“Hey, Lucio.”
“…Cesar.”
As I was reading, I closed my book upon seeing Cesar walking toward me.
“Damn it. Nothing is going right.”
Cesar approached and grumbled while taking off his cap. His short hair was coolly exposed. I asked him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just checked the menu for this week, and it’s ridiculous. That damn retort pouch soup shows up every time.”
I was curious about what had him sulking this time, but upon hearing it, it was understandable. I sighed alongside Cesar.
“Sigh… I guess I have to bring out my hidden treasure again.”
“You’ve been saving up salt again, haven’t you?”
On the days when combat rations are distributed, there are times when we receive biscuits sprinkled with salt.
Every time that happens, I often scrape off the salt from the biscuits and collect it in a clean glass jar. Cesar looked at me with a disgusted expression.
“You really are something else.”
“I’m just preparing for an unpredictable future. No one knows how things will change in such a future.”
“Does a future with retort pouch soup every day fit into that preparation? Please.”
“Don’t be so harsh. If I sprinkle some salt and soak the dry bread, it’s at least bearable.”
“Even Tucker wouldn’t eat that crap.”
Tucker was the name of a dog raised in the camp. The soldiers, including Cesar, started raising a dog abandoned by refugees to catch rats in the trenches.
The name was derived from Corporal Tucker, one of the squad members. It was named because Corporal Tucker had a large spot next to his eye, resembling the spotted pattern around the dog’s eyes.
Right, that’s what the name was. That thought suddenly crossed my mind.
“…?”
Why was that? It was such a name.
It felt like an old man recalling the past. I couldn’t shake the vague feeling.
“How are the injured patients?”
It was Cesar who brought me back from my thoughts. I gathered my gaze and focused on him.
“Well, it’s the same as usual. Thankfully, there aren’t any serious patients.”
“That’s a relief. I wonder when those pesky little ear-covered brats will back off.”
“Is it already a week?”
“It’s the same week, Lucio. At this point, it’s love. Those crazy elves.”
Cesar pulled out a cigarette from his pocket but looked at me before putting it back. I didn’t stop him. I wasn’t fond of cigarette smoke.
“So, what book were you looking at this time?”
“Oh, this…”
I flipped the closed book over to show Cesar the cover. It was titled “101 Actions for Positive Thinking.”
Seeing the title brought a strange expression to Cesar’s face.
“What a bizarre title. Didn’t you just say you’re getting transferred soon? So, you’ve been engrossed in this manipulated emotion of emptiness?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m saying, why are you reading such ridiculous books?”
Cesar shifted his position to sit more comfortably. I sensed that a lengthy discussion would follow, so I too adjusted my posture.
Cesar continued.
“If after reading such a book, you genuinely start thinking positively as the title suggests, that’s proof that your self has succumbed to hypocrisy.”
“Succumbed to hypocrisy? What are you talking about?”
“It’s simple. Books containing non-objective knowledge indicate a portion of the author’s intellectual vanity. If after reading such a book you genuinely start thinking that way, it’s not because your self has awakened, but because you’ve conformed to the author’s intentions.”
Before joining the military, Cesar said he had worked as a teaching assistant at an academy in a nearby small town. What he was saying was complicated, but it wasn’t beyond my understanding. I asked Cesar.
“How does that lead to the claim of succumbing to hypocrisy?”
“Think about it. Did the author who wrote this book really write it solely to help the readers adopt positive thoughts? Not even close.”
Cesar paused for a moment, then rolled his finger into a circle.
“It’s either money or fame, or maybe both. In the end, there’s nothing done in this world that isn’t motivated by money or fame. The author of this book is merely showcasing artificial good intention for royalties and reputation. If that’s not hypocrisy, then what is?”
“….”
“The world has changed, Lucio. Human greed has reached as far as emotions, the first element that makes up the self.”
To put it simply, it could be called emotional commercialization. Cesar muttered while swatting at a bug clinging to his cheek.
I quietly stared at the book in my hand and slowly closed my eyes. I felt the cold earthen wall of the trench against the back of my head.
‘…Hypocrisy.’
So, artificially created emotions. Cesar was critiquing that.
Upon grasping that, for some reason, a pain blossomed in my chest. I tried to control my trembling eyebrows.
– …Tonneli. Antorelli…
Someone was shaking me. It must be Cesar. I opened my eyes slowly.
“Professor Antorelli. Are you alright?”
And there was a middle-aged man with red eyes and a white beard.
He carefully held my shoulder and was rousing me from deep thoughts. I slowly nodded.
“I’m fine.”
“Ugh… If your condition isn’t good, do let me know.”
Ignoring the worried expression of Duke Adelhaid, I followed the butler walking in front of me.
My memories with Cesar… They weren’t bad memories.
*
The vast sky, dominated by birds cutting through the air with their wings wide open.
The solid earth, dominated by beasts showcasing their superior physical abilities.
The cold, dark sea, dominated by sharks with sharp teeth and massive whales…
Then, where do we humans reign? Is there even a place for humans to stand?
If I were to answer that question… well.
The human domain is the mind. Humans dominate the realm of imagination and, furthermore, the sphere of perception.
Somewhere in the roots of knowledge in our heads and the sprouting unnamed buds, there blooms a voiceless imagery.
That is emotion.
Humans are the masters of knowledge and emotion. Only when we can control these will we truly be called human.
Therefore…
We, who reign at the top of sentient beings, must not be swayed by personal emotions. We should control them, yet not be swayed in turn. I too, am no exception.
I thought I wouldn’t be swayed by emotions. For that fleeting moment that matched the speed of thought, I promised not to forsake my nature as a human.
Of course, it was a promise that wouldn’t hold. I endlessly reneged on the promises I’d made to myself.
I must not have regrets. And yet, I regretted.
I must not bring it up. And yet, I recalled.
I must not become angry.
…I became angry.
Dozens, hundreds, perhaps even thousands of times… there had been so many instances that counting them became meaningless, and I had never once upheld the vows I’d made to myself.
I thought of myself as a caterpillar. In reality, I was stuck in the form of a caterpillar and had yet to become a pupa.
Therefore, I struggle with all my might to break free from the waves that chip away at me.
Because I am a caterpillar. I am a caterpillar that cannot become a pupa or a butterfly.
And so, I came to this place to see another caterpillar.
“This is the place.”
“…..”
“By the way, are you sure you don’t need to bathe first? At least the clothes you’ll wear…”
Ignoring a fidgeting Maximilian for some reason, I gazed at the firmly closed door. I neither reached out nor moved my feet, nor did I take my eyes off that spot. I simply stood there.
I only stared. Thinking that Laura would be inside.
And then, I reached out and grabbed the doorknob. Dampness flowed down my arm.
There was not even the slightest hint of tension, not even as much as an ant’s toenail. The only emotions I governed were their paltry counterparts: extreme melancholy, self-hatred, and boredom. There was no room for any feeling resembling tension.
I didn’t feel bored at the thought of meeting Laura. Right now, I only felt boredom at my own breath that was alive and breathing in this moment.
My head began to throb and ache. Having completed all my preparations, I was experiencing a bit of phantom pain. It was just as I was about to turn the doorknob without showing any signs.
“…Professor Antorelli.”
It was the Duke Adelhaid calling me. I halted mid-turn of the doorknob and just turned my head to look at him.
“Laura isn’t in very good shape right now.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I’m glad you know, but if Laura shows any strange signs…”
“I understand.”
I felt a bit annoyed. Perhaps sensing the irritation seeping through my tone, Duke Adelhaid fell silent. I casually finished turning the doorknob.
What state would Laura, who was inside, be in? Would she be suffering? Would she be shivering in an unknown pain, wilting away? Or could she have already shaken it off and be gathering her strength?
Imagining Laura’s figure behind the slowly opening door, I opened it.
And there was no answer.
“……”
Her eyelids were swollen red, as if she had just been crying. Similarly, her eyes were slightly bloodshot, and her naturally red eyes looked ever more vivid. Those clear, ruby-like eyes sparkled as they faced me.
Laura von Adelheit. She was neither writhing in pain nor sickly like she was about to perish, nor was she recovering.
The light in Laura’s eyes told me.
She had been waiting for me. She had been waiting for salvation. She trusted that I would come to help her. Laura’s pure, clear eyes said that. Unintentionally, my mouth opened.
“Laura von Adelheit.”
“Prof, Professor…?”
Laura’s slightly cracked voice seeped into the turmoil within me. I stared at her blankly.
Was it because it went beyond my expectations? Or was it because those red eyes were so clear that I momentarily lost my senses?
Who knows. One thing was certain: my self, which was trying to break away from my control, was revealing its faint pulse.
That was all. I gathered the remaining strength and moved my trembling lips.
“…I admit it.”
I admit it. If you ask what I am admitting… well.
“I acknowledge that I was wrong….”
I recognize that I was wrong. My anger was purely manipulated emotion, almost a purpose-less rage. It was an empty feeling rooted in the deficiency of my self.
– Human greed has reached as far as emotions, the first element that makes up the self.
So, it was an emotion rooted in my own greed… I acknowledge it.
I slowly stepped into the room. Towards those tear-filled red eyes staring blankly at me, I took one step.
And then, towards my own weak breaths, I took another step. I could sense it.
‘…It’s time.’
It was time. Lucio Antorelli.
It was time to become human.
