for Ascham.
It was one of the worst symptoms of his case that, in proportion as he had grown to shrink from human company, he dreaded more and more to be alone. . . .
But why the devil was he waiting for Ascham?
Why didn't he cut the knot himself?
Since he was so unutterably sick of the whole business, why did he have to call in an outsider to rid him of this nightmare of living?
He opened the drawer again and laid his hand on the revolver.
It was a small slim ivory toy
-- just the instrument for a tired sufferer to give himself a "hypodermic" with.
Granice raised it slowly in one hand,
while with the other he felt under the thin hair at the back of his head, between the ear and the nape.
He knew just where to place the muzzle:
he had once got a young surgeon to show him.
And as he found the spot, and lifted the revolver to it,
the inevitable phenomenon occurred.
The hand that held the weapon began to shake, the tremor communicated itself to his arm, his heart gave a wild leap which sent up a wave of deadly nausea to his throat,
he smelt the powder, he sickened at the crash of the bullet through his skull, and a sweat of fear broke out over his forehead and ran down his quivering face. . .
wHe laid away the revolver with an oath and, pulling out a cologne-scented handkerchief, passed it tremulously over his brow and temples.
It was no use
-- he knew he could never do it in that way.
His attempts at self-destruction were as futile as his snatches at fame!
He couldn't make himself a real life, and he couldn't get rid of the life he had.
And that was why he had sent for Ascham to help him. . .
The lawyer, over the Camembert and Burgundy, began to excuse himself for his delay.
"I didn't like to say anything while your man was about--
but the fact is, I was sent for on a rather unusual matter --"
"Oh, it's all right,"
said Granice cheerfully.
He was beginning to feel the usual reaction that food and company produced.
It was not any recovered pleasure in life that he felt, but only a deeper withdrawal into himself.
It was easier to go on automatically with the social gestures than to uncover to any human eye the abyss within him.
"My dear fellow, it's sacrilege to keep a dinner waiting --
especially the production of an artist like yours."
Mr. Ascham sipped his Burgundy luxuriously.
"But the fact is, Mrs. Ashgrove sent for me."
Granice raised his head with a quick movement of surprise.
For a moment he was shaken out of his self-absorption.
"Mrs. Ashgrove?"
Ascham smiled.
"I thought you'd be interested;
I know your passion for causes celebres.
Of course it's out of our line entirely
-- we never touch criminal cases.
But she wanted to consult me as a friend.
Ashgrove was a distant connection of my wife's.
And, by Jove, it is a queer case!"
The servant re-entered, and Ascham snapped his lips shut.
Would the gentlemen have their coffee in the dining-room?
"No
-- serve it in the library,"
said Granice, rising.
He led the way back to the curtained confidential room.
He was really curious to hear what Ascham had to tell him.
While the coffee and cigars were being served he fidgeted about the library, glancing at his letters
-- the usual meaningless notes and bills
-- and picking up the evening paper.
As he unfolded it a headline caught his eye.
"ROSE MELROSE WANTS TO PLAY POETRY.
"THINKS SHE HAS FOUND HER POET."
He read on with a thumping heart
-- found the name of a young author he had barely heard of, saw the title of a play, a "poetic drama," dance before his eyes,
and dropped the paper,
sick, disgusted.
It was true,
then
-- she was "game"
-- it was not the manner but the matter she mistrusted!
Granice turned to the servant, who seemed to be purposely lingering.
"I shan't need you this evening, Flint.
I'll lock up myself."
He fancied the man's acquiescence implied surprise.
What was going on, Flint seemed to wonder, that Mr. Granice should want him out of the way?
Probably he would find a pretext for coming back to see.
Granice suddenly felt himself enveloped in a network of espionage.
As the door closed he threw himself into an armchair and leaned forward to take a light from Ascham's cigar.
"Tell me about Mrs. Ashgrove,"
he said, seeming to himself to speak stiffly, as if his lips were cracked.
"Mrs. Ashgrove?
Well, there's not much to tell."
"And you couldn't if there were?"
Granice smiled.
"Probably not.
As a matter of fact, she wanted my advice about her choice of counsel.
There was nothing especially confidential in our talk."
"And what's your impression, now you've seen her?"
"My impression is,
very distinctly, that nothing will ever be known."
"Ah -- ?"
Granice murmured, puffing at his cigar.
"I'm more and more convinced
that whoever poisoned Ashgrove knew his business, and will consequently never be found out.
That's a capital cigar you've given me."
"You like it?
I get them over from Cuba."
Granice examined his own reflectively.
"Then you believe in the theory that the clever criminals never are caught?"
"Of course I do.
Look about you
-- look back for the last dozen years
-- none of the big murder problems are ever solved."
The lawyer ruminated behind his blue cloud.
"Why, take the instance in your own family:
I'd forgotten I had an illustration at hand!
Take old Joseph Lenman's murder
-- do you suppose that will ever be explained?"
As the words dropped from Ascham's lips his host looked slowly about the library,
and every object in it stared back at him with a stale unescapable familiarity.
How sick he was of looking at that room!
It was as dull as the face of a wife one has wearied of.
He cleared his throat slowly;
then he turned his head to the lawyer and said:
"I could explain the Lenman murder myself."
Ascham's eye kindled:
he shared Granice's interest in criminal cases.
"By Jove!
You've had a theory all this time?
It's odd you never mentioned it.
Go ahead and tell me.
There are certain features in the Lenman case not unlike this Ashgrove affair,
and your idea may be a help."
Granice paused and his eye reverted instinctively to the table drawer in which the revolver and the manuscript lay side by side.
What if he were to try another appeal to Rose Melrose?
Then he looked at the notes and bills on the table, and the horror of taking up again the lifeless routine of life
-- of performing the same automatic gestures another day
-- displaced his fleeting vision.
"I haven't a theory.
I know who murdered Joseph Lenman."
Ascham settled himself comfortably in his chair, prepared for enjoyment.
"You know?
Well, who did?"
he laughed.
"I did,"
said Granice, rising.
He stood before Ascham, and the lawyer lay back staring up at him.
Then he broke into another laugh.
"Why, this is glorious!
You murdered him, did you?
To inherit his money, I suppose?
Better and better!
Go on, my boy!
Unbosom yourself!
Tell me all about it!
Confession is good for the soul."
Granice waited till the lawyer had shaken the last peal of laughter from his throat;
then he repeated doggedly:
"I murdered him."
The two men looked at each other for a long moment, and this time Ascham did not laugh.
"Granice!"
"I murdered him
-- to get his money, as you say."
There was another pause,
and Granice, with a vague underlying sense of amusement, saw his guest's look change from pleasantry to apprehension.
"What's the joke, my dear fellow?
I fail to see."
"It's not a joke.
It's the truth.
I murdered him."
He had spoken painfully at first, as if there were a knot in his throat;
but each time he repeated the words he found they were easier to say.
Ascham laid down his extinct cigar.
"What's the matter?
Aren't you well?
What on earth are you driving at?"
"I'm perfectly well.
But I murdered my cousin, Joseph Lenman, and I want it known that I murdered him."
"You want it known?"
"Yes.
That's why I sent for you.
I'm sick of living,
and when I try to kill myself I funk it."
He spoke quite naturally now, as if the knot in his throat had been untied.
"Good Lord
-- good Lord,"
the lawyer gasped.
"But I suppose,"
I'm sure of the chair if I own up?"
Ascham drew a long breath;
then he said slowly:
"Sit down, Granice.
Let's talk."
Granice told his story simply, connectedly.
He began by a quick survey of his early years
-- the years of drudgery and privation.
His father, a charming man who could never say "no," had so signally failed to say it on certain essential occasions that when he died he left an illegitimate family and a mortgaged estate.
His lawful kin found themselves hanging over a gulf of debt, and young Granice, to support his mother and sister, had to leave Harvard and bury himself at eighteen in a broker's office.
He loathed his work, and he was always poor, always worried and in ill-health.
A few years later his mother died, but his sister, an ineffectual neurasthenic, remained on his hands.
His own health gave out, and he had to go away for six months, and work harder than ever when he came back.
He had no knack for business,
no head for figures, no dimmest insight into the mysteries of commerce.
He wanted to travel and write
-- those were his inmost longings.
And as the years dragged on, and he neared middle-age without making any more money, or acquiring any firmer health, a sick despair possessed him.
He tried writing, but he always came home from the office so tired that his brain could not work.
For half the year he did not reach his dim up-town flat till after dark,
and could only "brush up" for dinner, and afterward lie on the lounge with his pipe, while his sister droned through the evening paper.
Sometimes he spent an evening at the theatre;
or he dined out, or, more rarely,
strayed off with an acquaintance or two in quest of what is known as "pleasure."
And in summer, when he and Kate went to the sea-side for a month,
he dozed through the days in utter weariness.
Once he fell in love with a charming girl
-- but what had he to offer her, in God's name?
She seemed to like him, and in common decency he had to drop out of the running.
Apparently no one replaced him, for she never married, but grew stoutish, grayish, philanthropic
-- yet how sweet she had been when he had first kissed her!
One more wasted life, he reflected. . .
But the stage had always been his master-passion.
He would have sold his soul for the time and freedom to write plays!
It was in him
-- he could not remember when it had not been his deepest-seated instinct.
As the years passed it became a morbid, a relentless obsession
-- yet with every year the material conditions were more and more against it.
He felt himself growing middle-aged, and he watched the reflection of the process in his sister's wasted face.
At eighteen she had been pretty, and as full of enthusiasm as he.
Now she was sour, trivial, insignificant
-- she had missed her chance of life.
And she had no resources, poor creature, was fashioned simply for the primitive functions she had been denied the chance to fulfil!
It exasperated him to think of it -- and to reflect that even now a little travel, a little health, a little money, might transform her, make her young and desirable. . .
The chief fruit of his experience was that there is no such fixed state as age or youth
-there is only health as against sickness, wealth as against poverty;
and age or youth as the outcome of the lot one draws.
At this point in his narrative Granice stood up, and went to lean against the mantel-piece, looking down at Ascham, who had not moved from his seat, or changed his attitude of rigid fascinated attention.
"Then came the summer when we went to Wrenfield to be near old Lenman -- my mother's cousin, as you know.
Some of the family always mounted guard over him
-- generally a niece or so.
But that year they were all scattered,
and one of the nieces offered to lend us her cottage if we'd relieve her of duty for two months.
It was a nuisance for me, of course, for Wrenfield is two hours from town;
but my mother, who was a slave to family observances, had always been good to the old man,
so it was natural we should be called on
-- and there was the saving of rent and the good air for Kate.
So we went.
"You never knew Joseph Lenman?
Well, picture to yourself an amoeba or some primitive organism of that sort, under a Titan's microscope.
He was large, undifferentiated, inert
-- since I could remember him he had done nothing but take his temperature and read the Churchman.
Oh, and cultivate melons
-- that was his hobby.
Not vulgar, out-of-door melons
-- his were grown under glass.
He had miles of it at Wrenfield
-- his big kitchen-garden was surrounded by blinking battalions of green-houses.
And in nearly all of them melons were grown
-- early melons and late, French, English, domestic
-- dwarf melons and monsters:
every shape, colour and variety.
They were petted and nursed like children
-- a staff of trained attendants waited on them.
I'm not sure they didn't have a doctor to take their temperature
-- at any rate the place was full of thermometers.
And they didn't sprawl on the ground like ordinary melons;
they were trained against the glass like nectarines,
and each melon hung in a net which sustained its weight and left it free on all sides to the sun and air. . .
"It used to strike me sometimes that old Lenman was just like one of his own melons
-- the pale-fleshed English kind.
His life, apathetic and motionless, hung in a net of gold, in an equable warm ventilated atmosphere, high above sordid earthly worries.
The cardinal rule of his existence was not to let himself be 'worried.' . . .
I remember his advising me to try it myself,
one day when I spoke to him about Kate's bad health, and her need of a change.
'I never let myself worry,'
he said complacently.
'It's the worst thing for the liver
-- and you look to me as if you had a liver.
Take my advice and be cheerful.
You'll make yourself happier and others too.'
And all he had to do was to write a cheque, and send the poor girl off for a holiday!
"The hardest part of it was that the money half-belonged to us already.
The old skin-flint only had it for life, in trust for us and the others.
But his life was a good deal sounder than mine or Kate's
-- and one could picture him taking extra care of it for the joke of keeping us waiting.
I always felt that the sight of our hungry eyes was a tonic to him.
"Well, I tried to see if I couldn't reach him through his vanity.
I flattered him, feigned a passionate interest in his melons.
And he was taken in, and used to discourse on them by the hour.
On fine days he was driven to the green-houses in his pony-chair, and waddled through them, prodding and leering at the fruit, like a fat Turk in his seraglio.
When he bragged to me of the expense of growing them I was reminded of a hideous old Lothario bragging of what his pleasures cost.
And the resemblance was completed by the fact that he couldn't eat as much as a mouthful of his melons -- had lived for years on buttermilk and toast.
'But, after all, it's my only hobby
-- why shouldn't I indulge it?'
he said sentimentally.
As if I'd ever been able to indulge any of mine!
On the keep of those melons Kate and I could have lived like gods. . .
"One day toward the end of the summer,
when Kate was too unwell to drag herself up to the big house, she asked me to go and spend the afternoon with cousin Joseph.
It was a lovely soft September afternoon --
a day to lie under a Roman stone-pine, with one's eyes on the sky, and let the cosmic harmonies rush through one.
Perhaps the vision was suggested by the fact that,
as I entered cousin Joseph's hideous black walnut library, I passed one of the under-gardeners, a handsome full-throated Italian, who dashed out in such a hurry that he nearly knocked me down.
I remember thinking it queer that the fellow, whom I had often seen about the melon-houses, did not bow to me, or even seem to see me.
"Cousin Joseph sat in his usual seat, behind the darkened windows,
his fat hands folded on his protuberant waistcoat, the last number of the Churchman at his elbow,
and near it, on a huge dish, a fat melon
-- the fattest melon I'd ever seen.
As I looked at it I pictured the ecstasy of contemplation from which I must have roused him,
and congratulated myself on finding him in such a mood, since I had made up my mind to ask him a favour.
Then I noticed that his face,
instead of looking as calm as an eggshell, was distorted and whimpering
-- and without stopping to greet me he pointed passionately to the melon.
"'Look at it, look at it
-- did you ever see such a beauty?
Such firmness
-- roundness
-- such delicious smoothness to the touch?'
It was as if he had said 'she' instead of 'it,' and when he put out his senile hand and touched the melon I positively had to look the other way.
"Then he told me what had happened.
The Italian under-gardener, who had been specially recommended for the melon-houses
-- though it was against my cousin's principles to employ a Papist -- had been assigned to the care of the monster:
for it had revealed itself, early in its existence, as destined to become a monster, to surpass its plumpest, pulpiest sisters, carry off prizes at agricultural shows, and be photographed and celebrated in every gardening paper in the land.
The Italian had done well
-- seemed to have a sense of responsibility.
And that very morning he had been ordered to pick the melon,
which was to be shown next day at the county fair, and to bring it in for Mr. Lenman to gaze on its blonde virginity.
But in picking it, what had the damned scoundrelly Jesuit done but drop it
-- drop it crash on the sharp spout of a watering-pot, so that it received a deep gash in its firm pale rotundity, and was henceforth but a bruised, ruined, fallen melon?
"The old man's rage was fearful in its impotence
-- he shook, spluttered and strangled with it.
He had just had the Italian up and had sacked him on the spot,
without wages or character
-- had threatened to have him arrested if he was ever caught prowling about Wrenfield.
'By God, and I'll do it
-- I'll write to Washington
-- I'll have the pauper scoundrel deported!
I'll show him what money can do!'
As likely as not there was some murderous Black-hand business under it
-- it would be found that the fellow was a member of a 'gang.'
Those Italians would murder you for a quarter.
He meant to have the police look into it. . .
And then he grew frightened at his own excitement.
'But I must calm myself,'
he said.
He took his temperature, rang for his drops, and turned to the Churchman.
He had been reading an article on Nestorianism when the melon was brought in.
He asked me to go on with it, and I read to him for an hour,
in the dim close room, with a fat fly buzzing stealthily about the fallen melon.
"All the while one phrase of the old man's buzzed in my brain like the fly about the melon.
'I'll show him what money can do!'
Good heaven!
If I could but show the old man!
If I could make him see his power of giving happiness as a new outlet for his monstrous egotism!
I tried to tell him something about my situation and Kate's
-- spoke of my ill-health, my unsuccessful drudgery, my longing to write, to make myself a name
-- I stammered out an entreaty for a loan.
'I can guarantee to repay you, sir
-I've a half-written play as security. . .'
"I shall never forget his glassy stare.
His face had grown as smooth as an egg-shell again
-- his eyes peered over his fat cheeks like sentinels over a slippery rampart.
"'A half-written play --
a play of yours as security?'
He looked at me almost fearfully, as if detecting the first symptoms of insanity.
'Do you understand anything of business?'
he enquired mildly.
I laughed and answered:
"He leaned back with closed lids.
'All this excitement has been too much for me,'
'If you'll excuse me, I'll prepare for my nap.'
And I stumbled out of the room, blindly, like the Italian."
Granice moved away from the mantel-piece, and walked across to the tray set out with decanters and soda-water.
He poured himself a tall glass of soda-water, emptied it, and glanced at Ascham's dead cigar.
"Better light another,"
The lawyer shook his head, and Granice went on with his tale.
He told of his mounting obsession
-- how the murderous impulse had waked in him on the instant of his cousin's refusal,
and he had muttered to himself:
"By God, if you won't, I'll make you."
He spoke more tranquilly as the narrative proceeded,
as though his rage had died down once the resolve to act on it was taken.
He applied his whole mind to the question of how the old man was to be "disposed of."
Suddenly he remembered the outcry:
"Those Italians will murder you for a quarter!"
But no definite project presented itself:
he simply waited for an inspiration.
Granice and his sister moved to town a day or two after the incident of the melon.
But the cousins, who had returned, kept them informed of the old man's condition.
One day, about three weeks later, Granice, on getting home, found Kate excited over a report from Wrenfield.
The Italian had been there again
-- had somehow slipped into the house, made his way up to the library, and "used threatening language."
The house-keeper found cousin Joseph gasping, the whites of his eyes showing "something awful."
The doctor was sent for, and the attack warded off;
and the police had ordered the Italian from the neighbourhood.
But cousin Joseph, thereafter, languished, had "nerves," and lost his taste for toast and butter-milk.
The doctor called in a colleague, and the consultation amused and excited the old man-he became once more an important figure.
The medical men reassured the family
-- too completely!
-- and to the patient they recommended a more varied diet:
advised him to take whatever "tempted him."
And so one day, tremulously, prayerfully, he decided on a tiny bit of melon.
It was brought up with ceremony, and consumed in the presence of the house-keeper and a hovering cousin;
and twenty minutes later he was dead. . .
"But you remember the circumstances,"
Granice went on;
"how suspicion turned at once on the Italian?
In spite of the hint the police had given him he had been seen hanging about the house since 'the scene.'
It was said that he had tender relations with the kitchen-maid, and the rest seemed easy to explain.
But when they looked round to ask him for the explanation he was gone
-- gone clean out of sight.
He had been 'warned' to leave Wrenfield,
and he had taken the warning so to heart that no one ever laid eyes on him again."
Granice paused.
He had dropped into a chair opposite the lawyer's, and he sat for a moment, his head thrown back, looking about the familiar room.
Everything in it had grown grimacing and alien,
and each strange insistent object seemed craning forward from its place to hear him.
"It was I who put the stuff in the melon,"
he said.
"And I don't want you to think I'm sorry for it.
This isn't 'remorse,' understand.
I'm glad the old skin-flint is dead
-- I'm glad the others have their money.
But mine's no use to me any more.
My sister married miserably, and died.
And I've never had what I wanted."
Ascham continued to stare;
then he said:
"What on earth was your object, then?"
"Why, to get what I wanted
-- what I fancied was in reach!
I wanted change, rest, life, for both of us
-- wanted, above all, for myself, the chance to write!
I travelled,
got back my health,
and came home to tie myself up to my work.
And I've slaved at it steadily for ten years without reward
-- without the most distant hope of success!
Nobody will look at my stuff.
And now I'm fifty,
and I'm beaten,
and I know it."
His chin dropped forward on his breast.
"I want to chuck the whole business,"
he ended.
It was after midnight when Ascham left.
His hand on Granice's shoulder, as he turned to go
--"District Attorney be hanged;
see a doctor,
see a doctor!"
he had cried;
and so, with an exaggerated laugh, had pulled on his coat and departed.
Granice turned back into the library.
It had never occurred to him that Ascham would not believe his story.
For three hours he had explained,
elucidated, patiently and painfully gone over every detail
-- but without once breaking down the iron incredulity of the lawyer's eye.
At first Ascham had feigned to be convinced
-- but that, as Granice now perceived, was simply to get him to expose himself, to entrap him into contradictions.
And when the attempt failed, when Granice triumphantly met and refuted each disconcerting question, the lawyer dropped the mask suddenly, and said with a goodhumoured laugh:
"By Jove, Granice you'll write a successful play yet.
The way you've worked this all out is a marvel."
Granice swung about furiously
-- that last sneer about the play inflamed him.
Was all the world in a conspiracy to deride his failure?
"I did it,
I did it,"
he muttered sullenly, his rage spending itself against the impenetrable surface of the other's mockery;
and Ascham answered with a smile:
"Ever read any of those books on hallucination?
I've got a fairly good medico-legal library.
I could send you one or two if you like. . ."
Left alone, Granice cowered down in the chair before his writingtable.
He understood that Ascham thought him off his head.
"Good God
-- what if they all think me crazy?"
The horror of it broke out over him in a cold sweat
-- he sat there and shook, his eyes hidden in his icy hands.
But gradually, as he began to rehearse his story for the thousandth time, he saw again how incontrovertible it was, and felt sure that any criminal lawyer would believe him.
"That's the trouble
-- Ascham's not a criminal lawyer.
And then he's a friend.
What a fool I was to talk to a friend!
Even if he did believe me, he'd never let me see it
-- his instinct would be to cover the whole thing up. . .
But in that case
-- if he did believe me
-- he might think it a kindness to get me shut up in an asylum. . ."
Granice began to tremble again.
"Good heaven!
If he should bring in an expert
-- one of those damned alienists!
Ascham and Pettilow can do anything
-- their word always goes.
If Ascham drops a hint that I'd better be shut up, I'll be in a strait-jacket by to-morrow!
And he'd do it from the kindest motives
-- be quite right to do it if he thinks I'm a murderer!"
The vision froze him to his chair.
He pressed his fists to his bursting temples and tried to think.
For the first time he hoped that Ascham had not believed his story.
"But he did
-- he did!
I can see it now
-- I noticed what a queer eye he cocked at me.
Good God, what shall I do
-- what shall I do?"
He started up and looked at the clock.
Half-past one.
What if Ascham should think the case urgent, rout out an alienist, and come back with him?
Granice jumped to his feet,
and his sudden gesture brushed the morning paper from the table.
Mechanically he stooped to pick it up, and the movement started a new train of association.
He sat down again, and reached for the telephone book in the rack by his chair.
"Give me three-o-ten
. . . yes."
The new idea in his mind had revived his flagging energy.
He would act
-- act at once.
It was only by thus planning ahead, committing himself to some unavoidable line of conduct, that he could pull himself through the meaningless days.
Each time he reached a fresh decision it was like coming out of a foggy weltering sea into a calm harbour with lights.
One of the queerest phases of his long agony was the intense relief produced by these momentary lulls.
"That the office of the Investigator?
Give me Mr. Denver, please
. . . Hallo, Denver
. . . Yes, Hubert Granice.
. . . Just caught you?
Going straight home?
Can I come and see you
. . . yes, now
. . . have a talk?
It's rather urgent
. . . yes,
might give you some first-rate 'copy.'
. . . All right!"
He hung up the receiver with a laugh.
It had been a happy thought to call up the editor of the Investigator
-- Robert Denver was the very man he needed. . .
Granice put out the lights in the library
-- it was odd how the automatic gestures persisted!
-- went into the hall, put on his hat and overcoat, and let himself out of the flat.
In the hall, a sleepy elevator boy blinked at him and then dropped his head on his folded arms.
Granice passed out into the street.
At the corner of Fifth Avenue he hailed a crawling cab, and called out an up-town address.
The long thoroughfare stretched before him, dim and deserted, like an ancient avenue of tombs.
The two men grasped hands, and Denver, feeling for his latch-key, ushered Granice into the brightly-lit hall.
"Disturb me?
Not a bit.
You might have, at ten to-morrow morning. . .
but this is my liveliest hour
. . . you know my habits of old."
Granice had known Robert Denver for fifteen years
-- watched his rise through all the stages of journalism to the Olympian pinnacle of the Investigator's editorial office.
In the thickset man with grizzling hair there were few traces left of the hungry-eyed young reporter who, on his way home in the small hours, used to "bob in" on Granice, while the latter sat grinding at his plays.
Denver had to pass Granice's flat on the way to his own, and it became a habit, if he saw a light in the window, and Granice's shadow against the blind, to go in, smoke a pipe, and discuss the universe.
"Well
-- this is like old times
-- a good old habit reversed."
The editor smote his visitor genially on the shoulder.
"Reminds me of the nights when I used to rout you out. . .
How's the play, by the way?
There is a play, I suppose?
It's as safe to ask you that as to say to some men:
Denver laughed good-naturedly, and Granice thought how thick and heavy he had grown.
It was evident, even to Granice's tortured nerves, that the words had not been uttered in malice
-- and the fact gave him a new measure of his insignificance.
Denver did not even know that he had been a failure!
The fact hurt more than Ascham's irony.
"Come in -- come in."
The editor led the way into a small cheerful room, where there were cigars and decanters.
He pushed an armchair toward his visitor, and dropped into another with a comfortable groan.
"Now, then
-- help yourself.
And let's hear all about it."
He beamed at Granice over his pipe-bowl, and the latter, lighting his cigar, said to himself:
"Success makes men comfortable, but it makes them stupid."
Then he turned, and began:
"Denver, I want to tell you --"
The clock ticked rhythmically on the mantel-piece.
The little room was gradually filled with drifting blue layers of smoke, and through them the editor's face came and went like the moon through a moving sky.
Once the hour struck
-- then the rhythmical ticking began again.
The atmosphere grew denser and heavier, and beads of perspiration began to roll from Granice's forehead.
"Do you mind if I open the window?"
"No.
It is stuffy in here.
Wait -- I'll do it myself."
Denver pushed down the upper sash, and returned to his chair.
"Well -- go on,"
he said, filling another pipe.
His composure exasperated Granice.
"There's no use in my going on if you don't believe me."
The editor remained unmoved.
"Who says I don't believe you?
And how can I tell till you've finished?"
Granice went on, ashamed of his outburst.
"It was simple enough, as you'll see.
From the day the old man said to me,
I dropped everything and just worked at my scheme.
It struck me at once that I must find a way of getting to Wrenfield and back in a night
-- and that led to the idea of a motor.
A motor
-- that never occurred to you?
You wonder where I got the money, I suppose.
Well, I had a thousand or so put by,
and I nosed around till I found what I wanted
-- a second-hand racer.
I knew how to drive a car, and I tried the thing and found it was all right.
Times were bad, and I bought it for my price,
and stored it away.
Where?
Why, in one of those no-questions-asked garages where they keep motors that are not for family use.
I had a lively cousin who had put me up to that dodge, and I looked about till I found a queer hole where they took in my car like a baby in a foundling asylum. . .
Then I practiced running to Wrenfield and back in a night.
I knew the way pretty well,
for I'd done it often with the same lively cousin
-- and in the small hours, too.
The distance is over ninety miles, and on the third trial I did it under two hours.
But my arms were so lame that I could hardly get dressed the next morning. . .
"Well, then came the report about the Italian's threats, and I saw I must act at once. . .
I meant to break into the old man's room, shoot him, and get away again.
It was a big risk, but I thought I could manage it.
Then we heard that he was ill-- that there'd been a consultation.
Perhaps the fates were going to do it for me!
Good Lord, if that could only be! . . ."
Granice stopped and wiped his forehead:
the open window did not seem to have cooled the room.
"Then came word that he was better;
and the day after, when I came up from my office, I found Kate laughing over the news that he was to try a bit of melon.
The house-keeper had just telephoned her
-- all Wrenfield was in a flutter.
The doctor himself had picked out the melon,
one of the little French ones that are hardly bigger than a large tomato
-- and the patient was to eat it at his breakfast the next morning.
"In a flash I saw my chance.
It was a bare chance, no more.
But I knew the ways of the house
-- I was sure the melon would be brought in over night
and put in the pantry ice-box.
If there were only one melon in the ice-box I could be fairly sure it was the one I wanted.
Melons didn't lie around loose in that house
-every one was known, numbered, catalogued.
The old man was beset by the dread that the servants would eat them, and he took a hundred mean precautions to prevent it.
Yes, I felt pretty sure of my melon
. . . and poisoning was much safer than shooting.
It would have been the devil and all to get into the old man's bedroom without his rousing the house;
but I ought to be able to break into the pantry without much trouble.
"It was a cloudy night, too
-- everything served me.
I dined quietly, and sat down at my desk.
Kate had one of her usual headaches, and went to bed early.
As soon as she was gone I slipped out.
I had got together a sort of disguise
-- red beard and queer-looking ulster.
I shoved them into a bag, and went round to the garage.
There was no one there but a half-drunken machinist whom I'd never seen before.
That served me, too.
They were always changing machinists, and this new fellow didn't even bother to ask if the car belonged to me.
It was a very easygoing place. . .
"Well, I jumped in, ran up Broadway, and let the car go as soon as I was out of Harlem.
Dark as it was, I could trust myself to strike a sharp pace.
In the shadow of a wood I stopped a second and got into the beard and ulster.
Then away again
-- it was just eleven-thirty when I got to Wrenfield.
"I left the car in a dark lane behind the Lenman place, and slipped through the kitchen-garden.
The melon-houses winked at me through the dark
-- I remember thinking that they knew what I wanted to know. . . .
By the stable a dog came out growling
-- but he nosed me out, jumped on me, and went back. . .
The house was as dark as the grave.
I knew everybody went to bed by ten.
But there might be a prowling servant
-- the kitchen-maid might have come down to let in her Italian.
I had to risk that, of course.
I crept around by the back door and hid in the shrubbery.
Then I listened.
It was all as silent as death.
I crossed over to the house, pried open the pantry window and climbed in.
I had a little electric lamp in my pocket, and shielding it with my cap I groped my way to the ice-box,
opened it
-- and there was the little French melon
. . . only one.
"I stopped to listen
-- I was quite cool.
Then I pulled out my bottle of stuff and my syringe, and gave each section of the melon a hypodermic.
It was all done inside of three minutes
-- at ten minutes to twelve I was back in the car.
I got out of the lane as quietly as I could, struck a back road that skirted the village, and let the car out as soon as I was beyond the last houses.
I only stopped once on the way in, to drop the beard and ulster into a pond.
I had a big stone ready to weight them with
and they went down plump, like a dead body
-- and at two o'clock I was back at my desk."
Granice stopped speaking and looked across the smoke-fumes at his listener;
but Denver's face remained inscrutable.
At length he said:
"Why did you want to tell me this?"
The question startled Granice.
He was about to explain, as he had explained to Ascham;
but suddenly it occurred to him that if his motive had not seemed convincing to the lawyer it would carry much less weight with Denver.
Both were successful men, and success does not understand the subtle agony of failure.
Granice cast about for another reason.
"Why, I -- the thing haunts me . . . remorse, I suppose you'd call it. . ."
Denver struck the ashes from his empty pipe.
"Remorse?
Bosh!"
he said energetically.
Granice's heart sank.
"You don't believe in -- remorse?"
"Not an atom:
in the man of action.
The mere fact of your talking of remorse proves to me that you're not the man to have planned and put through such a job."
Granice groaned.
"Well --
I lied to you about remorse.
I've never felt any."
Denver's lips tightened sceptically about his freshly-filled pipe.
"What was your motive, then?
You must have had one."
"I'll tell you --"
And Granice began again to rehearse the story of his failure, of his loathing for life.
"Don't say you don't believe me this time . . . that this isn't a real reason!"
he stammered out piteously as he ended.
Denver meditated.
"No, I won't say that.
I've seen too many queer things.
There's always a reason for wanting to get out of life --
the wonder is that we find so many for staying in!"
"Believe that you're sick of the job?
Yes.
And that you haven't the nerve to pull the trigger?
Oh, yes
-- that's easy enough, too.
But all that doesn't make you a murderer
-- though I don't say it proves you could never have been one."
"I have been one, Denver
-- I swear to you."
"Perhaps."
He meditated.
"Just tell me one or two things."
"Oh, go ahead.
You won't stump me!"
Granice heard himself say with a laugh.
"Well
-- how did you make all those trial trips without exciting your sister's curiosity?
I knew your night habits pretty well at that time, remember.
You were very seldom out late.
Didn't the change in your ways surprise her?"
"No;
because she was away at the time.
She went to pay several visits in the country soon after we came back from Wrenfield,
and was only in town for a night or two before
-- before I did the job."
"And that night she went to bed early with a headache?"
"Yes
-- blinding.
She didn't know anything when she had that kind.
And her room was at the back of the flat."
Denver again meditated.
"And when you got back
-- she didn't hear you?
You got in without her knowing it?"
"Yes.
I went straight to my work
-- took it up at the word where I'd left off
-- Why, Denver, don't you remember?"
Granice suddenly, passionately interjected.
"Remember -- ?"
"Yes;
how you found me
-- when you looked in that morning,
between two and three . . . your usual hour . . .?"
"Yes,"
the editor nodded.
Granice gave a short laugh.
"In my old coat -- with my pipe:
looked as if I'd been working all night, didn't I?
Well, I hadn't been in my chair ten minutes!"
Denver uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again.
"I didn't know whether you remembered that."
"What?"
"My coming in that particular night -- or morning."
Granice swung round in his chair.
"Why, man alive!
That's why I'm here now.
Because it was you who spoke for me at the inquest, when they looked round to see what all the old man's heirs had been doing that night
-- you who testified to having dropped in and found me at my desk as usual. . . .
I thought that would appeal to your journalistic sense if nothing else would!"
Denver smiled.
"Oh, my journalistic sense is still susceptible enough
-- and the idea's picturesque, I grant you:
asking the man who proved your alibi to establish your guilt."
"That's it
Granice's laugh had a ring of triumph.
"Well, but how about the other chap's testimony
-- I mean that young doctor:
what was his name?
Ned Ranney.
Don't you remember my testifying
that I'd met him at the elevated station,
and told him I was on my way to smoke a pipe with you, and his saying:
'All right;
you'll find him in.
I passed the house two hours ago, and saw his shadow against the blind, as usual.'
And the lady with the toothache in the flat across the way:
she corroborated his statement, you remember."
"Yes;
I remember."
Well, then?"
"Simple enough.
Before starting I rigged up a kind of mannikin with old coats and a cushion -- something to cast a shadow on the blind.
All you fellows were used to seeing my shadow there in the small hours
-- I counted on that,
and knew you'd take any vague outline as mine."
"Simple enough, as you say.
But the woman with the toothache saw the shadow move
-- you remember she said she saw you sink forward, as if you'd fallen asleep."
"Yes;
and she was right.
It did move.
I suppose some extra-heavy dray must have jolted by the flimsy building
-- at any rate, something gave my mannikin a jar,
and when I came back he had sunk forward,
half over the table."
There was a long silence between the two men.
Granice, with a throbbing heart, watched Denver refill his pipe.
The editor, at any rate, did not sneer and flout him.
After all, journalism gave a deeper insight than the law into the fantastic possibilities of life,
prepared one better to allow for the incalculableness of human impulses.
"Well?"
Granice faltered out.
Denver stood up with a shrug.
"Look here, man-- what's wrong with you?
Make a clean breast of it!
Nerves gone to smash?
I'd like to take you to see a chap I know
-- an ex-prize-fighter
-- who's a wonder at pulling fellows in your state out of their hole --"
"Oh, oh --"
Granice broke in.
and the two men eyed each other.
"You don't believe me, then?"
"You don't believe me, then?"
There wasn't a flaw in your alibi."
"But haven't I filled it full of them now?"
Denver shook his head.
"I might think so if I hadn't happened to know that you wanted to.
There's the hitch, don't you see?"
Granice groaned.
"No, I didn't.
You mean my wanting to be found guilty -- ?"
"Of course!
If somebody else had accused you, the story might have been worth looking into.
As it is, a child could have invented it.
It doesn't do much credit to your ingenuity."
Granice turned sullenly toward the door.
What was the use of arguing?
But on the threshold a sudden impulse drew him back.
"Look here, Denver -- I daresay you're right.
But will you do just one thing to prove it?
Put my statement in the Investigator,
just as I've made it.
Ridicule it as much as you like.
Only give the other fellows a chance at it -- men who don't know anything about me.
Set them talking and looking about.
I don't care a damn whether you believe me
-- what I want is to convince the Grand Jury!
I oughtn't to have come to a man who knows me
-your cursed incredulity is infectious.
I don't put my case well,
because I know in advance it's discredited,
and I almost end by not believing it myself.
That's why I can't convince YOU.
It's a vicious circle."
He laid a hand on Denver's arm.
"Send a stenographer,
and put my statement in the paper.
But Denver did not warm to the idea.
"My dear fellow, you seem to forget that all the evidence was pretty thoroughly sifted at the time,
every possible clue followed up.
The public would have been ready enough then to believe that you murdered old Lenman
-you or anybody else.
All they wanted was a murderer
-- the most improbable would have served.
But your alibi was too confoundedly complete.
And nothing you've told me has shaken it."
Denver laid his cool hand over the other's burning fingers.
"Look here, old fellow, go home and work up a better case
-- then come in
and submit it to the Investigator."
The perspiration was rolling off Granice's forehead.
Every few minutes he had to draw out his handkerchief and wipe the moisture from his haggard face.
For an hour and a half he had been talking steadily, putting his case to the District Attorney.
Luckily he had a speaking acquaintance with Allonby, and had obtained, without much difficulty, a private audience on the very day after his talk with Robert Denver.
In the interval between he had hurried home, got out of his evening clothes, and gone forth again at once into the dreary dawn.
His fear of Ascham and the alienist made it impossible for him to remain in his rooms.
And it seemed to him that the only way of averting that hideous peril was by establishing, in some sane impartial mind, the proof of his guilt.
Even if he had not been so incurably sick of life, the electric chair seemed now the only alternative to the straitjacket.
As he paused to wipe his forehead he saw the District Attorney glance at his watch.
The gesture was significant, and Granice lifted an appealing hand.
"I don't expect you to believe me now
-but can't you put me under arrest, and have the thing looked into?"
Allonby smiled faintly under his heavy grayish moustache.
He had a ruddy face, full and jovial, in which his keen professional eyes seemed to keep watch over impulses not strictly professional.
"Well, I don't know that we need lock you up just yet.
But of course I'm bound to look into your statement --"
Granice rose with an exquisite sense of relief.
Surely Allonby wouldn't have said that if he hadn't believed him!
"That's all right.
Then I needn't detain you.
I can be found at any time at my apartment."
He gave the address.
The District Attorney smiled again, more openly.
"What do you say to leaving it for an hour or two this evening?
I'm giving a little supper at Rector's
-- quiet, little affair, you understand:
just Miss Melrose
-- I think you know her
-- and a friend or two;
and if you'll join us. . ."
Granice stumbled out of the office without knowing what reply he had made.
He waited for four days
-- four days of concentrated horror.
During the first twenty-four hours the fear of Ascham's alienist dogged him;
and as that subsided, it was replaced by the exasperating sense that his avowal had made no impression on the District Attorney.
Evidently, if he had been going to look into the case, Allonby would have been heard from before now. . . .
And that mocking invitation to supper showed clearly enough how little the story had impressed him!
Granice was overcome by the futility of any farther attempt to inculpate himself.
He was chained to life
-- a "prisoner of consciousness."
Where was it he had read the phrase?
Well, he was learning what it meant.
In the glaring night-hours, when his brain seemed ablaze, he was visited by a sense of his fixed identity, of his irreducible, inexpugnable selfness , keener,
more insidious, more unescapable, than any sensation he had ever known.
He had not guessed that the mind was capable of such intricacies of self-realization, of penetrating so deep into its own dark windings.
Often he woke from his brief snatches of sleep with the feeling that something material was clinging to him, was on his hands and face, and in his throat
-- and as his brain cleared he understood that it was the sense of his own loathed personality that stuck to him like some thick viscous substance.
Then, in the first morning hours, he would rise and look out of his window at the awakening activities of the street
-- at the street-cleaners, the ash-cart drivers, and the other dingy workers flitting hurriedly by through the sallow winter light.
Oh, to be one of them -- any of them -- to take his chance in any of their skins!
They were the toilers
-- the men whose lot was pitied
-- the victims wept over and ranted about by altruists and economists;
and how gladly he would have taken up the load of any one of them, if only he might have shaken off his own!
But, no
-the iron circle of consciousness held them too:
each one was hand-cuffed to his own hideous ego.
Why wish to be any one man rather than another?
The only absolute good was not to be . . .
And Flint, coming in to draw his bath, would ask
if he preferred his eggs scrambled or poached that morning?
On the fifth day he wrote a long urgent letter to Allonby;
and for the succeeding two days he had the occupation of waiting for an answer.
He hardly stirred from his rooms, in his fear of missing the letter by a moment;
but would the District Attorney write,
or send a representative: a policeman, a "secret agent," or some other mysterious emissary of the law?
On the third morning Flint, stepping softly -- as if, confound it! his master were ill -- entered the library where Granice sat behind an unread newspaper,
and proferred a card on a tray.
Granice read the name-- J. B. Hewson -- and underneath, in pencil, "From the District Attorney's office."
He started up with a thumping heart, and signed an assent to the servant.
Mr. Hewson was a slight sallow nondescript man of about fifty
-the kind of man of whom one is sure to see a specimen in any crowd.
"Just the type of the successful detective,"
Granice reflected as he shook hands with his visitor.
And it was in that character that Mr. Hewson briefly introduced himself.
He had been sent by the District Attorney to have "a quiet talk" with Mr. Granice -- to ask him to repeat the statement he had made about the Lenman murder.
His manner was so quiet, so reasonable and receptive, that Granice's self-confidence returned.
Here was a sensible man -- a man who knew his business
-- it would be easy enough to make him see through that ridiculous alibi!
Granice offered Mr. Hewson a cigar, and lighting one himself
-- to prove his coolness
-- began again to tell his story.
He was conscious, as he proceeded, of telling it better than ever before.
Practice helped, no doubt;
and his listener's detached, impartial attitude helped still more.
He could see that Hewson, at least, had not decided in advance to disbelieve him, and the sense of being trusted made him more lucid and more consecutive.
Yes, this time his words would certainly carry conviction. . .
Despairingly, Granice gazed up and down the shabby street.
Beside him stood a young man with bright prominent eyes,
a smooth but not too smoothly-shaven face, and an Irish smile.
The young man's nimble glance followed Granice's.
"Sure of the number, are you?"
he asked briskly.
"Oh, yes
-- it was 104."
"Well, then, the new building has swallowed it up
-- that's certain."
He tilted his head back and surveyed the half-finished front of a brick and limestone flat-house
that reared its flimsy elegance above a row of tottering tenements and stables.
"Dead sure?"
"Yes,"
said Granice, discouraged.
"And even if I hadn't been, I know the garage was just opposite Leffler's over there."
He pointed across the street to a tumble-down stable
with a blotched sign on which the words "Livery and Boarding" were still faintly discernible.
The young man dashed across to the opposite pavement.
"Well, that's something -- may get a clue there.
Leffler's -- same name there, anyhow.
You remember that name?"
"Yes -- distinctly."
Granice had felt a return of confidence since he had enlisted the interest of the Explorer's "smartest" reporter.
If there were moments when he hardly believed his own story, there were others when it seemed impossible that every one should not believe it;
and young Peter McCarren, peering, listening, questioning, jotting down notes, inspired him with an exquisite sense of security.
McCarren had fastened on the case at once,
No one else had treated Granice in that way
-- even Allonby's detective had not taken a single note.
And though a week had elapsed since the visit of that authorized official, nothing had been heard from the District Attorney's office:
Allonby had apparently dropped the matter again.
But McCarren wasn't going to drop it
-- not he!
He positively hung on Granice's footsteps.
They had spent the greater part of the previous day together, and now they were off again, running down clues.
But at Leffler's they got none, after all.
Leffler's was no longer a stable.
It was condemned to demolition, and in the respite between sentence and execution it had become a vague place of storage, a hospital for broken-down carriages and carts,
presided over by a blear-eyed old woman who knew nothing of Flood's garage across the way
-- did not even remember what had stood there before the new flat-house began to rise.
"Well -- we may run Leffler down somewhere;
I've seen harder jobs done,"
said McCarren, cheerfully noting down the name.
As they walked back toward Sixth Avenue he added, in a less sanguine tone:
"I'd undertake now to put the thing through if you could only put me on the track of that cyanide."
Granice's heart sank.
Yes
-- there was the weak spot;
he had felt it from the first!
But he still hoped to convince McCarren that his case was strong enough without it;
and he urged the reporter to come back to his rooms and sum up the facts with him again.
"Sorry, Mr. Granice, but I'm due at the office now.
Besides, it'd be no use till I get some fresh stuff to work on.
Suppose I call you up tomorrow or next day?"
He plunged into a trolley and left Granice gazing desolately after him.
Two days later he reappeared at the apartment, a shade less jaunty in demeanor.
"Well, Mr. Granice, the stars in their courses are against you, as the bard says.
Can't get a trace of Flood, or of Leffler either.
And you say you bought the motor through Flood, and sold it through him, too?"
"Yes,"
said Granice wearily.
"Who bought it, do you know?"
Granice wrinkled his brows.
"Why, Flood
-- yes, Flood himself.
I sold it back to him three months later."
"Flood?
The devil!
And I've ransacked the town for Flood.
That kind of business disappears as if the earth had swallowed it."
Granice, discouraged, kept silence.
"That brings us back to the poison,"
McCarren continued, his note-book out.
"Just go over that again, will you?"
And Granice went over it again.
It had all been so simple at the time
-- and he had been so clever in covering up his traces!
As soon as he decided on poison he looked about for an acquaintance who manufactured chemicals;
and there was Jim Dawes, a Harvard classmate, in the dyeing business
-- just the man.
But at the last moment it occurred to him that suspicion might turn toward so obvious an opportunity, and he decided on a more tortuous course.
Another friend, Carrick Venn, a student of medicine
whom irremediable ill-health had kept from the practice of his profession,
amused his leisure with experiments in physics, for the exercise of which he had set up a simple laboratory.
Granice had the habit of dropping in to smoke a cigar with him on Sunday afternoons, and the friends generally sat in Venn's work-shop, at the back of the old family house in Stuyvesant Square.
Off this work-shop was the cupboard of supplies, with its row of deadly bottles.
Carrick Venn was an original, a man of restless curious tastes,
and his place, on a Sunday, was often full of visitors:
a cheerful crowd of journalists, scribblers, painters, experimenters in divers forms of expression.
Coming and going among so many, it was easy enough to pass unperceived;
and one afternoon Granice, arriving before Venn had returned home, found himself alone in the work-shop, and quickly slipping into the cupboard, transferred the drug to his pocket.
But that had happened ten years ago;
and Venn, poor fellow, was long since dead of his dragging ailment.
His old father was dead, too, the house in Stuyvesant Square had been turned into a boarding-house,
and the shifting life of New York had passed its rapid sponge over every trace of their obscure little history.
Even the optimistic McCarren seemed to acknowledge the hopelessness of seeking for proof in that direction.
"And there's the third door slammed in our faces."
He shut his note-book, and throwing back his head, rested his bright inquisitive eyes on Granice's furrowed face.
"Look here, Mr. Granice
-- you see the weak spot, don't you?"
The other made a despairing motion.
"I see so many!"
"Yes:
but the one that weakens all the others.
Why the deuce do you want this thing known?
Why do you want to put your head into the noose?"
Granice looked at him hopelessly,
trying to take the measure of his quick light irreverent mind.
No one so full of a cheerful animal life would believe in the craving for death as a sufficient motive;
and Granice racked his brain for one more convincing.
But suddenly he saw the reporter's face soften, and melt to a naive sentimentalism.
"Mr. Granice
-- has the memory of it always haunted you?"
Granice stared a moment, and then leapt at the opening.
"That's it --
the memory of it . . .
McCarren nodded vehemently.
"Dogged your steps, eh?
Wouldn't let you sleep?
The time came when you had to make a clean breast of it?"
"I had to.
Can't you understand?"
The reporter struck his fist on the table.
"God, sir!
I don't suppose there's a human being with a drop of warm blood in him that can't picture the deadly horrors of remorse --"
The Celtic imagination was aflame,
and Granice mutely thanked him for the word.
What neither Ascham nor Denver would accept as a conceivable motive the Irish reporter seized on as the most adequate;
and, as he said, once one could find a convincing motive, the difficulties of the case became so many incentives to effort.
"Remorse
-- REMORSE,"
he repeated, rolling the word under his tongue with an accent that was a clue to the psychology of the popular drama;
and Granice, perversely, said to himself:
"If I could only have struck that note I should have been running in six theatres at once."
He saw that from that moment McCarren's professional zeal would be fanned by emotional curiosity;
and he profited by the fact to propose that they should dine together, and go on afterward to some music-hall or theatre.
It was becoming necessary to Granice to feel himself an object of pre-occupation, to find himself in another mind.
He took a kind of gray penumbral pleasure in riveting McCarren's attention on his case;
and to feign the grimaces of moral anguish became a passionately engrossing game.
He had not entered a theatre for months;
but he sat out the meaningless performance in rigid tolerance, sustained by the sense of the reporter's observation.
Between the acts, McCarren amused him with anecdotes about the audience:
he knew every one by sight, and could lift the curtain from every physiognomy.
Granice listened indulgently.
He had lost all interest in his kind, but he knew that he was himself the real centre of McCarren's attention, and that every word the latter spoke had an indirect bearing on his own problem.
"See that fellow over there
-- the little dried-up man in the third row, pulling his moustache?
His memoirs would be worth publishing,"
McCarren said suddenly in the last entr'acte.
Granice, following his glance, recognized the detective from Allonby's office.
For a moment he had the thrilling sense that he was being shadowed.
"Caesar, if he could talk -- !"
McCarren continued.
"Know who he is, of course?
Dr. John B. Stell,
the biggest alienist in the country --"
Granice, with a start, bent again between the heads in front of him.
That man -- the fourth from the aisle?
You're mistaken.
That's not Dr. Stell."
McCarren laughed.
"Well, I guess I've been in court enough to know Stell when I see him.
He testifies in nearly all the big cases where they plead insanity."
A cold shiver ran down Granice's spine, but he repeated obstinately:
"That's not Dr. Stell."
"Not Stell?
Why, man, I know him.
Look -- here he comes.
If it isn't Stell, he won't speak to me."
The little dried-up man was moving slowly up the aisle.
As he neared McCarren he made a slight gesture of recognition.
"How'do, Doctor Stell?
Pretty slim show, ain't it?"
the reporter cheerfully flung out at him.
And Mr. J. B. Hewson, with a nod of amicable assent, passed on.
Granice sat benumbed.
He knew he had not been mistaken
-- the man who had just passed was the same man whom Allonby had sent to see him:
a physician disguised as a detective.
Allonby, then, had thought him insane,
like the others -- had regarded his confession as the maundering of a maniac.
The discovery froze Granice with horror
-- he seemed to see the mad-house gaping for him.
"Isn't there a man a good deal like him
-- a detective named J. B. Hewson?"
But he knew in advance what McCarren's answer would be.
"Hewson?
J. B. Hewson?
Never heard of him.
But that was J. B. Stell fast enough
-- I guess he can be trusted to know himself, and you saw he answered to his name."
Some days passed before Granice could obtain a word with the District Attorney:
he began to think that Allonby avoided him.
But when they were face to face Allonby's jovial countenance showed no sign of embarrassment.
He waved his visitor to a chair, and leaned across his desk with the encouraging smile of a consulting physician.
Granice broke out at once:
"That detective you sent me the other day --"
Allonby raised a deprecating hand.
" -- I know:
it was Stell the alienist.
Why did you do that, Allonby?"
The other's face did not lose its composure.
"Because I looked up your story first
-- and there's nothing in it."
"Nothing in it?"
Granice furiously interposed.
"Absolutely nothing.
If there is, why the deuce don't you bring me proofs?
I know you've been talking to Peter Ascham,
and to Denver, and to that little ferret McCarren of the Explorer.
Have any of them been able to make out a case for you?
No.
Well, what am I to do?"
Granice's lips began to tremble.
"Why did you play me that trick?"
"About Stell?
I had to, my dear fellow:
it's part of my business.
Stell is a detective, if you come to that
-- every doctor is."
The trembling of Granice's lips increased, communicating itself in a long quiver to his facial muscles.
He forced a laugh through his dry throat.
"Well
-- and what did he detect?"
"In you?
Oh, he thinks it's overwork
-- overwork and too much smoking.
If you look in on him some day at his office he'll show you the record of hundreds of cases like yours,
and advise you what treatment to follow.
It's one of the commonest forms of hallucination.
Have a cigar, all the same."
"But, Allonby, I killed that man!"
The District Attorney's large hand, outstretched on his desk, had an almost imperceptible gesture,
and a moment later, as if an answer to the call of an electric bell, a clerk looked in from the outer office.
"Sorry, my dear fellow
-- lot of people waiting.
Drop in on Stell some morning,"
Allonby said, shaking hands.
McCarren had to own himself beaten:
there was absolutely no flaw in the alibi.
And since his duty to his journal obviously forbade his wasting time on insoluble mysteries, he ceased to frequent Granice,
who dropped back into a deeper isolation.
For a day or two after his visit to Allonby he continued to live in dread of Dr. Stell.
Why might not Allonby have deceived him as to the alienist's diagnosis?
What if he were really being shadowed, not by a police agent but by a mad-doctor?
To have the truth out, he suddenly determined to call on Dr. Stell.
The physician received him kindly, and reverted without embarrassment to the conditions of their previous meeting.
"We have to do that occasionally, Mr. Granice;
it's one of our methods.
And you had given Allonby a fright."
Granice was silent.
He would have liked to reaffirm his guilt, to produce the fresh arguments which had occurred to him since his last talk with the physician;
but he feared his eagerness might be taken for a symptom of derangement, and he affected to smile away Dr. Stell's allusion.
"You think, then, it's a case of brain-fag
-- nothing more?"
"Nothing more.
And I should advise you to knock off tobacco.
You smoke a good deal, don't you?"
He developed his treatment,
recommending massage, gymnastics, travel, or any form of diversion
that did not
-- that in short --
Granice interrupted him impatiently.
"Oh, I loathe all that
-- and I'm sick of travelling."
"H'm.
Then some larger interest
-- politics, reform, philanthropy?
Something to take you out of yourself."
"Yes.
I understand,"
said Granice wearily.
"Above all, don't lose heart.
I see hundreds of cases like yours,"
the doctor added cheerfully from the threshold.
On the doorstep Granice stood still and laughed.
Hundreds of cases like his
-- the case of a man who had committed a murder, who confessed his guilt, and whom no one would believe!
Why, there had never been a case like it in the world.
What a good figure Stell would have made in a play:
the great alienist who couldn't read a man's mind any better than that!
Granice saw huge comic opportunities in the type.
But as he walked away, his fears dispelled, the sense of listlessness returned on him.
For the first time since his avowal to Peter Ascham he found himself without an occupation,
and understood that he had been carried through the past weeks only by the necessity of constant action.
Now his life had once more become a stagnant backwater,
and as he stood on the street corner watching the tides of traffic sweep by, he asked himself despairingly how much longer he could endure to float about in the sluggish circle of his consciousness.
The thought of self-destruction recurred to him;
but again his flesh recoiled.
He yearned for death from other hands, but he could never take it from his own.
And, aside from his insuperable physical reluctance, another motive restrained him.
He was possessed by the dogged desire to establish the truth of his story.
He refused to be swept aside as an irresponsible dreamer
-- even if he had to kill himself in the end,
he would not do so before proving to society that he had deserved death from it.
He began to write long letters to the papers;
but after the first had been published and commented on, public curiosity was quelled by a brief statement from the District Attorney's office, and the rest of his communications remained unprinted.
Ascham came to see him, and begged him to travel.
Robert Denver dropped in, and tried to joke him out of his delusion;
till Granice, mistrustful of their motives, began to dread the reappearance of Dr. Stell, and set a guard on his lips.
But the words he kept back engendered others and still others in his brain.
His inner self became a humming factory of arguments, and he spent long hours reciting and writing down elaborate statements of his crime,
which he constantly retouched and developed.
Then gradually his activity languished under the lack of an audience, the sense of being buried beneath deepening drifts of indifference.
In a passion of resentment he swore that he would prove himself a murderer, even if he had to commit another crime to do it;
and for a sleepless night or two the thought flamed red on his darkness.
But daylight dispelled it.
The determining impulse was lacking and he hated too promiscuously to choose his victim. . .
So he was thrown back on the unavailing struggle to impose the truth of his story.
As fast as one channel closed on him he tried to pierce another through the sliding sands of incredulity.
But every issue seemed blocked, and the whole human race leagued together to cheat one man of the right to die.
Thus viewed, the situation became so monstrous that he lost his last shred of self-restraint in contemplating it.
What if he were really the victim of some mocking experiment,
the centre of a ring of holiday-makers jeering at a poor creature in its blind dashes against the solid walls of consciousness?
But, no
-- men were not so uniformly cruel:
there were flaws in the close surface of their indifference, cracks of weakness and pity here and there. . .
Granice began to think that his mistake lay in having appealed to persons more or less familiar with his past,
and to whom the visible conformities of his life seemed a final disproof of its one fierce secret deviation.
The general tendency was to take for the whole of life the slit seen between the blinders of habit:
and in his walk down that narrow vista Granice cut a correct enough figure.
To a vision free to follow his whole orbit his story would be more intelligible:
it would be easier to convince a chance idler in the street than the trained intelligence hampered by a sense of his antecedents.
This idea shot up in him with the tropic luxuriance of each new seed of thought,
and he began to walk the streets, and to frequent out-of-the-way chop-houses and bars in his search for the impartial stranger to whom he should disclose himself.
At first every face looked encouragement;
but at the crucial moment he always held back.
So much was at stake, and it was so essential that his first choice should be decisive.
He dreaded stupidity, timidity, intolerance.
The imaginative eye, the furrowed brow, were what he sought.
He must reveal himself only to a heart versed in the tortuous motions of the human will;
and he began to hate the dull benevolence of the average face.
Once or twice, obscurely, allusively, he made a beginning
-- once sitting down at a man's side in a basement chop-house,
another day approaching a lounger on an east-side wharf.
But in both cases the premonition of failure checked him on the brink of avowal.
His dread of being taken for a man in the clutch of a fixed idea gave him an unnatural keenness in reading the expression of his interlocutors, and he had provided himself in advance with a series of verbal alternatives, trap-doors of evasion from the first dart of ridicule or suspicion.
He passed the greater part of the day in the streets, coming home at irregular hours, dreading the silence and orderliness of his apartment, and the critical scrutiny of Flint.
His real life was spent in a world so remote from this familiar setting that he sometimes had the mysterious sense of a living metempsychosis,
a furtive passage from one identity to another
-- yet the other as unescapably himself!
One humiliation he was spared:
the desire to live never revived in him.
Not for a moment was he tempted to a shabby pact with existing conditions.
He wanted to die,
wanted it with the fixed unwavering desire
which alone attains its end.
And still the end eluded him!
It would not always, of course -- he had full faith in the dark star of his destiny.
And he could prove it best by repeating his story, persistently and indefatigably, pouring it into indifferent ears, hammering it into dull brains, till at last it kindled a spark, and some one of the careless millions paused, listened, believed. . .
It was a mild March day,
and he had been loitering on the westside docks, looking at faces.
He was becoming an expert in physiognomies:
his eagerness no longer made rash darts and awkward recoils.
He knew now the face he needed, as clearly as if it had come to him in a vision;
and not till he found it would he speak.
As he walked eastward through the shabby reeking streets he had a premonition that he should find it that morning.
Perhaps it was the promise of spring in the air
-- certainly he felt calmer than for many days. . .
He turned into Washington Square, struck across it obliquely, and walked up University Place.
Its heterogeneous passers always allured him
-- they were less hurried than in Broadway, less enclosed and classified than in Fifth Avenue.
He walked slowly, watching for his face.
At Union Square he felt a sudden relapse into discouragement,
like a votary who has watched too long for a sign from the altar.
Perhaps, after all, he should never find his face. . .
The air was languid, and he felt tired.
He walked between the bald grass-plots and the twisted trees, making for an empty seat.
Presently he passed a bench on which a girl sat alone, and something as definite as the twitch of a cord made him stop before her.
He had never dreamed of telling his story to a girl,
had hardly looked at the women's faces as they passed.
His case was man's work:
how could a woman help him?
But this girl's face was extraordinary
-- quiet and wide as a clear evening sky.
It suggested a hundred images of space, distance, mystery,
like ships he had seen, as a boy, quietly berthed by a familiar wharf,
but with the breath of far seas and strange harbours in their shrouds. . .
Certainly this girl would understand.
He went up to her quietly, lifting his hat, observing the forms
-- wishing her to see at once that he was "a gentleman."
"I am a stranger to you,"
he began, sitting down beside her,
"but your face is so extremely intelligent that I feel. . .
I feel it is the face I've waited for . . .
looked for everywhere;
and I want to tell you --"
The girl's eyes widened:
she rose to her feet.
In his dismay he ran a few steps after her, and caught her roughly by the arm.
"Here
-- wait
-- listen!
Oh, don't scream, you fool!"
he shouted out.
He felt a hand on his own arm;
turned and confronted a policeman.
Instantly he understood that he was being arrested, and something hard within him was loosened and ran to tears.
"Ah, you know
-- you know I'm guilty!"
He was conscious that a crowd was forming, and that the girl's frightened face had disappeared.
But what did he care about her face?
It was the policeman who had really understood him.
He turned and followed, the crowd at his heels. . .
In the charming place in which he found himself
there were so many sympathetic faces that he felt more than ever convinced of the certainty of making himself heard.
It was a bad blow, at first, to find that he had not been arrested for murder;
but Ascham, who had come to him at once, explained that he needed rest, and the time to "review" his statements;
it appeared that reiteration had made them a little confused and contradictory.
To this end he had willingly acquiesced in his removal to a large quiet establishment, with an open space and trees about it,
where he had found a number of intelligent companions, some, like himself, engaged in preparing or reviewing statements of their cases, and others ready to lend an interested ear to his own recital.
For a time he was content to let himself go on the tranquil current of this existence;
but although his auditors gave him for the most part an encouraging attention, which, in some, went the length of really brilliant and helpful suggestion, he gradually felt a recurrence of his old doubts.
Either his hearers were not sincere, or else they had less power to aid him than they boasted.
His interminable conferences resulted in nothing, and as the benefit of the long rest made itself felt, it produced an increased mental lucidity which rendered inaction more and more unbearable.
At length he discovered that on certain days visitors from the outer world were admitted to his retreat;
and he wrote out long and logically constructed relations of his crime, and furtively slipped them into the hands of these messengers of hope.
This occupation gave him a fresh lease of patience, and he now lived only to watch for the visitors' days,
and scan the faces that swept by him like stars seen and lost in the rifts of a hurrying sky.
Mostly, these faces were strange and less intelligent than those of his companions.
But they represented his last means of access to the world, a kind of subterranean channel on which he could set his "statements" afloat, like paper boats which the mysterious current might sweep out into the open seas of life.
One day, however, his attention was arrested
by a familiar contour, a pair of bright prominent eyes, and a chin insufficiently shaved.
He sprang up and stood in the path of Peter McCarren.
The journalist looked at him doubtfully, then held out his hand with a startled deprecating,
"Why -- ?"
"You didn't know me?
I'm so changed?"
Granice faltered, feeling the rebound of the other's wonder.
"Why, no;
but you're looking quieter
-- smoothed out,"
McCarren smiled.
Granice's hand shook so that he could hardly draw the folded paper from his pocket.
As he did so he noticed that the reporter was accompanied by a tall man with grave compassionate eyes.
It came to Granice in a wild thrill of conviction that this was the face he had waited for. . .
"Perhaps your friend
-- he is your friend?
-- would glance over it
-- or I could put the case in a few words if you have time?"
Granice's voice shook like his hand.
If this chance escaped him he felt that his last hope was gone.
McCarren and the stranger looked at each other, and the former glanced at his watch.
"I'm sorry we can't stay and talk it over now, Mr. Granice;
but my friend has an engagement, and we're rather pressed --"
Granice continued to proffer the paper.
"I'm sorry
-- I think I could have explained.
But you'll take this, at any rate?"
The stranger looked at him gently.
"Certainly
-- I'll take it."
He had his hand out.
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye,"
Granice echoed.
He stood watching the two men move away from him through the long light hall;
and as he watched them a tear ran down his face.
But as soon as they were out of sight he turned and walked hastily toward his room,
beginning to hope again, already planning a new statement.
Outside the building the two men stood still,
and the journalist's companion looked up curiously at the long monotonous rows of barred windows.
"So that was Granice?"
"Yes
-- that was Granice,
poor devil,"
"Strange case!
I suppose there's never been one just like it?
He's still absolutely convinced that he committed that murder?"
"Absolutely.
The stranger reflected.
"And there was no conceivable ground for the idea?
No one could make out how it started?
A quiet conventional sort of fellow like that
-- where do you suppose he got such a delusion?
Did you ever get the least clue to it?"
McCarren stood still, his hands in his pockets, his head cocked up in contemplation of the barred windows.
Then he turned his bright hard gaze on his companion.
"That was the queer part of it.
I've never spoken of it
-- but I did get a clue."
"By Jove!
That's interesting.
What was it?"
McCarren formed his red lips into a whistle.
"Why -- that it wasn't a delusion."
He produced his effect
-- the other turned on him with a pallid stare.
"He murdered the man all right.
I tumbled on the truth by the merest accident, when I'd pretty nearly chucked the whole job."
"He murdered him
-- murdered his cousin?"
"Sure as you live.
Only don't split on me.
It's about the queerest business I ever ran into. . .
do about it?
Why, what was I to do?
I couldn't hang the poor devil, could I?
Lord,
but I was glad when they collared him,
and had him stowed away safe in there!"
The tall man listened with a grave face, grasping Granice's statement in his hand.
"Here
-- take this;
it makes me sick,"
he said abruptly, thrusting the paper at the reporter;
and the two men turned and walked in silence to the gates. | {
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åºäŒã£ãåœåã¯ããŸãæ°ã«ãªããªãã£ãããæé·ããã«ã€ããã¢ã«ãã§ã®å·Šç®ãé®®ãããªéã«å€ãã£ãŠãããå察ã«æµçŒã®æ¹ã¯èŒãã°ããã®éè²ã«å€åããŠãããå·Šå³ã®ç®ã®è²ã®å·®ã¯æããã«éç«ã£ãŠããŠããã | About half a year had passed since I first met Alfe. During this time, Alfe had learned to roll over and had started using her tiny hands and feet to attempt moving forward.
It seemed like she was on the verge of beginning a style of movement called crawling. I had acquired this skill a few months ago, so I could readily understand Alfeâs progress.
âReally, Leafa has been a tremendous help. I would have never thought of that foot massage.â
Judy frequently brought up the foot massage as one of my accomplishments.
Certainly, I initially understood that other babies also go through such phases, but hearing about it daily made me feel somewhat embarrassed. However, it seemed that Alfe had been less fussy lately, and her expression had brightened considerably from the previous, somewhat tired one, which was a welcome change.
âItâs just a coincidence. Leafa was just playing and fooling aroundââ
âBut Alfe seemed to be so comfortable and fell asleep like that for the first time.â
Hearing about how I was being of assistance to Alfe didnât make me feel bad at all. Being born a little earlier might mean I had some useful knowledge to offer in the future. The accumulation of knowledge during infancy was something I didnât have as Glass, so I needed to remember these bodily changes as well.
âAs expected, youâre a great big sister, Leafa.â
âAaa...â
Being treated as a big sister just because I was born a few months earlier than Alfe seemed a bit strange. After all, I was Alfeâs friend, not her sister...
Thinking about it, I suddenly realized that I had been categorizing Alfe as a friend without her saying anything to that effect.
âAawu, aawu.â
Alfe, who was lying next to me as usual, tugged at my clothes. This gesture of pulling at the hem and sleeves of my clothes had become more frequent when I was focused on the mothersâ conversation.
âAwufe.â
âAaau!â
When I called out, Alfe, who happily looked into my eyes, seemed to be calling my name. Even though I didnât understand what she was saying, it seemed like I needed to make an effort to understand Alfeâs conversation since she was talking to me more often. I found the mothersâ conversations more interesting, though, as they allowed me to learn about the worldâs situation.
I had also noticed that my father, Rudra, had been absent from home frequently recently. His profession as a soldier was likely a legitimate reason for his busyness, but my motherâs explanations only conveyed the matters concerning his work vaguely. There were probably military secrets involved, and even though I was growing, as a baby, there wasnât much I could do with the limited information I might gain...
âAau!â
Alfe didnât seem to like that I was lost in thought, so she pulled on my cheek.
I let out a small girlish scream as her nails scratched me. Alfe, arenât your nails getting a bit long?
âAa-ah?â
I took her tiny hand and brought it in front of her. Alfe blinked curiously but obediently followed my lead. For Alfe, it seemed that being attended to by me was more important, and she was generally calm when my attention was on her.
âNguu?â
It appeared to be due to small hangnails. I carefully cut them using my just-grown front teeth. Alfe squirmed playfully as I did this, and when I released her hand, she tried to put my hand in her mouth, as if in thanks.
âDaa.â
I declined, conveying it with my eyes as I pulled my hand away. Alfe frowned slightly, looking disappointed, but her curiosity quickly shifted to something else. She lifted her head as if gazing at the sky and opened her round eyes wide, staring at something.
During moments like this, Alfeâs eyes were incredibly beautiful.
Alfeâs eyes were an odd pair: the left was a sky-like blue, and the right gleamed with golden hues. Her right eye was not just an oddity; it possessed an extraordinary power known as âPure Eye.â In her right eye, she could see things like magical energy known as aether, and other things that were invisible to ordinary humans. Thatâs why she sometimes stared into space like this, but I couldnât comprehend what she saw.
I had known about Alfeâs extraordinary ability, the âPure Eye,â but I hadnât expected Iâd get a chance to inspect it up close like this. I was quite intrigued by what Alfe could see.
When you looked into someoneâs eyes, the world was reflected in them upside down, but I wondered if that fact stood true even for the Pure Eye. However, when I compared her eyes, they seemed to be reflecting a similar image.
Nevertheless, I never get tired of looking into Alfeâs eyes.
When we first met, I didnât pay much attention to them. However, as she grew, her left eye became a vivid blue, while her Pure Eye transformed into a brilliant gold. The contrast between the colors of her two eyes had become strikingly evident as she continued to grow. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 1,
"inserted_lines_src": 2,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
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眮ã管çããããšã«ãªã£ãã | As we all talked and waited, Eric returned from the palace.
âAh, youâre finally back.â
âThe secret passage really is useful.â
âAnyway, thereâs something I want you to see. Eric and Philly, you two follow me.â
âWhat is it?â
âShia and the rest of you should come too.â
The machine that created the Foolâs Stone was somewhat large, and so the drawing room would feel cramped.
And the backyard was made so that outsiders could not look inside.
Tama, Grulf, Shia, Nia and Luchila came too.
Lord Gerberga was sitting on Grulfâs back.
âI went on a walk with Nia, Grulf and Lord Gerberga today...â
I explained to Eric.
Then Kathe called us and we went to kill some goblins in a ruin.
Thatâs where we encountered vampires and found this machine.
âThis Most High King really bothers me.â
âThe Arch Vampire sacrificed his life to destroy the teleportation circle. He must be incredibly important.â
I explained as I took the machine out of the magic bag.
âPhilly, look at this. The vampires were apparently trying to use this machine to create more Foolâs Stones.â
âHmm? Hmm? So this is a dragon machine. How amazing.â
Philly was a genius alchemist who could make the Foolâs Stone.
âDo you think itâs really possible with this machine?â
âI will look into it. Just wait a moment.â
Philly began to inspect the machine with a serious expression.
We watched her in silence.
âSo this is...and this...oh? And this does that...â
Philly had revived the art of creating the Foolâs Stone at the age of fourteen.
That put her above even the Alchemists who worked in the palace.
âGeniuses have great ability to concentrate.â
Serulis said.
Milka nodded on as she watched.
Serulis threw an arm around and her pulled her close.
âSo that means.... And this causes the matter to unravel...â
Philly was mumbling to herself. But none of us knew what she was talking about.
After some time, she stopped and looked up at the sky.
âPhew.â
And she sighed deeply.
âPhilly. Did you learn anything?â
âYes. The dragons were a very great race...â
Philly said with admiration.
âThat impressive, huh?â
âWho knows just how much smarter they are compared to humans? Yes, this machine is very impressive.
I heard Phillyâs praise towards the dragons and immediately thought of Katheâs face.
A happy face that laughed boisterously. That dragon never seemed very smart.
âLeaving the intelligence of the dragons aside, their civilization is certainly great. So, can it make the Foolâs Stone?â
âYes, I am sure that it can.â
At Phillyâs words, Eric and I looked at each other.
âAccording to Kathe, there are other ruins with similar machines.â
âThis is grave news.â
Ericâs face darkened.
âAnd from what I heard from the vampires, it would not be strange if they have acquired some of them already.â
Shia tilted her head to the side.
âBut why did the dragons ever want to create the Foolâs Stone? Did they need them for something?â
âShia. That is quite wrong.â
Philly shook her head.
âWhat do mean by that?â
âThis is an alchemy machine. It can make more than just the Foolâs Stone.â
âPhilly. Are you saying it can make the Philosopherâs Stone as well?â
âIt is possible.â
Philly replied without hesitation.
âOh...â
Eric said with surprise.
The Philosopherâs Stone was used as the core for the barrier of divine protection.
It would definitely bring about a great advancement in human civilization if they could make them easily.
Even smaller towns would be able to have the barrier.
âPhilly. This machine can easily make both stones?
âNot easily. It will be difficult to get the materials.â
âAnd what materials are those?â
âI would like to explain the preconditions first...â
Normally, neither the Philosopherâs Stone or the Foolâs Stone required much in terms of ingredients.
âYou can make them with ordinary materials you can find anywhere.â
âReally?â
âOf course, the measurements and preparations of the materials is not easy. It requires a lot of precision.â
And that is why no one else but Philly was able to make them.
It was documented, and yet they were unable to.
Even the dark ones were unable to replicate it after learning it from Philly.
âBut this machine simplifies the process.â
âI see.â
âBut now you canât use ordinary ingredients.â
âThe Philosopherâs Stone requires the magic stones from monsters. And a lot of them. The Foolâs Stone uses the flesh and blood of god beasts and human life. Plainly, you need a great deal of sacrifices.â
âWould a goblin be able to do it with the right materials?â
âI wouldnât go that far... But it would be quite easy for vampires and humans.â
Eric opened his mouth gravely.
âIn any case, it is clear that the dark ones must not have these.â
âYes.â
âCan I ask you to keep it safe?â
âWhy not store it in the palace treasury?â
âI think it would be safer with you, Ruck.â
Upon Ericâs request, it was decided that I would keep the machine. | {
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ããããšãããããŸãã | Yarn bombing is when you take knitted or crocheted material out into the urban environment, graffiti-style -- or, more specifically, without permission and unsanctioned.
But when I started this over 10 years ago, I didn't have a word for it, I didn't have any ambitious notions about it, I had no visions of grandeur.
All I wanted to see was something warm and fuzzy and human-like on the cold, steel, gray facade that I looked at everyday.
So I wrapped the door handle.
I call this the Alpha Piece.
Little did I know that this tiny piece would change the course of my life.
So clearly the reaction was interesting.
It intrigued me and I thought, "What else could I do?"
Could I do something in the public domain that would get the same reaction?
So I wrapped the stop sign pole near my house.
The reaction was wild.
People would park their cars and get out of their cars and stare at it, and scratch their heads and stare at it, and take pictures of it and take pictures next to it, and all of that was really exciting to me and I wanted to do every stop sign pole in the neighborhood.
And the more that I did, the stronger the reaction.
So at this point I'm smitten.
I'm hooked.
This was all seductive.
I found my new passion and the urban environment was my playground.
So this is some of my early work.
I was very curious about this idea of enhancing the ordinary, the mundane, even the ugly, and not taking away its identity or its functionality but just giving it a well-tailored suit out of knitting.
And this was fun for me.
It was really fun to take inanimate objects and have them come to life.
So ...
I think we all see the humor in this, but -- I was at a point where I wanted to take it seriously.
I wanted to analyze it.
I wanted to know why I was letting this take over my life, why I was passionate about it, why were other people reacting so strongly to it.
And I realized something.
We all live in this fast-paced, digital world, but we still crave and desire something that's relatable.
I think we've all become desensitized by our overdeveloped cities that we live in, and billboards and advertisements, and giant parking lots, and we don't even complain about that stuff anymore.
So when you stumble upon a stop sign pole that's wrapped in knitting and it seems so out of place and then gradually -- weirdly -- you find a connection to it, that is the moment.
That is the moment I love and that is the moment I love to share with others.
So at this point, my curiosity grew.
It went from the fire hydrants and the stop sign poles to what else can I do with this material.
Can I do something big and large-scale and insurmountable?
So that's when the bus happened.
This was a real game changer for me.
I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for this one.
At this point, people were recognizing my work but there wasn't much out there that was wrapped in knitting that was large-scale, and this definitely was the first city bus to be wrapped in knitting.
So at this point, I'm experiencing, or I'm witnessing something interesting.
I may have started yarn bombing but I certainly don't own it anymore.
It had reached global status.
People from all over the world were doing this.
And I know this because I would travel to certain parts of the world that I'd never been to, and I'd stumble upon a stop sign pole and I knew I didn't wrap it.
So as I pursued my own goals with my art -- this is a lot of my recent work -- so was yarn bombing. Yarn bombing was also growing.
And that experience showed me the hidden power of this craft that there was this common language I had with the rest of the world.
It was through this granny hobby -- this unassuming hobby -- that I found commonality with people that I never thought I'd have a connection with.
So as I tell my story today, I'd also like to convey to you that hidden power can be found in the most unassuming places, and we all possess skills that are just waiting to be discovered.
If you think about our hands, these tools that are connected to us, and what they're capable of doing -- building houses and furniture, and painting giant murals -- and most of the time we hold a controller or a cell phone.
And I'm totally guilty of this as well.
But if you think about it, what would happen if you put those things down?
What would you make? What would you create with your own hands?
A lot of people think that I am a master knitter but I actually couldn't knit a sweater to save my life.
But I did something interesting with knitting that had never been done before.
I also wasn't "supposed to be" an artist in the sense that I wasn't formally trained to do this -- I'm a math major actually.
So I didn't think this was in the cards for me, but I also know that I didn't stumble upon this.
And when this happened to me, I held on tight, I fought for it and I'm proud to say that I am a working artist today.
So as we ponder the future, know that your future might not be so seamless.
And one day, you might be as bored as I was and knit a door handle to change your world forever.
Thank you. | {
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ãããŠèãªããããããŠããã | After leaving the guildâs branch, Lucella decided to part with Tim for the time being.
âIâll go have a little talk with Gamel. I alone will be enough. Meanwhile, can you guys try and make Lucella less conspicuous?â
â...Huh?â
The armored man walked away with a wave of his hand, leaving behind a confused Lucella who couldnât follow their conversation.
âWhat do you mean less conspicuous?â
âLook, youâre not gonna tell me you plan to keep walking around wrapped in pelts like a feral child, are you?â
âIsnât it deviant to wear a cloak while mostly exposed underneath?â
They were absolutely right.
If Lucella removed the robe, it would definitely draw the eyes of the pedestrians from around.
âYou almost went and stood out at the guild earlier too. So you should at least try to look normal. Standing out is unavoidable but at least make it moderate.â
âTrue...â
âYou should buy normal clothes too of course, but youâd want an adventurer get-up too. If you look like an adventurer, then even if your strange aura leaks out the other party is more likely to accept it, right?â
Viola had a point.
The worldâs common sense was that any kind of oddball could become an adventurer, so it would make the situation more swallowable compared to a simple weird child walking around.
Either way, he had to get clothes to live in a civilized society.
âThe problem is that they donât sell a lot of child-sized armor.â
âAbout that... we have the pelts of the Variants that Lucella brought, right?â
âI know a pervert that will get off from seeing them.â
âOh... you wanna make
do it?â
âItâs just around the corner too.â
Wein and Viola chatted and nodded in understanding with no regard to Lucella.
âWhat? Who?â
As you would expect, there were many stores around the guildâs branch that were aimed at adventurers.
Big towns like Kugutfulm act as hubs for the adventurers working in the smaller towns and villages in the vicinity, so this tendency was even stronger here.
Adamant Sewing was one such store, and it focused on custom-made non-metal armor manufacturing and repairs. Colorful threads, strips, skins in the middle of making, rolls of clothes, and many such things filled the inside of its workshop walls and ceiling.
âKyaaaaaaaaaa! C-Can I? Can I r-really cut it?! And sew it?! And dye it too?! Really?! Y-Youâre serious, right?!â
Seeing so many varieties of pelts lined up on the low work table, the workshopâs owner, Midum, let out a shrill while squirming.
Based on her outward appearance, Midum appeared to be the same age as Lucella, but she was an adult in reality. Dwarven women generally grew up until they looked like humans in their early teens, after which they stopped growing altogether.
There were countless pelts piled up in Lucella and Kafalâs house. It was the result of Kafal accurately peeling each monster she took down and gifting the pelt to Lucella.
Lucella took a few of those with him. Even a single pelt of a Variant cost a fortune, and they were first-class articles as armor materials too.
Lucella brought them just in case they came in handy, and they quickly did.
âAre you fine with us paying the processing costs and hush money with the leftover scraps of it?â
âW-W-W-What are you scheming?! Y-Youâre not only letting me sew this, but e-even giving me the scraps?! A-Are you a devil trying to trick this little Midum?!â
âAnd youâre going to have this adorable girl wear it?! Ahhh, my hands are trembling already!â
The dwarven girl with her hair up and the work apron on her was so excited that Wein who approached with the request was put off by it.
She breathed wildly through her nose and stared at Lucella with a feverish gaze.
âMeasurements taken!â
âYou did it with just a glance?!â
âThatâs just how she is... a pervert, that is.â
âSpeaking of which, Viola, you seem to have gained . kg since the last time we met! Did you eat a bit too much?â
âIâll slaughter you!!â
Viola leaped at Midum and started stretching her elastic cheeks.
âHow many days will it take?â
âHehehehehe, donât look down on this great Midum. I canât possibly do any other work, so Iâll close the shop and continue nonstop and it should take - days.â
âThat fast? You have to start by processing the pelts right? They are rare materials so I expect good-quality armor, okay?â
âThatâs how long it would take to just shape them into gear. Enchanting is not my specialty so Iâll just make the slots for it. Besides, a Variantâs pelt is a magic item on its own, so Iâm not sure if it even needs any enchanting.â
She rolled up and fixed her sleeves in place and started cutting the pelt with scissors that glowed with a peculiar light, no longer turning around.
The speed she was working at was fast even to an amateurâs eye.
âSo thatâs how it is. Sheâs a pervert but her skills are trustworthy, so you can just leave the rest to her.â
âOh, right. Thanks.â
âThat leaves normal clothes. We should go for the ready-made goods for this one...
Viola licked her lips as her glasses flashed. | {
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ç§ã¯ä»æ¥ãããŒãŽããã®ãéšå±ã«ãäžè©±ã«ãªã£ãã | We got up.
I am happy to get a good nightâs sleep on a proper bed.
Margo-chan woke up about the same time as me.
She agreed to let me help prepare breakfast.
We made breakfast. Toast, salad, and soup
Margo-chan asked me to wake the other two up.
Wow, amazing snoring. Especially The Hand-san.
I woke the two up.
ãMorning, Mika-chanã(Gog)
ãUuunnn...! I slept wellã (The Hand)
ãGood morning! Breakfast is readyã (Mika)
ãOu... that so... then, Iâll go nowã(The Hand)
The three of us head to the table. Mika-chan is already seated.
ãMorning! Gog! ã(Margo)
ãMorning! Margoã (Gog)
I almost laughed. She said tsun, with her mouth, she actually said tsun.
The two who probably heard yesterdayâs conversation I had with the blue haired girl are desperately suppressing their laughter.
ãMa... Margo... your greeting... seriously... ha... your brother... haha... will get madã
ãMuuu~... Right now I am tsun! I am tsun at The Hand-san who doesnât react to my marriage proposal! ã
ãTh...That so... haha... is that soã
Gog-san is about to laugh. Isnât this a little too much teasing?
We talk while seated eating breakfast.
ãToday Mika-chan helped me!ã(Margo)
ãHee, Mika-chan made the toast?ã(Gog)
ãUun, the soup and salad. I made the toast.ã (Margo)
ãWow, amazing. Today I wonât need to worry about what we eat? Margoã (Gog)
ãWell, yeaã
ãOh, hey, Margo, donât lose to Mika as a woman, do your bestã
ãYea... a, tsunã
Itâs cute how she turns sideways and pouts her mouth when she says tsun.
Gog-san is resisting laughing while eating salad.
The Hand-san looks terribly amused.
We finish eating, close up the temporary home, and continue the survey.
So far in this journey, I talked a lot to Margo-chan yesterday, how about I talk to Gog-kun today?
ãGog-san, this morning you withstood laughing, right?ã
ãAh, you understand?ã
He replied with a grin.
ã... I heard the conversation yesterday. Even though eavesdropping is bad.ã
ãIt was totally audible. Canât be helped.ã
ãBut I was surprised. About the going in naked, I thought it was Margoâs hobbyã
ãWont Margo-san be unhappy to hear that?ã
ãI donât know about that. But, The Hand-san also heard yesterday, and he had a painful visage with a smiling mouth. Wasnât it good that he heard it? ã
ãGog-san, do you know of a maidens heart?ã
ãWhatâs that?ã
ãHaa....ã
No good, this person. Even though his face is good... I can only say the face is good...
On the other hand, Margo-chan is continuously going tsun. Natural airheads...
On the journey a treant appeared, and Gog-kun and Margo-chan took it down.
Then, surprisingly to me, The Hand-san was yoshiyoshi patting Margo-chanâs head.
And then, a conversation between them begins.
ãTsun... tsun... uuuu~!ã
ãHm? Why are you saying tsun? Then, I guess I should stop patting your headã
The Hand-san suddenly pulls his hand back from Margo-chanâs head.
ãAh....ã
ãBecause you only say tsun, I canât rub such a daughterâs head, canât be helped.ã
ãUuu... Iâll stop with the tsun...ã
Margo-chan, too simple minded! Obvious trick!
Ar-e, could it be, did I also look like a simple minded person to the others around me...
Speaking of which, when I was having conversations with Alim I get the feeling that the people around me were watching with grinning niyaniya expressions.
Hmmm, it would be nice to cherish such atmosphere before, even though I feel bad about the people that Iâve left behind... but I have already died. I guess, I donât have to worry about it.
Then The Hand-san comes out that he heard our conversation yesterday.
Margo-chanâs face became as bright red as a lobster and she was extremely flushed.
ãYes, settle down. I understand your feelings.ã
ãEe, then will you marry me?ã
ãNo, this and that are different. You and me are separated by years. You should marry someone closer to your age.ã
ãAge is unrelated! The Hand-san is good enough for me! Or could it be... The Hand-san you hate me? No way... do you perhaps prefer men? Is my charm that weak? ã
Gog-san bursts out laughing. That irritates me. Iâd like to give him a good swift kick.
Oho, The Hand-san and Margo-sanâs conversation continues.
ãIn any case, itâs not like youâre not important to me you know?
Youâre immensely important. And you are a girl, right? But, I see you as family. That is to say like a daughter. What father marries his daughter? Iâm sorry but right now... I cannot see myself... as your lover. Well... I do like you. Is that no good? ã
The Hand-san gently strokes Margo-chanâs head while saying very awkward lines.
Sure enough, Margo-chan melts. Her eyes look intoxicated.
Haa!? No way, am I also part of that group, am I also like that.......
The twoâs conversation comes to a stop.
ãUuuu.... I understand... but, I absolutely, absolutely will make you see me as a romantic partner! Just wait for itã
ãAaa, I understand, good luck with that.ã
Gog-kun apologizes, but he has a laughing face with tears in his eyes while doing so.
ãSorry, Mika-chan. Weâve shown you our family quarrels. Even though I protected it yesterday, we ended up showing you something strangeã
ãAbout that, ever since the middle of last year, about every two months this sort of thing happens, she pouts.ã
ãIs that so?ã
ãAh, thatâs right. Usually, this is how The Hand-san usually deals with this, you know? Well, I think it is pretty funny. But...The Hand-san completely refuses... He always dodges by saying that she is like a daughter, you see?ã
S... surprising, this guy is seriously paying attention.
ãAaah, The Hand-san is already ... and with his scary face, no woman will go after him. I think my sister is the only one that has ever gone after him... Furthermore, he has always always socialized with Gabaina-san, Iâve never seen him with a womanã
ãWhoâs Gabaina-san?ã
ãHe is an old friend of The Hand-san. Heâs also an A-ranker.ã
ãHee, thatâs amazing. By the way, Gog-san, do you have a girlfriend? ã
ãI do. Sheâs pretty cute...ã
ãAh, how nice.ã
And then, well, today there wasnât really anything else of interest.
I helped with lunch and supper, and I learned theãCookingãskill.
It might be good to increase my skills this way.
Today as well, I imposed on Margo-san and used her room. | {
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"missed_lines": 4,
"inserted_lines_src": 4,
"inserted_lines_trg": 4
} |
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ãŠãŠããèšã£ãŠã誀éåããŠããã | ã......What do you mean?ã
Luwin asked Inglis.
ãThe threat of the Hyrule Menace has indeed passed. However, the residents of the area around Lekrea are still starving and deprived of food due to the lootings Tiffany and her men did. If we let this situation stand, a large number of people may die of starvation. If we leave them be, what difference would it make even if we stopped the Hyrule Menace? In the end, the people will still suffer all the same, wonât they?ã
Luwin gasped when he heard such words from Inglis. Perhaps he had been held captive in Lekrea for so long he was not aware of what was happening in the surrounding area.
ãT-, true enough, if we are stricken with such a situation...then itâs not something that can be overlooked......When did this happen? Did you see it firsthand?ã
ãItâs happening right now. Weâve seen a lot of people suffering from lack of food on our way here!ã
ãThatâs true. I came with them. We gotta do something about it fast, or else...ã
Lahti confirmed Rafinhaâs words.
ãHngh......I see...No, isnât that all the more reason His Highness Lahti should head to the Royal Capital?! We ask His Majesty the King to direct some food to this area! They can send some from military garrisons on the border! It should be easier to process this proposal with the Prince in the Royal Capital!ã
ãDo you think everything will resolve as smoothly? Iâm afraid we are in a time-sensitive situation.ã
ãBut, with no source of food in the area, what else can we do but to bring it in from somewhere else? Either way, if we do our best...ã
ãNo, we do have a source of food, you know? Look...ã
Inglis pointed to the tail of the Dragon God down in the hole. That brought the conversation back to the beginning.
ã!!! A-, are you saying weâre going to kill it and distribute it to the people as food?!ã
ãI am. Isnât that the fastest solution we have?ã
Inglis directed a smile to Luwin.
If it wasnât for this plan, she wouldnât have let Tiffany, Hallim, and the rest of their group bring the town of Lekrea and all the food they had looted with them so willy nilly. Recapturing the food would have been imperative.
However, that would have made the negotiation way more complicated, and the time they would need to bring out all the food would be just as long as well. Tiffany could have also woken up and denied the negotiation, too.
Her appearance was the very picture of a lovely and pure maiden, but her mind was cunning and calculating. As a Hyrule Menace, she had a fundamentally different nature from Eris and Ripple who were beautiful both inside and out.
It was very possible for Tiffany to see through Inglisâ need to secure food for the people who were stricken with famine and consequently imposed some troublesome terms, she could also sense some kind of goal that her predecessor, Abel, had if she saw the Dragon God and refused to leave the premise quietly.
If that had happened, Inglis would be forced to finish her off completely, but if she did that, she would have run out of energy and wouldnât be able to deal with the Dragon God should the creature start to make a move out of nowhere.
Hence, the best thing to do back then was to negotiate with Hallim, who seemed to have the best interest for his mistress at heart, whilst the troublesome Tiffany was out cold and get rid of their group as soon as possible.
And then, Inglis would seek the food supply for the people from the Dragon God instead of taking back the rest of the food that was left on Lekrea. That way, she could fight the dragon without Tiffany getting in her way and eat the dragon meat that was rumored to be oh-so-delicious. When Inglis proposed the negotiation, she had already made such a plan.
In the end, the Dragon God didnât make any movement but remained inert, and since half a day had passed, Inglisâ fatigue was recovering as well. A good nightâs sleep and she would be at her best condition. It was a needless anticipation, sure, but in hindsight, she believed she had made the right call at the time.
ãWe secure the food here and solve the shortage of food for the people by ourselves. The more the people see Lahti helping them, the more fame he will accumulate, no? I said that it is too early for Lahti to go to the Royal Capital, after all, we still have one more big task to tackle.ã
The credit and the fame that came with it must all be handed to Lahti. It would be a huge problem to have such a burdensome thing handed to Inglis.
ãI-, I see......! So this is what you meant. I-, Iâm sorry......I spoke all that without knowing how far youâve thought it out, Iâm asking for your forgiveness from the bottom of my heart.ã
Luwin bowed his head deeply as though he just saw Inglis under a new light. Rafinha, however, looked even more delighted than before, her eyes sparkling even brighter.
ãArenât you brilliant! Way to go, Glis! So you didnât get blinded by the good food in front of your eyes! Good girl, good girl!ã
She hugged Inglis and stroked her head. It was nice that she appreciated her, but...
ãWait a minute, Rani. Why did you react like that just now? I thought you knew this is what I meant when you decided to go along with me?ã
ã......Heh? We~ll, logic doesnât always apply to you when youâre hungry, Glis, and......my stomach is just as empty, so...Eheheã
Rafinha stuck her tongue out and laughed shyly. She clearly dodged the question, but in the eyes of a grandparent, she was just so adorable Inglis was ready to forgive her for everything.
ã......ã
Inglis didnât say further and turned to Leone and Liselotte.
ãAmazing! Thatâs good thinking!ã
ãIt is amazing indeed!ã
ã............ã
Apparently, they didnât get the message too the first time she said it. Well, isnât that sad.
Just how do they think of me, usually...
ã......Honestly! Anyway, thatâs our plan, so please take care of the costume.ã
ãGot that! Now Iâm more motivated than ever!ã
ãIâm helping too! Please let me help! I want to be of use for everyone!ã
ãThanks, Pullum. Letâs do this right away, then!!ã
ãWell, I guess I will go and eat a fill before the fight then!ã
There was some small amount of foodstuff left in the Flygear Carrier. Since they would be acquiring a large amount of God Dragon meat anyway, Inglis might as well consume the rest of the food they had left. She wouldnât be able to exert the power she usually could if she was too hungry to do it.
ãAh, thatâs not fair, Glis! Iâm starving here too! You canât hog all the food for yourself!ã
ãBut, Rani, you should hurry up with the clothes...ã
ãIf Iâm hungry, my hands will be shaking too much to sew a good costume! I canât possibly make something embarrassing since youâll be wearing it, Glis! So I need to eat a fill too!ã
ãAhaha. I will start ahead then, you can have your meal first, Rafinha.ã
ãOkay! Thanks. I leave it to you, Pullum.ã
ãThen I will...ã
ããLeone, please prepare the food!ãã
Inglis and Rafinha asked simultaneously with a huge smile on their faces.
ãHonestly, you two are quick to ask it to me......ã
ããBut it tastes more delicious when you make it, Leone.ãã
ãWell, itâs nice that you compliment me, but...fine, I get it. Just give me a minute.ã
Seeing Inglis and the other girls made Luwin feel unsure again of their plan and he asked Lahti for confirmation.
ãPrince Lahti......is it really okay to leave everything to these girls? They look too much like any normal girl......I commend them for their lovely appearance, but Iâm not too sure those frail-looking girls to be able to face such a gigantic monster...ã
ãMm? Itâs fine. You can only say those words right now, you see...ã
ãHuh......? What do you mean?ã
ãOnce you see them eat their meal, first, your impression of their appearance will go to oblivion. Once you see them fight, next itâs your impression of how frail-looking they are. The one who drove away the enemy Hyrule Menace was mostly Inglis on her own, yâknow? If she couldnât handle that dragon, then no one in this kingdom can.ã
ãI-, is she that strong?ã
When Luwin gulped...
ãHey, Lahti, I donât know what youâre talking about over there, but I didnât forget the talk we had before we reached Lekrea, okay! Thereâs nothing to do before the meal is ready, so nowâs the perfect timing! You should come here and say it!ã
The talk they had before they reached Lekrea... Lahti had said that he would not hesitate to become a King and use his newfound authority to protect Pullum, whose standing was jeopardized because of her brother. Hallim betrayed her by choosing to follow after Tiffany the Hyrule Menace instead of their Kingdom.
When Rafinha, Leone, and Liselotte heard about his determination, they were excited about the idea of him saving Pullum by proposing to her, and now, Rafinha egged him to do just that.
ãDonât be stupid! Nowâs not the time at all! We gotta clean everything up first, everything! And donât use such an important event as a way to kill time before your meal is ready!!ã
ãEeeehh~ You promised!ã
ãI promised nothing!ã
ãWhat are you talking about? Sounds fun.ã
Pullum then became interested in the conversation.
ãUwaaahhhitâsnothingnothingââ! You gotta hurry up and finish the costume for Inglis! Weâre in a hurry!ã
Lahti hurriedly dodged the question in a flurry of words. | {
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ãšãŠãããããã£ãã§ã ããããšã | Professionally, I try to make sense often of things that don't make much sense themselves.
So my father might not understand what it is that I do for a living.
His part of my ancestry has been farmers.
He's part of this ethnic minority called the Pontic Greeks.
They lived in Asia Minor and fled to Greece after a genocide about a hundred years ago.
And ever since that, migration has somewhat been a theme in my family.
My father moved to Germany, studied there and married, and as a result, I now have this half-German brain, with all the analytical thinking and that slightly dorky demeanor that come with that.
And of course it meant that I was a foreigner in both countries, and that of course made it pretty easy for me to migrate as well, in good family tradition, if you like.
But of course, most journeys that we undertake from day to day are within a city.
And, especially if you know the city, getting from A to B may seem pretty obvious, right?
But the question is, why is it obvious?
How do we know where we're going?
So I washed up on a Dublin ferry port about 12 years ago, a professional foreigner, if you like, and I'm sure you've all had this experience before, yeah?
You arrive in a new city, and your brain is trying to make sense of this new place.
Once you find your base, your home, you start to build this cognitive map of your environment.
It's essentially this virtual map that only exists in your brain.
All animal species do it, even though we all use slightly different tools.
Us humans, of course, we don't move around marking our territory by scent, like dogs.
We don't run around emitting ultrasonic squeaks, like bats.
We just don't do that, although a night in the Temple Bar district can get pretty wild. No, we do two important things to make a place our own.
First, we move along linear routes.
Typically, we find a main street, and this main street becomes a linear strip map in our minds.
But our mind keeps it pretty simple, yeah?
Every street is generally perceived as a straight line, and we kind of ignore the little twists and turns that the streets make.
When we do, however, make a turn into a side street, our mind tends to adjust that turn to a 90-degree angle.
This of course makes for some funny moments when you're in some old city layout that follows some sort of circular city logic, yeah?
Maybe you've had that experience as well.
Let's say you're on some spot on a side street that projects from a main cathedral square, and you want to get to another point on a side street just like that.
The cognitive map in your mind may tell you, "Aris, go back to the main cathedral square, take a 90-degree turn and walk down that other side street."
But somehow you feel adventurous that day, and you suddenly discover that the two spots were actually only a single building apart.
Now, I don't know about you, but I always feel like I find this wormhole or this inter-dimensional portal. So we move along linear routes and our mind straightens streets and perceives turns as 90-degree angles.
The second thing that we do to make a place our own is we attach meaning and emotions to the things that we see along those lines.
If you go to the Irish countryside and you ask an old lady for directions, brace yourself for some elaborate Irish storytelling about all the landmarks, yeah?
She'll tell you the pub where her sister used to work, and "... go past that church where I got married," that kind of thing.
So we fill our cognitive maps with these markers of meaning.
What's more, we abstract repeat patterns and recognize them.
We recognize them by the experiences and we abstract them into symbols.
And of course, we're all capable of understanding these symbols.
What's more, we're all capable of understanding the cognitive maps, and you are all capable of creating these cognitive maps yourselves.
So next time, when you want to tell your friend how to get to your place, you grab a beermat, grab a napkin, and you just observe yourself create this awesome piece of communication design.
It's got straight lines.
It's got 90-degree corners.
You might add little symbols along the way.
And when you look at what you've just drawn, you realize it does not resemble a street map.
If you were to put an actual street map on top of what you've just drawn, you'd realize your streets and the distances -- they'd be way off.
No, what you've just drawn is more like a diagram or a schematic.
It's a visual construct of lines, dots, letters, designed in the language of our brains.
So it's no big surprise that the big information-design icon of the last century -- the pinnacle of showing everybody how to get from A to B, the London Underground map -- was not designed by a cartographer or a city planner; it was designed by an engineering draftsman.
In the 1930s, Harry Beck applied the principles of schematic diagram design and changed the way public transport maps are designed forever.
Now the very key to the success of this map is in the omission of less important information and in the extreme simplification.
So, straightened streets, corners of 90 and 45 degrees, but also the extreme geographic distortion in that map.
If you were to look at the actual locations of these stations, you'd see they're very different.
But this is all for the clarity of the public Tube map.
If you, say, wanted to get from Regent's Park station to Great Portland Street, the Tube map would tell you: take the Tube, go to Baker Street, change over, take another Tube.
Of course, what you don't know is that the two stations are only about a hundred meters apart.
Now we've reached the subject of public transport, and public transport here in Dublin is a somewhat touchy subject. For everybody who does not know the public transport here in Dublin, essentially, we have this system of local buses that grew with the city.
For every outskirt that was added, there was another bus route added, running from the outskirt all the way to the city center.
And as these local buses approach the city center, they all run side by side and converge in pretty much one main street.
So when I stepped off the boat 12 years ago, I tried to make sense of that.
Because exploring a city on foot only gets you so far.
But when you explore a foreign and new public transport system, you will build a cognitive map in your mind in pretty much the same way.
Typically, you choose yourself a rapid transport route, and in your mind, this route is perceived as a straight line.
And like a pearl necklace, all the stations and stops are nicely and neatly aligned along the line.
And only then you start to discover some local bus routes that would fill in the gaps, and that allow for those wormhole, inter-dimensional portal shortcuts.
So I tried to make sense, and when I arrived, that would help me crack this system and understand it, and I found those brochures.
They were not geographically distorted.
They had a lot of omission of information, but unfortunately, the wrong information. Say, in the city center -- there were never actually any lines that showed the routes.
There are actually not even any stations with names.
Now, the maps of Dublin transport have gotten better, and after I finished the project, they got a good bit better, but still no station names, still no routes.
So, being naive, and being half-German, I decided, "Aris, why don't you build your own map?"
So that's what I did.
I researched how each and every bus route moved through the city, nice and logical, every bus route a separate line.
I plotted it into my own map of Dublin, and in the city center ...
I got a nice spaghetti plate. Now, this is a bit of a mess, "You're going to apply the rules of schematic design," cleaning up the corridors, widening the streets where there were loads of buses and making the streets at straight, 90-degree corners, 45-degree corners And I built this city center bus map of the system, how it was five years ago.
I'll zoom in again so that you get the full impact of the quays and Westmoreland Street.
Now I can proudly say -- I can proudly say, as a public transport map, this diagram is an utter failure. Except, probably, in one aspect: I now had a great visual representation of just how clogged up and overrun the city center really was. Now, call me old-fashioned, but I think a public transport route map should have lines, because that's what they are, yeah?
They're little pieces of string that wrap their way through the city center or through the city.
If you will, the Greek guy inside of me feels if I don't get a line, it's like entering the labyrinth of the Minotaur So the outcome of my academic research, loads of questionnaires, case studies and looking at a lot of maps, was that a lot of the problems and shortcomings of the public transport system here in Dublin was the lack of a coherent public transport map -- a simplified, coherent public transport map --
because I think this is the crucial step to understanding a public transport network on a physical level, but it's also the crucial step to make a public transport network mappable on a visual level.
So I teamed up with a gentleman called James Leahy, a civil engineer and a recent master's graduate of the Sustainable Development program at DIT, and together we drafted the simplified model network, which I could then go ahead and visualize.
So here's what we did.
We distributed these rapid-transport corridors throughout the city center, and extended them into the outskirts.
Rapid, because we wanted them to be served by rapid-transport vehicles.
They would get exclusive road use, where possible, and it would be high-quantity, high-quality transport.
James wanted to use bus rapid transport for that, rather than light rail.
For me, it was important that the vehicles that would run on those rapid transport corridors would be visibly distinguishable from local buses on the street.
Now we could take out all the local buses that ran alongside those rapid transport means.
Any gaps that appeared in the outskirts were filled again.
So, in other words, if there was a street in an outskirt where there had been a bus, we put a bus back in, only now these buses wouldn't run all the way to the city center, but connect to the nearest rapid-transport mode, one of these thick lines over there.
So the rest was merely a couple of months of work, and a couple of fights with my girlfriend, of our place constantly being clogged up with maps, and the outcome, one of the outcomes, was this map of the Greater Dublin area.
I'll zoom in a little bit.
This map only shows the rapid transport connections, no local bus, very much in the "metro map" style that was so successful in London, and that since has been exported to so many other major cities, and therefore is the language that we should use for public transport maps.
What's also important is, with a simplified network like this, it now would become possible for me to tackle the ultimate challenge and make a public transport map for the city center, one where I wouldn't just show rapid transport connections, but also all the local bus routes, streets and the likes, and this is what a map like this could look like.
I'll zoom in a little bit.
so rapid transport, bus, DART, tram and the likes.
Each individual route is represented by a separate line.
The map shows each and every station, each and every station name, and I'm also displaying side streets.
In fact, most of the side streets even with their name, and for good measure, also a couple of landmarks, some of them signified by little symbols, others by these isometric three-dimensional bird's-eye-view drawings.
The map is relatively small in overall size, so something that you could still hold as a fold-out map or display in a reasonably-sized display box on a bus shelter.
I think it tries to be the best balance between actual representation and simplification -- the language of way-finding in our brain.
So, straightened lines, cleaned-up corners, and of course, that very, very important geographic distortion that makes public transport maps possible.
If you, for example, have a look at the two main corridors that run through the city -- the yellow and orange one over here -- this is how they look in an actual, accurate street map, and this is how they would look in my distorted, simplified public transport map.
So for a successful public transport map, we should not stick to accurate representation, but design them in the way our brains work.
The reactions I got were tremendous, it was really good to see.
And of course, for my own self, I was very happy to see that my folks in Germany and Greece finally have an idea what I do for a living.
Thank you. | {
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ããããšãããããŸãã | Everything has motion, he claims, even a body as paralyzed as his own.
This man is my father.
Three years ago, when I found out that my father had suffered a severe stroke in his brain stem, I walked into his room in the ICU at the Montreal Neurological Institute and found him lying deathly still, tethered to a breathing machine.
Paralysis had closed over his body slowly, beginning in his toes, then legs, torso, fingers and arms.
It made its way up his neck, cutting off his ability to breathe, and stopped just beneath the eyes.
He never lost consciousness.
Rather, he watched from within as his body shut down, limb by limb, muscle by muscle.
In that ICU room, I walked up to my father's body, and with a quivering voice and through tears, I began reciting the alphabet.
A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K.
At K, he blinked his eyes.
I began again.
A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I.
He blinked again at the letter I, then at T, then at R, and A: Kitra.
He said "Kitra, my beauty, don't cry.
This is a blessing."
There was no audible voice, but my father called out my name powerfully.
Just 72 hours after his stroke, he had already embraced the totality of his condition.
Despite his extreme physical state, he was completely present with me, guiding, nurturing, and being my father as much if not more than ever before.
Locked-in syndrome is many people's worst nightmare.
In French, it's sometimes called "maladie de l'emmuré vivant."
Literally, "walled-in-alive disease."
For many people, perhaps most, paralysis is an unspeakable horror, but my father's experience losing every system of his body was not an experience of feeling trapped, but rather of turning the psyche inwards, dimming down the external chatter, facing the recesses of his own mind, and in that place, falling in love with life and body anew.
As a rabbi and spiritual man dangling between mind and body, life and death, the paralysis opened up a new awareness for him.
He realized he no longer needed to look beyond the corporeal world in order to find the divine.
"Paradise is in this body.
It's in this world," he said.
I slept by my father's side for the first four months, to his every discomfort, understanding the deep human psychological fear of not being able to call out for help.
My mother, sisters, brother and I, we surrounded him in a cocoon of healing.
We became his mouthpiece, spending hours each day reciting the alphabet as he whispered back sermons and poetry with blinks of his eye.
His room, it became our temple of healing. His bedside became a site for those seeking advice and spiritual counsel, and through us, my father was able to speak and uplift, letter by letter, blink by blink.
Everything in our world became slow and tender as the din, drama and death of the hospital ward faded into the background.
I want to read to you one of the first things that we transcribed in the week following the stroke.
He composed a letter, addressing his synagogue congregation, and ended it with the following lines: "When my nape exploded, I entered another dimension: inchoate, sub-planetary, protozoan.
Universes are opened and closed continually.
There are many when low, who stop growing.
Last week, I was brought so low, but I felt the hand of my father around me, and my father brought me back."
When we weren't his voice, we were his legs and arms.
I moved them like I know I would have wanted my own arms and legs to be moved were they still for all the hours of the day.
I remember I'd hold his fingers near my face, bending each joint to keep it soft and limber.
I'd ask him again and again to visualize the motion, to watch from within as the finger curled and extended, and to move along with it in his mind.
Then, one day, from the corner of my eye, I saw his body slither like a snake, an involuntary spasm passing through the course of his limbs.
At first, I thought it was my own hallucination, having spent so much time tending to this one body, so desperate to see anything react on its own.
But he told me he felt tingles, just beneath the surface of the skin.
The following week, he began ever so slightly to show muscle resistance.
Connections were being made.
Body was slowly and gently reawakening, limb by limb, muscle by muscle, twitch by twitch.
As a documentary photographer, each of his first movements like a mother with her newborn.
I photographed him taking his first unaided breath, the celebratory moment after he showed muscle resistance for the very first time, the new adapted technologies that allowed him to gain more and more independence.
I photographed the care and the love that surrounded him.
But my photographs only told the outside story of a man lying in a hospital bed attached to a breathing machine.
I wasn't able to portray his story from within, and so I began to search for a new visual language, one which strived to express the ephemeral quality of his spiritual experience.
Finally, I want to share with you a video from a series that I've been working on that tries to express the slow, in-between existence that my father has experienced.
As he began to regain his ability to breathe, I started recording his thoughts, and so the voice that you hear in this video is his voice.
Ronnie Cahana: You have to believe you're paralyzed to play the part of a quadriplegic.
I don't.
In my mind, and in my dreams every night I Chagall-man float over the city twirl and swirl with my toes kissing the floor.
I know nothing about the statement of man without motion.
Everything has motion.
The heart pumps.
The body heaves.
The mouth moves.
We never stagnate.
Life triumphs up and down.
Kitra Cahana: For most of us, our muscles begin to twitch and move long before we are conscious, but my father tells me his privilege is living on the far periphery of the human experience.
Like an astronaut who sees a perspective he wonders and watches as he takes his first breaths and dreams about crawling back home.
So begins life at 57, he says.
A toddler has no attitude in its being, but a man insists on his world every day.
Few of us will ever have to face physical limitations to the degree that my father has, but we will all have moments of paralysis in our lives.
I know I frequently confront walls that feel completely unscalable, but my father insists that there are no dead ends.
Instead, he invites me into his space of co-healing to give the very best of myself, and for him to give the very best of himself to me.
Paralysis was an opening for him.
It was an opportunity to emerge, to rekindle life force, to sit still long enough with himself so as to fall in love with the full continuum of creation.
Today, my father is no longer locked in.
He moves his neck with ease, has had his feeding peg removed, breathes with his own lungs, speaks slowly with his own quiet voice, and works every day to gain more movement in his paralyzed body.
But the work will never be finished.
As he says, "I'm living in a broken world, and there is holy work to do."
Thank you. | {
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å¶çŽã®ããã€ãã¯ãéå»ã®è² ã®éºç£ãšèããã°ç解ã§ãããããããããã§ãåæ€èšã®äœå°ã倧ãã«ããããå
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ããŽã£ããã»ã¢ãŒãŽã£ã³ã°(David Irving)ããªãŒã¹ããªã¢ã§é®æãããããšãããã圌ã¯ååæã®å³æžé€šã§ãé®æã®åå ãšãªã£ã2åã®èªèãèŠã€ããã®ã ïŒãã«ãªã³ã§ã¯ãããã³ãŒã¹ãã®èšå¿µç¢ãžã®åæ¶ã倧å€å¿é
ãããŠãããäœå®¶ã§ããã¢ã¡ãªã«ã®å»ºç¯å®¶ããŒã¿ãŒã»ã¢ã€ãŒã³ãã³(Peter Eisenmann)ã¯ãèªåã®äœåã«å¯ŸããŠè¡ãããèšåãè¡åãå¯å€§ã«åãæ¢ããŠãããã | In the prison library, however, Irving found two of the books he had written that had led to his arrest! In Berlin, there is much concern about the possible desecration of the Holocaust Memorial, although its author, the American architect Peter Eisenmann, takes a relaxed view of what is said and done about his creation. | {
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ãã¯ã? ããã¯ããš? ã¢ã³ããã?ã | âAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I donât want to live in another world anymore! Please let me go home! Aion is dangerous!â
When I woke up in the morning, I saw a skeleton on the other side of the shutters, which were grid-like and I could see the other side.
I screamed, but the scream seemed to clear my head and calm me down a bit.
âIf skeletons and ghosts are real, then the monsters are real too. If they were real, wouldnât that mean....... this world is scary?â
I tilt my head.
The skeleton tilts their head as well. What is this?
âIndeed. Skeletons, ghosts. This is another world, and there are monsters, and there are elves, in other words, skeletons and ghosts are not strange at all.â
After regaining my composure, I calmly observe the skeleton in front of the shutters.
A body of only bones. How is it moving? Is it witchcraft, or is this magic too?
An apron hanging from around the collarbone and shoulder blades. An apron?
Bone-only hands push a cleaning polisher that whines and growls. ...... wait? By pushing the polisher?
âUhhm.......? Well, I may be wrong, but are you cleaning the ...... carpet?â
The skeleton nodded in response to my squeezed-out question.
âCome to think of it, I thought the Aion Mall Otherworld Store was cleaned down to the unused areas! Thank you for cleaning up! I didnât know you could understand me!â
A skeleton that bows its head in thanks to me. The skeleton turns his skull down.
He thinks the conversation is over, and with a whirring sound, he pushes the cleaning polisher.
Itâs all about cleaning up before the Aion Mall opens.
âThatâs a hard-working skeleton! Itâ ...... is out of human beings! I mean, itâs a skeleton! Wait a minute. How can one of those skeletons be the only one to clean up this spacious Aion Mall Otherworldly Store? I donât know whether to call it one person or a whole group.â
Once Iâve stood up, I sit down on the bed.
I slumped down and looked up at the ceiling, which I already familiarized myself with.
As the manager of the Aion Mall Otherworldly Store.
It appears that there are some non-humans working there.
âAaaaah! Whatâs going on with the personnel plan between the former manager and Aion HQ! Why arenât they in the documents! Ioriiiiiiiiiii!â
I rolled around on the bed for a while, shouting.
I quickly got dressed and left the live-in space.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, did my hair, got ready, and went to question Chloe.
âWhat, Naoya didnât know? Skeletons do cleaning and security, and ghosts do night watch, you know?â
â I questioned the former manager, and she simply said, as if it were a natural thing! Whatâs going on here!â
âWhatâs going on you say ......? Donât tell me, you wanted to know the difference by stripping me naked and groping my body, saying things like, [Thereâs no difference between the skeleton and the skeleton inside here]!â
âHell no! What kind of twisted shit is running in your head? I donât want to know what an elfâs skeleton looks like. ...... I wonder if those sharp pointed ears are cartilage?â (as if to say her ears is only to support her brain to not fall off her head)
âNo, no, no, no, please donât, Naoya! Elven ears are only to be touched by those who love them dearly! Well, Naoya and I have only known each other for three days, and we are manager and employee, so to speak, so if you want to touch me, I canât refuse you.â
âHey Chloe, do we have any other employees besides the skeletons and ghosts? As the manager, I need to know.â
I asked her not caring about the wriggling Chloe.
Itâs been three days since Iâve been a manager and Iâm embarrassed that there are some employees that I donât know.
I mean, I donât know if you call skeletons and ghosts employees or not.
â Ah, I havenât introduced them. Good timing, then letâs introduce everyone!â
â...... everyone?â
Leaving me puzzled, Chloe rushes toward the store.
I wait alone in front of the store entrance in the early morning, thinking how fast she is even though she is wearing metal armor.
The high-pitched sound must be Chloeâs finger whistle. Skeletons canât make that sound.
After waiting for a while, I heard a clattering sound.
I thought it was the sound of armor and wondered if Chloe had returned, so I turned my attention to the trail between the store and the parking lot.
There were a bunch of skeletons.
âThere are too many of them! Aion Mallâs Otherworldly Store is a dungeon full of undead!â
âSorry, Naoya, the ghosts canât go outside because the sunlight is too much for them.â
âWell duh! But skeletons are fine! Wait, wait, wait! Ghosts canât go outside either! Aion is in trouble. Aion that makes you work even if you die is dangerous.â
No wonder I felt eyes and presence in the store at night when no one was supposed to be there.
Iâm ashamed to admit that I was a bit scared last night.
âNo, we are the ones asking them to let us work for them.â
â...... The hell? You talked? The skeleton?â
Among the crowd of skeletons among the skeletons, there is one â one? Only one, a skeleton on an armored skeleton horse.
A voice came from a great-looking skeleton with a Mohawk-like decorated helmet, gaudy armor, and a cloak.
âFufufu...you silly. I am not a skeleton. Heave-ho.â
A woman came down from the skeleton horse.
She was hidden behind the figure of a great-looking skeleton and could not be seen.
She was wearing a black robe with blue ornaments.
She looked like a magician with the wooden staff in her hand.
The necklace around her neck was probably a letter or symbol of some kind.
Also, herâs are big. They are not as big as Ioriâs, but they are big.
When I forcibly looked away, my eyes met with blue eyes.
The way the light hits her long black hair, it seems to have a bluish tint to it.
âNice to meet you. My name is Anna-Maria. Please call me Anna.â
âAh, yes. Nice to meet you, Anna. Iâm Naoya, the new manager of the Aion Mall Otherworld Store. I apologize for the delay in greeting you.â
âNo, no, I apologize for that too. Iâve been holed up in the basement for a while now and havenât noticed.â
Anna smiles gently and softly.
You can feel the reserve and gentleness of an adult woman.
The basement. Come to think of it, there are several rooms beyond the boiler room in the basement whose purpose is not indicated on the floor plan.
âAh, I see! But still, thank goodness, I thought the employees were all skeletons and ghosts and me and Chloe were the only human beings! Well, Chloe is an elf though!â
âUm... Naoya-san, I...â
Anna stares at me, scratching her head in embarrassment, and mumbles something difficult to say.
I have a bad feeling about this.
Anna appeared with a group of skeletons, or rather, she rode behind a guy who looked like the leader of the skeletons.
The skeletons are still waiting behind her.
I donât want to hear it.
I donât want to hear it, but Anna and the skeletons are employees of my company, and I am the manager.
I made up my mind to ask them.
âCan I help you? Well, since you look like that, Anna, youâre human, arenât you?â
âUh, ...... something like ......, ex-human, I guess?â
âAaahhh! Former! A former human being! That means you quit being human, didnât you?â
âI used to be human, and now Iâm a Lich. Ghost and these kids are under my command.â
âOOOOO! I thought I had finally found someone decent! A non-human! A high-ranking undead is there!â
Anna-san doesnât lose her smile even when she sees me screaming.
âFufu. Naoya-san, this shop is guarded and cleaned by the ghosts and these kids. Theyâre undead, so they donât get tired and donât need sleep. In addition...â
â......in addition?â
âIâm the only one who gets paid.â
âI get it. I get it. Aion will be very happy to hire a team of -hour-a-day workers for the equivalent of one personâs salary!â
Anna giggles at my reaction.
She seems more reasonable than Chloe. Sheâs undead, though. Sheâs a Lich and seems to be the head of the Undead.
âSigh ......Well, the matter is settled over here, I have no say in the matter. In fact, Iâm the manager and in charge, so itâs nice for me too.â
Yes, there are a lot of advantages if you donât mind working with the undead.
So we need a large number of people for both security and cleaning, but I heard that Anna will take care of everything for one personâs labor cost.
Somehow I convinced myself. Iâll go where the wind is blowing.
âAll right. Itâs okay, itâs okay, itâs okay, me. Iâm rather OK with all the benefits. Anna, I look forward to working with you in the future.â
âYes, my pleasure.â
âI just have one thing Iâd like to humbly ask you to do for me: ......â
âWhat is it?â
â...... to keep ghosts and skeletons away from me at night?â
I bowed deeply.
I-itâs not like Iâm scared or anything! Iâm glad it was after I went to the restroom, I didnât think I would have chickened out before or anything!
âFufu, I understand, Naoya-san. Iâll tell everyone.â
Then Anna laughed.
Sheâs aLich, but she seems kind and more sane than Chloe. ......
âNaoya, are you done with the greetings? Thereâs one more person.â
âOh, so she hasnât greeted him yet, either?â
âWut? Err, Chloe? Anna-san?â | {
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I was a member of the National Militaryâs barrier monitoring forceâs Alpha Squad, known as Alpha .
A year ago, a mysterious sphere known as âbarrierâ made its sudden entrance into the world, and my mission as a member of this squad was to investigate and eradicate it if possible.
Since the barriers were indestructible even with nuclear weapons, it was practically a leisurely post, and I myself had nothing to do but train daily.
I hadnât been in excellent form since this morning, though. Although I couldnât pinpoint where my feelings originated from, I kept experiencing a tingling sensation in some part of my head.
And the source of that sensation was caused by the barrier itself.
The ominous wall, comprised of trees and concrete, was impervious to the latest explosives, and the mist billowing out from the wall was so dense that not even a ray of light could penetrate it. Not only that, even the ground was extremely muddy on closer approach.
The higher-ups designated it as âX-Jâ and, of course, assigned the barrier monitoring unit with investigating this revolting phenomenon.
On further reflection, I probably should have opted out of the investigation squad by any means necessary.
âââââ
âWhat are you doing, Alpha ? Stay alert and vigilant.â
âI simply thought we have landed in a very unorthodox place.â
âWell, I can understand why you would feel that way...â
After entering the dungeon, the first thing my eyes registered was a mist so thick that only two meters could be seen ahead. Although it was good that I can faintly glimpse my footsteps, if a lack of attention was exercised, my companions will be lost in no time.
âThe ground... appears to be made of the same substance as the outer walls...â
I inspected the footing after hearing Alpha âs voice, and it looked to be constructed of the same substance. However, there were some minor irregularities that may cause someone to trip if they panicked.
âAlpha , it seems that all communication devices and GPS are ineffective in this dungeon.â
âThere shouldnât exist a ceiling here but... Just what kind of technology is this that can have a ceiling at such a place?â
As Alpha reported back to the captain, I inspected the GPS in my hand and confirmed that it was indeed displaying an error status.
âIn addition, there are some bizarre noises coming from the surrounding area.â
âYeah, Iâm hearing... childrenâs voices and dogs, maybe? In all likelihood, I doubt there would be any normal children in a place like this.â
Upon receiving reports from Alpha and Alpha , I listened attentively, and sure enough, the occasional âKyahahaha!â and âAohhhh!â that was similar to the howling of a dog can be heard.
âAnd the only way forward is going through the swamp.â
The captain noticed something as he stooped down at a distance of only a few feet between us.
The only decent foothold proved to be around the entrance apparently, while the rest of the area was a swamp.
The captain muttered, âThis is a labyrinth, but itâs more like a dungeon in a video game...â
Even I can only surmise so based on the restricted number of people at the entrance and the conditions inside.
âWell, it doesnât matter. Regardless of the situation, in order for us to leave this place, we have to be at least 1km away from the entrance. Weâll proceed with the utmost caution.â
And so we all exchanged nods with each other as we moved into the swamp, densely clustered together.
Has it been half an hour already?
Navigating the swamp in the mist while retaining a sense of alertness proved to be an unforeseeably arduous and nerve-wracking endeavor.
The swamp may suddenly deepen without warning, and even if we were vigilant, we could slip into the depths and drown. Such a situation could have arisen if we had been careless.
Furthermore, not only did the GPS but also the compass malfunction in this environment. Under normal circumstances, we should have been able to reach a distance of roughly one kilometer with ease, but it would likely be better to have crossed only half that distance for us.
And now, what distressed me the most was...
âAre you okay, Alpha 3?â
âIâm fine, Alpha 2, just a slight headache.â
After entering the labyrinth, the tingling sensation escalated.
It was as if a reaction to something lurking in the labyrinth was underway.
âSorry for all of this, Alpha 3, but you should see a doctor at once when we get out.â
âYes...â
The moment I answered the captainâs words, the itching in my head swiftly shifted to discomfort, and with the sound of something slicing through the air, the captainâs head shot off before my eyes.
âHuh...?â
âWhat...â âEh...?â âAh...?â â!?â
There was a momentary pause that engulfed all members of the squad.
Then the pause resumed as the captainâs head crashed into the swamp and his body collapsed with a resounding splash, only to be accompanied by screeching all around the area the next instant. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 0,
"inserted_lines_src": 1,
"inserted_lines_trg": 3
} |
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¥ãã®ã ã£ãã | That mountain was located near the second district and wasnât that high, however, the road was rough and uneven. In order to rescue Moka, the team headed to the Demon King Mansion on the other side of the mountain.
IT was around in the morning and the team left the city about an hour ago. Since they used their magic horses, they covered quite a bit of distance but couldnât see the Demon King Mansion yet.
Only rocks were in their line of sight.
The student council members thought about certain something as they rode their horses.
They thought about the spellãDark Waveãused by Grisfon just a while ago. They had no recollection of such a spell but they did see a similar thing.
That was a mysterious technique that Seiya used on the adventurers in the guild.
At that time, Seiya just waved his finger and their spells disappeared without a trace. That sight closely resembled the sight of Grisfon erasing Selenaâs magic bullets.
At that time, Selena remembered one more thing. Back then, Seiya used an unknown technique to erase the ear of a suspicious person that tailed them from the bar.
Back then, Seiya erased his ear with a wave of his finger and even managed to restore it after that.
Seiya erasing the manâs left ear resembled him erasing the spells of the adventurers. A hypothesis was born inside of Selenaâs head.
Maybe that spell, ãDark Waveã, is a spell capable of completely erasing the target.
Once she arrived at that point, she couldnât restrain herself anymore.
Selena had her horse come close to Seiya, who was currently riding in the lead, to ask. Seeing her suddenly appearing next to him, Seiya asked with a wondering face.
ãWhatâs wrong?ã
ãHey,ãDark Waveã, what is it?ã
Seiyaâs expression froze for a moment. However, in the next moment, he made a face as if he decided on something and had his horse decelerate.
Upon him slowing down, the rest of the team followed suit. Seiya got down from his horse saying that it was time for a break.
Seeing Seiya getting down from his horse, the rest got down too.
Seiya proceeded to the nearest clearing and told everyone to sit down. Seiya hesitated for a moment but considering the place they were about to infiltrate he had no choice but to talk about it.
Seiya prepared himself and started.
ãThinking of the place we are going to, I feel that I need to make it clear. That being said, you canât tell what Iâm about to say to anyone. If you speak about this in Leiria, the Holy Church will detain you without any questions. Please make a necessary resolveã
Once he said that, he started to quietly talk about the dark attribute.
ãIn the Leiria Kingdom, there are composite and derived attributes but they basically consist of the fire, water, wind, and light attributes.
Hearing the words dark attribute, the student council turned silent. They thought of such a possibility but upon hearing it personally, their common sense couldnât keep up.
Seeing their reaction, Seiya remembered that seeing is believing and decided to demonstrate.
Seiya waved his finger towards a nearby rock.
In the next moment, the rock disappeared as is it was never present in that place.
They couldnât understand what happened but their instincts made them shudder in fear. If this magic is to be used against the target that doesnât know its effect......Selena got goosebumps just by thinking about it.
Faced with their expressions, Seiya continued with the explanation.
ãThis was an elementary spell of the dark attributeãDark Waveãã
Selena and the rest received a shock when they heard thatãDark Waveãwas just an elementary spell. It wonât be surprising for this spell to be classified as an advanced one in the Leiria Kingdom. But for it to be treated as an elementary spell. They felt their hair stand straight.
ãThe greatest feature of this attribute is a possibility of eliminating the chantã
ãWithout chanting?ã
ãRight. To be precise, the existence of a chant itself if being erased. For the dark attribute, as for any other, there is also a special effectã
ãIs that erasing? ã
Asked Mona. Seiya answered her question with an explanation.
ãCorrect. Like that, ãDark Waveãis able to erase the chant. If you meet such a magician, you should immediately run away. Most likely, you wonât stand a chanceã
ãBut can we escape? ã
ãWell, that may be difficult. However, there arenât that many magicians capable of usingãDark Waveãwithout the chant, so relaxã []
Said Seiya while recalling Grisfon.
Although that guy used a magic stone, he did manage to unleash it without the chant. The people on the sides called him an A-rank adventurer because of that.
For that, he understood that being able to useãDark Waveãwithout the chant was enough to qualify as an A-rank adventurer and that the A-rank adventurers are rarely seen. Thatâs why Seiya wasnât concerned about it too much.
ãIs there any countermeasure if your opponent is the dark attribute user?ã
Asked Selena. Selena knows the frightening aspect of the dark attribute more that the other two. Thatâs why she was so interested in a method to oppose it.
ãOf course there is. In short, the light attribute. It is said that no other element can counter the light attribute in Leiria but the dark attribute can.
The opposite is also true, the light attribute can contend against the dark attribute. That being said, it is impossible in your case so you better dodgeã
ãDodge, he said.......ã
Selena became exasperated at his ridiculous explanation. However, Seiya didnât know any other method instead of dodging.
ãIn general, the chant is still necessary for the dark element magic. Thatâs why you donât have to be so frightened. Is there is one, who can do it, leave him to me and run away. Yua can withstand it too by the wayã
ãUn.....ã
While making unresigned expressions, the team proceeded forward once again. In the end, no one askedãWhy can Seiya use the dark attribute? ã.
After another two hours of horse riding, the team finally caught sight of the Demon King Mansion.
The Demon King Mansion was more of a tower than a mansion. Its height was beyond that of the -story hotel that they stayed in. That stone tower looked sturdy and intimidating.
ãAll right then, shall we go?ã
ãEh?ã
Selena was surprised at his casual approach.
Even though it was the enemyâs stronghold, he started walking as if going to a convenience store in the neighborhood. By the way, the magic horses were bound to a nearby rock.
As Yua and Lily followed closely behind him, Selena and the rest hurried after them.
As a matter of course, there was a gatekeeper near the entrance to the tower, who blocked their path.
ãWait, who are you?ã
There were four gatekeepers. The four had weapons and looked competent. However, it had no meaning before Seiya.
ãJust have some business with your Lord. Let me throughã
Listening to Seiya, who was too familiar with the Demon King, the gatekeepersâ pupils shrunk for a moment but they immediately deemed it a lie and turned intimidating.
In the first place, a boy like Seiya couldnât possibly be the Demon Kingâs friend, he was just a suspicious person. The gatekeepers pulled out their swords and pointed them at Seiya and the rest.
ãI will warn you only once. If you let me pass, I wonât kill youã
Faced with his relaxed attitude, the gatekeepers became enraged and slashed at Seiya.
ãDonât screw with me!ã
ãYou are the one, who will be killedã
ãPrepare yourselfã
ãDie!ã
Pachin
The moment Seiya waved his finger at the gatekeepers, their existence vanished from this world.
To be precise, their bodies were erased thanks to Seiya.
Since Seiya killed them too nonchalantly, the student council members couldnât comprehend what happened at first. However, when this fact gradually seeped into them, they immediately asked.
ãWhy did you kill them?ã
ãWasnât that overdoing things?ã
ãHorribleã
A person was killed before their eyes for the first time. The three had trouble to accept the reality. Perhaps, is Seiya killed them after a hard fight, they wouldnât have minded it too much.
However, he killed a person too easily.
Of course, Seiya had a reason for that.
ãWhat are you saying? This is a fight. The enemies may kill me if I hold back. This is different from the practice fights in the academy. The other side was going to kill me. We should be ready to kill tooã
Seiyaâs opinion was a correct one.
Because Yua and Lily have experience in the dark territory, they could easily accept it.
However, the student council didnât have such experience. Since they ventured into the dark territory the problems were mostly solved by Seiya, they didnât meet with any life or death situations.
Thatâs why they couldnât easily accept Seiyaâs actions.
That was also one of Seiyaâs worried since the day they departed.
Killing people is not the same as killing monsters. Although it is essentially the same, the hesitation may be born depending on your opponent being a human or not. And a moment of hesitation separates life from death.
Thatâs why Seiya said once again.
ãYou can treat it like a war. Itâs impossible for everyone to survive, if you want to protect something, you must have the resolve to take something away from your opponent. Even if itâs a lifeã
The three answered with silence.
ãIf itâs now, you still have time. Those, who didnât resolve themselves to kill, go back. You will only increase the risksã
Said Seiya and headed inside the tower. Yua and Lily followed right after.
The three looked at each other and decided on an answer. We came all the way here to save Moka. If you need our resolve, we have it.
The three followed Seiya into the tower. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 1,
"inserted_lines_src": 0,
"inserted_lines_trg": 1
} |
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ããããšãããããŸãã | One is the Thylacine Project.
The other one is the Lazarus Project, and that's focused on the gastric-brooding frog.
And it would be a fair question to ask, why have we focused on these two animals?
Well, point number one, each of them represents a unique family of its own.
We've lost a whole family.
That's a big chunk of the global genome gone.
I'd like it back.
The second reason is that we killed these things.
In the case of the thylacine, regrettably, we shot every one that we saw.
We slaughtered them.
In the case of the gastric-brooding frog, we may have "fungicided" it to death.
There's a dreadful fungus that's moving through the world that's called the chytrid fungus, and it's nailing frogs all over the world.
We think that's probably what got this frog, and humans are spreading this fungus.
And this introduces a very important ethical point, and I think you will have heard this many times when this topic comes up.
What I think is important is that, if it's clear that we exterminated these species, then I think we not only have a moral obligation to see what we can do about it, but I think we've got a moral imperative to try to do something, if we can.
OK. Let me talk to you about the Lazarus Project.
It's a frog. And you think, frog.
Yeah, but this was not just any frog.
Unlike a normal frog, which lays its eggs in the water and goes away and wishes its froglets well, this frog swallowed its fertilized eggs, swallowed them into the stomach, where it should be having food, didn't digest the eggs, and turned its stomach into a uterus.
In the stomach, the eggs went on to develop into tadpoles, and in the stomach, the tadpoles went on to develop into frogs, and they grew in the stomach until eventually the poor old frog was at risk of bursting apart.
It has a little cough and a hiccup, and out comes sprays of little frogs.
Now, when biologists saw this, they were agog.
They thought, this is incredible.
No animal, let alone a frog, has been known to do this, to change one organ in the body into another.
And you can imagine the medical world went nuts over this as well.
If we could understand how that frog is managing the way its tummy works, is there information here that we need to understand or could usefully use to help ourselves?
Now, I'm not suggesting we want to raise our babies in our stomach, but I am suggesting it's possible we might want to manage gastric secretion in the gut.
And just as everybody got excited about it, bang!
It was extinct.
I called up my friend, Professor Mike Tyler in the University of Adelaide.
He was the last person who had this frog, a colony of these things, in his lab.
And I said, "Mike, by any chance --" This was 30 or 40 years ago.
"By any chance had you kept any frozen tissue of this frog?"
And he thought about it, and he went to his deep freezer, minus 20 degrees centigrade, and he poured through everything in the freezer, and there in the bottom was a jar and it contained tissues of these frogs.
This was very exciting, but there was no reason why we should expect that this would work, because this tissue had not had any antifreeze put in it, cryoprotectants, to look after it when it was frozen.
And normally, when water freezes, as you know, it expands, and the same thing happens in a cell.
If you freeze tissues, the water expands, damages or bursts the cell walls.
Well, we looked at the tissue under the microscope.
It actually didn't look bad. The cell walls looked intact.
So we thought, let's give it a go.
What we did is something called somatic cell nuclear transplantation.
We took the eggs of a related species, a living frog, and we inactivated the nucleus of the egg.
We used ultraviolet radiation to do that.
And then we took the dead nucleus from the dead tissue of the extinct frog and we inserted those nuclei into that egg.
Now, by rights, this is kind of like a cloning project, like what produced Dolly, but it's actually very different, because Dolly was live sheep into live sheep cells.
That was a miracle, but it was workable.
What we're trying to do is take a dead nucleus from an extinct species and put it into a completely different species and expect that to work.
Well, we had no real reason to expect it would, and we tried hundreds and hundreds of these.
And just last February, the last time we did these trials, I saw a miracle starting to happen.
What we found was most of these eggs didn't work, but then suddenly, one of them began to divide.
That was so exciting.
And then the egg divided again. And then again.
And pretty soon, we had early-stage embryos with hundreds of cells forming those.
We even DNA-tested some of these cells, and the DNA of the extinct frog is in those cells.
So we're very excited. This is not a tadpole. It's not a frog.
But it's a long way along the journey to producing, or bringing back, an extinct species.
We haven't announced this publicly before.
We're excited. We've got to get past this point.
We now want this ball of cells to start to gastrulate, to turn in so that it will produce the other tissues.
It'll go on and produce a tadpole and then a frog.
I think we're going to have this frog hopping glad to be back in the world again.
Thank you.
We haven't done it yet, but keep the applause ready.
The second project I want to talk to you about is the Thylacine Project.
The thylacine looks a bit, to most people, like a dog, or maybe like a tiger, because it has stripes.
But it's not related to any of those. It's a marsupial.
It raised its young in a pouch, like a koala or a kangaroo would do, and it has a long history, a long, fascinating history, that goes back 25 million years.
But it's also a tragic history.
The first one that we see occurs in the ancient rain forests of Australia about 25 million years ago, and the National Geographic Society is helping us to explore these fossil deposits.
In those fossil rocks are some amazing animals.
We found marsupial lions.
We found carnivorous kangaroos.
It's not what you usually think about as a kangaroo, but these are meat-eating kangaroos.
We found the biggest bird in the world, bigger than that thing that was in Madagascar, and it too was a flesh eater. It was a giant, weird duck.
And crocodiles were not behaving at that time either.
You think of crocodiles as doing their ugly thing, sitting in a pool of water.
These crocodiles were actually out on the land and they were even climbing trees and jumping on prey on the ground.
We had, in Australia, drop crocs. They really do exist.
But what they were dropping on was not only other weird animals but also thylacines.
There were five different kinds of thylacines in those ancient forests, and they ranged from great big ones to middle-sized ones to one that was about the size of a chihuahua.
Paris Hilton would have been able to carry one of these things around in a little handbag, until a drop croc landed on her.
At any rate, it was a fascinating place, but unfortunately, Australia didn't stay this way.
Climate change has affected the world for a long period of time, and gradually, the forests disappeared, the country began to dry out, and the number of kinds of thylacines began to decline, until by five million years ago, only one left.
By 10,000 years ago, they had disappeared from New Guinea, and unfortunately, by 4,000 years ago, somebodies, we don't know who this was, introduced dingoes -- this is a very archaic kind of a dog -- into Australia.
And as you can see, dingoes are very similar in their body form to thylacines.
That similarity meant they probably competed.
They were eating the same kinds of foods.
It's even possible that aborigines were keeping some of these dingoes as pets, and therefore they may have had an advantage in the battle for survival.
All we know is, soon after the dingoes were brought in, thylacines were extinct in the Australian mainland, and after that they only survived in Tasmania.
Then, unfortunately, the next sad part of the thylacine story is that Europeans arrived in 1788, and they brought with them the things they valued, and that included sheep.
They took one look at the thylacine in Tasmania, and they thought, hang on, this is not going to work.
That guy is going to eat all our sheep.
That was not what happened, actually.
Wild dogs did eat a few of the sheep, but the thylacine got a bad rap.
But immediately, the government said, that's it, let's get rid of them, and they paid people to slaughter every one that they saw.
By the early 1930s, 3,000 to 4,000 thylacines had been murdered.
It was a disaster, and they were about to hit the wall.
Have a look at this bit of film footage.
It makes me very sad because, while it's a fascinating animal, and it's amazing to think that we had the technology to film it before it actually plunged off that cliff of extinction, we didn't, unfortunately, at this same time, have a molecule of concern about the welfare for this species.
These are photos of the last surviving thylacine, Benjamin, who was in the Beaumaris Zoo in Hobart.
To add insult to injury, having swept this species nearly off the table, this animal, when it died of neglect -- The keepers didn't let it into the hutch on a cold night in Hobart.
It died of exposure, and in the morning, when they found the body of Benjamin, they still cared so little for this animal that they threw the body in the dump.
Does it have to stay this way?
In 1990, I was in the Australian Museum.
I was fascinated by thylacines. I've always been obsessed with these animals.
And I was studying skulls, trying to figure out their relationships to other sorts of animals, and I saw this jar, and here, in the jar, was a little girl thylacine pup, perhaps six months old.
The guy who had found it and killed the mother had pickled the pup, and they pickled it in alcohol.
I'm a paleontologist, but I still knew alcohol was a DNA preservative.
But this was 1990, and I asked my geneticist friends, couldn't we think about going into this pup and extracting DNA, if it's there, and then somewhere down the line in the future, we'll use this DNA to bring the thylacine back?
The geneticists laughed. But this was six years before Dolly.
Cloning was science fiction. It had not happened.
But then suddenly cloning did happen.
And I thought, when I became director of the Australian Museum, I'm going to give this a go.
I put a team together.
We went into that pup to see what was in it, and we did find thylacine DNA.
It was a eureka moment. We were very excited.
Unfortunately, we also found a lot of human DNA.
Every old curator who'd been in that museum had seen this wonderful specimen, put their hand in the jar, pulled it out and thought, "Wow, look at that," plop, dropped it back in the jar, contaminating this specimen.
And that was a worry. If the goal here was to get the DNA out and use the DNA down the track to try to bring a thylacine back, what we didn't want happening when the information was shoved into the machine and the wheel turned around and the lights flashed, was to have a wizened old horrible curator pop out the other end of the machine.
It would've kept the curator very happy, but it wasn't going to keep us happy.
So we went back to these specimens and we started digging around, and particularly, we looked into the teeth of skulls, hard parts where humans had not been able to get their fingers, and we found much better quality DNA.
We found nuclear mitochondrial genes.
It's there. So we got it.
OK. What could we do with this stuff?
Well, George Church, in his book, "Regenesis," has mentioned many of the techniques that are rapidly advancing to work with fragmented DNA.
We would hope that we'll be able to get that DNA back into a viable form, and then, much like we've done with the Lazarus Project, get that stuff into an egg of a host species.
It has to be a different species. What could it be?
Why couldn't it be a Tasmanian devil?
They're related, distantly, to thylacines.
And then the Tasmanian devil is going to pop a thylacine out the south end.
Critics of this project say, hang on.
Thylacine, Tasmanian devil? That's going to hurt.
No, it's not. These are marsupials.
They give birth to babies that are the size of a jelly bean.
That Tasmanian devil's not even going to know it gave birth.
it's got the ugliest Tasmanian devil baby in the world, so maybe it'll need some help to keep it going.
Andrew Pask and his colleagues have demonstrated this might not be a waste of time.
And it's sort of in the future, we haven't got there yet, but it's the kind of thing we want to think about.
They took some of this same pickled thylacine DNA and they spliced it into a mouse genome, but they put a tag on it so that anything that this thylacine DNA produced would appear blue-green in the mouse baby.
In other words, if thylacine tissues were being produced by the thylacine DNA, it would be able to be recognized.
When the baby popped up, it was filled with blue-green tissues.
And that tells us if we can get that genome back together, get it into a live cell, it's going to produce thylacine stuff.
Is this a risk?
You've taken the bits of one animal and you've mixed them into the cell of a different kind of an animal.
Are we going to get a Frankenstein? Some kind of weird hybrid chimera?
And the answer is no.
If the only nuclear DNA that goes into this hybrid cell is thylacine DNA, that's the only thing that can pop out the other end of the devil.
OK, if we can do this, could we put it back?
This is a key question for everybody.
Does it have to stay in a laboratory, or could we put it back where it belongs?
Could we put it back in the throne of the king of beasts in Tasmania, restore that ecosystem?
Or has Tasmania changed so much that that's no longer possible?
I've been to Tasmania.
I've been to many of the areas where the thylacines were common.
I've even spoken to people, like Peter Carter here, who when I spoke to him, was 90 years old, but in 1926, this man and his father and his brother caught thylacines.
They trapped them.
And when I spoke to this man, I was looking in his eyes and thinking, "Behind those eyes is a brain that has memories of what thylacines feel like, what they smelled like, what they sounded like."
He led them around on a rope.
He has personal experiences that I would give my left leg to have in my head.
We'd all love to have this sort of thing happen.
Anyway, I asked Peter, by any chance, could he take us back to where he caught those thylacines.
My interest was in whether the environment had changed.
He thought hard. It was nearly 80 years before this that he'd been at this hut.
At any rate, he led us down this bush track, and there, right where he remembered, was the hut, and tears came into his eyes.
He looked at the hut. We went inside.
There were the wooden boards on the sides of the hut where he and his father and his brother had slept at night.
And he told me, as it all was flooding back in memories.
He said, "I remember the thylacines going around the hut wondering what was inside," and he said they made sounds like "Yip! Yip! Yip!"
All of these are parts of his life and what he remembers.
And the key question for me was to ask Peter, has it changed?
And he said no.
The southern beech forests surrounded his hut just like it was when he was there in 1926.
The grasslands were sweeping away.
That's classic thylacine habitat.
And the animals in those areas were the same that were there when the thylacine was around.
So could we put it back? Yes.
Is that all we would do? And this is an interesting question.
Sometimes you might be able to put it back, but is that the safest way to make sure it never goes extinct again?
And I don't think so.
I think gradually, as we see species all around the world, it's kind of a mantra that wildlife is increasingly not safe in the wild.
We'd love to think it is, but we know it isn't.
We need other parallel strategies coming online.
And this one interests me.
Some of the thylacines that were being turned in to zoos, sanctuaries, even at the museums, had collar marks on the neck.
They were being kept as pets, and we know a lot of bush tales and memories of people who had them as pets, and they say they were wonderful, friendly.
came in out of the forest to lick this boy and curled up around the fireplace to go to sleep.
A wild animal.
And I'd like to ask the question. We need to think about this.
If it had not been illegal to keep these thylacines as pets then, would the thylacine be extinct now?
And I'm positive it wouldn't.
We need to think about this in today's world.
Could it be that getting animals close to us so that we value them, maybe they won't go extinct?
And this is such a critical issue for us because if we don't do that, we're going to watch more of these animals plunge off the precipice.
As far as I'm concerned, this is why we're trying to do these kinds of de-extinction projects.
We are trying to restore that balance of nature that we have upset.
Thank you. | {
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I gave a deep sigh as I stood in the familiar forest in Raumâs outskirts.
I ended up getting sent to another world together with the girl called Sora thanks to Kufarâs parting gift, and after many bitter experiences, finally managed to come back.
It had been just a few days. Not a long time, but I still missed the mischievous Cortina and gentle Finiaâs faces.
I dragged my heavy feet and passed through Raumâs gate.
God Hastur seemed to have given them a heads-up, Cortina and Finia were already waiting for me there.
âNicole, welcome back!â
âLady Nicole!â
The two practically leaped at me for a hug.
By the way, God Hastur who worked hard to retrieve me was currently punishing the God of Destruction because she had âneglected dangerous materials.â Sora was probably also being punished by a man called Shuuya in that other world. Probably using pervy means.
âIâm back, Cortina, Finia.â
âGood grief. I was at my witâs end when I heard you went to another world.â
âIâm shooo gwaaad!â
I soothed Finia who was bawling her eyes while hugging me, and I felt like I was really home now.
I returned to the inn while the two continued hugging me, and there I reunited with Michelle and Cloud.
The two had gotten quite famous after the defensive battle against the Devils, so it was tough for them to even walk outside.
âAh, welcome back, Nicole!â
âLord Hastur told us it would be fine, so we didnât worry much.â
âUh, I wouldnât say it was exactly fine...â
Letâs just say I got wrapped up in too many incidents in that other world.
Me aside, even that Sora girl was quite a troublemaker. We got entangled by tentacles the moment we arrived in another world. Then she decided to lead me to the town only to end up charging straight into an Orc settlement, and when we decided to climb over a mountain we encountered bandits too.
All of those lead to very dodgy developments and I lost count of how many times I felt danger to my chastity.
But I narrowly escaped all of them, sometimes even having to transform into the Evil Dragon with Polymorph, and somehow got back to this world.
It was definitely not something that could be summed up as being
âW-Well, heâs the Wind God, so maybe he didnât think of it as much.â
âWind God you say... I donât really see much of his godliness anywhere.â
âOh come on, didnât you know he supported the World Tree with wind magic? Donât you think thatâs very god-like?â
Cloud smoothed over it while Michelle was honestly praising him, but she kinda had a point I guess.
Oh yeah, Finia returned to her room to fix her makeup. She didnât seem to be using much makeup anyway, so I guess she was just embarrassed after crying.
Cortina looked like she was in her usual state, but she remained at my side and kept slowly drawing near, so I guess she was lonely after all.
We sat in the dining hall and talked about our circumstances... or well, nothing that grand, but we just let each other know what was going on, but the outside gazes were bothering me.
Due to Pope Ashellaâs judgment, we were publicly declared to be the ones who saved the World Tree from collapse, while Michelle and Cloud performed extraordinarily in Stollar.
We were considered to be the next generation of heroes after that Six Heroes, and all the worldâs attention was on us.
This situation was the same in both Raum and Stollar.
âUgh, it feels uncomfortable.â
âWeâre being watched, huh.â
âThis is already your second time being a Hero, Nicole. Oh wait, you saved the Pope before, so I guess itâs your third time? You will be the subject of attention.â
âThe information that youâre Reid has also spread too.â
Cortina waved her hand with a natural gesture. Finia returned at that time.
âWhatâs the matter?â
âNicole... I mean, Reidâs feeling awkward now that his fame has spread.â
âIsnât that a little too late?â
âWell, I guess it is.â
I remember being showered in gazes and feeling uncomfortable even back when we defeated the Evil Dragon.
I was famous as an assassin too back then, so I was constantly on edge thinking someone would come to take revenge any second.
And I feel the same now.
âIt ainât gonna be a laughing matter if some dude comes for me for my past lifeâs deeds.â
âYouâre speaking like Reid now.â
âIt happens sometimes.â
Your speaking habits of many years wouldnât go away so fast.
Plus, I had lived as Reid longer still.
It was about sixteen years since I was reborn as Nicole, but I lived twenty-four years as Reid.
It was like . times longer. Also since it was my first memory, it would probably take another ten years to fix.
âWell, maybe Iâll get it fixed once I hit thirty.â
âDoes that mean you still lack awareness as a girl? Maybe if we did more night training itâll help.â
âLady Cortina, please bring me along when that opportunity arises.â
âOf course. But Iâm the one doing it first, okay?â
âYou two, take your dirty topics somewhere else.â
I scolded Cortina who spoke without caring about public gazes.
Finia started to act rashly too ever since she and Cortina overcame life and death struggles together.
I was jealous and envious of the men who heard their talk and couldnât stand upright due to their bulges.
But first off I wanted to tell them not to look at the two with such eyes.
âAnyway, what about the commission?â
We came to Raum because of the underground library sorting commission.
I had to drop out of that commission because of the incident so I was wondering how it ended.
âIt went fine. We couldnât work well that day, but the day after God Hastur headed out to save you, so we managed to return to sorting the books.â
âWe couldnât even play hooky, because they told us to quickly sort them since there mightâve been other dangerous books mixed among them.â
Michelle and Cloud seemed calmer than Finia, so they explained what happened afterward.
I guess that shows how much they trusted the Wind God. And God of Destruction too in extension, I guess.
Well, he was someone who gave them their equipment that was tied to their lives, so I can see why theyâd see him as dependable.
âI see. Glad to hear it ended well. But still, we canât calm down in Raum like this.â
âYeah. Iâm happy since I get to stay with mom, but neighbors constantly come to hear the details from me, so I canât get a breather.â
âSame here. The children at the orphanage keep asking me to tell them how I fought with the Devils and sometimes people from the chivalric order come to scout me out...â
âOh, yeah, they came to me too!â
âYours too, Michelle? I guess we really canât settle down here.â
Not just Michelle with her bow skill, but even Cloud was being scouted now due to his battle experiences.
They had the backing of the Six Heroes, so they werenât being very brazen about it, but they were still showing up at every opportunity.
âI guess it wonât be great to overstay in Raum. And maybe in Stollar too, actually.â
âShould we move to another town entirely?â
âStollar and Raum have Maxwell and Donovan to cover for you, but these kinds of people still manage to slip through their eyes. Staying at Lyellâs place, for the time being, might be a good idea.â
Cortinaâs opinions were important in situations like this.
And her judgment was rarely wrong.
It was better to do as she was saying.
âI guess thereâs no choice then. Michelle, Cloud, are you fine with returning to the village for the time being?â
âYup, I am! I havenât stayed there for a long time.â
âWe came back right after the last time we went there, so I hope we can take our time this time.â
âNow that you mention it, you didnât even get to take a stroll there, did you, Cloud? Itâs a tranquil place so itâs ideal for strolls. Though Kobolds show up sometimes.â
Cloud responded with a dejected face, but he didnât seem to be against the idea. I guess it showed how constrained he was feeling in Raum now.
Thus, like that, we decided to evacuate to the northern village. | {
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æã¯ãæããŠãããã®å·šå€§ãªéåããã«ã«æŸã€ãå °ãåã£ãããã«ã解ãæŸãããéåã®å¥æµã¯ç¬ãéã«åšå²ãèãçãããã«äŸµé£ããŠãã£ãã | The fight began between the Decarabia Knight, Lepes, and the failure (False Kin), Bebe. From their raw fighting spirit, it seems both sides had a history with each other. Lepesâ expression was particularly bloodcurdling. I could tell that he placed his everything on the line, in order to destroy demons. On the other hand, Bebe faced him with a dismissive sneer.
Damned Bebe. You dare to act insolent? Showing such an attitude despite your measly mana? No wonder the humans make light of you.
Lepes roared before attacking Bebe with a slash. Bebe responded by firing magic bullets to keep Lepes in check, while black flames appeared at his fingertips, one after another. Any trees that touched those flames disappeared in an instant, but despite the shield and sword in hand, Lepes avoided the flames with inhuman speed.
Lepes and Bebe continued their battle as they jeered at each other. However, perhaps due to the difference in experience, Lepes became cornered as the fight prolonged. And eventually, Bebeâs darkness magic caught up with him.
âGUHUH-!â
The magic destroyed his balance. Unwilling to lose this opening, Bebe began to chant a high level magic.
âFwo fwo, take this. Fire Shout!
The whole area was enveloped in flame. Even Lepes was forced into the defensive, so he tried to protect himself from the flames.
âW-, T-This is the power of d-demons...? Itâs on a totally different level to us!â
âI-, I canât believe it... T-That manâs power is even higher than Captain Remiliaâs.â
The Public Safety Force all commented as they watched the battle.
Haahhhh~ That they have mistaken something of this level to be the power of demons brings me endless vexation. However, going out of my way to correct them would bring needless suspicion, and runs counter to elder sisterâs goal.
Now then, what shall I do...
It is not yet time to openly reveal my identity to the humans. But it would not do if I did not punish these failures for their transgressions. Should I separate just this lot from the area? Speaking of which, the human named Lepes had prepared a teleportation spell, had he not.
Fumu. Though the magic equation is not yet complete, it has reached a stage where completing the remainder is simple.
Well then, shall I use you?
The moment I activated the spell, a magic circle appeared on the spot.
âWha-!? Who activated the f̲u̲c̲k̲i̲n̲g spell!?â
âFwo fwo, it seems that a third party has intervened.â
âW-What the? What the? This magic circle has suddenly... S-S̲h̲i̲t̲! E-EVERYONE RETREAAAAAAAATTT!â
The teleportation magic activated...
And then we appeared at Bebeâs garrison.
Hmph, bingo. Just by meddling with it a little, the destination was changed from an evacuation spot, to a place with a strong density of souls with mana similar to Bebeâs.
Mm mm, there they are. A gathering of failures! Beneath my eyes were hundreds of small fry, swarming about.
Honestly, that damned Bebe. How dare he pollute the world with all this garbage!
âTsk, I donât know who, but somebody messed with the magic equation.â
âW-WHAT THE! What the f̲u̲c̲k̲ is going on! W-Weâre right in the middle of enemy territory now...!â
Even needless extras had tagged along. How strange. I only intended to teleport Bebe and whatnot. The teleportation array should have stayed well clear of the evacuees...
I looked at them.
From their expressions... I saw weakness, naturally, but also lowliness and vulgarity of character.
In other words, they abandoned their duty. The Public Safety Force had been in formation to protect the evacuees. But they simply wished to be the first to escape. So even though the array stayed clear of them, they jumped in of their own accord.
They tried to escape danger, but instead jumped in head-first. Such irony. Some extras have gotten in the way of my spectating, but well, that is fine. They fall within the acceptable margin of error.
âV-Viceroy, w-what on earth is this?â
Bebeâs kin were visibly shocked by the sudden intrusive.
âFwo fwo fwo, how lucky for me. You lot are to surround them and prevent their escape.â
âU-, Understood.â
Bebeâs army moved to surround us.
âS- Ser Lepes, what should we...?â
âWhat? You guys got wrapped up as well? Youâre going to get in the way of our battle, so get the hell out of here.â
âH-, However, we cannot escape while trapped like this.â
âLike I care. You guys are still technically the Public Safety Force, arenât you. If youâre going to spout such pathetic b̲u̲l̲l̲s̲h̲i̲t̲, then Iâll cut you down on the spot.â
âN-, No way...â
Abandoned by Lepes, the Public Safety Force members all had looks of despair. Lepes paid these weaklings no heed, and raised his sword. It seemed that he was looking for a way to break past the blockade.
âF-, F̲u̲c̲k̲ it all! Now that itâs come to this, itâs all or nothing. Weâre going to look for a weak spot to break through from.â
âYeah, as if we can deal with a fight between these monsters. Weâd better run now.â
âLike we have the time for that s̲h̲i̲t̲. Weâre all nobles. The life of one brat canât compare.â
âTrue. Actually, itâs a lucky break. While theyâre busy beating this brat to death, weâll have some time to escape.â
Saying that, the Public Safety members tried to escape before me.
Hmhm, just perfect.
âHow irritating. You shall move!â
âW-, Whatâ GUHAH-!â
âO-Oi, brat! Donât get in ourâ GAAACK-!â
After getting in their way and thrusting them back, I stood in front of Bebe.
âFwo fwo fwo, and who might you be, little human missy? No need to hurry. After Iâm done with this one, Iâll have plenty of time to play with you.â
âHihihi, Viceroy, please let us have your leftovers!â
âYeah, what he said. This one is quite the beauty. Iâm going to eat her up!â
âHahhh, hahhh, V-Viceroy, I-I c-canât hold on any more. I have to have her.â
The moment I appeared, Bebeâs army stirred into action. What a vulgar bunch. However little it may be, once I consider that these things have anything to do with me, I start to feel depressed. Unless I immediately clean the world of these failures, I wonât rest at ease.
âBebe, you have grown quite impudent in these few thousand years. It fills me with nostalgia to recall the days when you would tremble in fear of the enemy.â
âFwo fwo fwo, what is this all of a sudden...? Human, after saying something like that, donât think that you will get off easy. I assure you, you will not die at rest!â
âSo you do not realize, if I suppress my mana? To forget your own master, even insolence has its limits!â
âMaster, you say?â
âHmph, so you have forgotten this face of mine!?â
âI-I-It canât be!? That bearing, and that visage... Are you Camilla!?â
âI-, Is that really her?â
âT-, Thatâs our True Ancestor?â
Bebeâs lot all looked confused. Well, none of them have actually met me, so I suppose that reaction is reasonable. I think they will at least listen to Bebeâs instructions, but...
âY-, YOU LOOOOOOT! Y-Your heads are too high! Restrain yourselves! This is our esteemed True Ancestor. Our master and lady!â
Bebeâs expression suddenly changed as he screamed, silencing the lot of them into prostration.
âHmph, so you finally remember your place! Honestly, you sure have grown impudent during the time I was sealed!â
âN-, No way... W-, We merely strove to rule the world as your kin, Lady Camilla...â
âAnd I am saying that, is being impudent. Ruling the world? The likes of you will? Jokes are supposed to be told, not acted out!â
âH-, However, for your sake, Lady Camilla, and for the sake of your eternal fame, and for the sake of spreading the Malferand name through the world, weââ
âThat. That is exactly what I speak of. When did I bestow the likes of you the permission to use my surname! Know your place! You shall apologize with your deaths!â
â...â
âWhat? What is that rebellion in your eyes? You used my surname without permission. As though that was not enough, you then encroached with your muddy shoes upon our territory, the Capital. Bebe, that conduct is unforgivable. All of you will suicide, at once!â
âNUUU! W-, While you spent these millenia sealed away, I have steadily increased my power. I-I am d-different from you!â
âIn the short time I have not seen you, it appears that youâve grown quite an impertinent mouth.â
I approached to hand down punishment, when Bebe suddenly shouted,
âEEI! There is no way that Lady Camilla would appear in a place like this! T-, THIS THING IS A FAKEE! What an extremely rude thing they are! Kill them! Kill them, I say!â
âHooh~ A fake, you say. Bebe, is that your answer?â
âB-, But Viceroy, to bare our fangs towards the esteemed True Ancestor is...â
âF-, Fool! Just look at their mana! How could someone so measly possibly be our True Ancestor! TIS A FAKE!â
âT-, That certainly makes sense... Alright. Everybody, this woman dared pretend to be our esteemed True Ancestor. Itâs time for a festival of blood!â
ââYEAHH!ââ
Bebeâs army approached me, and began shrinking the encirclement. Counting from the left is seven-thousand mana, four-thousand mana, five thousand... Hmph. Even counting is a waste of time. They are all the very pictures of small fry. I shall clean them up in one go.
They think they can defeat me with this level of power? Are they half-asleep, or are they simply insane?
âKu ku, my goodness. It appears that once you exceed a certain level of anger, your face begins to smile instead!â
I released my suppressed mana in full. Like an ocean erupting through a dam, the torrents of mana swept through everything in the surroundings. | {
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é¢åºèº«ã ã£ãã£ã......ã | âGoodbye, Milina!â
âEveryone...â
Just as we were about to leave the orphanage, the children came out to see her off.
Behind them stood Ms. Anna. There was a mixture of pride and sadness in her face as she saw Milina leave.
â...Headmistress. Everyone. Goodbye!â
Milina closed her eyes once as if to ward off tears. And then she bid them farewell and walked away from the orphanage with us.
âWuff...â âGood Leo...you are so kind...â
After we had walked for a while, Leo pushed gently against Milina as if concerned.
While it was a little awkward with her carrying her belongings, she leaned against Leo and was enveloped in her fur.
âThank you, good Leo. I feel better now!â
After feeling the soft silver fur, Milina raised her head and answered cheerfully to Leo.
I could tell now that she had the resolve to not regret her decision.
âSorry to keep you waiting.â
The butler arrived with the carriage, and so we loaded it with Milinaâs luggage.
Once it was all in, the only thing left to do was return home.
She seemed to hesitate to ride in the carriage with us, and so I called her.
âI think you should ride with Leo.â âWith Leo? I can do that!?â
âAye. Right, Leo?â âWuff!â
Milina was very surprised by this.
Leo then nodded as if to say that she could take it from here. And then she moved in front of Milina and lay low so that it would be easier to climb onto her back.
âAre you certain?â
âItâs fine. She wonât shake you off. See?â âWuff. Wuff.â âKyau!â
I encouraged her, as she seemed to be hesitating over whether she should ride on Leoâs back. And so she did.
Leo looked happy to be able to carry someone, and she wagged her tail and barked.
Even Sherry, who had been riding on Leo this whole time, barked as if welcoming Milina.
âSheâs so soft... Also...uh, Sherry, was it?â âKyau!â
Sherry replied happily and then jumped onto Milina.
Once I saw that she was holding Sherry securely, I got into the carriage.
âYou are very kind, Mr. Takumi.â
âDo you think so? I only said that because Leo looked like she wanted to carry someone.â
â...Or because you saw that Milina was looking lonely?â â...Well, leaving the people and place that raised you...it would make one lonely.â âSo you are a kind person.â
Apparently, Ms. Lyra knew my intention.
It was a little embarrassing, especially since we were sitting so close to each other...
While Milina said that she was fine, it would still be sad to leave the place you had been living in for so long.
At least when I came to this world, I had Leo with me. But I remember when I first started living alone as a student. It had been difficult to leave the uncle who had raised me.
âWe will depart now.â
Said the butler, and the carriage moved forward. Leo started to run alongside it.
Around the time that we left the town, I could see Milina through the carriage window as she looked back towards Ractos.
...She really was sad to be leaving.
âThank you, good Leo.â
âWuff.â âHow was the ride, Milina?â
âIt was wonderful. Due to the soft fur, it was a lot more comfortable than a rocking carriage.â
As Leoâs fur acted as a cushion, it was fine even when she moved.
Indeed, you felt a lot of the shaking when in a carriage... I wonder if they donât have suspensions?
âLetâs bring your things in then.â âThank you.â
âAh, let me help you. Itâs mine after all!â
âYou must take it easy today, Milina. While you will be treated as a servant from tomorrow, you are a guest for today.â â...Very well.â
As Ms. Lyra unloaded her things from the carriage, several other servants came out of the mansion and helped carry them inside.
So Milina was a guest today... Well, I suppose it was fine for one day.
âNow, letâs go inside!â
âYes! Though...I do feel nervous about going into such a fine house...â âThereâs no need to be so nervous. Everyone here is very kind.â
I said to Milina, who was standing still by the entrance. And then we stepped inside.
âWelcome back, Mr. Takumi. Welcome, Lady Milina.â
âAh!â
âAhaha. Donât be frightened. They always greet you when you come here.â
When we entered the mansion, several of the servants greeted us all at once.
Milina looked a little tense by this sudden occurrence.
She was nervous enough as it was, and this hadnât helped things at all.
Also, I suppose they were calling her âladyâ because she was a guest for now.
âMilina, itâs been a while. But Iâm glad that youâre finally here!â
âSo you came at last... I feel old already...â âYouâre going to be Mr. Takumiâs apprentice? How very bold of you, Milina.â âEveryone...â
A few of the servants seemed to recognize her as they started to talk to Milina.
Apparently, they knew each other from back at the orphanage.
I see... Ms. Claire did say that she tried to hire from there when possible...
And Milina wonât be as lonely if she has acquaintances here.
âWelcome back, Mr. Takumi.â
âMs. Claire. And Sebastian. Weâre back.â âAh, Lady Claire. Thank you for having me.â
Ms. Claire and Sebastian came down the stairs and greeted us.
Milina became tense again and greeted Ms. Claire awkwardly.
âWelcome to the Liebert house, Milina. Iâm pleased to have you.â âYes. Thank you.â
Ms. Claire smiled cheerfully as she welcomed Milina.
After that, the servants took her away to show her the room where she would be sleeping in.
Ms. Lyra and Ms. Gelda were among them.
Now that I think about it, they were also from the orphanage... | {
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âââââ | Right after the riot began, Uno rushed towards the western gate. By now, Scudo had already incited every disturbing element, and would soon harm the Pope that carelessly showed up in public.
With the central figure of the city getting injured, the investigation would start city... no, kingdom-wide. Before that happened, he had to leave Berith.
He put on the hood so it would not get found out that he was a half-demon, rushing to the gate while keeping the surroundings in check. He wandered through the back street, trying to choose the least populated routes towards the western gate. But then, someone appeared and blocked his way.
âAh, sorry but can I ask you some questions?â
Standing before Uno was a --year-old youth. He looked quite tall for his age, and had quite wide shoulders. And yet, he did not give off much of a macho impression, and rather looked to be on the slender end.
âSorry but Iâm in a hurry. Try someone else.â
âYeah, I know that. I was searching for someone who was in a hurry.â
âWhat?â
Uno raised a dubious voice, to which the youth responded with an elated expression.
âOne or two suspicious individuals darting about at random in unpopulated areas while covering their heads.â
â...What do you mean?â
âI mean the a̲s̲s̲h̲o̲l̲e̲s̲ that injured Nicole... my master.â
The youthâCloud lightly touched the ring on his finger, dispelling its effect. The next moment, a horn that was proof of being a half-demon appeared on his forehead. It was the illusion ring that Nicole always used. She had lent it to him while they were in this city.
Cloud was a half-demon, so he had to hide his horn. Nicole judged it would be useful for that and had lent it. And he was using that ring until just now.
âW-What? I donât know anything about it.â
âLady Cortina has told me that if the riot happened in the south, the ringleader would not stay there. And eastern and western gates were nearby, so it was highly likely that they would head there. I asked her to let us ambush you there.â
âThatâs a false accusation. Are you saying Iâm that ringleader?â
âI said it, didnât I? Youâre the only one that matched the above mentioned conditions. All thatâs left is to see if youâre hiding a horn under that hood and it will be certain. Or maybe finding a Slime under it.â
âWhatââ
Just as Uno voiced his puzzlement at the word Slime, Cloud had instantly closed the distance. He then unsheathed the sword on his hip and slashed up in one motion.
His slash was quick enough that an ordinary person would not be able to dodge it. However, Uno had some experience in combat. Even if it was a surprise attack, he hadnât let his guard down so much that he would fail to dodge a frontal attack.
He dodged the upward slash by a hairâs breadth with backstep, but the hood pulled over his eyes got cut off. The hood fragments danced in the air. And under it, appeared a small horn characteristic of half-humans.
âLooks like I was right. NowâPrepare yourself!â
âThatâs unreasonable! Thereâs no proof that it was me, right?!â
âThen just obediently follow me, and it will only end at getting restrained for some time. Lady Cortina has told me to seize every suspicious fellow. I wonât blame you for being angry... but I donât have time to choose my methods.â
Cloud stood in the middle of the road to not let the opponent escape, lowering his posture and setting up his shield. Of course, since the road was quite wide, it was possible to slip by him, but Uno felt pressure from Cloud that would not permit it.
âYou know... You pissed off the worst person you could have!â
With a yell, Cloud charged at Uno with his shield. Uno jumped aside to dodge the charge, then took out a dagger and threw it at him. Cloud swiped down that flank attack with his sword.
âDamn you, dog of the Strategist. Being a half-demon, you should have joined us!â
âLike hell I would join those who injured Nicole!â
Changing his direction, Cloud swung down the sword from overhead. Uno pulled out two daggers and intercepted that attack. He then sent a kick to push him aside and take a distance, but Cloud stopped him with his shield.
Uno felt like he kicked a cliff, making his leg go a little numb. Following that, he lowered his posture and waited for Cloudâs attack. To respond to that, Cloud decidedânot to attack. Rather, he took a step back and opened the distance.
Uno failed to understand the reason behind his action, momentarily standing still. But the next moment, both his legs were pierced by arrows. One arrow per leg. And almost at the same time.
âGAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!â
âToo bad. But well, I never said I was alone, so I didnât exactly lie or anything.â
His knees got accurately pierced, making it impossible to keep standing and he collapsed in the back alley. Cloud immediately kicked his daggers away, disarming him. Uno started throwing swears at Cloud for the surprise attack.
âYou f̲u̲c̲k̲i̲n̲g coward! You had comrades with you?!â
âOne of them. And sheâs extremely pissed. It took a lot of persuading so she would not kill you.â
Michelle appeared from the alley silently like a ghost. She did not have the usual innocent expression and instead was so expressionless that it was frightening. That was all the more proof of how angry she was.
âHey, can I just kill him, after all?â
âNo. He might have comrades, and we have to get him to spit out the information about their hideout and such.â
âI see. Lucky for you.â
It sounded like a casual conversation, but the next moment, an arrow pierced Unoâs left shoulder. It happened so fast he did not even see her nocking the arrow.
âGYAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!â
He started rolling on the ground, trying to escape from pain, but that only caused the arrows to sink deeper. Michelle stared down at him as if he was a bug.
âCan I go for two or three more?â
âLeave it at that. You should leave some for me too.â
Hearing their talk, Uno started to despair.
He could not escape at this rate. He had heard that the World Tree Religion tortured people like no others. He had no confidence that he would remain sane after experiencing it.
And above all, even if he somehow survived it, Kufar would never forgive him once he gave away their comradesâ locations. What awaited him was being put through agony until he spat out the information, or perhaps he couldâ
âJust die here without hardship...â
Uno grabbed the small bag hanging from his waist with his remaining right hand. Seeing that, Cloud became alert for an attack, moving before Michelle to shield her.
But Uno instead shoved the contents of the bag down his mouth. Thick liquid spilled out from his mouth. Cloud remembered what it was.
âDisease Slime?!â
What Uno swallowed was Kufarâs body part. He did not know Kufar was a Slime, so he believed it to be just poison that he had prepared.
It was such a strong poison that Cloud had fainted from just a touch... and yet, he had just swallowed so much of it compared to the fragment that Nicole had been implanted with before.
âGbh...â
As he poured down the mucus, it got mixed with the blood that he vigorously spat out, spilling down on the ground in a spotted pattern.
However, Uno was not able to even see it as he died.
âââââ | {
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ãã£ã ã¯é¡ããæžããšèšããããèŠãæªããã | âCrap... Should I have pretended to fall down?
Looking down at the giant man who had fallen on his backside, Lucella racked his brains on how to get out of this situation.
He had dropped the adventurer card (He didnât check it assuming it was the manâs as you normally didnât carry other peopleâs cards on you), so he mustâve been an adventurer.
The man had boulder-like arms laid bare, giving off the air that he had trained quite a bit.
A man like that had crashed into Lucella at a significant speed, but he was the one getting flung away while Lucella didnât even feel it. If the pedestrians paid attention they wouldâve been puzzled by this event.
But the fact was that a ramming attack from a guy like that was too meager compared to the charges and leaps of the Variants in the mountains, so Lucella didnât so much as feel it.
But Lucella was well aware that it would be strange from the point of common sense.
Lucella, who looked like a feral child wrapped in nothing but pelts, had borrowed an overcoat to cover it and put the hood on top of it to make her characteristic slitted eyes less noticeable.
It was all to avoid gathering attention and causing a ruckus. So he didnât want to stand out due to an accident like this.
âIâm Lucella. I was in the middle of discussing certain work with Mr. Tim here.â
Lucella gave a pretty random excuse.
âWell, letâs go then, shall we?â
While the large man was still dumbfounded, Lucella grabbed Tim by the hand and urged him forward.
âWhat...? Why does my stomach feel heavy and somehow painful...
Lucella didnât think he received damage from that impact, but he felt a strange sensation on his abdomen.
âGrrrr......â
Kafal seemed like she couldnât forgive the man for crashing into Lucella and was glaring past the crowd while breathing with the sound of the bellows.
âWho was that? Your acquaintance?â
âHeâs Gemel. Heâs an adventurer who has the skill... but thatâs his only redeeming part. Even adventuring is ultimately a business. The higher you go the more manners, planning, and patience become essential. But he has none of those.â
Tim criticized him in lament.
âThings were going well for him for some time, but I canât even look at him lately. If he comes and asks me for help I could do something for him, but...â
âHuh...â
âYouâre too soft, Leader. Itâs better to not get involved with a scumbag like him!â
Unlike Tim, Wein showed clear scorn towards him, wanting to have to do with him.
Lucella heard a burning pounding in his head as if his heart had moved there.
ââAlright, Iâll hire you.ââ
A detestable voice like the sticky old oil resounded in his head.
â âFrom now on, Iâll leave all the odd jobs to you. Donât even dare slack off.
...What was that? Salary? Hah, if you think this is too low you can do whatever. There are more than enough people out there to replace a handyman.ââ
He was condescending, convinced of his own superiority, and domineering.
He toadied to people above him while acting oppressive like an evil god with subordinates and lower ranked people...
It was the voice of that man.
âThis voice... Was it the guy from earlier...?â
He felt like he remembered it. Yet, the memories disappeared as soon as they surfaced like bubbles and fell through Lucellaâs hands.
âOkay, weâre here. This is the branch of the Adventurerâs Guild.â
As Lucella was absorbed in gathering memories, they arrived at the Adventurerâs Guild.
The Adventurerâs Guildâs branch in Kugutfulm for some reason used a big building âone that was originally a templeâ with a clock attached to the bell tower that had its bell removed.
As expected, he felt like he remembered all of this.
The remodeled temple lobby was illuminated by the colorful light from the stained glass of the skylight high above.
In that lobby, on the other side of the counters, there was a pleasant sound of simultaneous explosions.
âWoah, the magic aptitude measuring tool blew up...!!â
âKyaa, all the elemental detectors too...?!â
âThe new dragon aura observation equipment tooooo....!â
The office area turned noisy and the adventurers in the lobby started wondering what was going on.
Meanwhile, Tim called out to the staff member over the counter.
âLooks like itâs quite lively here today.â
âAh, Mr. Tim! Iâm not sure why, but all kinds of things broke all of a sudden...â
âOh...? Well, I guess things like that happen sometimes.â
Tim answered with a cramped smile and then leaned in and whispered in Lucellaâs ear.
âHey, try to hide things better, will you... There are sharp people here so youâll get found.â
âIâll try...â
Erasing your presence was unnecessary during the training on Mount Kuguse.
In the first place, the mountain was filled with the dragon aura that could be said to be Kafalâs presence itself, so sensing others was fundamentally hard. He had no trouble sneaking by just by erasing his sound and smell.
But now that he was no longer on the mountain, that method couldnât work anymore.
âDid you hear anything about that rumor I mentioned?â
âYou mean the dragon interpreter? We did investigate it as best as we could.â
A staff member that seemed close to Tim (perhaps the one in charge of Golden Helmet?) put several notes with neatly written texts on the counter along with some documents.
âThere were no records within the guild. However, several adventurers gathered information and we have mostly identified the source of the rumor.â
â...It seems that it started from one adventurer saying they knew someone who could talk with dragons.â
âOh? And who is it? Stop putting on airs and out with it already.â
Tim spoke with a wry smile at the staff for keeping him in suspense.
âWe donât know...â
âHuh?â
âLetâs refer to them as
who said to know a dragon interpreter certainly was registered as an adventurer in the guild.
However, last year
was attacked by monsters during a quest. And for some reason... everyone forgot
Tim and Lucella were dumbfounded.
It felt like someone taking a walk only to end up in a labyrinth.
name had disappeared. Not simply lost, but disappeared. Even things that were bound with strings had only the concerned pages missing.
name disappeared, so did practically all the records about him, and we currently no longer know anything...â
No magic could normally do something like this.
Moreover, they didnât even know why it happened, and assuming it was erased by someone intentionally, they didnât know the goal behind it.
The situation was simply that eerie.
â...However, what we do know is that he belonged to the party Seventh Dice.â
Tim spoke, his expression going beyond stern and turning bitter. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 5,
"inserted_lines_src": 14,
"inserted_lines_trg": 11
} |
ãããããã®ãããªèŠæ¹ã¯å±éºæ§ã䌎ããå®éããã詳ããæ€æ»ããã°ãåçŽã«ééã£ãŠãããšã¯èšãããšããè¡æ£èããæµ®ã圫ãã«ãªããé·æãšçæã䜵ãæã€æ°æåœå®¶ã¯ãå¥åšãªã®ã§ããã | Indeed, on closer inspection, it proves to be dubious, when not simply wrong. The nation state, with both its strengths and weaknesses, is alive and well. | {
"source": "news_commentary",
"missed_lines": null,
"inserted_lines_src": null,
"inserted_lines_trg": null
} |
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ã¿ãããã«äžäœäžäœãšãªã£ãŠã玫é»ã®åºçªå£ã¯å±±çŸã®é 骚ã貫ããã®ã§ããã | Mitrof bit his lip.
He clenched his fist with his right hand and slammed it hard against his own face.
âââUgh!â
The pain was intense.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
Red blood dripped from his nose and stained Blanc Manjeâs robe.
âI wonât run away!â
Shouting.
driving away fear, temptation, and weakness.
Mitrof stood up, his trembling legs pounding and stomping on the ground.
The goat-skullhead-oldwomanâs song echoed throughout the room. In the air, several lightning thorns surrounded a golden sphere.
just as Blanc Manje has been saving up her magic to deliver the killing blow. The goat-skullhead-oldwoman also gathered magic power to ensure Mitrofâs death.
Mitrof ran.
He picked up his lightning rod that had fallen to the ground and continued running.
He couldnât involve Blanc Manje. He stood alone, holding up the lightning rod with his back against the door.
Electricity filled the air.
Mitrofâs skin tingled, and his hair stood on end. With blood flowing from both nostrils, he howled.
âBogu, gogo!â
He tightens his grip on the handle. The skin of the âElectric Catfishâ that had been wrapped around the handle is crumbling into charcoal.
âAh, if only I had power,â he murmurs to himself.
âThings like a magic sword that can cut any monster in one blow.
âOr magical power that can cancel out lightning magic.
âOr wisdom that never fails and courage to overcome any crisis.
âIf such things existed, I could live a cooler life.â
Mitrof grits his teeth, trembling.
âIt was a mistake to come here alone.
âI want to be recognized by others; I have strength; I can do anything well. I am not wrong.
âThatâs what I wanted to showâbut I was mistaken.
âSo at least in the end, I want to choose something I can truly believe in.
âSomething I can be proud of.â
Tears spilled from Mitrofâs eyes without him knowing why he was crying.
Putting all his strength into it, he exhales a rough breath. Hmph. His blocked nose, now freed, spurts blood. He can breathe. Heâs still alive.
âI donât have incredible strengthâI canât defeat you aloneâbut I wonât runâI wonât run from you anymore!â
A lightning bolt strikes.
The lightning rod he raises receives the impact. Itâs much stronger than any other lightning bolt heâs ever seen. With the death of the goblin soldier, the goat-skullhead-oldwoman has no reservations.
The sound of the electricity clashing echoes. Itâs the sound that ruptures the air. Countless thorny shrubs are in a chaotic uproar, and Mitrofâs vision turns white. He canât even hear the goat-skullhead-oldwomanâs song anymore.
Just standing and raising the lightning rod. And enduring.
The handle of the rod is getting hot. The leather skin wrapped around it is starting to burn. He shouts unconsciously. He endures by shouting. He searches for hope somewhere.
His view is flickering. He doesnât even know if heâs still standing.
Darkness and light alternate, and in the world of light, he gazes upon the past memories:
Mitrof is screamingâhis mother is in front of him.
Mitrof is screamingâhis mother is bleeding.
Mitrof is screamingâno matter how much he screams, the power does not awaken.
Mitrof already knew that no matter how much he screamed, he would not awaken a convenient âpower.â
That day, at that moment, there was no power within Mitrof to save his mother.
And now, there is nothing Mitrof can do.
The lightning rod he holds is starting to melt, and the leather handle is crumbling. Exposed to the rush of lightning, he can only endure.
But Mitrof is âwaiting.â
Alone, he could do nothing. He could only endure death.
Mitrof no longer believed in the âpowerâ within himself.
However, Mitrof was not alone.
He believed that they would come.
ââHis comrades.
Amidst the thundering torrent, he heard it.
the sound of something breaking. It was the sound of the âGuardianâsâ room door being struck with terrible force.
In an instant, the sound of cutting through the air flew.
It was an arrow.
As soon as the shooter entered, she decoded the situation and the arrow hit the goat-skullhead-oldwoman without missing a shot. The sword was lowered, and the thunder stopped. The arrow pierced through the old womanâs dark body.
âââAre you alright?â
Mitrof missed that voice.
Grace came running lightly beside him, sweat covering her face, her eyes shaking with anxiety and urgency.
âT-Thank youâyou helped me a lot.â
It felt like theyâd had that conversation before. That was, yes, the day Mitrof first met Grace.
âOnce again, youâve saved me.â
âItâs just part of helping each other out.â
âIâm coming.â
Canule rushed towards the opposite side of Grace. She raised her shield to defend against the lightning that flew towards her. But Mitrofâs lightning rod attracted the lightning toward it.
â...This is âelectricityâ. A shield wonât be able to stop itâwe have to catch it with this rod.â
âItâs a magic that simulates lightning. It should be quite advanced... But more importantly, Iâm glad youâre safeâweâll talk more about it later.â
At the cold and chilling voice, Mitrofâs back trembled. Clearly, yes, she was angry.
âIs that Blanc Manje lying over there unconscious?â
âY-Yes, she faintedâwe should hurry and take her to the treatment center.â
âDo you know Blanc Manje?â
âItâs a long story... Oh!â
He caught the lightning bolt that came flying in the middle of their conversation.
Despite having previously accepted death, the presence of these two somehow rejuvenated him. It was truly a mysterious thing.
â...You two are dependable.â
Mitrof whispered to himself, and Grace and Canule exchanged glances.
âWhat do you mean, saying such obvious things?â
âDonât worryâletâs take care of this quickly and then tend to both of you.â
And so, the three stood side by side, facing the goat-skullhead-oldwoman.
She was a formidable enemy. After all, she was a âdemonâ.
But now there was nothing left to fear.
Mitrof felt a strange âpowerâ flowing within him. He could move forward. He could fight.
âThere is no way we can loseâwe can win.â
âAlright, letâs go!â
In response to Mitrofâs voice, Grace takes the lead.
She pulls out an arrow from her quiver and shoots it accurately at the head of the goat-skullhead-oldwoman. The old woman avoids it, gliding across the ground, her coat fluttering with invisible magic.
The goat-skullhead-oldwoman raises her sword and generates a thunderball in the sky, about to swing her sword down.
Immediately, Grace shoots a second arrow.
As an elf hunter, she has lived for decades in the mountains, chasing and hunting animals in the wild. Therefore, shooting and piercing through a target moving only horizontally, with no trees or bushes around, was not a difficult challenge at all.
âââOh, no, it went right through.â
The goat-skullhead-oldwoman stops her sword mid-swing.
The arrow hit her but went through her body.
âBlanc Manje said that attacks wouldnât work.â
âSo, itâs a spirit, thenâit means we can only defeat it with magical attacks.â
âItâs a little tricky.â
In front of the three people who had stopped moving, the goat-skullhead-oldwoman shook her chin bone and laughed while singing, holding a thrusting sword aloft.
Mitrof pulled Canuleâs arm.
Leaning in, Mitrof spoke in a tone that carried the talents of a noble, commanding and compelling others to obey.
âCanule. Throw me.â
âââYes.â
âMitrof?!â
It was Grace who shouted.
Without hesitation or confusion, Canule merely carried out Mitrofâs orders. Immediately clinging to Mitrofâs body, with a strength similar to that of a troll throwing a rock, Canule threw Mitrof into the air.
Due to the curse that had turned her into a monster, Canule possessed strength comparable to that of a troll.
As Mitrof flew through the air, he controlled his posture. Holding onto the lightning rod and curling up his body, Mitrof prepared for impact. Thanks to his fat, Mitrofâs balled-up body resembled a sphere. He landed and rolled, tumbling down.
Pushing himself up with his arms and bouncing up, the goat-skullhead-oldwoman was already in front of him. The lightning was about to strikeâno, it did not strike.
The sword held by the goat-skullhead-oldwoman was not swung, and her magic was just suspended in the air.
âI knowâwhile youâre using magic, you become materialized.â
Mitrof, who had been watching silently, noticed. It was not just the goat-skullhead-oldwoman who learned through multiple lightning strikes. Mitrof had intelligence as well.
âIf you were to strike lightning now, you who have materialized would also get hitâwhat will you do?â
Mitrof grinned and swiftly swung the lightning rod he was holding. The hollow metal that had become brittle struck the thrusting sword held by the goat-skullhead-oldwoman.
The lightning rod finally broke due to the shock.
The thrusting sword was released from the old womanâs hand and danced in the air.
The tempo of the singing had changed. It was fierce, high-pitched, and it sounded like a curse.
âEmotionsâââThe lightning ball in the sky spread its branches violently due to the excitement. The lightning branches spread across the ceiling and shone brightly, illuminating the surroundings.
It no longer mattered who hit whom.
The goat-skullhead-oldwoman opened her jaw and screamed. She knew that the fragile human would die first trying to bathe in lightning together.
Mitrof knew that.
She struck the goblin soldier with her thunderbolt regardless. This creature was intelligent and had personality and consistency in her actions.
Reading, speculating, negotiating, and guiding the opponentâs personality are what nobles are good at.
There is a strange time when everything flows smoothly. The sharpened mind is refined, and the sharp concentration threads through the gaps in time.
Mitrof passed the broken lightning rod to his left hand and grabbed the thrusting sword in the air.
He swung the left iron rod. It was broken, but the chain remained.
A draw? Itâs fine. Itâs about who can endure longerâa patience battle.
The swinging chain became entangled with the thrusting sword.
Mitrof lowered his waist and braced himself, even if he had to face the lightning that was falling, showing his determination to never run away. He finally raised the beloved sword that had returned to his hand to the sky.
Thunder strike.
The lightning struck the thrusting sword used as a lightning rod. The impact was terrible. The view was pure white, and the heat burned from his shoulders to his feet.
The lightning passed through his legs and struck the ground in an instant.
Mitrof is still alive, standing with gritted teeth.
A side strike from the lightning rod in Mitrofâs left hand hits the goat-skullhead-oldwoman.
Screams echoed.
If it had been a real lightning strike, everything would have ended without a chance to breathe, and Mitrof would have died, with no âelectricityâ remaining anywhere.
However, this was magic.
The lightning burst all around Mitrofâs body.
Due to the goat-skullhead-oldwoman holding it for so long, the thrusting sword was contaminated with magical residue. The lightning that flowed through the chains enveloped the thrusting sword, briefly turning it into a magic sword.
Mitrof appears to have lost consciousness for a moment due to the tremendous lightning bolt. He did not fall, however, and he did not let go of the sword because âelectricityâ had paralyzed and stiffened his body.
In the pure white world, Mitrof watches a bird.
A magnificent and beautiful giant eagle approaches him quickly and strokes Mitrof with its soft wings.
Then consciousness returns.
There is the goatâs skull in front of him.
Reality.
Almost unconsciously, Mitrof moves his body.
steps forward towards it.
But he has no strength.
Almost falling, Canule rushes over and supports Mitrof.
He raises his arm.
The hand that grips the thrusting sword, with the lightning chain wrapped around it, trembles and almost drops it, but Grace rushes over and places her hand on his.
The residual âelectricityâ remained in all three of them, wrapped in thorns, and thus, the trinity of Mitrof, Canule, and Grace penetrated the goatâs skull with the thrusting sword. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 2,
"inserted_lines_src": 4,
"inserted_lines_trg": 2
} |
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ãããŠä¿ºãã¡ã¯è¥å¹²ã®äžå®ãæ±ãã€ã€ãæ¥åžžãžãšæ»ããããªãã£ãã | [Iâll list the conditions that have been met.]
The message flowed through my head.
[You have been confirmed to have reached level . Skills âªUnbloodyâ«, âªStrength Enhancementâ«, âªSelf-Regeneration (Weak)â«, âªBio Weapon Creationã»Axeâ«, âªAxe Proficiency Iâ«, âªEnergy Recovery (Weak)â«, âªSelf-Regeneration (Medium)â«, âªBio Weapon Enhancementã»Bloodâ«, âªHuman and Cavalry As Oneâ«, and âªBio Weapon Enhancementã»Fleshâ« have been confirmed.
More than , hours of riding on a specific mounted beast have been verified.
Trust level with a specific mounted beast has been confirmed.
More than 00 kills of hostile entities have been confirmed.
Confirmed experience of contact with â â â Su=â â â ãŒâ .
Confirmed experience intruding into the ââ â â Worldâ â.
The experience of returning from the underworld has been confirmed.
Vanquish of the Demon King, âWar-Mongering Multitude Squirrelâ has been confirmed.
Experience of combat with the Demon King, âPriest of Absolute Peaceâ has been confirmed.
Experience of serving the Demon King, âKing of the Devouring Black Mistâ has been confirmed.
Experience of contact with the half-Demon King, âBlade Princess of the Undefined Swordâ has been confirmed.
Specific Riding: Confirmed combat experience with Moyasuke, the Mist Demon Wolf.
Specific Weapon: Experience in battle with a bio-weapon, an axe, has been confirmed.
Specific group: Confirmed combat experience with âMercenary of the Mistâ and âMist Wolfâs Packâ...]
An immense stream of messages was flowing in. I had gained a lot of experience before I even realized it.
However, I could not read the contents of the two places. Though I was positive that those were related to the God of Calamity.
And then, when the message had been fully flowed through,
[From now on, based on the conditions that have been met, Kokoro Izumi will be transformed into a Demon King.]
Demon King transformation... So I will join the ranks of Kurokiri nii-chan and Ichiko nee-chan.
But I donât have to fear, you know. The God of Calamity once said that she cannot tamper with my mind. Then it is certain that my memories cannot be altered either.
Furthermore, becoming a Demon King and losing oneâs memory may not be directly linked to each other.
The carcasses of the wolves lying around us, as well as Moyasuke and my body, were encased in light.
[The link to the current master, the âKing of the Devouring Black Mist,â is severed.]
I can feel my link to Kurokiri had been severed.
Presumably, I was now no longer Kurokiriâs kin.
[The level and skills will be adjusted to match the level of the Mist King.]
An odd sensation swept over my body. Was it possible that my level has been lowered?
Indeed, if I become a Demon King at level 10, there may arise various problems.
[Skill integration has been finalized. âªMist Cloakâ« has been deleted. âªUnbloodyâ«, âªSelf-Regeneration (Weak)â«, âªEnergy Recovery (Weak)â«, âªSelf-Regeneration (Medium)â« and âªHuman and Cavalry As Oneâ« have been unified into a single skill, and the unique skill is âªPack of Wolf Carrying Life and Deathâ«]
âªPack of Wolf Carrying Life and Deathâ«... is my new skill?
I will need to review the effects later.
[The race has been changed from Kirijin to âLife and Death Carrier of the Pack of Wolvesâ.]
I felt like my body was literally being reconfigured.
âWoof!?â âEh!?â
Not only was I disintegrating, but so were Moyasuke and the surrounding Thin Mist Wolvesâ carcasses, which then clung to my body like particles of light.
âEh, wait!?â
[The status increase and the granting of the Demon King exclusive skills, âªMonster Createâ« and âªDungeon Createâ« accompanying the transformation into a Demon King will be performed continuously.]
âWhat...!?â
At the same time as my overall body was imbued with power, the light that enveloped me was absorbed into my body, while the light surrounding my whole body gradually diminished in intensity.
[The transformation of the Demon King has been finalized. Thank you for your efforts.]
And with this message, all light ceased to glow.
âThis is...â
I confirmed the changes in my body and status.
The clothing I was wearing earlier was gone, and in place of it was a wolfâs fur... rather than saying it was a wolfâs fur, I was wearing something that was made from various parts of my body... covering my chest and waist, and on my head was a hood that looked like a wolfâs head. Instead of being clothing, it was more like a piece of cloth that was wrapped around my body.
Metal chains were also affixed to my neck, right arm, left ankle, and waist as ornaments, which appeared to support the wolfâs fur. There were also adornments on my neck and waist chains that resembled a wolfâs head.
Also... I somehow feel that my ears are in a strange position and there is a strange sensation in my buttocks... I have a nasty feeling about this, but Iâll check this out later. If I have a look at it now, I will lose my cool and not be able to proceed with the explanation.
Even so, as expected of a Demon Kingâs status, my status was overwhelming. However, it seemed that I was restricted because I hadnât made my own dungeon yet.
But if I create my own dungeon, it is certain that I wonât be able to leave the dungeon like Kurokiri nii-chan.
âAfter that, what should be verified is...â
I made the decision to go out of the âGiant Tree that Threatens Heaven and Earth,â dungeon for the time being while familiarizing myself with my body.
âHow are both of your memories?â
I asked Ichiko and Ryo about Izumi.
âI can recall everything fine.â
âNot a problem. What about you, Kurokiri?â
Both of them replied with a relieved expression on their faces.
Therefore, this meant that transformation into a Demon King and memory loss were two distinctly separate issues. This was a piece of great news for both Ryo and Chirito.
âI donât have a problem either. The only thing is that during the process of conversion to a Demon King, there was a message saying that the link would be disconnected, thus completely severing our communication.â
âThatâs...â
âWell, Iâve already informed her before that Chirito is in Africa, so if she wants to come back to me, sheâll try to get in touch with him. Supposedly.â
At my words, the two of them exchanged anxious glances.
âSince this has happened, letâs leave things to take their own course. How it plays out is up to us.â
And so, despite our uneasiness, there was nothing for us to do but resume our daily routines. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 1,
"inserted_lines_src": 1,
"inserted_lines_trg": 5
} |
ãã¯ããããºãã©ã«ããéæ³ãªåœå®¶å
ã®åœå®¶ã®åç¶ã¯ãé»èªã§ããªãããããã¬ããã³èªäœããè匱ãããŠäž»æš©ã䞻匵ã§ããªãã®ã ããŸãäžæ¹ã§ãã€ã¹ã©ãšã«ã¯ãåœå¢æ²¿ãã«ãããããºãã©å建ããããã¯ããµã€ã«æŠäºèœåã®ç¶æãèš±ããªãã ããã | Yet Lebanon itself is too weak to assert its sovereignty. On the other hand, Israel will not allow Hezbollah to re-establish itself along its border, or to maintain its missile capability. | {
"source": "news_commentary",
"missed_lines": null,
"inserted_lines_src": null,
"inserted_lines_trg": null
} |
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ã«ã·ã§ã©ã¯ç¹ã«æ·±ãæ°ã«ããªãã£ãã | It has been a long time since the factories equipped with artifacts took over clothing production. Thanks to that, the commoners living in the present day could obtain clothes relatively cheaply.
âUm, Ms. Viola.â
âWhat is it!â
Naturally, the made-to-order system still remained as luxurious goods, but once the concept of âsizeâ came to be, the made-to-order retailers were overpowered and the mass retailers started to stock up on all kinds of things from cold protectors down to socks, and their customers simply chose what to buy from their selections.
â......What is this?â
âPanties.â
In the womenâs changing room of one such store which was slightly large like a locker room. Lucella was having a staring contest with the clothes Viola brought with her.
More specifically, with pure white underwear that was extremely lacking in the cloth area. Or well, it lacked cloth from Lucellaâs point of view.
Womenâs clothes might have generally been like this, and given his childish body, it may have been perfect too... maybe.
âLucella, did you really grow outside of the mountain? Arenât panties normally worn by civilized humans?â
âErr, letâs just say there are very complex circumstances involved here.â
âI was originally a guy! I never had to wear something like this!
Lucella screamed internally from the bottom of his heart.
Lucella removed her pelt and overcoat, becoming stark naked, and then gently put his legs through that unreliable-looking underwear. As it tightly clung to his body, it gave him an unfamiliar ticklish sense.
âFeels mysteriously adhesive.â
âWould you like to try on the bloomers too? They cover more body area, so it may distance you from the no-panty doctrine, but that adhesive sense will decrease.â
âDonât just brand people as no-panty religious believers.â
âThey donât allow to try on the underwear but I already bought everything so itâs alright. You would be needing several pairs anyway.â
Viola tossed loose, trouser-like underwear at him. The white bloomers that were dainty and soft like flower petals had a small red ribbon as an ornament on the front side. This time it was too big instead.
He went and put it on anyway, but it felt like he was wearing loose trousers over bare skin. Without longer trousers or a skirt, its hems would be visible for sure.
The underwear for the
part that he was handed over seemed like it was not much different from menâs shirts... but it felt a little loose.
Looking closely the chest part of it was slightly wider. The thin cloth was sewn apart under the chest part and it swelled out like a bag, giving a slight sense of roundness even to Lucellaâs body which didnât require that space.
âWhatâs with this childish and lame yet cute underwear... I feel like what Iâm wearing is worse than not wearing it at all...
Lucella was hit by an indescribable ticklish sense of embarrassment. It was better to just wear a pelt compared to this for sure.
âAre you fine with these clothes? Everyday clothes for girls are generally like this around these parts.â
Viola had left the dressing room while Lucella wasnât looking and brought clothes. The first was a white dress that could be used as loungewear too.
Above it, he wore a simple long cloth that only had a hole for the head which was fastened with a thin belt at the waist. It had a tartan pattern with a heavy focus on red, and it served as a coat.
Viola had dressed him before he knew it and was sparking her eyes at her creation.
Viola was speaking even more energetically than before now that Wein was not here in this woman-only area.
âIt just makes me want to dress you in red, despite the fact that it overlaps with your red hair. So, what does your dear mother think?â
Kafal, who didnât know anything about clothes, just stood and watched Violaâs work from the side. Seeing the dressed-up Lucella, she opened her eyes wide.
She gently touched Lucella, brushing his hair that had been combed and put into a slightly better shape. It felt quite ticklish.
âAnd what about your own impressions?â
âItâs better since itâs lighter than the pelt... but the ground feels unsteady and I canât calm down...â
âCome, look in the mirror!â
Lucella thought he could tell what he was wearing by looking down, but once Viola dragged him to the mirror, he swallowed his breath.
There stood a beauty decorated brilliantly in red.
Violaâs evaluation was by no means an exaggerationâ the girl in the mirror was pure and beautiful.
â.........Cute.â
Lucella muttered due to shock but then came back to his senses. Viola was grinning with a shine in her glasses.
âD-D-Donât misunderstand! I didnât mean it like that!â
âSo itâs not cute? What do you find problematic?â
âI mean, I would sound like a narcissist if I admit it...â
âWhatâs wrong with calling cute things cute? You have to recognize the reality for what it is.â
Cute things were cute. That was certainly the truth.
However, sensing his own cuteness was an unknown feeling for Lucella. His heart was beating faster than ever before.
Kafal asked while tilting her head.
âIndeed. When you see something lovely that you want to hug and cuddle up to, we call it
. Well, there are many examples and definitions for this word but...â
âLucella... cute!â
âMggh!â
Kafal leaped at Lucella with her chest and tackled, or rather, hugged her tightly. She seemed to have liked Violaâs idea to hug and cuddle her and did just that.
âCute... cute... cute.â
âHey, come on, leave it at that...â
But then, Kafal who was drowning in her cuteness suddenly stopped moving as if she came to her senses.
As Lucella wondered what was going on, Kafal, still hugging her, looked at the pelt that he removed and folded.
âNo, thatâs not the case!â
Lucella vigorously shook his head.
âI see, this is what Kafal gave me and what I wore all this time... I guess it would feel bad to toss it away just because I came to the town.
Thanks to the pelt Kafal gave him, Lucella managed to overcome the cold and maintain some self-esteem instead of running around naked in the mountains.
However, it was a different situation now. He couldnât walk around dressed like that in a human town.
âLook, the people are all dressed like this here... People, I mean, humans, have to dress according to the location. Just wearing a pelt isnât suitable in public, but itâs fine on the mountain.â
âOkay...â
âHuh? That wasnât what she was concerned about?
Kafalâs hands felt almost like they were clinging to her.
âCome now, letâs go and have everyone see it! As expected, my glasses were unerring! We have a peerless beauty here who can turn every head on the street in just everyday clothes!â
âWhat happened to not standing out?!â
Lucella got cold feet but Viola forcibly dragged her out of the dressing room.
The shelves lined up in the interior like that of a general store were displaying not accessories but ready-made goods, and a few customers were right in the middle of inspecting them.
The women who reacted to Violaâs voice and looked toward Lucella lost their words and even the passerby staff member did a trouble-take, while the parent and child who were not sure what to buy instantly decided to go with what Lucella was wearing.
âWhat do you mean by peerless beauty... What do you mean by peerless beauty?!
Lucella felt so embarrassed his face was burning.
It wasnât like he blundered or looked unsightly. He opened a door to a new world where he learned of a different type of embarrassment.
âYou girls sure are excited there.â
âOh, Tim.â
The armored man who should have been gone to question Gemel was in the corner of the store and was engaged in a conversation with Wein.
When he saw Lucellaâs appearance he gave a superb smile.
âOhh, thatâs really cute. Color me surprised... Huh, whatâs wrong?â
âNo, well... hearing your reserved impressions felt more objective and I felt like my escape got blocked...â
âEscape? What are you talking about?â
Lucella looked spent rather than happy from their compliments.
â...Err, did you find out anything about
âOh, yeah, I was just discussing that with Wein.â
Lucella decided to get to the main topic to try and forget about the clothes and this embarrassment.
âAccording to Gemel, he was never interested in
name and records forgotten and erased.â
âIsnât it pretty cold to be so unfamiliar of your party members?â
Wein shrugged exaggeratedly as if he couldnât believe what he was hearing.
It would be one thing if it was a temporary party member that joined for some goal, but it was rare not to know anything when it came to long-standing members... Lucella somehow knew that much.
Adventurer party members were in the same boat. Party members who entrusted their lives to each other not knowing about the others would need to have serious reasons.
âI already heard it in the guild, but
was apparently the manager of Seventh Dice.â
âA manager?â
âBasically he was doing stuff like the procedures at the guild and all kinds of odd jobs. So
got the adventurer qualifications and joined their party for that reason, but
I see, if he wasnât a member who fought alongside but instead a servant, that might make more sense...
Lucella started to think so, but it was still strange even then.
â...Isnât it strange? That nameless person got attacked and died to monsters in the middle of a quest, right? Why would a manager that normally didnât fight join on a quest?â
apparently joined them on that day alone for some reason. Seventh Dice did actually accept the quest during that time, but something doesnât feel right here.â
âIn other words... Are you saying they mightâve accepted that subjugation quest just so they could publicly attribute
âI really donât want to consider that, but...â
One of them seemed to swallow the saliva.
The conversation headed in a weird direction, the smell of intrigue drifting about.
died. If thereâs something fishy there itâs the guildâs job to investigate. Our goal is to follow
footsteps and gather information about the dragon language interpreter.â
âDo they really exist, though? Maybe the stuff about the dragon interpreter was just something
âIt seems that
wasnât known to be a liar, though.â
With no real leads on their hands, Wein was showing some anxiety already.
Lucella didnât know
either so he couldnât say for sure, but from the view of someone who had spent time with a dragon, he couldnât even imagine how anyone could learn a language so hard and half-doubted the existence of said interpreter.
âSpeaking of which, Lucella, Gemel asked...â
Tim started to say something but shook his head and disregarded it.
âActually, never mind. He was probably just curious.â
âHuh? Okay then.â
Lucella decided to not pay it any mind. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 4,
"inserted_lines_src": 30,
"inserted_lines_trg": 20
} |
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šå¡ãè»çŠãããããšãæ£åŒã«æ±ºå®ããã | In one corner of the capitalâs noble district, several figures had gathered. They were all dressed in different clothes and they also seemed to belong to different noble ranks but strangely, their unrestrained bloodlust was the only thing that they shared in common.
âBecause the girl has disappeared, the mansion must be in an uproar now. We should be able to lure out the person called Welner that Gezarius-sama was talking about if we attack the mansion and kill everyone inside one by one starting from the young ones.â
âRight.â
âWell, they all will die in the end.â
âI remember Welnerâs face. Donât eat their faces, so we could confirm that he has died.â
They all had the appearance of humans and yet the way they acted was far from human, as they finally decided to throw away their disguise. They walked until they could finally see the Zeavert mansion and rushed toward it. They were not affected by the darkness of the night.
âLetâs go!â
When the person leading them finally revealed himself as a werewolf and was about to jump over the wall, a shrill shriek resounded. Surprised by the sound, the rest of the figures stopped their track.
Then, arrows rained down, from the mansion of Count Stormer located in front of the Zeavert mansion and from the Zeavert mansionâs second floor. The devil who was supposed to be making a surprise attack ended up being overwhelmed by arrows.
At first, the sounds of the devilâs angry shouts could be heard but before long, those angry shouts were replaced by screams, and eventually, only the groans of despair could be heard.
âKeep calm and shoot. They wouldnât be able to escape.â
The person who was calmly giving orders from the Zeavert mansionâs second floor was Count Muhe. Muhe came to the mansion by posing as Ingo in the Zeavert familyâs exclusive carriage. He was entrusted with leading the reinforcement that came from the mansion of former Baron Diehl which was located behind the Zeavert mansion and he was also the commanding officer on this battlefield.
The butler of Zeavert mansion, Norbert, approached Count Muhe and offered him a cup of tea.
âPlease enjoy, Count.â
âI will. Thank you.â
After taking a sip, Muhe breathed a sigh of satisfaction with an impressed look. Then, Muhe asked Norbert, âOur enemies must have been constantly watching the people leaving and entering this mansion so how were you able to contact us?â
âIt was thanks to Welner-samaâs idea.â
By reflecting the light of a magic lamp using a mirror, a code containing a simple message could be delivered outside. After all, the reflection of the magic lamp was still bright enough to be seen outside of the window in the daytime. The table containing the key of the code had been delivered to the Royal Guards before and the people of Zeavert mansion also had this key.
The mansion of former Baron Diehl which was currently under the custody of the lieutenant of the royal guard was located behind the Zeavert mansion as such it was possible for Lily to use a mirror and magic lamp to send a message to that mansion.
After receiving Lilyâs message, the knights in the former Baron Diehlâs mansion discreetly sent messengers to various places. With that, the message reached Ingo, Welner, The Crown Prince, the Royal Guard, and the Palace Guard in the palace. Receiving the message, the arrangements were made in order for everyone to be able to move swiftly according to plan.
Although this was the first time Muhe was entrusted with the command of a reinforcement, Muhe didnât feel his job was difficult. After all, the plan regarding what would be done if someone came to seek out Mazellâs family using Mazellâs name had already been decided since the night of the day Welner showcased the prototype weapons. All Muhe needed to do was follow that plan.
âAlthough I did not expect that devils would appear.â
âEven His Highness and Sir Welner didnât have any definite proof that devils were still lurking in the capital but if they were, both of them said that now would be a perfect time for the devils to make any moves.â
Muhe responded to Norbertâs words. In fact, the plan was made just as a precaution, but the scene in front of Muhe proved that there was no such thing as being over-prepared.
The reason why Muhe of all people was chosen to lead the reinforcement was that Muhe had little to no relationship with the Zeavert house. Crown Prince Huber even considered the possibility that people who were close to Welner were being watched by their enemy so he chose Muhe.
And Count Muhe himself perfectly executed the Crown Princeâs order. On this day, all devils who were hiding in the capital were completely exterminated.
âBut Count, you did something quite bold.â (Norbert)
âThe effect of the caltrop when used on a stone pavement was tremendous. The clean-up would be a hassle though.â (Muhe)
In fact, he even used the excuse of âthe Count was coming home lateâ in order to ensure that unrelated people didnât visit Zeavert house during this time. Of course, if he still failed to protect the Zeavert mansion after all these preparations, he might lose his position... was something that Muhe knew but didnât say.
Considering the fact that the caltrops laid out by Muhe near the mansionâs fences successfully obstructed the Werewolves, the hassle of cleaning them up after was nothing much.
After the battle ended, Muhe also gave instructions to throw torches on the road in order to make sure that there were no survivors.
âSuppress them! Kill anyone that resists!â
Count Witthoft led the knights of his house to attack the mansion of Count Bachem. The Countâs knights were disarming the confused knights and servants of the Count Bachemâs mansion and from time to time, the knights of Witthoft house used the handle of their weapons and their fists to knock down the people of Count Bachem mansion.
Baron Kupfernagel who was accompanying Count Witthoft, Erdogan, looked at the Countâs rough way of dealing things with a bitter smile.
âI donât know what has happened but His Highness is also quite evil.â
However, even if it was under the order of the Crown Prince, once the news of how fiercely Erdogan attacked the Count Bachemâs mansion spread, the Witthhoft family would have a capricious standing in the royal court in the future.
A man, who appeared to be the leader of the Witthoft familyâs knights, was wielding his weapons on the battlefront. From his bearings, he seemed to be a young nobleman. The baron guessed that he was most likely the Countâs heir. Remembering the rumor of the heir in the royal court, the Baron could guess what was going on, albeit only from one aspect.
The Witthofts were a family of military men and Count Witthoft also constantly boasted about his sonâs military power in the royal court. But recently, his sonâs achievement in the military pale in comparison to the achievement of the heir of the Zeavert house. Because of that, either the heir or the count himself or perhaps both must have held some resentment toward the Zeavert house.
The situation of the Witthoft familyâs domestic economy wasnât good, a thing that commonly happened to the noble house of the military faction. Because of that, the Count was planning to marry his son to the second daughter from the Fleethem house, a noble house that belonged to the civil faction. According to the rumor in the royal court, the Countâs aim in marrying his son to a daughter of Fleethem house that belonged to the civil faction was the dowry.
But Valeritz, the heart of Fleethem County, was destroyed by the devils. This was a painful and unexpected blow to the Count as the destruction of Valeritz meant that the Count had lost his possible future financial supporter.
On the other hand, because of their trade with Lestlatga, Bachem houseâs financial situation was pretty good. But in terms of reputation and merit in the military aspect, Bachem house basically had nothing. In this country, that would make others look down on the Bachem house.
Zeavert and Bachem were both Countâs household, but while the heir of the Zeavert house was known as a capable military man, the Baron never heard anything about the heir of Bachem house, so it was quite easy to imagine how the members of Bachem house felt inside.
, it was quite possible for the Baron to guess the behind the scene circumstances of this battle.
âSo Count Bachemâs motive must be jealousy toward the Zeavert house. Then, that jealousy was used by someone else. Although, I think Count Bachem must have never expected his
But for the Baron, a feeling of pity toward the Bachem house wasnât needed. While instructing his subordinate to be careful so they didnât start any fire in the Bachem mansion, the Baron kept carefully observing the battle situation.
Later on, Count Bachem was arrested in his own chamber with his upper body naked. The Count was arrested together with a dancer from Lestlatga. The Baron was the one that ordered the dancer to be arrested when the dancer was trying to escape via the window.
As for the heir of Bachem house, he escaped from the backgate when Count Witthoft was attacking the Bachem house and was arrested by the guard who had been waiting for him. The heir was apparently trying to go Lestlatga embassy.
âYou impolite imbecile! I am the heir of Bachem house!â
âHow can you not understand that is exactly the reason why your action canât be forgiven?â
â...Your Excellency, Grand Duke Seyfart...?â
The heir looked up and saw Seyfart walking toward him along with his bodyguards. When the guards who arrested the heir wanted to bow, Seyfart stopped them. âI still donât know which one was puppet and which one was the puppeteer, but that would be something I would be able to find out in due time. Although that information is no use for me,â Seyfart said with a cynical tone.
âYou..Your Excellency... that...â
âHis Highness the Crown Prince is furious. Prepare yourself.â
The heirâs face paled at the Grand Dukeâs words. A statement like that from someone who had a position of a Grand Duke meant that there was no need for the guards to hold back. With an attitude as if they would not care if they had to break the heirâs bone if he resisted, they took him away.
At this time, Seyfart actually expected the Count to escape so he stayed in the mansion and helped to block the road. After all, it would be troublesome if the Count used his position to force his way through to escape. Never in his wildest dream did the Grand Duke expect that when the sun had gone down, the Count would be found in his room with a dancer. The Duke shrugged his shoulders with a complicated expression when he first heard this news.
âYour Excellency.â
âGood work. Howâs the situation?â
away turned his head toward one of the guards that called him.
âWe have received confirmation that Count Zeavertâs mansion is safe. The ambassador of Lestlatga has also been taken into custody.â
âHooh, the ambassador didnât try to run? He would be able to run to his own country if he used that magic tool.â
While putting his hand on his chin, Seyfart nodded, then he asked the guard, âAny other thing?â
âOne of the secretaries of the Lestlatga ambassador has revealed himself as a winged devil.â
âThen?â
âThe devil has been exterminated by the second squad of the First Division.â
After thinking for a while, Seyfart shook his head.
âWe can assume that the ambassador doesnât know anything about the devil. It seems like there is also discord in the Lestlatga. Well, thatâs for the Minister of Foreign Affair to worry,â Seyfart muttered, then he looked around his surroundings.
Right at that moment, a low, long howl of a beast filled with hatred and humiliation shook the capital. The palace and the capital became tense but nothing happened in the end. Just like the plan, the Bachem family was thrown into the underground prison as a sinner.
Later the same night, under the order of the Minister of Foreign Affair, the homes of Lestlatga people in the capital were put under surveillance and the Lestlatga people were put under house arrest. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 2,
"inserted_lines_src": 4,
"inserted_lines_trg": 17
} |
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ããã«ãäºãé¡ããèžã«èŠç·ã移ããšãåŠã«çŽåŸããåŸã§ã·ã§ãŒãã¯é ¬ãèµ€ãæããã
ãã·ã£ãã¯ãããããšèšããã°ããã«ããã·ã§ãŒãããããªããšåããæ§åã ã£ãã | âI was wondering if you werenât thinking of expanding to a branch for your restaurant. Ever since you opened, your popularity around the adventurers and merchants keeps rising and itâs looking really good for you.â
âThank you very much. But we arenât thinking of doing that at the present moment.â
The main topic was business talk.
He probably had thought they wanted to expand the restaurant since they were doing well, but in truth, the first day had not been the best.
And the number of customers they currently got was just perfect, if they had to attend to even more, they would be unable to keep up with all of them.
And Schenna was aware of that the most.
âWe would be lacking on a lot of fronts if we tried expanding. We would need to train the workers who would be in charge of the branch so they can cook and serve the customers correctly, and we donât have enough time for that.â
Schenna hoped that he would be satisfied once he heard her reasons.
But she had to convince him.
Not only that, but the restaurant had been built using the three thousand gold coins Reesha had lent her, so she could not just expand like that.
âWell, no, Iâm not saying you should make a branch right now. Iâm just saying that if you ever feel like expanding, to consider doing it here if possible.â
âIf thatâs what you meant... Though I canât promise anything yet.â
âFeel free to come anytime you want, I always welcome well educated and strong people like you! I really have to give props to Reesha for finding you.â
Will stood up and shook hands with Schenna, he had been able to grasp Schennaâs situation.
It felt nice to talk with someone like Will who expressed his ideas clearly, and his honest appearance really made him seem like a member of the Heroâs party, Schenna thought.
âIf Iâm free enough, Iâll drop by your restaurant. Iâll be expecting good food there.â
âMm, weâll be waiting for you.â
When they were done talking, Will accompanied them to the exit of the entertainment facilities.
When they were mixed in the crowd of the commercial district, Kishana seemed to finally be able to calm down and some color returned to her face.
âAre you okay now? I can carry you on my back if itâs hard for you.â
âIâm good now. And if you carry me, my chest will press on your back and make you uncomfortable, wonât it?â
âY-you...idiot! I was only saying that to be kind and because I was worried. I wasnât thinking of anything like that.â
âPff...Ahahah. You replied just like I thought you would.â
Kishana had become her usual self again, teasing Schenna like she normally did.
With a mischievous smile, Kishana deftly navigated through the crowd while Schenna tried to chase after her.
It was like they had returned to their innocent days, running through the crowd until they arrived at the apartment they shared in the residential district.
âHahh... Itâs been so long since I last ran at full speed that Iâm tired now.â
âSame... It was like playing catch after who knows how long, but it was fun.â
They sat down on some steps on the alley and started laughing when they saw each otherâs faces.
âWas running through a crowd a skill particular to dark elves in fantasy stories as well?â
âI donât know. But compared to that world, here I have this chest so I feel like Iâm slower than I used to be.â
â...I also have a chest here, I probably am slower too then...â
After that, both their gazes shifted to their chest, and after nodding Schenna suddenly blushed.
Kishana laughed it off, apparently taking it as Schenna just acting like she normally did. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 0,
"inserted_lines_src": 0,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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ã¬ã€ãã®å§¿ãããŠããªã俺ã«ããã³ã«ãšåŒã³æããŠããããªã¢ã | Wrapped in unfamiliar clothes, I, feeling tense, stood in front of the door. The door in front of me creaked open.
For a small church in this remote area, the door was quite magnificent.
Beyond it, the villagers of this village had gathered. Their gazes concentrated on me as the door opened.
â...!?â
In Nicoleâs state, I was used to being the center of attention, but in this Reidâs body, I was hardly noticed. So, for a moment, my body stiffened.
Tearing my feet from the floor, I moved forward. As all the visitors saw me start to move, they erupted into applause.
The pulpit where Maria usually delivered sermons had been removed. Instead, Maria, adorned in more luxurious vestments than usual, stood with Ashella assisting her. Behind them, Lyell, dressed in unfamiliar holy knight attire, was present.
As I stepped forward towards Maria, she let out a small smile.
âYou look quite good in that formal attire.â
I usually preferred dark navy coats or clothes with dark hues, but on this day, I was clad in a white formal suit.
Of course, when I was Nicole, I favored the uniform of the magic academy or clothes with a similar design. But not on this day.
Wearing a predominantly white formal suit that was impossible to ignore; it was a color scheme I would never choose in my everyday life.
âAt last... we can proceed with your wedding.â
âLooks like I made you wait.â
With a radiant smile, Maria declared. For her, it was a calculation that she had been waiting for twenty-six years from my previous life. Yes, today was the day for the wedding ceremony between Cortina, Finia, and me.
The fact that I was in Reidâs appearance from my previous life, wearing an unfamiliar white outfit, and the influx of acquaintances from both my past and present livesâall of it was for the sake of the wedding.
In addition to the villagers, the guest seats were filled with not only Gadius and Maxwell but also Letina and Michelle, and others. Those who had connections with meâas in, Nicoleâgathered in large numbers.
Even Whitey and Master, the Wind God were here, making it a chaotic spectacle.
âI never expected even the gods to show up. Quite the development we have here.â
âJust leave them be. Theyâre the type to show up anywhere.â
Next to the figure in white and my master, even the Guild Master from Stollar was in attendance. Apparently, she was also acquainted with Whitey. She stood beside Whitey, munching on a cookie held in her hand. She was completely in a spectator position, enjoying the show.
As we were talking, the grand doors opened again, and Cortina and Finia entered.
I turned to look at them and was momentarily struck. There was Finia, clad in an elegant long dress, and Cortina, in a lively dress with a shorter hem, creating a contrasting impression.
Between them, Fina âadorned in a cute dressâ accompanied them, scattering flower petals on the road for the two as she led the way.
She was desperately scattering the petals, but as they ran out, she stopped and started looking around in a fluster. Her cute appearance was truly fitting for my sister.
However, it couldnât be left unattended. As I pondered what to do, one of the guests handed a basket to Fina.
Then, they gave a thumbs-up to Cortina.
It seemed like this situation was already anticipated by her.
âThank you!â
âYouâre welcome.â
The guest responded to Finaâs energetic voice. Their voices echoed within the cathedral, and laughter could be heard from various places.
Cortina and Finia, who had come right in front of me, left me speechless as I continued to gaze at them in awe.
Seeing me in such a daze, the two exchanged glances and chuckled softly.
âIâve never seen Lord Reid with that expression before.â
âWhy are you looking so half-asleep?â
âI mean, you two look so beautiful...â
I uttered it as if squeezing it out. The two blushed, with Finia bowing her head and Cortina turning her gaze away.
Indeed, Finia exuded a mysterious beauty, almost too beautiful to touch. Cortina, on the other hand, displayed an innocent and charming allure, creating an atmosphere that made one want to dote on her, unlike Finia.
âOh, Finia, you look beautiful. Like a goddess.â
âG-Goddess, you say...â
In response to my words, Finia glanced briefly at the guest seats behind her. There, Whitey, nibbling on cookies like a squirrel, was present.
I see, being treated on par with âthat thingâ might not be very desirable. Reconsidering, I corrected myself.
âRetracting my previous statement. You look as beautiful as an angel.â
âAh, thank you.â
This time, she returned with a beaming smile. Nevertheless, she has become quite bold these days, even feeling displeasure at being likened to Whitey.
âHey, do I get anything?â
âCortina, youâre cute like a fairy.â
âW-Wha... Then say so from the beginning!â
âYouâve become able to say such things huh, Reid? How moving.â
âIâve gained enough experience to understand a womanâs heart.â
âBy actually becoming a woman, right?â
âShut up! Donât bring that up!â
Even I understood enough to compliment a bride. I expressed my thoughts, and Maria teased me. However, in my past life, I couldnât even manage that. Mariaâs words, in a sense, were correct.
âWell then, letâs stop the lovey-dovey talk and start the ceremony.â
Maria clapped her hands and cheerfully announced. While I agreed with her sentiment, her tone was so light, as if she were about to start preparing dinner, and it didnât quite match the solemn atmosphere of the occasion.
Yet pointing that out also felt tactless, so I remained silent.
Cortina and Finia stood beside me, and in front of us, Maria began to recite the solemn words of the wedding ceremony.
âGroom Reid. Do you solemnly swear to love and protect both Cortina and Finia in health and sickness?â
Awkwardly and gruffly, I responded, and Cortinaâs elbow jabbed into my side.
Glancing sideways at her, I noticed a sharp, penetrating gaze.
âI mean, I swear.â
âVery well. Now, brides Cortina, Finia... do...you...â
Suddenly, Mariaâs voice began to falter.
Wondering what was happening, I looked at her face. It was contorted as if she were about to burst into tears.
âMaria, whatâs wrong? Are you feeling unwell!?â
âYou... yo... waahh...â
âWhat the?! Maria?â
Even Cortina started to panic at this unusual sight.
Maria was an incredibly persevering woman, never showing her pain. During the Evil Dragon extermination and during Kufarâs attack, she faced the situation looking earnest, but she never shed tears.
Seeing her with tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, enduring something, was an abnormal situation for us who had known her for a long time.
âWaaaaaaaaahhhh!â
âHey, whatâs wrong!?â
âLady Maria!?â
As Maria finally broke down into tears, Cortina and Finia exclaimed in bewilderment.
Meanwhile, I was frozen, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.
âHow can I not cry! I get to officiate Cortinaâs ceremony! Iâm so happy about this that I...â
â...Oh, thatâs why.â
It seemed Maria had become overwhelmed with emotion and started crying.
Understanding this, Cortina let out a sigh of exasperation. Thinking about it, officiating the ceremony for the two girls who had been as close as sisters to her ever since my past life has held special meaning for Maria. I could understand her feelings, but having the ceremony come to a halt was highly inconvenient.
âOh dear, I did anticipate it would end up like this. Oh well. In that case, Iâll step in as a substituteââ
As Maria began to cry, Pope Ashella, who was assisting, stepped forward to officiate the ceremony in her place. However, at a speed that even I might have missed, Maria smacked her on the back of the head.
âIâm the one who will officiate Tina and Finiaâs ceremony! I wonât let even the Pope take over for this!â
âWait, is it okay for you to smack that same Pope like that...?â
We turned our horrified gazes to the collapsed and motionless Pope on the floor. If the Pope died from such a silly retort, it would be beyond embarrassing.
Ignoring my concerns, Pope Ashella abruptly got up and returned to her original position.
âItâs okay. Sheâs surprisingly sturdy. Probably influenced by her grandma who was an adventurer.â
âR-really?â
âYeah. Ah geez, the ceremony has already gone haywire.â
âMainly because of you.â
âHow troublesome. Reid, just hurry up with the kiss and seal the deal.â
I couldnât help but voice a retort at her straightforwardness. However, Cortina grabbed my neck and forcefully turned my face toward her, pressing her lips against mine.
âPfft. I agree; I want to get this stiff ceremony over with.â
Next, Finia hung onto my neck and kissed me as well.
âI agree with Lady Cortina. With so many eyes on us, I canât fully, umm...â
As Finia spoke, she intertwined her fingers and stumbled over her words.
She seemed to have become more assertive lately. While it was a welcome development, it was embarrassing for me in public.
âFinia... No, itâs nothing.â
If it were the usual Finia, she wouldnât have taken such bold actions.
Perhaps she, too, was getting carried away by the situation.
âWith this, the marriage vows have been made. Blessings to the three!â
As Maria spoke, cheers erupted from the spectators.
Alongside the cheers, there were faint murmurs of envy from a few men. They were all smiles when I was in Nicoleâs form, though. They were really something.
Responding to the cheers, I turned around and raised my hand. However, my line of sight suddenly lowered in height.
Upon looking down, my body had returned to its usual form as Nicole.
There should have been some pain when undoing the transformation magic, yet there was none. It happened abruptly.
âIf itâs a wedding, you should participate in the appropriate form, right?â
Hearing a voice that evoked a somewhat smug expression, I reflexively felt irritated. However, that wasnât my main concern right now.
The reason being that Nicole and Reid had significantly different body sizes.
Even in height alone, Nicole was about twenty centimeters shorter than Reid.
Yet, her chest was larger than Reidâs. And the result of that...
The white wedding suit was now loose and baggy, and my chest was cramped.
Of course, I didnât wear womenâs underwear, so the silk shirt clearly outlined the shape of the chest. The spectators erupted in cheers, but this time, it carried a different meaning.
As I squatted down, covering my chest with my arms, I could hear not only male cheers but also female voices.
âNicole in menâs clothing... looks great!â
âNicole, youâre so cool and cute. Oh, donât you look, Cloud.â
âNicole in menâs clothing, this will make some interesting ero fanfic material.â
In the front row, there were Letina and Michelle. The last comment seemed to be from the Stollarâs Guild Master, who was next to Whitey.
âW-Whitey! You littleâ!?â
I shouted and lunged at her. However, Whitey seemed to anticipate the move, gracefully dodging me and pushing open the main door, flying outside.
Originally, we were supposed to be the first to come out from there, receiving blessings from the waiting audience. However, with the sudden appearance of Whitey, the crowd was left wide-eyed.
Following that, it was not me as Reid but as Nicole who came out, further adding to the confusion among the spectators.
âHuh, what? Whatâs going on?â
âWerenât Lady Cortina and Finia supposed to come out?â
âA girl in white and... Nicole?â
âIn menâs clothing? That looks nice.â
The audience, whether confused or oddly composed, expressed various unexpected reactions. Behind me, Mariaâs exasperated voice reached my ears.
âHey, Nicole! Isnât the ceremony ruined now!? You really canât hold still for a moment, can you!â
Maria called out to me, addressing me as Nicole now that I was no longer in Reidâs form. Being called as such made me strangely happy. After all, for her, I was a daughter first and Reid second. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 9,
"inserted_lines_src": 25,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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å¿è«ããããªäºã¯èš±ãããªãã®ã ãã | âWoof woof woof woofâªâ
A wolf that seemed to be a pet was being brushed by a girl with wolf ears in the midst of a vast meadow while she hummed.
Time seemed to be flowing slowly over the entire area as there was a gentle breeze blowing through the meadow and white clouds leisurely drifting across the blue sky, creating a tranquil scene.
âYeah. Itâs beautiful, isnât it? Moyasuke.â
âWoof!â
Even though the wolf was lying flat, the fact that it was a massive animal towering taller than meters was the only thing that seemed out of the ordinary.
âIzumi. Can I talk to you for a minute?â
âHmm? Mol nee-san?â
At this point, a metallic door that was out of proportion to the meadow suddenly materialized, and a womanâthe âAdministratorââwearing a rag-like hood cloak and concealing her face with a gas mask-like device emerged from the end of the door.
âWhat do you need me for?â
âOh, I need you to search for something.â
âSearching?â
âRight. The truth is, I and that woman should be the ones searching for it, but as you know my search skills and she doesnât seem to be interested in working with me. I mean, sheâs not even going to look for something that she made herself...â
The girl with the wolf earsâIzumi inwardly thought that her ranting had started again, but she sank down into the wolf fur that she called Moyasuke, and while checking the feel of the fluffy fur, she listened to the âAdministratorâ continuing to complain on her own.
The âAdministratorâ eventually sighed as though she had finished venting her grievances, and Izumi then started to speak.
âWhat do you ultimately need from me then? And you didnât request assistance from Oli nee-san?â
âHmm? Oh, Iâm sorry. I guess I was complaining too much. The request is summarized in the paper over here, and I have already asked the âThousand Worldsâ to cooperate, and the result is the world described in the paper over here.â
The âAdministratorâ handed a piece of paper to Izumi, who then read it.
Although it seemed to be a standard sheet of high-quality paper, it was actually a type of information storage media that apparently held more information than could be fit on a single sheet of paper.
âHmm... isnât this bad? About this.â
âItâs bad. So I told that guy to work, but that guy wouldnât listen to me.â
âThat sounds very much like Ebri nee-san...â
Izumi, who had seen the information on the paper she received, internally broke out in a cold sweat to ascertain whether they shared a common understanding of the danger of the information contained in the paper.
âSo, according to âThousand Worldsâ, it is certain that it is here in this world, but since the entire world is covered with a barrier to conceal it, we donât have any further information. Thatâs why Iâve asked you to help me this time.â
Izumi mused over the information written on the paper while she listened to the âAdministratorâsâ remarks.
And one item in particular... she repeated over and over again in her mind was a sentence.
[In this world, it has been confirmed that souls are collected from many worlds and released under the pretext of purification. Therefore, there is a strong possibility that a God who possesses the power of reincarnation exists in this world as the supreme God.]
âCollecting souls...?â
âIâm glad youâre motivated.â
âYeah. I will be going there. Perhaps what I am searching for is there.â
At the words of the âAdministrator,â Izumi flashed a ferocious smile reminiscent of a mighty beast, and the giant wolf known as Moyasuke stood up.
âThen, please take care of it.â
âYeah. Letâs go, Moyasuke.â
Izumi and Moyasuke then created another gate, the same one used by the âAdministratorâ to enter, and headed for the space beyond it, where a huge bridge-like structure was constructed.
â â â â â
âAre you certain of this?â
âY-Yes. Without a doubt.â
In a different place, in a room of a Multidimensional Trading Company Complex, Spine was nervously confronted by a woman with light blue hair and purple eyes dressed in a sensational costume.
I-Itâs impossible! Itâs true that I was told to contact the president directly, but itâs beyond crazy to expect the presidentâs first-class fissure to show up on my doorstep!?
Furthermore, he was extremely alarmed and even in dread for his life on the inside. Given his position and aptitude, it was only expected.
âAnd this is the compensation for this case?â
In the hand of the female president of the... Multidimensional Trading Company Complex, a single ribbon was held in her hand.
That ribbon was a form of divine treasure that was clearly the creation of the God in the eyes of anybody and was imbued with magic power that was terrifying from Spineâs perspective.
âA ribbon that gives the wearer powerful regenerative and healing powers? An egocentric person may declare themselves to be the son of God with just one of this.â
âY-Yes, thatâs right...â
Spine answered the president with apparent apprehension.
âWe could, nevertheless, bring this stuff up for sale in the proper location or loan it out as equipment as required. The issue is that the work we were given would not be sufficient to offset the expense of the prior task. It is inevitable if that is the case. Iâll make a few accommodations here and there. Hisho.â
âYou called?â
âNotify the Warding Squad. Limit the subject to low-level God class and set up a time-phased transition barrier around R-I-C world at a level that will not cause any discomfort. Also, notify the Observation Squad to investigate the identity of any deity that comes into contact with the time-phased transition barrier on R5-I14-C01, and contact the âGod of Reincarnationâ via Lowizc.â
âAre you sure to limit her to low-level God?â
âThe compensation would be disproportionate if we were dealing with intermediate-level Gods or above, and considering the level of our Warding Squad in the first place, I would have no choice but to emerge myself.â
âI understand. I will do so.â
With that, Hisho left the place.
âSpine.â
âY-Yes!â
âYou know this is about the âTowerâ. You and Lowizc must be careful.â
âI-I understand!!â
Only Spine remained in the space when the president left as well.
â...â
Speaking of Spine, he was inwardly thinking.
Iâm going to take a paid vacation and withdraw!? This timeâs climax is too frightening, isnât it?
Of course, that was not allowed to happen.
ââââââ | {
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俺ããªã¢ã«ã§éŠ¬ãªããŠä¹ã£ãããšãªãã......! | I arrived... This is where the Sagittarius Trial would take place.
It was just a vast field of grass.
And here, firing ranges for all kinds of ranged weapons had been set up.
I almost felt like I was at a fair.
âNow, everyone! Grab your favorite weapon and enjoy hitting the targets-nyon!â
Charin was wearing a hakama and carried a Japanese bow.
That being said, her hair was still blonde, so she looked more like a foreign tourist than someone from the archery club at school.
The trial was based on the Sagittarius constellation, and was simply about hitting targets.
Aside from guns, there were bows, darts, shurikens, boomerangs, daggers, hatchets, javelins and slings. Players could freely choose what they wanted and take on the trial.
While there were adjustments to the rules depending on what weapon you chose, in general, you received more points for hitting the center of the target.
You would throw or fire repeatedly, and if your final score crossed a certain line, then you would receive the Sagittarius medal.
As for the special reward, you had to complete an ultra difficult stage that was unlocked after getting a passing score.
In any case, there was no reason to think too deeply. Just aim at the center.
âSo, which weapon should I use...â
Well, it wasnât much of a question. Of course, I would use the bow.
What could I even use if not the bow?
And so I waited in line at the archery range.
As there were a lot of targets lined up next to each other, multiple players could take on the trial at once.
However, if there were too many players there, you would have to wait a little.
It made me a little nostalgic.
The archery range was always quite popular during festivals.
âUm... Are you Mister Kyuji?â
âYes, I am.â
Well, I wasnât surprised.
One of the reasons why I hesitated to use a bow at first, was because I knew that I would draw attention if I waited in line.
There were other weapons like guns that seemed a lot easier, so anyone who used a bow for this trial was likely using them as their main weapon during adventures.
And if they were archers, then they were even more likely to be aware of me.
Because people who threw axes and had no interest in bows would have forgotten about me quickly.
At this point, even the turf war seemed like it was a long time ago.
âKyah! So it really is you! Iâve heard about your exploits!â
âThey say that you killed a monster during a large-scale Scramble at sea, by yourself...!â
âNo, no, no! Who the hell said that!? Theyâre exaggerating!â
We had only won due to the help of other players and the Blue Sea Dragon.
In no way had I accomplished that alone.
At what point had the story changed...?
âOh, how insolent of me to be standing in front of you, Mister Kyuji! You can go ahead!â
And the players waiting in front of her noticed me.
âOhh! Itâs that old bow guy! You go on ahead!â
âWoah! It really is him!â
âIâve seen pictures of him! So heâs real!?â
âI donât want someone so skilled to watch me shoot, so you can go first!â
And before I knew it, all of the players who had been waiting in line were offering me their position.
Though, I think there were a few who were thinking, âI donât know who this old man is, but Iâll just go with the flowâ...
Well, it wasnât that I didnât feel grateful...but I couldnât accept it either way.
âPlease donât mind me. We should all just go by the original order.â
They seemed to agree, and they returned to their spot in the queue.
Things went smoothly after that. And after a little more smalltalk, my turn finally came.
I stood in front of the target and calmed my breathing.
With monsters, you had to shoot with a feeling of nervousness because you could die if you didnât shoot. So it felt really different to be able to shoot in a completely safe environment.
In any case, these targets didnât move like monsters did, so it should be much easier.
There would be no problem if I just shot like I always do.
The target was about meters away and cm in diameter.
You were allowed to shoot arrows.
You would receive 0 points for hitting the center, and less the further your arrow was from it.
The passing line was a total of 280 points.
In other words, if you got more than 70 points with each shot, you would be able to pass.
âAlright...letâs go!â
Kiririri...I pulled the bowstring and unleashed it with a shu!
And with a âsuton!â the arrow landed in the center.
I repeated this 4 times. I didnât need a break in between shots.
I just shot one after another. As calm as if I was just breathing...
â...Oh. Surprisingly, I didnât miss any.â
I thought that being in an unfamiliar place would affect my aim, but I had hit the center every time.
I didnât really know why, but archery just seemed to be a good fit for me.
âAmazing! I knew you would do it, Mister Kyuji!â
âUh, huh!?â
A round of applause erupted from the archery range.
Apparently, they had all stopped to watch me.
I had been so focused that I didnât even notice the change in sounds...
But the fact that I wasnât sensitive to my surroundings showed that I still needed to grow.
âUh, thank you!â
I wasnât used to being praised like this. And so I just waved my hand and left.
It felt weird. I wasnât some kind of idol. But I would feel bad if I left without saying anything.
Regardless, I would likely think back on it with embarrassment... But it couldnât hurt...being an old idol once in a while.
âWell done-nyon! It seems like no one can match you when it comes to the bow-nyon!â
Charin appeared out of nowhere.
Huh? So she recognized me?
âThank you. So remember me.â
âAI are just like humans, and we remember players who leave an impression-nyon! Especially since all of the versions of me are connected-nyon!â
I see. They are all the same Charin then.
So it was no wonder that someone with a strange playstyle, like myself, would be remembered.
âNow, the medal... But before that, will you take on the ultra difficult stage for a chance to receive the special prize-nyon?â
âYeah, of course.â
I would receive the medal along with the special reward.
It would feel good to receive them after everything was done.
âWell then, Iâll take you to the ultra difficult stage-nyon!â
The place that Charin led me to was a...stable.
âAs you may have guessed, you will be shooting on horseback-nyon! Yes, the combination of human and horse! Surely it is the perfect way to end the Sagittarius trial-nyon!â
Neeeighhh!
The horses seemed to agree with Charinâs words.
But Iâve never ridden a horse...!
No, maybe I have...?
It was...during the turf war.
I had ridden a horse-type monster called a âMach Horseâ that Hatake had let me borrow.
But Hatake had left such a strong impression that I forgot about the horse.
However, and perhaps I wasnât actually qualified enough to be making such observations, but...riding the Mach Horse was nothing like riding a real horse.
That monster had been designed for comfort when riding.
It was much faster than a bicycle, but there was hardly any shaking.
It almost seemed to slide through the field as it took me to the base.
Besides, I then got off and started shooting on my feet. So I had no experience shooting from atop a horse.
And I doubted that this horse...would be quite as comfortable.
This was NSO. While things were simplified a little, I was sure that they had prepared a very realistic horse-riding experience.
But I had never ridden a horse in real life...! | {
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ç®ãèµ€ããããŸãŸãžã«ã¯å¹žãããã«ç¬ã¿ãæµ®ãã¹ãã | I arrived at the impoverished village. ...Perhaps it would be more correct to call it a former impoverished village.
...The air had become much cleaner since I had last seen it.
There was no trace of the place I had visited when I first came here. The image of an unsafe and dirty place disappeared.
This was all thanks to Uncle Will and Rebecca and the others.
Rebecca was very grateful to me, but I didnât do anything. I just gave them a chance to reform the impoverished village.
The people in the impoverished village who took advantage of that change were much more amazing.
Slowly, I walked deeper into the village.
If Gilles was here, he would be at Uncle Willâs house.
I ran to Uncle Willâs house.
It had been a long time since I had been there, and I felt nostalgic. Meeting Uncle Will and Gilles in this village had changed my life.
â...Gilles?â
I said and went into Uncle Willâs house.
Oh...? Gilles was not here?
I couldnât find Gilles in Uncle Willâs house. He didnât seem to be hiding under the bed....
Where the heck did he go?
âI thought for sure he would be here...â
I left Uncle Willâs house and searched all over the impoverished village.
It was a surprisingly large village, I thought.
Surely it could even be suited to be developed as a military base.
As I went around and around the village, I saw a boy standing on an empty piece of land.
âGilles!â I shouted in my mind and hurried to him.
When I reached him, I slowed my steps and quietly stood next to him. Gilles rubbed his eyes with his right hand, as if sensing my presence.
He must have wiped them away, so I wouldnât see his tears.
âAlicia, you came.â
âYes,â I replied shortly.
Gilles gazed blankly at the empty lot. I waited for him to speak.
â...This used to be my house.â
â...I see.â
âThereâs nothing left. But thatâs okay. I have no memories of my parents, no home, but a place for me to go back to.â
Gilles said in a slightly trembling but clear voice.
â...It seems to me, however, that now that Alicia is here, I no longer have a place to go back to.â
âThatâs how important Uncle Will was to us, right?â
I didnât know what to say to him at a time like this.
I didnât know how to comfort someone who was grieving. I wouldnât want to even learn it.
I held the pride of being a Villainess. People might think I was stupid.
They might think that I should throw away such trivial pride. But I still needed this pride.
This pride made me the person I was today, so...this one point was absolutely unbreakable.
âI know I have to move on, but I donât know what to do. In my head, I know what I need to do, but my emotions canât keep up.â
As Gilles said this, large tears quickly started to shed from his eyes.
...No one could switch their mind so easily. But we had to.
They might call me cold, but I do believe that was the way of life for those in power.
âAlicia is strong. ...How can you be so calm?â
Gilles said as he turned his gaze toward me.
I decided not to cry anymore after Uncle Willâs funeral.
Maybe I was just strangling myself, but that is fine.
I slowly turned towards him. His moist eyes reflected my face. I tried hard to make a face that didnât reflect a weak girl who looked like she was about to cry.
â...Well, youâre right. We only need a moment to think of those who have passed away. Now we must think about how we, the living, will move on.â
âIsnât that a little cold?â
I could detect a bit of anger in Gillesâ voice.
âWhatâs the point of holding up your time for someone who died? Uncle Will isnât coming back, regardless.â
âI know that. I understand that, but still, Aliciaâs attitude is strange.â
Gilles stared at me with tears streaming down his face. I had not seen him glare at me like this ever since the first time I met him.
I guess I looked like a person without blood or tears. But it would be meaningless if I break down here, as well.
I would gladly be cold-hearted if I had to, instead of breaking down together with him.
âNo matter how much we scream, no matter how much we ask for it, they wonât come back to life, right?â
âI know! I know! But this doesnât make any sense! Because Alicia also loved Gramps as well!â
Gilles raised his voice at my words.
When I didnât respond to anything, Gilles shouted more as he held on to me.
âHave you forgotten how much Gramps helped us and even assisted in our growth! Did you forget how Gramps loved us?â
âThatâs what it means to move on, Gilles.â
I replied, interrupting Gilles.
Gilles was silent at my words. I looked him straight in the eye and continued talking.
âYou can be considered cold-blooded and emotionless. Positions make people feel trapped. ...You may think that a Villainess should live with more freedom, but I am not aiming for such a low standard Villainess.â
Our petty words and actions might cost the lives of many. A person in such a position must not dwell on things like this forever.
â...I know.â
Gilles muttered in a small voice. His voice sounded much more mature.
I noticed that Gillesâ tears had already stopped.
âBesides, I know that Aliciaâs been crying.â
âYouâre bluffing on the surface, but youâve been crying in your heart for a long time. Maybe I was just frustrated that you didnât share that pain with me. Iâm sorry I yelled at you.â
I shook my head slowly at Gillesâ words, as he continued.
âI have to grow up to be by Aliciaâs side, to serve her.â
â...Are you sure you want to serve a Villainess?â
âIt would be an honor to have a Villainess smile at me.â
With red eyes, Gilles smiled happily. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 1,
"inserted_lines_src": 0,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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ãææ¡ããããŸã! å°ãã®éã ããã»ã€ãªãŒã³æ§ãå·ã€ããã«æ³šæãåŒããŠäžãã! è©ŠãããäºããããŸã! ããã§ãã¡ãªããããããªãéã®éªéã¯ããŸãã! ã©ãã§ãã?ã
ã€ã³ã°ãªã¹ã¯é»ä»®é¢ãšã·ã¹ãã£ã¢ã«ããæã¡ãããã | OOOoooo!
Cyrene raised a shriek full of anguish from Cystiaâs attack.
Bodily fluids in the color of purple gushed out from the deeply pierced spear wound.
ãDrop dead!ã
ãNO!! Please stop!ã
Just as Cystia was about to deliver consecutive thrusts, Inglis rushed in, forcing her way through.
She rushed her to the nearby wall and pinned her back to it strongly.
ãKgh...! Donât get in my way, b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲! I have no intention to fight you now! That gotta be defeated fast before more damage is done!ã
ãYou are with the Ironblood Chain Brigade, arenât you?ã
ãSo what of it...?ã
ã...If only I killed you back then!ã
Should I do it now?Thought Inglis, clasping her fist tightly. When suddenly, another voice sounded out from behind her.
ãYouâre wrong, it wouldnât change anything either way. My comrades have Prism Powder with them at all times. Comrade Mimosa had brought her own.ãSince when did he get behind me?
She only then realized that there was a black gloved-hand grasping her own fist, as though trying to halt it.
ã......!?ã
ãBecause our plan to ambush her by manipulating the ex-Knights had failed, Comrade Mimosa made her move. She didnât even ensure her own safety. I respect her to no end for it.ã
ãWho are you!?ã
He was a strange man, sporting a black mask concealing his face, draped in a black outfit, completed with a cloak.
Inglis could only tell he was a male from his stature and voice.
However, she felt a hint of familiarity from the muffled voice he uttered.
ãI am one who leads the Ironblood Chain Brigade. As I have no name, you may call me however you wish. I hastened myself here in order to protect this land.ã
The masked man seemed to have no intention of naming himself.
ãPrecisely why. We indeed eliminate the Highlander, but the people of this region bear no sin. We canât have them be injured.ã
ãI wonât let anyone get injured, neither the people nor Lady Cyrene.ã
ãThere is no way to reverse the transformation. What are you even saying?ã
ã...I am thinking up one now. Donât get in my way.ã
Cystia made a beeline towards Cyrene.
ãI wonât allow you!ã
Inglis went after her.
However, she was stopped in her tracks by the black-masked man.
ãGet away!ã
Without a momentâs delay, Inglis threw her fist at him.
It was a blow with Ether Armor activated.
The blow packed more than enough power to render even a Hyrule Menace immobile but...
The black-masked manâs hand stopped Inglisâ fist, reverberating an earth-shattering noise as a result.
ãKgh...! What a heavy punch...!ã
All her punch had managed to do was push his hand back a little.
There wasnât a single person who could properly receive Inglisâ punch when her strength was enhanced with Ether Armor, up until now.
The world was vast. There were still people like this.
How fantastic. How very interesting.
Her warrior instinct yelled at her to fight with this person to her heartâs content...
But, now, she had to stop Cystia!ãGet away!ã
ãIâm sorry, but I canât let you go!ã
Black Mask overpowered Inglisâ fierce consecutive hits by devoting himself in defense.
All he needed to do was to distract her. He knew that full well and fought accordingly.
In the meantime, Cystia had made her way closer to Cyrene.
Before Cystia could even deliver an attack, she had to quickly dodge out of the way as arrows of light chased after her.
ãI wonât let you do it! Lady Cyrene is our friend!ã
Her arrows of light exploded into numerous smaller arrows in rapid succession so as to hinder Cystia from drawing any closer.
ãThen Iâll start with you!ã
Cystia diverted her attention and focused on Rafinha.It was then when...
ãL-, lady Cyrenee!ã
ãLady Cyrene, are you alright!?ã
ãAre you hurt...? Are you in pain...?ã
Rino, Mayumi, Chiko. The three endearing girls Cyrene took under her care.
So they havenât evacuated!!
They seemed to recognize this Magic Stone Beast as Cyrene, as they were getting closer to her out of worry.
Cyrene only thrust her jewel embedded palm at them, and it began to glow.
ãRino, Mayumi, Chiko! Run!ã
Rafinha shrieked.
ãOh no...! Stop it, Cystia!ã
Even with her full speed, Cystia wouldnât make it in time.
And Cyrene suddenly redirected her palm towards herself right before the ray was shot.
ãAh...!ã
That conduct alone said it all.
Faint as it might be, Cyrene still had her some of her own consciousness left.
She would put the children before herself, as long as the children were safe, she would even end her own life.
Her choice of action only spoke of the truth; that her desire to be of help to the Midlander was by no means a lie.
She thought and spoke too much of an idealism that Inglis even doubted that Cyrene had any hidden side to her.
Precisely because she is this kind of person, I canât let her get killed here...!
ãEther Pierce!ãA ray of Ether was released from Inglisâ fingertips, hitting Cyreneâs palm and redirecting the heat ray to the sky.
ãPhew...! Okay!ã
ãYouâre great, Glis!ã
ãThe hell are you doing, b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲!? That thingâs already choosing death by itself! Noble conduct; yet you didnât let it finish itself!ã
Cystia spoke ill of what Inglis just did.
However, even if she ignored what Cystia said, Inglis didnât know any method of saving Cyrene.
She knew, however, that she would definitely regret it had she let Cyrene die just like that.
Inglis also worried about how Rafinha would recover from it.
They had replenished their travel fund, they were going to continue their fun trip, feasting on meals all the while.
Inglis had been looking forward to visiting the town of Arlman, where the carcass of a Prisma was encased in ice.
If she had let Cyrene die just like that, this fun trip would no longer be fun.
Thinking along those lines, one thing popped in her mind.
Thatâs right... if I can get her away from here, maybe I can do it!
ãI have a proposal! Just for a little while, please draw Lady Cyreneâs attention without hurting her! Thereâs something I want to try! If that doesnât work, then I wonât bother you people again! What do you think?ã
Inglis said to Black Mask and Cystia. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 7,
"inserted_lines_src": 23,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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ããããšãããããŸã (ææ) (ææ) | Others know more about the living conditions there, but still think they're a necessary evil.
After all, where else would we put all of those children who don't have any parents?
But 60 years of research has demonstrated that separating children from their families and placing them in large institutions seriously harms their health and development, and this is particularly true for young babies.
As we know, babies are born without their full muscle development, and that includes the brain.
During the first three years of life, the brain grows to its full size, with most of that growth taking place in the first six months. The brain develops in response to experience and to stimulation.
Every time a young baby learns something new -- to focus its eyes, to mimic a movement or a facial expression, to pick something up, to form a word or to sit up -- new synaptic connections are being built in the brain.
New parents are astonished by the rapidity of this learning.
They are quite rightly amazed and delighted by their children's cleverness.
They communicate their delight to their children, who respond with smiles, and a desire to achieve more and to learn more.
This forming of the powerful attachment between child and parent provides the building blocks for physical, social, language, cognitive and psychomotor development.
It is the model for all future relationships with friends, with partners and with their own children.
It happens so naturally in most families that we don't even notice it. Most of us are unaware of its importance to human development and, by extension, to the development of a healthy society.
And it's only when it goes wrong that we start to realize the importance of families to children.
In August, 1993, I had my first opportunity to witness on a massive scale the impact on children of institutionalization and the absence of parenting.
Those of us who remember the newspaper reports that came out of Romania after the 1989 revolution I was asked to help the director of a large institution to help prevent the separation of children from their families.
Housing 550 babies, this was Ceausescu's show orphanage, and so I'd been told the conditions were much better.
Having worked with lots of young children, I expected the institution to be a riot of noise, but it was as silent as a convent.
It was hard to believe there were any children there at all, yet the director showed me into room after room, each containing row upon row of cots, in each of which lay a child staring into space.
In a room of 40 newborns, not one of them was crying.
Yet I could see soiled nappies, and I could see that some of the children were distressed, but the only noise was a low, continuous moan.
The head nurse told me proudly, "You see, our children are very well-behaved."
Over the next few days, I began to realize that this quietness was not exceptional.
The newly admitted babies would cry for the first few hours, but their demands were not met, and so eventually they learned not to bother. Within a few days, they were listless, lethargic, and staring into space like all the others.
Over the years, many people and news reports have blamed the personnel in the institutions for the harm caused to the children, but often, one member of staff is caring for 10, 20, and even 40 children.
Hence they have no option but to implement a regimented program.
The children must be woken at 7 and fed at 7:30.
At 8, their nappies must be changed, so a staff member may have only 30 minutes to feed 10 or 20 children.
If a child soils its nappy at 8:30, he will have to wait several hours before it can be changed again.
The child's daily contact with another human being is reduced to a few hurried minutes of feeding and changing, and otherwise their only stimulation is the ceiling, the walls or the bars of their cots.
Since my first visit to Ceausescu's institution, I've seen hundreds of such places across 18 countries, from the Czech Republic to Sudan.
Across all of these diverse lands and cultures, the institutions, and the child's journey through them, is depressingly similar.
Lack of stimulation often leads to self-stimulating behaviors like hand-flapping, rocking back and forth, or aggression, and in some institutions, psychiatric drugs are used to control the behavior of these children, whilst in others, children are tied up to prevent them from harming themselves or others.
These children are quickly labeled as having disabilities and transferred to another institution for children with disabilities.
Most of these children will never leave the institution again.
For those without disabilities, at age three, they're transferred to another institution, and at age seven, to yet another. Segregated according to age and gender, they are arbitrarily separated from their siblings, often without even a chance to say goodbye.
There's rarely enough to eat. They are often hungry.
The older children bully the little ones. They learn to survive. They learn to defend themselves, or they go under.
When they leave the institution, they find it really difficult to cope and to integrate into society.
In Moldova, young women raised in institutions are 10 times more likely to be trafficked than their peers, and a Russian study found that two years after leaving institutions, young adults, 20 percent of them had a criminal record, 14 percent were involved in prostitution, and 10 percent had taken their own lives.
But why are there so many orphans in Europe when there hasn't been a great deal of war or disaster in recent years?
In fact, more than 95 percent of these children have living parents, and societies tend to blame these parents for abandoning these children, but research shows that most parents want their children, and that the primary drivers are poverty, disability and ethnicity.
Many countries have not developed inclusive schools, and so even children with a very mild disability are sent away to a residential special school, The institution may be hundreds of miles away from the family home.
If the family's poor, they find it difficult to visit, and gradually the relationship breaks down.
Behind each of the million children in institutions, there is usually a story of parents who are desperate and feel they've run out of options, like Natalia in Moldova, who only had enough money to feed her baby, and so had to send her older son to the institution; or Desi, in Bulgaria, who looked after her four children at home until her husband died, but then she had to go out to work full time,
and with no support, felt she had no option but to place a child with disabilities in an institution; or the countless young girls too terrified to tell their parents they're pregnant, who leave their babies in a hospital; or the new parents, the young couple who have just found out that their firstborn child has a disability, and instead of being provided with positive messages about their child's potential, are told by the doctors,
"Forget her, leave her in the institution, go home and make a healthy one."
This state of affairs is neither necessary nor is it inevitable.
Every child has the right to a family, deserves and needs a family, and children are amazingly resilient.
We find that if we get them out of institutions and into loving families early on, they recover their developmental delays, and go on to lead normal, happy lives.
It's also much cheaper to provide support to families than it is to provide institutions.
One study suggests that a family support service costs 10 percent of an institutional placement, whilst good quality foster care costs usually about 30 percent.
If we spend less on these children but on the right services, we can take the savings and reinvest them in high quality residential care for those few children with extremely complex needs.
Across Europe, a movement is growing to shift the focus and transfer the resources from large institutions that provide poor quality care to community-based services that protect children from harm and allow them to develop to their full potential. When I first started to work in Romania nearly 20 years ago, there were 200,000 children living in institutions, and more entering every day.
Now, there are less than 10,000, and family support services are provided across the country.
In Moldova, despite extreme poverty and the terrible effects of the global financial crisis, the numbers of children in institutions has reduced by more than 50 percent in the last five years, and the resources are being redistributed to family support services and inclusive schools.
Many countries have developed national action plans for change.
The European Commission and other major donors are finding ways to divert money from institutions towards family support, empowering communities to look after their own children.
But there is still much to be done to end the systematic institutionalization of children.
Awareness-raising is required at every level of society.
People need to know the harm that institutions cause to children, and the better alternatives that exist.
If we know people who are planning to support orphanages, we should convince them to support family services instead.
Together, this is the one form of child abuse that we could eradicate in our lifetime.
Thank you. | {
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ãã©ãŠã³:ããããšãããããŸãã | Would you describe that as global citizenship?
Is that an idea that you believe in, and how would you define that?
Gordon Brown: It is about global citizenship and recognizing our responsibilities to others.
There is so much to do over the next few years that is obvious to so many of us And there is so much shared sense of what we need to do, that it is vital that we all come together.
But we don't necessarily have the means to do so.
So there are challenges to be met.
I believe the concept of global citizenship will simply grow out of people talking to each other across continents.
But of course the task is to create the institutions that make that global society work.
But I don't think we should underestimate the extent to which massive changes in technology make possible the linking up of people across the world.
CA: But people get excited about this idea of global citizenship, but then they get confused a bit again when they start thinking about patriotism, and how to combine these two.
I mean, you're elected as Prime Minister with a brief to bat for Britain.
How do you reconcile the two things?
GB: Well, of course national identity remains important.
But it's not at the expense of people accepting their global responsibilities.
And I think one of the problems of recession is that people become more protectionist, they look in on themselves, they try to protect their own nation, perhaps at the expense of other nations.
When you actually look at the motor of the world economy, unless there is trade between the different countries.
And any nation that would become protectionist over the next few years would deprive itself of the chance of getting the benefits of growth in the world economy.
So, you've got to have a healthy sense of patriotism; that's absolutely important.
But you've got to realize that this world has changed fundamentally, and the problems we have cannot be solved by one nation and one nation alone.
CA: Well, indeed.
But what do you do when the two come into conflict and you're forced to make a decision that either is in Britain's interest, or the interest of Britons, or citizens elsewhere in the world?
GB: Well I think we can persuade people that what is necessary for Britain's long-term interests, what is necessary for America's long-term interests, is proper engagement with the rest of the world, and taking the action that is necessary.
There is a great story, again, told about Richard Nixon.
1958, Ghana becomes independent, so it is just over 50 years ago.
Richard Nixon goes to represent the United States government at the celebrations for independence in Ghana.
And it's one of his first outings as Vice President to an African country.
He doesn't quite know what to do, so he starts going around the crowd and starts talking to people and he says to people in this rather unique way, "How does it feel to be free?"
And he's going around, "How does it feel to be free?"
"How does it feel to be free?"
And then someone says, "How should I know? I come from Alabama."
And that was the 1950s.
Now, what is remarkable is that civil rights in America were achieved in the 1960s.
But what is equally remarkable is socioeconomic rights in Africa have not moved forward very fast even since the age of colonialism.
And yet, America and Africa have got a common interest.
And we have got to realize that if we don't link up with those people who are sensible voices and democratic voices in Africa, to work together for common causes, then the danger of Al Qaeda and related groups making progress in Africa is very big.
So, I would say that what seems sometimes to be altruism, in relation to Africa, or in relation to developing countries, is more than that.
It is enlightened self-interest for us to work with other countries.
And I would say that national interest and, if you like, what is the global interest to tackle poverty and climate change do, in the long run, come together.
And whatever the short-run price for taking action on climate change or on security, or taking action to provide opportunities for people for education, these are prices that are worth paying so that you build a stronger global society where people feel able to feel comfortable with each other and are able to communicate with each other in such a way that you can actually build stronger links between different countries.
CA: I still just want to draw out on this issue.
So, you're on vacation at a nice beach, and word comes through that there's been a massive earthquake and that there is a tsunami advancing on the beach.
One end of the beach, there is a house containing a family of five Nigerians.
And at the other end of the beach there is a single Brit.
You have time to -- you have time to alert one house.
What do you do?
GB: Modern communications.
Alert both.
I do agree that my responsibility is first of all to make sure that people in our country are safe.
And I wouldn't like anything that is said today to suggest that I am diminishing the importance of the responsibility that each leader has for their own country.
But I'm trying to suggest that there is a huge opportunity open to us that was never open to us before.
But the power to communicate across borders allows us to organize the world in a different way.
And I think, look at the tsunami, it's a classic example.
Where was the early warning systems?
Where was the world acting together to deal with the problems that they knew arose from the potential for earthquakes, as well as the potential for climate change?
And when the world starts to work together, with better early-warning systems, you can deal with some of these problems in a better way.
I just think we're not seeing, at the moment, the huge opportunities open to us by the ability of people to cooperate in a world where either there was isolationism before or there was limited alliances based on convenience which never actually took you to deal with some of the central problems.
CA: But I think this is the frustration that perhaps a lot of people have, like people in the audience here, where we love the kind of language that you're talking about.
It is inspiring.
A lot of us believe that that has to be the world's future.
And yet, when the situation changes, you suddenly hear politicians talking as if, you know, for example, the life of one American soldier is worth countless numbers of Iraqi civilians.
When the pedal hits the metal, the idealism can get moved away.
I'm just wondering whether you can see that changing over time, whether you see in Britain that there are changing attitudes, and that people are actually more supportive of the kind of global ethic that you talk about.
GB: I think every religion, every faith, and I'm not just talking here to people of faith or religion -- it has this global ethic at the center of its credo.
And whether it's Jewish or whether it's Muslim or whether it's Hindu, or whether it's Sikh, the same global ethic is at the heart of each of these religions.
So, I think you're dealing with something that people instinctively see as part of their moral sense.
So you're building on something that is not pure self-interest.
You're building on people's ideas and values -- that perhaps they're candles that burn very dimly on certain occasions.
But it is a set of values that cannot, in my view, be extinguished.
Then the question is, how do you make that change happen?
How do you persuade people that it is in their interest to build strong -- After the Second World War, the IMF, the World Bank, the World Trade Organization, the Marshall Plan.
There was a period in which people talked about an act of creation, because these institutions were so new.
But they are now out of date. They don't deal with the problems.
You can't deal with the environmental problem through existing institutions.
You can't deal with the security problem in the way that you need to.
You can't deal with the economic and financial problem.
So we have got to rebuild our global institutions, build them in a way that is suitable to the challenges of this time.
And I believe that if you look at the biggest challenge we face, it is to persuade people to have the confidence that we can build a truly global society with the institutions that are founded on these rules.
So, I come back to my initial point.
Sometimes you think things are impossible.
Nobody would have said 50 years ago that apartheid would have gone in 1990, or that the Berlin wall would have fallen at the turn of the '80s and '90s, or that polio could be eradicated, or perhaps 60 years ago, nobody would have said a man could gone to the Moon.
All these things have happened.
By tackling the impossible, you make the impossible possible.
CA: And we have had a speaker who said that very thing, and swallowed a sword right after that, which was quite dramatic.
GB: Followed my sword and swallow.
CA: But, surely a true global ethic is for someone to say, "I believe that the life of every human on the planet is worth the same, equal consideration, regardless of nationality and religion."
And you have politicians who have -- you're elected.
In a way, you can't say that.
Even if, as a human being, you believe that, You're elected for Britain's interests.
GB: We have a responsibility to protect.
I mean look, 1918, the Treaty of Versailles, and all the treaties before that, the Treaty of Westphalia and everything else, were about protecting the sovereign right of countries to do what they want.
Since then, the world has moved forward, partly as a result of what happened with the Holocaust, and people's concern about the rights of individuals within territories where they need protection, partly because of what we saw in Rwanda, partly because of what we saw in Bosnia.
The idea of the responsibility to protect all individuals who are in situations where they are at humanitarian risk is now being established as a principle which governs the world.
So, while I can't automatically say that Britain will rush to the aid of any citizen of any country, in danger, I can say that Britain is in a position where we're working with other countries so that this idea that you have a responsibility to protect people who are victims of either genocide or humanitarian attack, is something that is accepted by the whole world.
Now, in the end, that can only be achieved if your international institutions work well enough to be able to do so.
And that comes back to what the future role of the United Nations, and what it can do, actually is.
But, the responsibility to protect is a new idea that is, in a sense, as the principle governing the international community.
CA: Can you picture, in our lifetimes, a politician ever going out on a platform of the kind of full-form global ethic, global citizenship?
And basically saying, "I believe that all people across the planet have equal consideration, and if in power we will act in that way.
And we believe that the people of this country are also now global citizens and will support that ethic."
GB: Is that not what we're doing in the debate about climate change?
We're saying that you cannot solve the problem of climate change in one country; You're saying that you must, and you have a duty to help those countries that cannot afford to deal with the problems of climate change themselves.
You're saying you want a deal with all the different countries of the world to cutting carbon emissions in a way that is to the benefit of the whole world.
We've never had this before because Kyoto didn't work.
If you could get a deal at Copenhagen, where people agreed, A, that there was a long-term target for carbon emission cuts, B, that there was short-range targets that had to be met so this wasn't just abstract; it was people actually making decisions now that would make a difference now, and if you could then find a financing mechanism that meant that the poorest countries that had been hurt by our inability to deal with climate change
over many, many years and decades are given special help so that they can move to energy-efficient technologies, and they are in a position financially to be able to afford the long-term investment that is associated with cutting carbon emissions, then you are treating the world equally, by giving consideration to every part of the planet and the needs they have.
It doesn't mean that everybody does exactly the same thing, to help the poorest countries, but it does mean there is equal consideration for the needs of citizens in a single planet.
CA: Yes.
And then of course the theory is still that those talks get rent apart by different countries fighting over their own individual interests.
GB: Yes, but I think Europe has got a position, which is 27 countries have already come together.
I mean, the great difficulty in Europe is if you're at a meeting and 27 people speak, it takes a very, very long time.
But we did get an agreement on climate change.
America has made its first disposition on this with the bill that President Obama should be congratulated for getting through Congress.
Japan has made an announcement.
China and India have signed up to the scientific evidence.
And now we've got to move them to accept a long-term target, and then short-term targets.
But more progress has been made, I think, in the last few weeks than had been made for some years.
And I do believe that there is a strong possibility that if we work together, we can get that agreement to Copenhagen.
I certainly have been putting forward proposals that would have allowed the poorest parts of the world to feel that we have taken into account their specific needs.
And we would help them adapt.
And we would help them make the transition to a low-carbon economy.
I do think a reform of the international institutions is vital to this.
When the IMF was created in the 1940s, it was created with resources that were five percent or so of the world's GDP.
The IMF now has limited resources, one percent.
It can't really make the difference that ought to be made in a period of crisis.
So, we've got to rebuild the world institutions.
And that's a big task: persuading all the different countries with the different voting shares in these institutions to do so.
There is a story told about the three world leaders of the day getting a chance to get some advice from God.
And the story is told that Bill Clinton went to God and he asked when there will be successful climate change and a low-carbon economy.
And God shook his head and said, "Not this year, not this decade, perhaps not even in [your] lifetime."
And Bill Clinton walked away in tears because he had failed to get what he wanted.
And then the story is that Barroso, the president of the European Commission, went to God and he asked, "When will we get a recovery of global growth?"
And God said, "Not this year, not in this decade, perhaps not in your lifetime."
So Barroso walked away crying and in tears.
And then the Secretary-General of the United Nations came up to speak to God and said, "When will our international institutions work?"
And God cried.
It is very important to recognize that this reform of institutions is the next stage after agreeing upon ourselves that there is a clear ethic upon which we can build.
CA: Prime Minister, I think there are many in the audience who are truly appreciative of the efforts you made in terms of the financial mess we got ourselves into.
And there are certainly many people in the audience who will be cheering you on as you seek to advance this global ethic.
Thank you so much for coming to TED.
GB: Well, thank you. | {
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ããããšãããããŸãã | It was lit only by the dim, green glow of the emergency exit sign.
This was the most exciting day of Vera's life.
She was the youngest concert promoter in Germany, and she had persuaded the Cologne Opera House to host a late-night concert of jazz from the American musician, Keith Jarrett.
1,400 people were coming.
And in just a few hours, Jarrett would walk out on the same stage, he'd sit down at the piano and without rehearsal or sheet music, he would begin to play.
But right now, Vera was introducing Keith to the piano in question, and it wasn't going well.
Jarrett looked to the instrument a little warily, played a few notes, walked around it, played a few more notes, muttered something to his producer.
Then the producer came over to Vera and said ...
"If you don't get a new piano, Keith can't play."
There'd been a mistake.
The opera house had provided the wrong instrument.
This one had this harsh, tinny upper register, because all the felt had worn away.
The black notes were sticking, the white notes were out of tune, the pedals didn't work and the piano itself was just too small.
It wouldn't create the volume that would fill a large space such as the Cologne Opera House.
So Keith Jarrett left.
He went and sat outside in his car, leaving Vera Brandes to get on the phone to try to find a replacement piano.
Now she got a piano tuner, but she couldn't get a new piano.
And so she went outside and she stood there in the rain, talking to Keith Jarrett, begging him not to cancel the concert.
And he looked out of his car at this bedraggled, rain-drenched German teenager, took pity on her, and said, "Never forget ... only for you."
And so a few hours later, Jarrett did indeed step out onto the stage of the opera house, he sat down at the unplayable piano and began.
Within moments it became clear that something magical was happening.
Jarrett was avoiding those upper registers, he was sticking to the middle tones of the keyboard, which gave the piece a soothing, ambient quality.
But also, because the piano was so quiet, he had to set up these rumbling, repetitive riffs in the bass.
And he stood up twisting, pounding down on the keys, desperately trying to create enough volume to reach the people in the back row.
It's an electrifying performance.
It somehow has this peaceful quality, and at the same time it's full of energy, it's dynamic.
And the audience loved it.
Audiences continue to love it because the recording of the Köln Concert is the best-selling piano album in history and the best-selling solo jazz album in history.
Keith Jarrett had been handed a mess.
He had embraced that mess, and it soared.
But let's think for a moment about Jarrett's initial instinct.
He didn't want to play.
Of course, I think any of us, in any remotely similar situation, would feel the same way, we'd have the same instinct.
We don't want to be asked to do good work with bad tools.
We don't want to have to overcome unnecessary hurdles.
But Jarrett's instinct was wrong, and thank goodness he changed his mind.
And I think our instinct is also wrong.
I think we need to gain a bit more appreciation for the unexpected advantages of having to cope with a little mess.
So let me give you some examples from cognitive psychology, from complexity science, from social psychology, and of course, rock 'n' roll.
So cognitive psychology first.
We've actually known for a while that certain kinds of difficulty, certain kinds of obstacle, can actually improve our performance.
For example, the psychologist Daniel Oppenheimer, a few years ago, teamed up with high school teachers.
And he asked them to reformat the handouts that they were giving to some of their classes.
So the regular handout would be formatted in something straightforward, such as Helvetica or Times New Roman.
But half these classes were getting handouts that were formatted in something sort of intense, like Haettenschweiler, or something with a zesty bounce, like Comic Sans italicized.
Now, these are really ugly fonts, and they're difficult fonts to read.
But at the end of the semester, students were given exams, and the students who'd been asked to read the more difficult fonts, had actually done better on their exams, in a variety of subjects.
And the reason is, the difficult font had slowed them down, forced them to work a bit harder, to think a bit more about what they were reading, to interpret it ...
and so they learned more.
Another example.
The psychologist Shelley Carson has been testing Harvard undergraduates for the quality of their attentional filters.
What do I mean by that?
What I mean is, imagine you're in a restaurant, you're having a conversation, there are all kinds of other conversations going on in the restaurant, you want to filter them out, you want to focus on what's important to you.
Can you do that?
If you can, you have good, strong attentional filters.
But some people really struggle with that.
Some of Carson's undergraduate subjects struggled with that.
They had weak filters, they had porous filters -- let a lot of external information in.
And so what that meant is they were constantly being interrupted by the sights and the sounds of the world around them.
If there was a television on while they were doing their essays, they couldn't screen it out.
Now, you would think that that was a disadvantage ...
but no.
When Carson looked at what these students had achieved, the ones with the weak filters were vastly more likely to have some real creative milestone in their lives, to have published their first novel, to have released their first album.
These distractions were actually grists to their creative mill.
They were able to think outside the box because their box was full of holes.
Let's talk about complexity science.
So how do you solve a really complex -- the world's full of complicated problems -- how do you solve a really complicated problem?
For example, you try to make a jet engine.
There are lots and lots of different variables, the operating temperature, the materials, all the different dimensions, the shape.
You can't solve that kind of problem all in one go, it's too hard.
So what do you do?
Well, one thing you can do is try to solve it step-by-step.
So you have some kind of prototype and you tweak it, you test it, you improve it.
You tweak it, you test it, you improve it.
Now, this idea of marginal gains will eventually get you a good jet engine.
And it's been quite widely implemented in the world.
So you'll hear about it, for example, in high performance cycling, web designers will talk about trying to optimize their web pages, they're looking for these step-by-step gains.
That's a good way to solve a complicated problem.
But you know what would make it a better way?
A dash of mess.
You add randomness, early on in the process, you make crazy moves, you try stupid things that shouldn't work, and that will tend to make the problem-solving work better.
And the reason for that is the trouble with the step-by-step process, the marginal gains, is they can walk you gradually down a dead end.
And if you start with the randomness, that becomes less likely, and your problem-solving becomes more robust.
Let's talk about social psychology.
So the psychologist Katherine Phillips, with some colleagues, recently gave murder mystery problems to some students, and these students were collected in groups of four and they were given dossiers with information about a crime -- alibis and evidence, witness statements and three suspects.
And the groups of four students were asked to figure out who did it, who committed the crime.
And there were two treatments in this experiment.
In some cases these were four friends, they all knew each other well.
In other cases, three friends and a stranger.
And you can see where I'm going with this.
Obviously I'm going to say that the groups with the stranger solved the problem more effectively, which is true, they did.
Actually, they solved the problem quite a lot more effectively.
So the groups of four friends, they only had a 50-50 chance of getting the answer right.
Which is actually not that great -- in multiple choice, for three answers? 50-50's not good.
The three friends and the stranger, even though the stranger didn't have any extra information, even though it was just a case of how that changed the conversation to accommodate that awkwardness, the three friends and the stranger, they had a 75 percent chance of finding the right answer.
That's quite a big leap in performance.
But I think what's really interesting is not just that the three friends and the stranger did a better job, but how they felt about it.
So when Katherine Phillips interviewed the groups of four friends, they had a nice time, they also thought they'd done a good job.
They were complacent.
When she spoke to the three friends and the stranger, they had not had a nice time -- it's actually rather difficult, it's rather awkward ...
and they were full of doubt.
They didn't think they'd done a good job even though they had.
And I think that really exemplifies the challenge that we're dealing with here.
Because, yeah -- the ugly font, the awkward stranger, the random move ...
these disruptions help us solve problems, they help us become more creative.
But we don't feel that they're helping us.
We feel that they're getting in the way ...
and so we resist.
And that's why the last example is really important.
So I want to talk about somebody from the background of the world of rock 'n' roll.
And you may know him, he's actually a TED-ster.
His name is Brian Eno.
He is an ambient composer -- rather brilliant.
He's also a kind of catalyst behind some of the great rock 'n' roll albums of the last 40 years.
He's worked with David Bowie on "Heroes," he worked with U2 on "Achtung Baby" and "The Joshua Tree," he's worked with DEVO, he's worked with Coldplay, he's worked with everybody.
And what does he do to make these great rock bands better?
Well, he makes a mess.
He disrupts their creative processes.
It's his role to be the awkward stranger.
It's his role to tell them that they have to play the unplayable piano.
And one of the ways in which he creates this disruption is through this remarkable deck of cards -- I have my signed copy here -- thank you, Brian.
They're called The Oblique Strategies, he developed them with a friend of his.
And when they're stuck in the studio, Brian Eno will reach for one of the cards.
He'll draw one at random, and he'll make the band follow the instructions on the card.
So this one ...
"Change instrument roles."
Yeah, everyone swap instruments -- Drummer on the piano -- Brilliant, brilliant idea.
"Look closely at the most embarrassing details. Amplify them."
"Make a sudden, destructive, unpredictable action. Incorporate."
These cards are disruptive.
Now, they've proved their worth in album after album.
The musicians hate them.
So Phil Collins was playing drums on an early Brian Eno album.
He got so frustrated he started throwing beer cans across the studio.
Carlos Alomar, great rock guitarist, working with Eno on David Bowie's "Lodger" album, and at one point he turns to Brian and says, "Brian, this experiment is stupid."
But the thing is it was a pretty good album, but also, Carlos Alomar, 35 years later, now uses The Oblique Strategies.
And he tells his students to use The Oblique Strategies because he's realized something.
Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it isn't helping you.
The strategies actually weren't a deck of cards originally, they were just a list -- list on the recording studio wall.
A checklist of things you might try if you got stuck.
The list didn't work.
Know why?
Not messy enough.
Your eye would go down the list and it would settle on whatever was the least disruptive, the least troublesome, which of course misses the point entirely.
And what Brian Eno came to realize was, yes, we need to run the stupid experiments, we need to deal with the awkward strangers, we need to try to read the ugly fonts.
These things help us.
They help us solve problems, they help us be more creative.
But also ...
we really need some persuasion if we're going to accept this.
So however we do it ...
whether it's sheer willpower, whether it's the flip of a card or whether it's a guilt trip from a German teenager, all of us, from time to time, need to sit down and try and play the unplayable piano.
Thank you. | {
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ãããã®åé¡ã«å¯Ÿãã解決ç㯠1 ã€ãèŠã€ãã£ãŠããªããããã¹ã¯ã€ã¹ã©ãšã«ãæ€éããå°åã®çµ±æ²»ã«ã€ããŠããã¬ã¹ãã人èªæ²»ã®ç¢ºç«ãèŠæ±ããããã¢ããã¹ã¯ãããæåŠããè²æ©ãšããŠããã¹ã®ä»£è¡šè
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è¡ããŠèŠãæ¿æ²»æäºãå§ãŸãã | Whereas Hamas has demanded establishment of a Palestinian administration to supervise the areas vacated by Israel, Abbas has rejected this, agreeing at most to a âmonitoring committeeâ in which representatives of Hamas will participate. In any case, there will be no âdivision of areasâ until Israel withdraws completely and the ruins are cleared away. | {
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ããããŠä¿ºãã¡ã¯ããã§ããææ¥ãæãåºãããšã«æåããã®ã ã£ãã | The class resumed once the classroom regained its calm.
The first class was the previously mentioned alchemical pharmacy. A class to make things like potions.
âAlright, letâs continue from where we previously left off. First, what is the type of plant that is used as a medicinal herb... Mr. Maximilliano, answer.â
âYes, uhh... we make it by mixing powdered Millud leaves with the Amur cork treeâs sap for disinfection, right?â
âMillud powder is for anti-inflammatory use. You forgot the ingredient that heals that essential injury. Miss Yowi, please.â
It seems that the previous boy referred to as Sullivan was called Maximilliano. He stood up and gave an imperfect answer in confusion.
The teacher then asked Letina to supplement his answer.
Letina pulled her chair without making a sound and stood up gracefully. She was a beauty in a different sense compared to Finia and Michelle. Her chest remained almost as meager as before, however.
âWe submerge bulrush pollen in a supplementary drug, then take it out and mix it with the aforementioned two drugs, pour magic power to raise the prompt efficiency and it will be complete.â
âYes, correct. Mr. Maximilliano, review the material better next time.â
âOkaay.â
âWe can also mix in jujube which has pain-relieving and fortifying effects. However, mixing that in is quite difficult, you should first do it as the textbook says.â
Following that, the teacher taught general salve and antidote formulas to the students. I noted them down in my notebook while whispering to Letina.
âI wanna inspect Cainâs room during the classes. Is there any way I can slip out?â
âHuh, that would be difficult. As it is the teachersâ job to make the students study, they are very strict at monitoring them.â
âThere must be a way. It would be hard to have Finia or Michelle do covert operations.â
âA careless girl like Michelle or Cloud would certainly be unfit for it. But Finia is no good as well?â
âWell, she is originally a maid. It would be hard for her to slip into a locked room.â
âThere is the Unlock spell though?â
âThatâs from the interference system. She canât use it.â
Finia specialized in the four elements by borrowing the spiritsâ strength, but she couldnât use the interference system spells, being quite the opposite of me.
Her magic was quite versatile, but using just magic to infiltrate would be too unreasonable. I was the specialist in such skills. And I would be worried if I let her investigate the room, so I had to be the one to go.
âYou will certainly be able to do both the infiltration and investigation easily, Nicole... Hmm.â
Letina started thinking once she heard my point.
If you were a student, you had to attend the classes. That went for the senior students just the same, so Cain should be in the class too now. And my extracurricular period also matched with Cainâs. In other words, when he was not present, I was also restricted.
âIf you do the fainting that you are so skilled at, you should have an excuse to head to the infirmary.â
âFainting is not something to take pride in, you know?â
âI know that, but you are the only one who can do it frequently enough to warrant that evaluation.â
âI think that is a very biased perception.â
I did faint frequently during my school days, but my constitution improved, and after continuous training, the present me no longer fainted so easily.
Letinaâs perception just remained as it was in the past.
âIâve been training myself as an Adventurer three years after that, so that no longer happens.â
âReally? I donât think oneâs constitution is something that can change.â
While we were engaged in that conversation, the first class came to an end.
It was a break before the next class now. Normally the students would have flocked to the new transfer like me, but the next class was about the actual compounding dosages.
We had to do it in a well-ventilated place, or the medical contents that evaporated in the air could poison us.
I was also guided by Letina to the compounding room. Then we prepared to create the previously-mentioned potion for wounds.
With potions, you had to condense and extract the medical effects with magic. For that, we had to prepare Magic Crystals too. The rest of the students had no time to pay me attention as well.
They all took their seats and prepared dry leaves and Magic Crystals for the lesson. Letina and I also did the same. Then the bell for the next class finally rang. The teacher also entered at the same time. He stopped at the teacherâs desk, then checked if everyone was attending, and quickly commenced the compounding lesson.
âWe created Millud powder the last time, so today we will work on extracting the medical efficacy from bulrush pollen and soaking it in the supplementary drug.â
The teacher in charge of this class was a timid-looking male teacher. He explained the compounding process in a businesslike manner and got to work.
âAmur cork tree is in the medical warehouse. I will have people who extracted the bulrushâs medical efficacy to compound the injury potion. Miss Nicole was not with us the last time, so have Miss Yowi share some of her Millud powder.â
âUnderstood. Letina, do you have some to spare?â
âIâm glad I made a larger amount. I have about three flasks of it.â
I took the spare powder from Letina and started extracting the efficacy from bulrush. I chipped off the pollen of the cylindrical bulrush that looked like candy on a small plate.
The powder drifted into the air which in turn got sucked out through the ventilation hole.
âCough! It does drift up surprisingly a lot.â
âIt seems like even my uniform might catch the smell.â
We put the pollen that we chipped off with the spatula in the supplementary liquid and filled it with magic power. Doing so caused the medical efficacy to seep into the supplementary liquid which would become the basis of a potion.
But as I was pouring magic power into it, I felt light dizziness.
âW-What the...?â
My magic power amount was far larger than an average person. This much consumption shouldnât even be noticeable. But my vision blurred and my feet became unsteady. Then I finally noticed.
I gathered the pollen and put it in the supplementary liquid as is. During that moment, the pollen that drifted up reacted to my magic power. And I ended up inhaling a lot of that pollen.
I inhaled pollen that was filled with magic power and fully released its medical efficacy, poisoning me in the process. Having said that, I couldnât just stop breathing, but pressing a hand on my mouth did nothing much.
âNicole?â
Noticing my state, Letina came to support my body. But now that I have grown, my body wasnât so light that her arms could support me. Thus we got entangled and fell down.
Like this, we luckily managed to slip away from our lessons. I was knocked out in the process, however... | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 0,
"inserted_lines_src": 20,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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ããããšã(ææ) | Ironically, hardly anyone noticed at the time.
The change was silent, imperceptible, unless you knew exactly what to look for.
On that morning, U.S. President Bill Clinton ordered that a special switch be thrown in the orbiting satellites of the Global Positioning System.
Instantaneously, every civilian GPS receiver around the globe went from errors the size of a football field to errors the size of a small room.
It's hard to overstate the effect that this change in accuracy has had on us.
Before this switch was thrown, we didn't have in-car navigation systems giving turn-by-turn directions, because back then, GPS couldn't tell you what block you were on, let alone what street.
For geolocation, accuracy matters, and things have only improved over the last 10 years.
With more base stations, more ground stations, better receivers and better algorithms, GPS can now not only tell you what street you are on, but what part of the street.
This level of accuracy has unleashed a firestorm of innovation.
In fact, many of you navigated here today with the help of your TomTom or your smartphone.
Paper maps are becoming obsolete.
But we now stand on the verge of another revolution in geolocation accuracy.
What if I told you that the two-meter positioning that our current cell phones and our TomToms give us is pathetic compared to what we could be getting?
For some time now, it's been known that if you pay attention to the carrier phase of the GPS signal, and if you have an Internet connection, then you can go from meter level to centimeter level, even millimeter-level positioning. So why don't we have this capability on our phones?
Only, I believe, for a lack of imagination.
Manufacturers haven't built this carrier phase technique into their cheap GPS chips because they're not sure what the general public would do with geolocation so accurate that you could pinpoint the wrinkles in the palm of your hand.
But you and I and other innovators, we can see the potential in this next leap in accuracy.
Imagine, for example, an augmented reality app that overlays a virtual world to millimeter-level precision on top of the physical world.
I could build for you a structure up here in 3D, millimeter accurate, that only you could see, or my friends at home.
So this level of positioning, this is what we're looking for, and I believe that, within the next few years, I predict, that this kind of hyper-precise, carrier phase-based positioning will become cheap and ubiquitous, and the consequences will be fantastic.
The Holy Grail, of course, is the GPS dot.
Do you remember the movie "The Da Vinci Code?"
Here's Professor Langdon examining a GPS dot, which his accomplice tells him is a tracking device accurate within two feet anywhere on the globe, but we know that in the world of nonfiction, the GPS dot is impossible, right?
For one thing, GPS doesn't work indoors, and for another, they don't make devices quite this small, especially when those devices have to relay their measurements back over a network.
Well, these objections were perfectly reasonable a few years ago, but things have changed.
There's been a strong trend toward miniaturization, better sensitivity, so much so that, a few years ago, a GPS tracking device looked like this clunky box to the left of the keys.
Compare that with the device released just months ago that's now packaged into something the size of a key fob, and if you take a look at the state of the art for a complete GPS receiver, which is only a centimeter on a side and more sensitive than ever, you realize that the GPS dot will soon move from fiction to nonfiction.
Imagine what we could do with a world full of GPS dots.
It's not just that you'll never lose your wallet or your keys anymore, or your child when you're at Disneyland.
You'll buy GPS dots in bulk, and you'll stick them on everything you own worth more than a few tens of dollars.
I couldn't find my shoes one recent morning, and, as usual, had to ask my wife if she had seen them.
But I shouldn't have to bother my wife with that kind of triviality.
I should be able to ask my house where my shoes are.
Those of you who have made the switch to Gmail, remember how refreshing it was to go from organizing all of your email to simply searching it.
The GPS dot will do the same for our possessions.
Now, of course, there is a flip side to the GPS dot.
I was in my office some months back and got a telephone call.
The woman on the other end of the line, we'll call her Carol, was panicked.
Apparently, an ex-boyfriend of Carol's from California had found her in Texas and was following her around.
So you might ask at this point why she's calling you.
Well, so did I.
But it turned out there was a technical twist to Carol's case.
Every time her ex-boyfriend would show up, at the most improbable times and the most improbable locations, he was carrying an open laptop, and over time Carol realized that he had planted a GPS tracking device on her car, so she was calling me for help to disable it.
"Well, you should go to a good mechanic and have him look at your car," I said.
"I already have," she told me.
"He didn't see anything obvious, and he said he'd have to take the car apart piece by piece."
"Well then, you'd better go to the police," I said.
"I already have," she replied.
"They're not sure this rises to the level of harassment, and they're not set up technically to find the device."
"Okay, what about the FBI?"
"I've talked to them too, and same story."
We then talked about her coming to my lab and us performing a radio sweep of her car, but I wasn't even sure that would work, given that some of these devices are configured to only transmit when they're inside safe zones or when the car is moving.
So, there we were.
Carol isn't the first, and certainly won't be the last, to find herself in this kind of fearsome environment, worrisome situation caused by GPS tracking.
In fact, as I looked into her case, I discovered to my surprise that it's not clearly illegal for you or me to put a tracking device on someone else's car.
The Supreme Court ruled last month that a policeman has to get a warrant if he wants to do prolonged tracking, but the law isn't clear about civilians doing this to one another, so it's not just Big Brother we have to worry about, but Big Neighbor. There is one alternative that Carol could have taken, very effective. It's called the Wave Bubble.
It's an open-source GPS jammer, a graduate student at MIT, and Limor calls it "a tool for reclaiming our personal space."
With a flip of the switch you create a bubble around you within which GPS signals can't reside.
They get drowned out by the bubble.
And Limor designed this, in part, because, like Carol, she felt threatened by GPS tracking.
Then she posted her design to the web, and if you don't have time to build your own, you can buy one.
Chinese manufacturers now sell thousands of nearly identical devices on the Internet.
So you might be thinking, the Wave Bubble sounds great.
I should have one. Might come in handy if somebody ever puts a tracking device on my car.
But you should be aware that its use is very much illegal in the United States.
And why is that?
Well, because it's not a bubble at all.
Its jamming signals don't stop at the edge of your personal space or at the edge of your car.
They go on to jam innocent GPS receivers for miles around you. Now, if you're Carol or Limor, or someone who feels threatened by GPS tracking, it might not feel wrong to turn on a Wave Bubble, but in fact, the results can be disastrous.
Imagine, for example, you're the captain of a cruise ship trying to make your way through a thick fog and some passenger in the back turns on a Wave Bubble.
All of a sudden your GPS readout goes blank, and now it's just you and the fog and whatever you can pull off the radar system if you remember how to work it.
They -- in fact, they don't update or upkeep lighthouses anymore, and LORAN, the only backup to GPS, was discontinued last year.
Our modern society has a special relationship with GPS.
We're almost blindly reliant on it.
It's built deeply into our systems and infrastructure.
Some call it "the invisible utility."
So, turning on a Wave Bubble might not just cause inconvenience.
It might be deadly.
But as it turns out, for purposes of protecting your privacy at the expense of general GPS reliability, there's something even more potent and more subversive than a Wave Bubble, and that is a GPS spoofer.
The idea behind the GPS spoofer is simple.
Instead of jamming the GPS signals, you fake them.
You imitate them, and if you do it right, the device you're attacking doesn't even know it's being spoofed.
So let me show you how this works.
In any GPS receiver, there's a peak inside that corresponds to the authentic signals.
These three red dots represent the tracking points that try to keep themselves centered on that peak.
But if you send in a fake GPS signal, another peak pops up, and if you can get these two peaks perfectly aligned, the tracking points can't tell the difference, and they get hijacked by the stronger counterfeit signal, with the authentic peak getting forced off.
At this point, the game is over.
The fake signals now completely control this GPS receiver.
So is this really possible?
Can someone really manipulate the timing and positioning of a GPS receiver just like that, with a spoofer?
Well, the short answer is yes.
The key is that civil GPS signals are completely open.
They have no encryption. They have no authentication.
They're wide open, vulnerable to a kind of spoofing attack.
Even so, up until very recently, nobody worried about GPS spoofers.
People figured that it would be too complex or too expensive for some hacker to build one.
But I, and a friend of mine from graduate school, we didn't see it that way.
We knew it wasn't going to be so hard, and we wanted to be the first to build one so we could get out in front of the problem and help protect against GPS spoofing.
I remember vividly the week it all came together.
We built it at my home, which means that I got a little extra help from my three-year-old son Ramon.
Here's Ramon â â looking for a little attention from Dad that week.
At first, the spoofer was just a jumble of cables and computers, though we eventually got it packaged into a small box.
Now, the Dr. Frankenstein moment, when the spoofer finally came alive and I glimpsed its awful potential, came late one night when I tested the spoofer against my iPhone.
Let me show you some actual footage from that very first experiment.
I had come to completely trust this little blue dot and its reassuring blue halo.
They seemed to speak to me.
They'd say, "Here you are. Here you are." And "you can trust us."
So something felt very wrong about the world.
It was a sense, almost, of betrayal, when this little blue dot started at my house, and went running off toward the north leaving me behind. I wasn't moving.
What I then saw in this little moving blue dot was the potential for chaos.
I saw airplanes and ships veering off course, with the captain learning only too late that something was wrong.
I saw the GPS-derived timing of the New York Stock Exchange being manipulated by hackers.
You can scarcely imagine the kind of havoc you could cause if you knew what you were doing with a GPS spoofer.
There is, though, one redeeming feature of the GPS spoofer.
It's the ultimate weapon against an invasion of GPS dots.
Imagine, for example, you're being tracked.
Well, you can play the tracker for a fool, pretending to be at work when you're really on vacation.
Or, if you're Carol, you could lure your ex-boyfriend into some empty parking lot where the police are waiting for him.
So I'm fascinated by this conflict, a looming conflict, between privacy on the one hand and the need for a clean radio spectrum on the other.
We simply cannot tolerate GPS jammers and spoofers, and yet, given the lack of effective legal means for protecting our privacy from the GPS dot, can you really blame people for wanting to turn them on, for wanting to use them?
I hold out hope that we'll be able to reconcile this conflict with some sort of, some yet uninvented technology.
But meanwhile, grab some popcorn, because things are going to get interesting.
Within the next few years, many of you will be the proud owner of a GPS dot.
Maybe you'll have a whole bag full of them.
You'll never lose track of your things again.
The GPS dot will fundamentally reorder your life.
But will you be able to resist the temptation to track your fellow man?
Or will you be able to resist the temptation to turn on a GPS spoofer or a Wave Bubble to protect your own privacy?
So, as usual, what we see just beyond the horizon is full of promise and peril.
It'll be fascinating to see how this all turns out.
Thanks. | {
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æ²ããçã¿ã¯ãªãã£ãã | âHadnât you spent your entire life satisfying your own thirst for knowledge? You left the Society of Alchemy, and the research you continued on your own probably wonât be known by anyone.â
Could I still delay him by talking? I didnât know, but this was the only way left.
âWhat do you know?â
âI donât. So I canât sympathize. Having chosen solitude on your own, living alone in this place separated from society, wouldnât you know?â
âBut my Researchââ
âYou were orphaned at birth, and the brief moment of relief after being picked up by your adoptive father, Fail DimeliaâAnd having learned that you were an âingredientâ for his homunculus, you killed him to survive. This is the extent of the connection between alchemy and you.â
He interrupted me and nonchalantly revealed the sins of my childhood that nobody should know.
He knew everything.
â...I didnât want to die. I did what I had to survive...â
The despair from the day my foster father I believed in told me I was a mere âingredientâ was being brought back. As I shook my head trying to expel those memories from my mind, Cassius placed his hand on my head.
âIâm not condemning you. The truth you are pursuing is merely following in the footsteps of your adoptive father.â
Perhaps because Cassius was touching me, the memories of the cruel end were being overpainted by ones when I still felt âhappyâ with my adoptive father.
âI just... Wanted to be acknowledged...â
He told me I was gifted and rescued from a life of being a street child living side by side with death.
A house with a roof over my head, a warm bed, a hot mealâI had learned that happiness is being guaranteed food and sleep.
âBeing praised by him like the old days? Even though you killed him?â
It never occurred to me that it would bring despair.
âI just... In my own way... Wanted to be useful. Whatâs wrong with using Alchemy for that?â
âThere is nothing wrong with that. My predecessor holds gratitude towards you. Your achievements in the Great Human-Demon War deserve to be praised.â
He told me as if to comfort me. I shook my head weakly at his words.
âWithout alchemy, I would not have even had that. I only have alchemy... If you call my alchemy praiseworthy, then why do you sentence me to execution? I have only alchemyââ
âAnd using alchemy, what is it that you seek?â
âTruth. I told you before. Iâm pursuing the truth. Even now... Thatâs why I researched to get a new body, to continue thatââ
Before I could finish, Cassius clapped his hands. The monotonous sound of clapping echoed harshly and coldly in the room.
âI see... So thatâs what prompted you into action. Itâs not so bad to know my crime at my final moment.â
âLet us be thankful for it.â
A cold voice that felt like it could see through me made Cassiusâ lips tremble.
âGlass Dimelia. Your crime is researching Homunculi.â
The charges were too unreasonable.
â...But there are other researchers too?â
âTheir level of completion differs. The theories you have completed have already stepped into the domain of gods. A homunculus that serves as a vessel for the soulâAn existence like that will bring about disaster to the world.â
Cassius continued without even moving an eyebrow at my objection. With this, it had become clear that my research had reached a level of completion not everyone could reach. And now that had backfired, and I had been sentenced to death.
â...Then, what if I destroy all my research into homunculi?â
âYou have a point. If you destroy it all, I might reconsider.â
â...I understand.â
I started burning my research papers one by one in the fireplace.
While I took my time slowly burning everything, Cassius silently leaned against the door with his eyes closed. I had no idea what he was thinking, but I simply kept burning it.
As long as I could protect the completed homunculus, then I would be able to survive.
The fire from the fireplace wasnât enough, so using a simplified magic circle, I called upon fire to increase the heat. Using another magic circle, I generated wind magic to blow away the ashes through the chimney.
I burned everything. Even research that had nothing to do with homunculi.
â...Was that everything?â
When all the shelves were empty, Cassius opened his eyes.
â...Thatâs right.â
I told a lie. One completed specimen was left in a secret room behind the wall.
âAlright.â
He nodded and turned his back to me.
âIt was finally over.
As long as the specimen remained, my goals were within reach.
âHow regretful, Glass Dimelia.â
But as he uttered those words in a low voice, he spun around, drawing the bronze serpent Nehushtan in a swift motion.
â!!â
In the next instant, the wall behind me exploded outward, revealing a homunculus suspended within a colossal glass container.
âDid you truly believe such paltry deceptions could fool a divine?â
â..!â
His gaze pinned me with a chilling coldness. My hand fumbled for the magic scroll hidden in my sleeve, but it was too late. A sharp wind sliced through the air, and my arm tumbled to the floor.
âAh...Ah...â Blood poured from the stump of my shoulder, and agony engulfed me. âAAAAAAH!â
I crashed to the ground, howling. The floor, slick as though wet with water, quickly stained with my blood. Thrashing about, I realized something was pressing against me. A severed head, bearing the visage of a younger me, lay before my eyes.
â...Aah...Ah...â
It didnât take long to realize it was the homunculus, decapitated along with the container.
âWith this, all has been eradicated.â Cassiusâs smile was grim, his satisfaction clear in the face of such despair.
âAh, there remains one last thing. But no matter.â He murmured to himself, then grasped the hilt of Nehushtan.
âRegarding your earlier offerââ He spoke, crouching beside me. âIf you vow to forsake homunculi research forever, I might reconsider.â
â...Without an arm, do you think I could continue?â
The blood loss made it hard to focus.
âI can heal your wound.â His tone was casual. The sound of Nehushtan sheathing followed.
Nehushtan possessed dual powers: âSeveringâ and âJoiningâ. Severed objects could be âjoinedâ by Nehushtanâs wielder upon touch. Cassius was undoubtedly cognizant of this.
But of what use was it now?
â...itâs futile if you cannot cure the black stone disease.â
âThat is not within my power but is instead part of your destiny. Accept it.â
âWhatâs the purpose of extending my suffering?â
All my research existed only in my mind now. My tools, my workspace, everything had been shredded.
âThat is for you to ponder.â
âThe only thing I have left is despair...â
Without my homunculus, hope was extinguished.
âAs long as you live, hope persists.â
âMy last hope has just been eradicated by you...ââ
But before anger could rise, my consciousness began to fade.
âIf you wish to carry on, I will halt the bleeding.â
âNo thanks. Itâs enough... Iâm weary.â
My sight blurred, and the world turned a frosty white. The cold was biting.
âThere is no light in the life that remains for me. A world devoid of hope holds no allure.â
I was transported back to those harsh winter days of my earliest memories. Though I had survived thirty-seven years beyond that, it seemed I couldnât escape the claws of deathâs despair after all.
â...End it.â
âVery well. Your execution will proceed.â
His voice was the last I registered.
Perhaps in his final act of mercy, I felt no pain. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 3,
"inserted_lines_src": 17,
"inserted_lines_trg": 0
} |
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ããããšãããããŸãã | I had basically digested away my body.
And this all came to a head when I was on a backpacking trip, my first one ever actually, on Old Rag Mountain in West Virginia, and was putting my face into puddles of water and drinking like a dog.
That night, I was taken into the emergency room and diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic in full-blown ketoacidosis.
And I recovered, thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, insulin and other things, and gained all my weight back and more.
And something festered inside me after this happened.
What I thought about was, what caused the diabetes?
You see, diabetes is an autoimmune disease where your body fights itself, and at the time people thought that somehow maybe exposure to a pathogen had triggered my immune system to fight the pathogen and then kill the cells that make insulin.
And this is what I thought for a long period of time, and that's in fact what medicine and people have focused on quite a bit, the microbes that do bad things.
And that's where I need my assistant here now.
You may recognize her.
So, I went yesterday, I apologize, I skipped a few of the talks, and I went over to the National Academy of Sciences building, and they sell toys, giant microbes.
And here we go!
So you have caught flesh-eating disease if you caught that one.
I gotta get back out my baseball ability here.
So, unfortunately or not surprisingly, most of the microbes they sell at the National Academy building are pathogens.
Everybody focuses on the things that kill us, and that's what I was focusing on.
And it turns out that we are covered in a cloud of microbes, and those microbes actually do us good much of the time, rather than killing us.
And so, we've known about this for some period of time.
People have used microscopes to look at the microbes that cover us, I know you're not paying attention to me, but ...
The microbes that cover us.
And if you look at them in the microscope, you can see that we actually have 10 times as many cells of microbes on us as we have human cells.
There's more mass in the microbes than the mass of our brain.
We are literally a teeming ecosystem of microorganisms.
And unfortunately, if you want to learn about the microorganisms, just looking at them in a microscope is not sufficient.
And so we just heard about the DNA sequencing.
It turns out that one of the best ways to look at microbes and to understand them is to look at their DNA.
And that's what I've been doing for 20 years, using DNA sequencing, collecting samples from various places, including the human body, reading the DNA sequence and then using that DNA sequencing to tell us about the microbes that are in a particular place.
And what's amazing, when you use this technology, for example, looking at humans, we're not just covered in a sea of microbes.
There are thousands upon thousands of different kinds of microbes on us.
We have millions of genes of microbes in our human microbiome covering us.
And so this microbial diversity differs between people, and what people have been thinking about in the last 10, maybe 15 years is, maybe these microbes, this microbial cloud in and on us, and the variation between us, may be responsible for some of the health and illness differences between us.
And that comes back to the diabetes story I was telling you.
It turns out that people now think that one of the triggers for type 1 diabetes is not fighting a pathogen, but is in fact trying to -- miscommunicating with the microbes that live in and on you.
And somehow maybe the microbial community that's in and on me got off, and then this triggered some sort of immune response and led to me killing the cells that make insulin in my body.
And so what I want to tell you about for a few minutes is, what people have learned using DNA sequencing techniques in particular, to study the microbial cloud that lives in and on us.
And I want to tell you a story about a personal project.
My first personal experience with studying the microbes on the human body actually came from a talk that I gave, right around the corner from here at Georgetown.
I gave a talk, and a family friend who happened to be the Dean of Georgetown Medical School was at the talk, and came up to me afterwards saying, they were doing a study of ileal transplants in people.
And they wanted to look at the microbes after the transplants.
And so I started a collaboration with this person, Michael Zasloff and Thomas Fishbein, to look at the microbes that colonized these ilea after they were transplanted into a recipient.
And I can tell you all the details about the microbial study that we did there, but the reason I want to tell you this story is something really striking that they did at the beginning of this project.
They take the donor ileum, which is filled with microbes from a donor and they have a recipient who might have a problem with their microbial community, say Crohn's disease, and they sterilized the donor ileum.
Cleaned out all the microbes, and then put it in the recipient.
They did this because this was common practice in medicine, even though it was obvious that this was not a good idea.
And fortunately, in the course of this project, the transplant surgeons and the other people decided, forget common practice. We have to switch.
So they actually switched to leaving some of the microbial community in the ileum. They leave the microbes with the donor, and theoretically that might help the people who are receiving this ileal transplant.
And so, people -- this is a study that I did now.
In the last few years there's been a great expansion in using DNA technology to study the microbes in and on people.
There's something called the Human Microbiome Project that's going on in the United States, and MetaHIT going on in Europe, and a lot of other projects.
And when people have done a variety of studies, they have learned things such as, when a baby is born, during vaginal delivery you get colonized by the microbes from your mother.
There are risk factors associated with cesarean sections, some of those risk factors may be due to mis-colonization when you carve a baby out of its mother rather than being delivered through the birth canal.
And a variety of other studies have shown that the microbial community that lives in and on us helps in development of the immune system, helps in fighting off pathogens, helps in our metabolism, and determining our metabolic rate, probably determines our odor, and may even shape our behavior in a variety of ways.
And so, these studies have documented or suggested out of a variety of important functions for the microbial community, this cloud, the non-pathogens that live in and on us.
And one area that I think is very interesting, which many of you may have now that we've thrown microbes into the crowd, is something that I would call "germophobia."
So people are really into cleanliness, right?
We have antibiotics in our kitchen counters, people are washing every part of them all of the time, we pump antibiotics into our food, into our communities, we take antibiotics excessively.
And killing pathogens is a good thing if you're sick, but we should understand that when we pump chemicals and antibiotics into our world, that we're also killing the cloud of microbes that live in and on us.
And excessive use of antibiotics, in particular in children, for obesity, for autoimmune diseases, for a variety of problems that are probably due to disruption of the microbial community.
So the microbial community can go wrong whether we want it to or not, or we can kill it with antibiotics, but what can we do to restore it?
I'm sure many people here have heard about probiotics.
Probiotics are one thing that you can try and do to restore the microbial community that is in and on you.
And they definitely have been shown to be effective in some cases.
There's a project going on at UC Davis where people are using probiotics to try and treat, prevent, necrotizing enterocolitis in premature infants.
Premature infants have real problems with their microbial community.
And it may be that probiotics can help prevent the development of this horrible necrotizing enterocolitis in these premature infants.
But probiotics are sort of a very, very simple solution.
Most of the pills that you can take or the yogurts that you can eat have one or two species in them, maybe five species in them, and the human community is thousands upon thousands of species.
So what can we do to restore our microbial community when we have thousands and thousands of species on us?
Well, one thing that animals seem to do is, they eat poo -- coprophagia.
And it turns out that many veterinarians, old school veterinarians in particular, have been doing something called "poo tea," not booty, but poo tea, to treat colic and other ailments in horses and cows and things like that, where you make tea from the poo from a healthy individual animal and you feed it to a sick animal.
Although, unless you have a fistulated cow with a big hole in its side, and you can put your hand into its rumen, it's hard to imagine that the delivery of microbes directly into the mouth and through the entire top of the digestive tract is the best delivery system, so you may have heard in people they are now doing fecal transplants, where rather than delivering a couple of probiotic microbes through the mouth,
they are delivering a community of probiotics, a community of microbes from a healthy donor, through the other end.
And this has turned out to be very effective in fighting certain intransigent infectious diseases like Clostridium difficile infections that can stay with people for years and years and years.
Transplants of the feces, of the microbes from the feces, from a healthy donor has actually been shown to cure systemic C. dif infections in some people.
Now what these transplants, these fecal transplants, or the poo tea suggest to me, and many other people have come up with this same idea, is that the microbial community in and on us, it's an organ.
We should view it as a functioning organ, part of ourselves.
We should treat it carefully and with respect, and we do not want to mess with it, say by C-sections or by antibiotics or excessive cleanliness, without some real good justification.
And what the DNA sequencing technologies are allowing people to do now is do detailed studies of, say, 100 patients who have Crohn's disease and 100 people who don't have Crohn's disease.
Or 100 people who took antibiotics when they were little, and 100 people who did not take antibiotics.
And we can now start to compare the community of microbes and their genes and see if there are differences.
And eventually we may be able to understand if they're not just correlative differences, but causative.
Studies in model systems like mouse and other animals are also helping do this, but people are now using these technologies because they've gotten very cheap, to study the microbes in and on a variety of people.
So, in wrapping up, what I want to tell you about is, I didn't tell you a part of the story of coming down with diabetes.
It turns out that my father was an M.D., actually studied hormones. I told him many times that I was tired, thirsty, not feeling very good.
And he shrugged it off, I think he either thought I was just complaining a lot, or it was the typical M.D. "nothing can be wrong with my children."
We even went to the International Society of Endocrinology meeting as family in Quebec.
And I was getting up every five minutes to pee, and drinking everybody's water at the table, and I think they all thought I was a druggie.
But the reason I'm telling you this is that the medical community, my father as an example, sometimes doesn't see what's right in front of their eyes.
The microbial cloud, it is right in front of us.
We can't see it most of the time. It's invisible.
They're microbes. They're tiny.
But we can see them through their DNA, we can see them through the effects that they have on people.
And what we need now is to start thinking about this microbial community in the context of everything in human medicine.
It doesn't mean that it affects every part of us, but it might.
What we need is a full field guide to the microbes that live in and on people, so that we can understand what they're doing to our lives.
We are them. They are us.
Thank you. | {
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°ã§æŠãããã«ã¯ãããªããã®ã | [If you keep dodging, you wonât win, you know. ]
I know!
My earlier kicking had prevented her from showing any openings, and I couldnât attack her anywhere.But if sheâs wielding the scythe this much, she must be expending a lot of energy... I noticed that the speed with which she swung the scythe was slowing down.
Still, she enthusiastically swings the scythe at me. Each swing was powerful and refined.
She was strong.... She was undeniably the real deal.
This forest was surely their garden. The opponent must have the advantage. I must somehow break out of this disadvantageous situation...
Unlike me, she was tall and strong. I had no choice but to take advantage of this. I closed the distance between us while trying to evade her.
I grabbed a small twig that had fallen to the ground as I closed in on her. She stopped swinging her scythe at that point, perhaps sensing danger, and kicked me in the chest with all her might.
âKahah!â
The unbelievable force blew me away spectacularly, and I hit my back against a thick tree trunk.
What a woman... I wonder what kind of training it took for her to acquire such a powerful force.
The force of the kick likely caused me to cut my mouth, and blood dripped from my lip.
She approached me as I was gasping for breath. The stern and imposing atmosphere of her presence made me have respect for her.
Was it strange that I felt this way even though we are enemies...?
If we had been born and raised in the same environment, we might have been good friends and rivals.
[I had a little fun with you...]
She stood in front of me and swung her big blade down mercilessly.
âAlicia!â
I heard Duke-sama shout.
Sorry, I was not that weak of a woman to be killed in a place like this! I decided that I would definitely become a villainess who would go down in history!
I would never show any weakness to my opponents. I would put on a face that said I would win no matter how desperate the situation was.
As she got closer to me, I raised my body and kicked her right ankle with all my might. She staggered, and to throw her off balance even more, I kicked her from a lower position with my hands on the ground, lifting my leg up to her face.
...Hit!
She almost collapsed on the spot. She was quite a strong opponent, but I guess I won this time too...
âWhat?â
I let out an uncontrollable yelp as she moved, just as she lost her balance and collapsed. In an instant, I was on my back on the ground, her scythe against my neck.
As I stared at the red-eyed woman above me, I realized my situation.
What just happened? I had no idea how she had managed to fight back from that position.
The only thing I could grasp was that she had the trunk of a monster.
[Itâs important to stay on your guard until the end.]
She muttered as she looked me straight in the eye.
I could hear her clear voice in the quiet space, and although I did not know what was going on with Duke-sama and the others, I could feel their worried stares at me.
...Duke-sama and the others managed to get through with only three people against such a large group.
I could feel the tension in the air.
[I win.]
She kept her eyes on me and put more power into the scythe. I could feel my neck being cut a little. The sensation of blood flowing, the iron-like smell.
The woman raised her eyebrows at me, as I seemed to be somewhat relaxed in spite of such a disadvantageous situation.
I had a small knife pressed against her side.
I had just picked up a twig and turned it into a small knife with some magic I had left over.
I couldnât fight unarmed against an opponent wielding a massive scythe. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 0,
"inserted_lines_src": 3,
"inserted_lines_trg": 1
} |
ãããããã©ã³ã¹äººãšã¢ã¡ãªã«äººã®éãã«çŠç¹ãåããããã®èª¿æ»ã§ãæãèå³æ·±ãçºèŠã¯ããã©ã³ã¹åœå
ã®å°æ¹éã«é¡èãªéããèŠãããããšã§ãã£ãã圌女ã¯ãã©ã³ã¹ã®éŠéœããªãšãªãŒãŽã§ã«ãã¥å°æ¹ã®äž»èŠéœåžã¯ã¬ã¢ã³ã»ãã§ã©ã³ãšãæ¯èŒããããªãŒãŽã§ã«ãã¥ã®äœæ°ã¯å³æ Œã§ãã¡ã§ãè¿å¹Žã®çžåœã®é²æ©ã«ãããããããçžå¯Ÿçã«è±ããªæåã«æ¬ ããŠããããšã§æåã§ããã | But, while Lamont focused on differences between the French and the Americans, her studyâs most interesting finding was that of significant differences between regions within France. She compared Clermont-Ferrand, the capital of Auvergne, in the center of France, with Paris. | {
"source": "news_commentary",
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èŽããããšãããããŸã | I got invited to speak to the people who dress up in big stuffed animal costumes to perform at sporting events.
Unfortunately I couldn't go.
But it got me thinking about the fact that these guys, at least most of them, know what it is that they do for a living.
What they do is they dress up as stuffed animals and entertain people at sporting events.
Shortly after that I got invited to speak at the convention of the people who make balloon animals.
And again, I couldn't go. But it's a fascinating group. They make balloon animals.
There is a big schism between the ones who make gospel animals and porn animals, but -- they do a lot of really cool stuff with balloons.
Sometimes they get in trouble, but not often.
And the other thing about these guys is, they also know what they do for a living.
They make balloon animals.
But what do we do for a living?
What exactly to the people watching this do every day?
And I want to argue that what we do is we try to change everything.
That we try to find a piece of the status quo -- something that bothers us, something that needs to be improved, something that is itching to be changed -- and we change it.
We try to make big, permanent, important change.
But we don't think about it that way.
And we haven't spent a lot of time talking about what that process is like.
And I've been studying it for a couple years.
And I want to share a couple stories with you today.
First, about a guy named Nathan Winograd.
Nathan was the number two person at the San Francisco SPCA.
And what you may not know about the history of the SPCA is, it was founded to kill dogs and cats.
Cities gave them a charter to get rid of the stray animals on the street and destroy them.
In a typical year four million dogs and cats were killed, most of them within 24 hours of being scooped off of the street.
Nathan and his boss saw this, and they could not tolerate it.
So they set out to make San Francisco a no-kill city: create an entire city where every dog and cat, unless it was ill or dangerous, would be adopted, not killed.
And everyone said it was impossible.
Nathan and his boss went to the city council to get a change in the ordinance.
And people from SPCAs and humane shelters around the country flew to San Francisco to testify against them -- to say it would hurt the movement and it was inhumane.
They persisted. And Nathan went directly to the community.
He connected with people who cared about this: nonprofessionals, people with passion.
And within just a couple years, San Francisco became the first no-kill city, running no deficit, completely supported by the community.
Nathan left and went to Tompkins County, New York -- a place as different from San Francisco as you can be and still be in the United States. And he did it again.
He went from being a glorified dogcatcher to completely transforming the community.
And then he went to North Carolina and did it again.
And he went to Reno and he did it again.
And when I think about what Nathan did, and when I think about what people here do, I think about ideas.
And I think about the idea that creating an idea, spreading an idea has a lot behind it.
I don't know if you've ever been to a Jewish wedding, but what they do is, they take a light bulb and they smash it.
Now there is a bunch of reasons for that, and stories about it.
But one reason is because it indicates a change, from before to after.
It is a moment in time.
And I want to argue that we are living through and are right at the key moment of a change in the way ideas are created and spread and implemented.
We started with the factory idea: that you could change the whole world if you had an efficient factory that could churn out change.
We then went to the TV idea, that said if you had a big enough mouthpiece, if you could get on TV enough times, if you could buy enough ads, you could win.
And now we're in this new model of leadership, where the way we make change is not by using money or power to lever a system, but by leading.
So let me tell you about the three cycles. The first one is the factory cycle.
Henry Ford comes up with a really cool idea.
It enables him to hire men who used to get paid 50 cents a day and pay them five dollars a day.
Because he's got an efficient enough factory.
Well with that sort of advantage you can churn out a lot of cars.
You can make a lot of change. You can get roads built.
You can change the fabric of an entire country.
That the essence of what you're doing is you need ever-cheaper labor, and ever-faster machines.
And the problem we've run into is, we're running out of both.
Ever-cheaper labor and ever-faster machines.
So we shift gears for a minute, and say, "I know: television; advertising. Push push.
Take a good idea and push it on the world.
I have a better mousetrap.
And if I can just get enough money to tell enough people, I'll sell enough."
And you can build an entire industry on that.
If necessary you can put babies in your ads.
If necessary you can use babies to sell other stuff.
And if babies don't work, you can use doctors.
But be careful.
Because you don't want to get an unfortunate juxtaposition, where you're talking about one thing instead of the other.
This model requires you to act like the king, like the person in the front of the room throwing things to the peons in the back.
That you are in charge, and you're going to tell people what to do next.
The quick little diagram of it is, you're up here, and you are pushing it out to the world.
This method -- mass marketing -- requires average ideas, because you're going to the masses, and plenty of ads.
What we've done as spammers is tried to hypnotize everyone into buying our idea, hypnotize everyone into donating to our cause, hypnotize everyone into voting for our candidate.
And, unfortunately, it doesn't work so well anymore either.
But there is good news around the corner -- really good news.
I call it the idea of tribes.
What tribes are, is a very simple concept that goes back 50,000 years.
It's about leading and connecting people and ideas.
And it's something that people have wanted forever.
Lots of people are used to having a spiritual tribe, or a church tribe, having a work tribe, having a community tribe.
But now, thanks to the internet, thanks to the explosion of mass media, that are bubbling through our society around the world, tribes are everywhere.
The Internet was supposed to homogenize everyone by connecting us all.
Instead what it's allowed is silos of interest.
So you've got the red-hat ladies over here.
You've got the red-hat triathletes over there.
You've got the organized armies over here.
You've got the disorganized rebels over here.
You've got people in white hats making food.
And people in white hats sailing boats.
The point is that you can find Ukrainian folk dancers and connect with them, because you want to be connected.
That people on the fringes can find each other, connect and go somewhere.
Every town that has a volunteer fire department understands this way of thinking.
Now it turns out this is a legitimate non-photoshopped photo.
People I know who are firemen told me that this is not uncommon.
And that what firemen do to train sometimes is they take a house that is going to be torn down, and they burn it down instead, and practice putting it out.
But they always stop and take a picture.
You know the pirate tribe is a fascinating one.
They've got their own flag. They've got the eye patches.
You can tell when you're running into someone in a tribe.
And it turns out that it's tribes -- not money, not factories -- that can change our world, that can change politics, that can align large numbers of people. Not because you force them to do something against their will, but because they wanted to connect.
That what we do for a living now, all of us, I think, is find something worth changing, and then assemble tribes that assemble tribes that spread the idea and spread the idea.
And it becomes something far bigger than ourselves, it becomes a movement.
So when Al Gore set out to change the world again, he didn't do it by himself.
And he didn't do it by buying a lot of ads.
He did it by creating a movement.
Thousands of people around the country who could give his presentation for him, because he can't be in 100 or 200 or 500 cities in each night.
You don't need everyone.
What Kevin Kelley has taught us is you just need, I don't know, a thousand true fans -- a thousand people who care enough that they will get you the next round and the next round and the next round.
And that means that the idea you create, the product you create, the movement you create isn't for everyone, it's not a mass thing. That's not what this is about.
What it's about instead is finding the true believers.
It's easy to look at what I've said so far, and say, "Wait a minute, I don't have what it takes to be that kind of leader."
So here are two leaders. They don't have a lot in common.
They're about the same age. But that's about it.
What they did, though, is each in their own way, created a different way of navigating your way through technology.
So some people will go out and get people to be on one team.
And some people will get people to be on the other team.
It also informs the decisions you make when you make products or services.
You know, this is one of my favorite devices.
But what a shame that it's not organized to help authors create movements.
What would happen if, when you're using your Kindle, you could see the comments and quotes and notes from all the other people reading the same book as you in that moment.
Or from your book group. Or from your friends, or from the circle you want.
What would happen if authors, or people with ideas could use version two, which comes out on Monday, and use it to organize people who want to talk about something.
Now there is a million things I could share with you about the mechanics here.
But let me just try a couple.
The Beatles did not invent teenagers.
They merely decided to lead them.
That most movements, most leadership that we're doing is about finding a group that's disconnected but already has a yearning -- not persuading people to want something they don't have yet.
When Diane Hatz worked on "The Meatrix," her video that spread all across the internet about the way farm animals are treated, she didn't invent the idea of being a vegan.
She didn't invent the idea of caring about this issue.
But she helped organize people, and helped turn it into a movement.
Hugo Chavez did not invent the disaffected middle and lower class of Venezuela. He merely led them.
Bob Marley did not invent Rastafarians.
He just stepped up and said, "Follow me."
Derek Sivers invented CD Baby, which allowed independent musicians to have a place to sell their music without selling out to the man -- to have place to take the mission they already wanted to go to, and connect with each other.
What all these people have in common is that they are heretics.
That heretics look at the status quo and say, "This will not stand. I can't abide this status quo.
I am willing to stand up and be counted and move things forward.
I see what the status quo is; I don't like it."
That instead of looking at all the little rules and following each one of them, somebody who's half asleep, following instructions, keeping their head down, fitting in -- every once in a while someone stands up and says, "Not me."
Someone stands up and says, "This one is important.
We need to organize around it."
And not everyone will. But you don't need everyone.
You just need a few people -- -- who will look at the rules, realize they make no sense, and realize how much they want to be connected.
So Tony Hsieh does not run a shoe store.
Zappos isn't a shoe store.
Zappos is the one, the only, the best-there-ever-was place for people who are into shoes to find each other, to talk about their passion, to connect with people who care more about customer service than making a nickel tomorrow.
It can be something as prosaic as shoes, and something as complicated as overthrowing a government.
It's exactly the same behavior though.
What it requires, as Geraldine Carter has discovered, is to be able to say, "I can't do this by myself.
But if I can get other people to join my Climb and Ride, then together we can get something that we all want.
We're just waiting for someone to lead us."
Michelle Kaufman has pioneered new ways of thinking about environmental architecture.
She doesn't do it by quietly building one house at a time.
She does it by telling a story to people who want to hear it.
By connecting a tribe of people who are desperate to be connected to each other.
By leading a movement and making change.
And around and around and around it goes.
So three questions I'd offer you.
The first one is, who exactly are you upsetting?
Because if you're not upsetting anyone, you're not changing the status quo.
The second question is, who are you connecting?
Because for a lot of people, that's what they're in it for: the connections that are being made, one to the other.
And the third one is, who are you leading?
Because focusing on that part of it -- not the mechanics of what you're building, but the who, and the leading part -- is where change comes.
So Blake, at Tom's Shoes, had a very simple idea.
"What would happen if every time someone bought a pair of these shoes I gave exactly the same pair to someone who doesn't even own a pair of shoes?"
This is not the story of how you get shelf space at Neiman Marcus.
It's a story of a product that tells a story.
And as you walk around with this remarkable pair of shoes and someone says, "What are those?"
You get to tell the story on Blake's behalf, on behalf of the people who got the shoes.
And suddenly it's not one pair of shoes or 100 pairs of shoes.
It's tens of thousands of pairs of shoes.
My friend Red Maxwell has spent the last 10 years fighting against juvenile diabetes.
Not fighting the organization that's fighting it -- fighting with them, leading them, connecting them, challenging the status quo because it's important to him.
And the people he surrounds himself with need the connection.
They need the leadership. It makes a difference.
You don't need permission from people to lead them.
But in case you do, here it is: they're waiting, we're waiting for you to show us where to go next.
So here is what leaders have in common. The first thing is, they challenge the status quo.
They challenge what's currently there.
The second thing is, they build a culture.
A secret language, a seven-second handshake, a way of knowing that you're in or out.
They have curiosity. Curiosity about people in the tribe, curiosity about outsiders. They're asking questions.
They connect people to one another.
Do you know what people want more than anything?
They want to be missed.
They want to be missed the day they don't show up.
They want to be missed when they're gone.
And tribe leaders can do that.
It's fascinating, because all tribe leaders have charisma, but you don't need charisma to become a leader.
Being a leader gives you charisma.
If you look and study the leaders who have succeeded, that's where charisma comes from -- from the leading.
Finally, they commit.
They commit to the cause. They commit to the tribe.
They commit to the people who are there.
So I'd like you to do something for me.
And I hope you'll think about it before you reject it out-of-hand.
What I want you to do, it only takes 24 hours, is: create a movement.
Something that matters. Start. Do it. We need it.
Thank you very much. I appreciate it. | {
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ã¡ãããšèšŒæããŠãã ããã ããªãã®æã æšè«ã«çµãããªãããã« | And since you think your job is interesting, you say, "I'm a mathematician." And inevitably, during that conversation one of these two phrases come up: A) "I was terrible at math, but it wasn't my fault.
It's because the teacher was awful." Or B) "But what is math really for?"
I'll now address Case B.
When someone asks you what math is for, they're not asking you about applications of mathematical science.
They're asking you, why did I have to study that bullshit I never used in my life again? That's what they're actually asking.
So when mathematicians are asked what math is for, they tend to fall into two groups: 54.51 percent of mathematicians will assume an attacking position, and 44.77 percent of mathematicians will take a defensive position.
There's a strange 0.8 percent, among which I include myself.
Who are the ones that attack?
The attacking ones are mathematicians who would tell you this question makes no sense, because mathematics have a meaning all their own -- a beautiful edifice with its own logic -- and that there's no point in constantly searching for all possible applications.
What's the use of poetry? What's the use of love?
What's the use of life itself? What kind of question is that?
Hardy, for instance, was a model of this type of attack.
And those who stand in defense tell you, "Even if you don't realize it, friend, math is behind everything."
Those guys, they always bring up bridges and computers.
"If you don't know math, your bridge will collapse."
It's true, computers are all about math.
And now these guys have also started saying that behind information security and credit cards are prime numbers.
These are the answers your math teacher would give you if you asked him.
He's one of the defensive ones.
Okay, but who's right then?
Those who say that math doesn't need to have a purpose, or those who say that math is behind everything we do?
Actually, both are right.
But remember I told you I belong to that strange 0.8 percent claiming something else?
So, go ahead, ask me what math is for.
Audience: What is math for?
Eduardo Sáenz de Cabezón: Okay, 76.34 percent of you asked the question, 23.41 percent didn't say anything, and the 0.8 percent -- I'm not sure what those guys are doing.
Well, to my dear 76.31 percent -- it's true that math doesn't need to serve a purpose, it's true that it's a beautiful structure, a logical one, probably one of the greatest collective efforts ever achieved in human history.
But it's also true that there, where scientists and technicians are looking for mathematical theories that allow them to advance, they're within the structure of math, which permeates everything.
It's true that we have to go somewhat deeper, to see what's behind science.
Science operates on intuition, creativity.
Math controls intuition and tames creativity.
Almost everyone who hasn't heard this before is surprised when they hear that if you take a 0.1 millimeter thick sheet of paper, the size we normally use, and, if it were big enough, fold it 50 times, its thickness would extend almost the distance from the Earth to the sun.
Your intuition tells you it's impossible.
Do the math and you'll see it's right.
That's what math is for.
It's true that science, all types of science, only makes sense because it makes us better understand this beautiful world we live in.
And in doing that, it helps us avoid the pitfalls of this painful world we live in.
There are sciences that help us in this way quite directly.
Oncological science, for example.
And there are others we look at from afar, with envy sometimes, but knowing that we are what supports them.
All the basic sciences support them, including math.
All that makes science, science is the rigor of math.
And that rigor factors in because its results are eternal.
You probably said or were told at some point that diamonds are forever, right?
That depends on your definition of forever!
A theorem -- that really is forever.
The Pythagorean theorem is still true even though Pythagoras is dead, I assure you it's true. Even if the world collapsed the Pythagorean theorem would still be true.
Wherever any two triangle sides and a good hypotenuse get together the Pythagorean theorem goes all out. It works like crazy.
Well, we mathematicians devote ourselves to come up with theorems.
Eternal truths.
But it isn't always easy to know the difference between an eternal truth, or theorem, and a mere conjecture.
You need proof.
For example, let's say I have a big, enormous, infinite field.
I want to cover it with equal pieces, without leaving any gaps.
I could use squares, right?
I could use triangles. Not circles, those leave little gaps.
Which is the best shape to use?
One that covers the same surface, but has a smaller border.
In the year 300, Pappus of Alexandria said the best is to use hexagons, just like bees do.
But he didn't prove it.
The guy said, "Hexagons, great! Let's go with hexagons!"
He didn't prove it, it remained a conjecture.
"Hexagons!"
And the world, as you know, split into Pappists and anti-Pappists, until 1700 years later when in 1999, Thomas Hales proved that Pappus and the bees were right -- the best shape to use was the hexagon.
And that became a theorem, the honeycomb theorem, that will be true forever and ever, for longer than any diamond you may have. But what happens if we go to three dimensions?
If I want to fill the space with equal pieces, without leaving any gaps, I can use cubes, right?
Not spheres, those leave little gaps. What is the best shape to use?
Lord Kelvin, of the famous Kelvin degrees and all, said that the best was to use a truncated octahedron which, as you all know -- -- is this thing here!
Come on.
Who doesn't have a truncated octahedron at home? Even a plastic one.
"Honey, get the truncated octahedron, we're having guests."
Everybody has one! But Kelvin didn't prove it.
It remained a conjecture -- Kelvin's conjecture.
The world, as you know, then split into Kelvinists and anti-Kelvinists until a hundred or so years later, someone found a better structure.
Weaire and Phelan found this little thing over here -- -- this structure to which they gave the very clever name "the Weaire-ÂÂPhelan structure."
It looks like a strange object, but it isn't so strange, it also exists in nature.
It's very interesting that this structure, because of its geometric properties, was used to build the Aquatics Center for the Beijing Olympic Games.
There, Michael Phelps won eight gold medals, and became the best swimmer of all time.
Well, until someone better comes along, right?
As may happen with the Weaire-ÂÂPhelan structure.
It's the best until something better shows up.
But be careful, because this one really stands a chance that in a hundred or so years, or even if it's in 1700 years, that someone proves it's the best possible shape for the job.
It will then become a theorem, a truth, forever and ever.
For longer than any diamond.
So, if you want to tell someone that you will love them forever you can give them a diamond.
But if you want to tell them that you'll love them forever and ever, give them a theorem!
But hang on a minute!
You'll have to prove it, so your love doesn't remain a conjecture. | {
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ä»ã¯ããã§ååã ããããŒã«ããããéçã®éŠæã£ãŠããŠããããã ãããªã | Thankfully, the preparation of the army, or to be more specific, the preparation of the Zeavert troop has been done by Father. I also had Nobert hire many scouts from the Adventurers Guild.
If later on demonic beasts attacked the refugees, it would cause panic and casualties. Itâs better to fight them before that happens so thatâs why I need people that can scout our surroundings. Itâs best to leave the job to the professional.
I also need a map so Iâve sent a servant to the palace to create a copy of the map. I need the kingdom to at least be willing to let me have a copy of the map otherwise Iâll be troubled. I know a map is a military secret but this is also a military job you know.
Then, I sent a messenger to Mazell to call him to the mansion. Itâs best if Luguentz can also come but even if he doesnât, Mazell alone should be enough.
Mazell is still living in the dorm so itâs easy to get hold of him. Thatâs great. If he has started his journey, it will be hard to contact him. I need to do something about it but I donât know what. I mean, itâs not like this world has smartphones.
I read the list that contained the required arms and goods needed by the Zeavert troop. I want to have a secretary. I never had a secretary in my past life, but then, Iâm not as busy as I am now. Itâs fair for me to want a secretary right. I know technically Iâm a student so Iâm just a kid but still...
While I complained about this in my head, Mazell finally arrived at the mansion. He brought Luguentz with him. Thatâs great. I heard it was Mazell that went all the way to bring Luguentz here.
âIâm really curious why you called me out at this time.â
âMy bad. Sorry to you too, Luguentz.â
âNah, itâs fine.â
He said that but he came here with a sword strapped on his waist. Is it his habit as an adventurer who is constantly on a battlefield? On the other hand, Mazell is wearing light equipment. I donât know which of their outfits is common in this world.
The maid, Tilla-san, poured us some black tea and left the room. Both Mazell and Luguentz are probably no longer strangers to her. I gulped the tea to quench my thirst. The tea snacks that have been prepared for today are cookies.
Mazell also drinks his tea while looking straight at me.
âSo, what happened?â
âTriot got destroyed by the demonâs army. This is still a secret though.â
A loud âclankâ sound resounded in the room. It was the sound of both Mazell and Luguentz putting down their tea cup to its saucer.
â...What did you just say?â
âThatâs why there are going to be refugees from Triot flooding into our kingdom. I need to go to meet them.â
I calmly replied to Luguentzâs astonished question. Oh please, I also donât know the details so can you stop glaring at me.
Mazell looked at me with a serious expression.
âIf Welner is going to be sent out, then itâs true, right?â
âYeah. The problem is I donât know how long I will be away. Thatâs why I called you here.â
Originally, I planned to introduce Elrich to Mazell but since now I donât have time I have no choice but to let him meet Elrich on his own.
âI met a person that seems to be reliable. Both of you are not good at using healing magic right?â
That is so for at least now. In the future, Mazell will also be able to somehow use healing magic. After all, omnipotence is one of a heroâs... or rather a protagonistâs common plot device.
âI can use a bit of healing magic but not to the point I can say Iâm good at it.â
âSeriously?â
Thatâs a surprise. That means Mazellâs current level is higher than my prediction. I turned my gaze to Luguentz and he silently shook his head. I donât know if that means Luguentz canât use magic at all or he just canât use healing magic. Well, whatever.
âAnyway, I met a person who can use healing magic and he also looks like heâs quite strong so I want both of you to meet him. I shouldâve gone with you but as you know, I canât. Thatâs why I want you to meet him by yourself.â
âAlright. If itâs someone you recommended, Iâll try to meet him.â
Though Iâm glad you easily agreed, Mazell, arenât you a bit too reckless? I guess a good person who easily trusts others is the personality of a typical protagonist of a game. Even in the game, there was no instance that Mazell doubted the information he got in a town. Yet, he never got into a bad situation because of that. Is it another one of the protagonistâs plot armor?
âHis name is Elrich Kluger. This is the inn where he currently stayed. I will also send a notice to him that you will come.â
âGot it.â
âIâm going too.â
âThatâs fine. I was just about to ask you to do that, Luguentz.â
Itâs great that Luguentz is also willing to go. As for the details, I will just leave it to them. Thereâs one other thing I want to discuss with Mazell. This thing is also important.
âIâll arrange it on my side and Iâve also told Norbert and my father about this. If the merchant corps returned to the capital before I did, you could do as you like with the weapons and armors they brought.â
âHuh?â
Strangely, Mazell and Luguentz are in unison. Is my world that strange?
âYouâre not saying that you will give all of them to Mazell, right?â
âThatâs exactly my meaning though.â
With a confused expression, both Luguentz and Mazell asked me. Well, I plan to give them all to Mazell from the beginning.
âI didnât let them purchase those armors and weapons for decorations, you know. As for me, I just need a spear. If I need more equipment, I can just buy them later.â
Since my skill is [Spearmanship], swords are useless to me. Well, I can use them to a certain level since thereâs a swordsmanship lesson in the academy. My grade in that lesson ranked in the bottom half or about the middle of the class though. Iâm no match for Mazell.
Plus, the equipment I had the merchantsâ corps gather is a sample for the kingdom. Itâs better for me if that sample can prove its usefulness. If there is some problem with the equipment in reality, then there will be no other choice but to shove them into the warehouse. However, if thereâs no problem, then making a skilled person use it is the best.
âIf youâre bothered by me giving them to you, letâs just say I let you borrow them. For me, the stronger you two become the better.â
âIâve always wondered...â With a baffled expression painted on his face, Luguentz started to talk.
âWhy are you willing to go this far?â
but if youâre talking about the equipment, then a personal reason would be because Mazell is my friend.â
This isnât a lie. Maybe itâs because of something like charisma but Iâve never felt unwilling to help Mazell. Now that I think about it, everyone is friendly to the gameâs protagonist. Many characters were willing to help him without any compensation.
In the game, no human has ever deceived the protagonist. He also never got arrested for intruding and ransacking random peopleâs houses. The latter should be a crime though. Although in real life, he didnât go around ransacking peopleâs houses.
I wonder if thereâs an invisible force that influenced me in this world that was formerly a game. I mean, I kept helping Mazell like the characters in the game.
âPublicly, helping Mazell is something that His Highness has requested, though Iâll still help Mazell regardless.â
âAs for me?â
âI feel like I can trust you and itâs better to have as many people as possible that can fight with devils.â
isnât even widely used in this world. Plus, I didnât lie when I said I helped them because Mazell is my friend and Luguentz is my friendâs companion.
âYouâre a good person like Mazell,â With an expression that I canât tell if what heâs saying is praise or not, Luguentz added.
âI feel like youâre saying that itâs unexpected for me to be a good person.â
Iâm not as good of a person as Mazell. All of my actions are done because I want to survive. I can say that Iâve done it because of my noblesse oblige as an excuse but saying that to Luguentz is a bad move.
âYeah, Iâll let you borrow them.â
Donât worry about that, Mazell. Because someday you will bring me the demon kingâs head. | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
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} |
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ãªãã ãããã£!ã | âHey-hey-hey! You didnât say anything about the death flag affecting us too!â
Petta was furious...!
So the others didnât know!?
That was a surprise, as I had assumed they were using the Miracle Effect with the knowledge that they were at risk, but believing in their own luck.
I might be able to hear something useful about the effects of Death Flag.
My guess was that everyone within range, regardless of them being friend or foe, was a target for having a flag grow out of their head. And then all of the attacks would be drawn towards them. But if there were some other rules that dictated who was chosen, I wanted to know.
Otherwise, it would just continue to be Hatake trying out his luck.
âSorry, but I kept it from you all on purpose.â
âWh-why! Weâre comrades!â
âBut wouldnât you all become anxious if you knew? I looked at the comments on our last prank video, and people were saying that you looked too nervous and were giving it away. They were starting to think that it was fake.â
âTh-thatâs...true...â
âI couldnât really tell, to be honest. But I suppose viewers are a lot more sensitive to such things. And so in order to make the enemy believe that the miracle effect would only target them, we needed to have perfect poker faces.â
âHmm... Still... Even if we did look nervous, itâs not like they would be able to tell the effect. So you could have still told us in advance.â
âBut that old guy is a really good player! I think...he would definitely notice!â
He was certainly exaggerating...!
I would not have guessed that the Death Flag could affect them as well, just because they looked nervous!
Besides, this was a battle with a great audience, so it wasnât even strange that they would look anxious...
We all were!
âHe is strong! The only way that I can beat him is with my luck! I donât really know if my luck is that strong, but everyone says that it is. And so I must rely on it...! And this...chaos is the only way! Death Flag!â
He ended the conversation with Petta by using the Miracle Effect again...!
We all looked at each otherâs heads and then made an âXâ with our arms to show that the other player was safe.
In other words, the death flag wasnât on any of us.
So...it was on the enemy again!
We needed to use our charge attacks...!
That being said, I had already used Arrow Tempest and Windgod Sky Tear!
Charging with Iâm Arrow was too dangerous, and Indraâs Arrow would take too much time to fall...
âGatling Inferno Arrow! Garbow! Use Missile Fish!â
âMy ranged charge attack is...ah, Claw Missile!â
âUh, how about Rolling Daybreak Star!â
That being said, if it was a clean hit, it should be enough to kill someone who was a lightly armored rear guard...!
âMiracle Effect... Sound Society!â
With Petta in the center of the party, five lines wrapped around them and numerous musical notes began to dance on top of them.
While a few arrows managed to slip through, most of the attacks were erased by the notes.
I see. Defense skills with no attack ability were not affected by Death Flag.
We would need to use Miracle Effects to break through the defense of that Miracle Effect, but should we really use them here...
After all, the defense effects would wear off with time.
And they would not be able to go on the offensive now that the Death Flag had grown.
So it might be best to wait and save our Miracle Effects...
âThanks, Petta! Wait. This time, Iâll make it grow on one of them! With my luck...â
âDonât do it. It wonât work. Youâve always been like this. Your luck abandons you when you think about it too much. If it was so easy, you would be a billionaire and nothing would be able to stop you.â
âB-but, this is the only way...â
âHatake! You are enough! Donât do something that you arenât used to. You are strong as yourself! Iâve told you to act like a leader or do your best because youâre the most popular on the team, but there is no need to take it so seriously! Thatâs our job!â
â...Hmm. Fine. I was just thinking about how I donât like to think too much while moving. And so from here, I will go back to how I always am and... Death Flag!â
Was it a bluff!?
No, no...! They would be in control again...!
I had to find out who had the flag...!
It wasnât on Garbow.
And it wasnât on Anne.
But Necoco...
âAh.â
Necocoâs head...there was a small golden flag between the cat ears.
So it works out for him once he stops overthinking it...!?
Thatâs ridiculous...
âI did it, Petta! I listened to your advice and it worked!â
âThatâs not what I meant... But you are amazing. My Miracle Effect is about to wear off. So youâll have to make up for it!â
âOf course!â
Then the charge attacks came...!
As we had used so many attacks, there was nothing left for defense...
Necoco jumped out from behind a wall and dashed!
...And then she disappeared.
âHey, hey. Now we wonât know where to attack!?â
âDonât worry! The effect of the Death Flag is still activated even if you canât see her! So just keep attacking randomly!â
âNo! Donât do that!â
It was the third member of Paradise Parade, who had been quiet up until now. He had an Arabian turban around his head and carried golden cymbals. His name was Cymba Dot.
âShe is clearing trying to lure the attacks towards her and then hit us with them! It would be possible with her speed!â
He had a feminine voice...!
Well, it wasnât unusual these days, especially in the great age of VR.
If there were people like that in real life, then there would be characters.
It made him more memorable and he looked strong...!
âBut if we donât attack, weâll be the ones who are targeted!?â
âFocus on the sounds and the dust! If sheâs running at full speed, she wonât be able to hide...!â
Cymbaâs body flew into the air.
And then his head...was cut off from his body...!
It was clear that Necoco had attacked him, but I thought that I had gore effects turned off!?
In-in any case, now there was one less enemy...
âI see! You can pass on the death flag by touching someone! And it will work on a dummy made with a charge attack skill!â
Cymba appeared from the smoke.
So the thing that had been decapitated was...a doll!
âNinpo â Body Replacement Technique! I saw the flag move over to the dummy! Your special Miracle Effect...might be more useful than it seemed at first, Hata-chan!â
He was also...a ninja!?
But his weapon was cymbals...!?
The fact that such combinations were possible showed how much freedom there was in NSO, but he was also amazing for thinking of such a thing...!
âAhhh, this is no time to be stunned by my appearance! What is really amazing...is my technique!â
Up until now, Cymba had been silent and had only used sound skills with the cymbals.
In other words, this person was strong enough to have plenty of tricks that they could save for later...!
âWhile testing your luck is fun, donât you think itâs time for a real fight? After all, we are in the top !â | {
"source": "manual-fanfic",
"missed_lines": 2,
"inserted_lines_src": 6,
"inserted_lines_trg": 2
} |
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ããããšãããããŸãã(ææ) (ææ) | How would people describe your judgment, your knowledge, your behaviors, in different situations?
Today I'd like to explore with you why the answer to this question will become profoundly important in an age where reputation will be your most valuable asset.
I'd like to start by introducing you to someone whose life has been changed by a marketplace fueled by reputation.
Sebastian Sandys has been a bed and breakfast host on Airbnb since 2008.
I caught up with him recently, where, over the course of several cups of tea, he told me how hosting guests from all over the world has enriched his life.
More than 50 people have come to stay in the 18th-century watchhouse he lives in with his cat, Squeak.
Now, I mention Squeak because Sebastian's first guest happened to see a rather large mouse run across the kitchen, and she promised that she would refrain from leaving a bad review on one condition: he got a cat.
And so Sebastian bought Squeak to protect his reputation.
Now, as many of you know, Airbnb is a peer-to-peer marketplace that matches people who have space to rent with people who are looking for a place to stay in over 192 countries.
The places being rented out are things that you might expect, like spare rooms and holiday homes, but part of the magic is the unique places that you can now access: treehouses, teepees, airplane hangars, igloos.
If you don't like the hotel, there's a castle down the road that you can rent for 5,000 dollars a night.
It's a fantastic example of how technology is creating a market for things that never had a marketplace before.
Now let me show you these heat maps of Paris to see how insanely fast it's growing.
This image here is from 2008.
The pink dots represent host properties.
Even four years ago, letting strangers stay in your home seemed like a crazy idea.
Now the same view in 2010.
And now, 2012.
There is an Airbnb host on almost every main street in Paris.
Now, what's happening here is people are realizing the power of technology to unlock the idling capacity and value of all kinds of assets, from skills to spaces to material possessions, in ways and on a scale never possible before.
It's an economy and culture called collaborative consumption, and, through it, people like Sebastian are becoming micro-entrepreneurs.
They're empowered to make money and save money from their existing assets.
But the real magic and the secret source behind collaborative consumption marketplaces like Airbnb isn't the inventory or the money.
It's using the power of technology to build trust between strangers.
This side of Airbnb really hit home to Sebastian last summer during the London riots.
He woke up around 9, and he checked his email and he saw a bunch of messages all asking him if he was okay.
Former guests from around the world had seen that the riots were happening just down the street, and wanted to check if he needed anything.
Sebastian actually said to me, he said, "Thirteen former guests contacted me before my own mother rang." Now, this little anecdote gets to the heart of why I'm really passionate about collaborative consumption, I'm going to try and spread this into a global movement.
Because at its core, it's about empowerment.
It's about empowering people to make meaningful connections, connections that are enabling us to rediscover a humanness that we've lost somewhere along the way, by engaging in marketplaces like Airbnb, like Kickstarter, like Etsy, that are built on personal relationships versus empty transactions.
Now the irony is that these ideas are actually taking us back to old market principles and collaborative behaviors that are hard-wired in all of us.
They're just being reinvented in ways that are relevant for the Facebook age.
We're literally beginning to realize that we have wired our world to share, swap, rent, barter or trade just about anything. We're sharing our cars on WhipCar, our bikes on Spinlister, our offices on Loosecubes, our gardens on Landshare. We're lending and borrowing money from strangers on Zopa and Lending Club.
We are trading lessons on everything from sushi-making to coding on Skillshare, and we're even sharing our pets on DogVacay.
Now welcome to the wonderful world of collaborative consumption that's enabling us to match wants with haves in more democratic ways.
Now, collaborative consumption is creating the start of a transformation in the way we think about supply and demand, but it's also a part of a massive value shift underway, where instead of consuming to keep up with the Joneses, people are consuming to get to know the Joneses.
But the key reason why it's taking off now so fast is because every new advancement of technology increases the efficiency and the social glue of trust to make sharing easier and easier.
Now, I've looked at thousands of these marketplaces, and trust and efficiency are always the critical ingredients.
Let me give you an example.
Meet 46-year-old Chris Mok, who has, I bet, the best job title here of SuperRabbit.
Now, four years ago, Chris lost his job, unfortunately, as an art buyer at Macy's, and like so many people, he struggled to find a new one during the recession.
And then he happened to stumble across a post about TaskRabbit. Now, the story behind TaskRabbit starts like so many great stories with a very cute dog by the name of Kobe.
Now what happened was, in February 2008, Leah and her husband were waiting for a cab to take them out for dinner, when Kobe came trotting up to them and he was salivating with saliva.
They realized they'd run out of dog food.
Kevin had to cancel the cab and trudge out in the snow.
Now, later that evening, the two self-confessed tech geeks starting talking about how cool it would be if some kind of eBay for errands existed.
Six months later, Leah quit her job, and TaskRabbit was born.
At the time, she didn't realize that she was actually hitting on a bigger idea she later called service networking.
It's essentially about how we use our online relationships to get things done in the real world.
Now the way TaskRabbit works is, people outsource the tasks that they want doing, name the price they're willing to pay, and then vetted Rabbits bid to run the errand.
Yes, there's actually a four-stage, rigorous interview process that's designed to find the people that would make great personal assistants and weed out the dodgy Rabbits.
Now, there's over 4,000 Rabbits across the United States and 5,000 more on the waiting list.
Now the tasks being posted are things that you might expect, like help with household chores or doing some supermarket runs.
I actually learned the other day that 12 and a half thousand loads of laundry have been cleaned and folded But I love that the number one task posted, over a hundred times a day, is something that many of us have felt the pain of doing: yes, assembling Ikea furniture. It's brilliant. Now, we may laugh, but Chris here is actually making up to 5,000 dollars a month
And 70 percent of this new labor force were previously unemployed or underemployed.
I think TaskRabbit and other examples of collaborative consumption are like lemonade stands on steroids. They're just brilliant.
Now, when you think about it, it's amazing, right, that over the past 20 years, we've evolved from trusting people online to share information to trusting to handing over our credit card information, and now we're entering the third trust wave: connecting trustworthy strangers to create all kinds of people-powered marketplaces. I actually came across this fascinating study by the Pew Center this week that revealed that an active Facebook user is three times as likely
as a non-Internet user to believe that most people are trustworthy.
Virtual trust will transform the way we trust one another face to face.
Now, with all of my optimism, and I am an optimist, comes a healthy dose of caution, or rather, an urgent need to address some pressing, complex questions.
How to ensure our digital identities reflect our real world identities? Do we want them to be the same?
How do we mimic the way trust is built face-to-face online?
How do we stop people who've behaved badly in one community doing so under a different guise?
In a similar way that companies often use some kind of credit rating to decide whether to give you a mobile plan, or the rate of a mortgage, marketplaces that depend on transactions between relative strangers need some kind of device to let you know that Sebastian and Chris are good eggs, and that device is reputation.
Reputation is the measurement of how much a community trusts you.
Let's just take a look at Chris.
You can see that over 200 people have given him an average rating over 4.99 out of 5.
There are over 20 pages of reviews of his work describing him as super-friendly and fast, and he's reached level 25, the highest level, making him a SuperRabbit.
Now â -- I love that word, SuperRabbit.
And interestingly, what Chris has noted is that as his reputation has gone up, so has his chances of winning a bid and how much he can charge.
In other words, for SuperRabbits, reputation has a real world value.
Now, I know what you might be thinking.
Well, this isn't anything new. Just think of power sellers on eBay or star ratings on Amazon.
The difference today is that, with every trade we make, comment we leave, person we flag, badge we earn, of how well we can and can't be trusted.
And it's not just the breadth but the volume of reputation data out there that is staggering.
Just consider this: Five million nights have been booked on Airbnb in the past six months alone.
30 million rides have been shared on Carpooling.com.
This year, two billion dollars worth of loans will go through peer-to-peer lending platforms.
This adds up to millions of pieces of reputation data on how well we behave or misbehave.
Now, capturing and correlating the trails of information that we leave in different places is a massive challenge, but one we're being asked to figure out.
What the likes of Sebastian are starting to rightfully ask is, shouldn't they own their reputation data?
Shouldn't the reputation that he's personally invested on building on Airbnb mean that it should travel with him from one community to another?
What I mean by this is, say he started selling second-hand books on Amazon. Why should he have to start from scratch?
It's a bit like when I moved from New York to Sydney.
It was ridiculous. I couldn't get a mobile phone plan because my credit history didn't travel with me.
I was essentially a ghost in the system.
Now I'm not suggesting that the next stage of the reputation economy is about adding up multiple ratings into some kind of empty score.
People's lives are too complex, and who wants to do that?
I also want to be clear that this isn't about adding up tweets and likes and friends in a clout-like fashion.
Those guys are measuring influence, not behaviors that indicate our trustworthiness.
But the most important thing that we have to keep in mind is that reputation is largely contextual.
Just because Sebastian is a wonderful host does not mean that he can assemble Ikea furniture.
The big challenge is figuring out what data makes sense to pull, because the future's going to be driven by a smart aggregation of reputation, not a single algorithm.
It's only a matter of time before we'll be able to perform a Facebook- or Google-like search and see a complete picture of someone's behaviors in different contexts over time.
I envision a realtime stream of who has trusted you, when, where and why, your reliability on TaskRabbit, your cleanliness as a guest on Airbnb, the knowledge that you display on Quora or [unclear], they'll all live together in one place, and this will live in some kind of reputation dashboard that will paint a picture of your reputation capital.
Now this is a concept that I'm currently researching and writing my next book on, and currently define as the worth of your reputation, your intentions, capabilities and values across communities and marketplaces.
This isn't some far-off frontier.
There are actually a wave of startups like Connect.Me and Legit and TrustCloud that are figuring out how you can aggregate, monitor and use your online reputation.
Now, I realize that this concept may sound a little Big Brother to some of you, and yes, there are some enormous transparency and privacy issues to solve, but ultimately, if we can collect our personal reputation, we can actually control it more, and extract the immense value that will flow from it.
Also, more so than our credit history, we can actually shape our reputation.
Just think of Sebastian and how he bought the cat to influence his.
Now privacy issues aside, the other really interesting issue I'm looking at is how do we empower digital ghosts, people [who] for whatever reason, are not active online, but are some of the most trustworthy people in the world?
How do we take their contributions to their jobs, their communities and their families, and convert that value into reputation capital?
Ultimately, when we get it right, reputation capital in who has power, trust and influence.
A three-digit score, your traditional credit history, that only 30 percent of us actually know what it is, will no longer be the determining factor in how much things cost, what we can access, and, in many instances, limit what we can do in the world.
Indeed, reputation is a currency that I believe will become more powerful than our credit history in the 21st century.
Reputation will be the currency that says that you can trust me.
Now the interesting thing is, reputation that makes collaborative consumption work and scale, but the sources it will be generated from, and its applications, are far bigger than this space alone.
Let me give you one example from the world of recruiting, where reputation data will make the résumé seem like an archaic relic of the past.
Four years ago, tech bloggers and entrepreneurs Joel Spolsky and Jeff Atwood, decided to start something called Stack Overflow.
Now, Stack Overflow is basically a platform where experienced programmers can ask other good programmers highly detailed technical questions on things like tiny pixels and chrome extensions.
This site receives five and a half thousand questions a day, and 80 percent of these receive accurate answers.
Now users earn reputation in a whole range of ways, but it's basically by convincing their peers they know what they're talking about.
Now a few months after this site launched, the founders heard about something interesting, and it actually didn't surprise them.
What they heard was that users were putting their reputation scores on the top of their résumés, and that recruiters were searching the platform to find people with unique talents.
Now thousands of programmers today are finding better jobs this way, because Stack Overflow and the reputation dashboards provide a priceless window into how someone really behaves, and what their peers think of them.
But the bigger principle of what's happening behind Stack Overflow, I think, is incredibly exciting.
People are starting to realize that the reputation they generate in one place has value beyond the environments from which it was built.
You know, it's very interesting.
When you talk to super-users, whether that's SuperRabbits or super-people on Stack Overflow, or Uberhosts, they all talk about how having a high reputation unlocks a sense of their own power.
On Stack Overflow, it creates a level playing field, enabling the people with the real talent to rise to the top.
On Airbnb, the people often become more important than the spaces. On TaskRabbit, it gives people control of their economic activity.
Now at the end of my tea with Sebastian, he told me how, on a bad, rainy day, when he hasn't had a customer in his bookstore, he thinks of all the people around the world who've said something wonderful about him, and what that says about him as a person.
He's turning 50 this year, and he's convinced that the rich tapestry of reputation he's built on Airbnb will lead him to doing something interesting with the rest of his life.
You know, there are only a few windows in history where the opportunity exists to reinvent part of how our socioeconomic system works.
We're living through one of those moments.
I believe that we are at the start of a collaborative revolution that will be as significant as the Industrial Revolution.
In the 20th century, the invention of traditional credit transformed our consumer system, and in many ways controlled who had access to what.
In the 21st century, new trust networks, and the reputation capital they generate, will reinvent the way we think about wealth, markets, power and personal identity, in ways we can't yet even imagine.
Thank you very much. | {
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èŽããããšãããããŸãã | Like, they're very kind of -- they don't go as deep or as emotionally engaging as they possibly could be and I'd like to change all that.
Hit me.
OK. So I mean, this is the kind of status quo interface, right?
It's very flat, kind of rigid.
And OK, so you could sex it up and like go to a much more lickable Mac, you know, but really it's the kind of same old crap we've had for the last, you know, 30 years.
Like I think we really put up with a lot of crap with our computers.
I mean it's point and click, it's like the menus, icons, it's all the kind of same thing.
And so one kind of information space that I take inspiration from is my real desk.
It's so much more subtle, so much more visceral -- you know, what's visible, what's not.
And I'd like to bring that experience to the desktop.
So I kind of have a -- this is BumpTop.
It's kind of like a new approach to desktop computing.
So you can bump things -- they're all physically, you know, manipulable and stuff.
And instead of that point and click, it's like a push and pull, things collide as you'd expect them. Just like on my real desk, I can -- let me just grab these guys -- I can turn things into piles instead of just the folders that we have.
And once things are in a pile I can browse them by throwing them into a grid, or you know, flip through them like a book or I can lay them out like a deck of cards.
When they're laid out, I can pull things to new locations or delete things or just quickly sort a whole pile, you know, just immediately, right?
And then, it's all smoothly animated, instead of these jarring changes you see in today's interfaces.
Also, if I want to add something to a pile, well, how do I do that?
I just toss it to the pile, and it's added right to the top. It's a kind of nice way.
Also some of the stuff we can do is, for these individual icons we thought -- I mean, how can we play with the idea of an icon, and push that further?
And one of the things I can do is make it bigger if I want to emphasize it and make it more important.
But what's really cool is that since there's a physics simulation running under this, it's actually heavier. So the lighter stuff doesn't really move but if I throw it at the lighter guys, right?
So it's cute, but it's also like a subtle channel of conveying information, right?
This is heavy so it feels more important. So it's kind of cool.
Despite computers everywhere paper really hasn't disappeared, because it has a lot of, I think, valuable properties.
And some of those we wanted to transfer to the icons in our system.
So one of the things you can do to our icons, just like paper, is crease them and fold them, just like paper. Remember, you know, something for later.
Or if you want to be destructive, you can just crumple it up and, you know, toss it to the corner.
Also just like paper, around our workspace we'll pin things up to the wall to remember them later, and I can do the same thing here, and you know, you'll see post-it notes and things like that around people's offices.
And I can pull them off when I want to work with them.
So, one of the criticisms of this kind of approach to organization is that, you know, "Okay, well my real desk is really messy. I don't want that mess on my computer."
So one thing we have for that is like a grid align, kind of -- so you get that more traditional desktop. Things are kind of grid aligned.
More boring, but you still have that kind of colliding and bumping.
And you can still do fun things like make shelves on your desktop.
Let's just break this shelf. Okay, that shelf broke.
I think beyond the icons, I think another really cool domain for this software -- I think it applies to more than just icons and your desktop -- but browsing photographs.
I think you can really enrich the way we browse our photographs and bring it to that kind of shoebox of, you know, photos with your family on the kitchen table kind of thing.
I can toss these things around. They're so much more tangible and touchable -- and you know I can double-click on something to take a look at it.
And I can do all that kind of same stuff I showed you before.
So I can pile things up, I can flip through it, I can, you know -- okay, let's move this photo to the back, let's delete this guy here, and I think it's just a much more rich kind of way of interacting with your information.
And that's BumpTop. Thanks! | {
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