Cloud Thinking

"The royal family has two research institutes," Helia explained to Watersise during the interval between memory switching, "one is the Science Research Institute and the other is the Magic Research Institute."

"The two have completely different research directions. The Magic Research Institute focuses on the development of magical tools and the improvement of spells; while the Science Research Institute is dedicated to the innovation of production technology and the optimization of production tools."

When Helia first learned about it, she found it quite interesting. Science and magic, two seemingly opposing systems, miraculously coexisted and prospered in this world.

Logically speaking, in a world where magic is so advanced, the level of technology should be quite advanced.

But the reality is puzzling - this place has not even entered the steam age and still relies entirely on primitive manual labor.

This is simply unreasonable.

"The research institute we are seeing now should refer to the Institute of Science."

"The history of the Academy of Sciences is even older, and it is said to have existed since the founding of the empire. The royal family would hire top experts in various fields, provide them with resources, and support them in developing new technologies and tools."

"The original intention was to benefit the people, but now it seems that it is nothing more than supporting a group of mediocre people with empty reputations, relying on the glory of their ancestors to parade around."

The figure of Osinote loomed in the distance, as if preparing to lead them into the next part of the story.

Helia rubbed her temples, trying to recall the imperial history she had learned when she first came here.

"If I remember correctly..." she muttered to herself, "the new Livestock Tax Law was promulgated in 1357 of the Imperial Calendar. The reigning monarch at the time was..."

"Andekli III—" Her tone suddenly became sharp, "A true tyrant!"

"He ascended the throne at the age of twelve, indulging in pleasure and favoring treacherous officials. When faced with an invasion, he acted arrogantly and forcibly mobilized an army of 100,000. However, he was ultimately defeated by the enemy's elite 6,000 soldiers. Ultimately, he was forced to cede territory and pay compensation to barely keep the empire from falling apart."

Watersiser glanced down at her, his tone teasing: "Is it appropriate to comment on your ancestors like this?"

Helia raised her eyebrows in disdain: "I'm not from this world, what does it have to do with me?"

"Besides, he did such a terrible job, so shouldn't people be allowed to criticize him? The official history records this incident vaguely. They knew it was shameful, but they didn't dare to speak out, so they just glossed over it."

"Those folk histories are much worse than what I said."

The veil of memory slowly opened, and Helia saw an old man with frosty silver hair through Osinotte's eyes.

His refined manners and natural bearing all demonstrate the aristocratic style accumulated over the years.

The moment the old man's face came into view, Helia frowned unconsciously.

This face is simply the epitome of a villain - it looks kind on the surface, with smile lines carved by time at the corners of its eyes, but it cannot hide the shrewd calculations flowing in its eyes.

With this appearance, he is exactly the typical character in the drama who is hypocritical and full of conspiracy.

The director of the institute was named Kafmankis. When Helia heard him introduce himself, she had an unexpected yet reasonable feeling that he was from the Fitros family.

This shows that he is most likely a pagan who believes in wisdom and is crazy.

She thought of the strange specimens made by Osinolte -

Well, if the dean didn’t have a problem with his brain, he probably wouldn’t think those specimens were so-called art.

Anyway, she just felt creepy after watching it and couldn't appreciate it at all.

The dean treated Osinotte generously: comfortable housing, exquisite meals, and attentive service. He personally took Osinotte to visit the institute's various research centers, introduced him to renowned scholars, and frequently took him to aristocratic social events.

Comparing the two, one can notice the difference between the dean and the viscount - at least the dean really treats him as a human being and gives him the dignity of a human being.

And the Viscount - he himself said that Orsignor was just one of his works.

At first, Osinote was very cautious because he had experienced the fall from beauty to despair, and that feeling was very familiar to him. He was afraid that everything in front of him was just the candy he got as charity before the stick fell on him.

He has nothing left to lose, he has even lost himself, what are they still looking for?

He was as numb as a walking corpse, enjoying the good life that he would never be able to live in his entire life, and experiencing the so-called aristocratic life of the best of people.

One day, he saw a groom being cruelly whipped because he failed to control his horse and the horse ran out and frightened the guests. His flesh was torn apart and blood splattered.

There was only a floor-to-ceiling window between the two of them, but they were like two completely different worlds.

He caught a glimpse of the groom looking up at him, his pitiful eyes silently begging the passing nobleman to be kind enough to save him.

In fact, he did speak out to stop him. The groom's back was already a bloody mess and he was almost dead, but he still tried to reach out and grab Osinotto's trouser legs to kowtow to him.

He heard him slur his words: "Thank you... sir..."

But Osinotto froze as if struck by lightning. He lowered his eyes to look at the groom. That was the life he had saved with just a few words, but he actually felt a little afraid.

He fled from the scene.

He got his first taste of power, and it made him sick.

In a trance, he seemed to have switched places with the groom. He could only kneel on the ground and beg, risking his life and property on a moment of leniency and kindness from the superior man, in order to survive.

He must rely on them to survive.

What a sad fact, and he has only lived to see the truth of this world now.

He locked himself in the room and refused to eat or drink, as if he wanted to starve himself to death. His eyes were dull, and he huddled in a corner with his legs hugged, staring blankly, muttering the names of his daughter and wife.

He did not break down when he was troubled and targeted, he did not break down when he had to kill his favorite animals, and he did not break down when his parents and children died one after another and his wife left him.

But now, he just caught a glimpse of the punished groom and spoke to save him. This tiny thing was like the last snowflake before the avalanche, easily breaking down his defenses and plunging him into despair.

On the third day, the dean walked into the room carrying a birdcage covered with black cloth. The dense bars of the iron cage cast spider-web-like shadows on the floor.

He placed the cage gently in front of Osinotto as if displaying a work of art, and there was a dramatic pause as he lifted the curtain - in the cage was the parrot that Osinotto had made himself and given to the tax director.

However, the eye sockets that originally held the Imperial Lion emblem were now filled with a pair of cloudy human eyes.

The eyeballs moved strangely in the shadow of the birdcage, and when the dean tapped the cage frame with his fingers, the parrot suddenly fluttered around like a convulsion.

It used vocal cords that did not belong to birds to tear out a hoarse human voice: "I'm... sorry..." Each syllable was like a blunt knife scraping the eardrum.

Hearing this, a chill ran down Osinotto's spine, and he slowly raised his haggard face from his arms.

He was very familiar with this voice. It was the voice of the person who had caused him to almost lose everything.

He saw that the parrot's wings had been replaced by pale human hands, with the knuckles bent at impossible angles.

Even more disgusting was the bird's beak - two purple lips were sewn together there, and a swollen tongue hung from the corner of the cracked mouth.

The originally gorgeous feathers were replaced by tufts of hair with follicles, and those brown hairs rustled with the parrot's movements.

The entire body looked like a failed experiment in which a human was forced into a bird's skeleton, with pale yellow pus oozing from the seams between the skin and feathers.

It's absolutely disgusting.

Osinotto felt a strong nausea, but because he had not eaten for many days, he could only retch and cough up some acid.

In the past, he only made animal specimens or spliced ​​objects with animals, such as the parrot.

But splicing living people with animals and twisting humans into animal shapes has gone beyond the scope of bad taste and is completely a psychopathic behavior.

He stared blankly at the dean, whose face was stained with his own vomit but still had a gentle smile on his face, his eyes filled with unprecedented fear.

Yes, to these bigwigs, a human life is insignificant.

They can kill people at will without punishment, and the world revolves around them.

Didn't he understand this principle a long time ago?

"Osinotto, guess what name I gave this work?" The dean gently wiped the stains from the corners of Osinotto's mouth with a handkerchief, his tone so gentle that it was creepy.

Osinotto did not want to know, nor did he want to answer.

But the dean said to himself: "Revenge of power, that's what I called it."

He held Osinotto's shoulders and pulled him up with irresistible force, explaining the truth of this world like a gentle and persuasive teacher:

"Once, because he held power, he could torture you, hurt you, and destroy everything you had."

"And now, with greater power crushing him, he has become the target of retaliation."

"Big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimps. This is the eternal law of this world."

“Only with power can you live as a human being; without power, you are just a poor creature controlled by power, trampled upon and treated like livestock.”

"Do you want to continue living like before, as a humble animal, waiting for the crushing power that will come at any time..."

"Or should I become the one who holds power and walk in the world as a human being?"

Osinotto's empty eyes seemed to penetrate the ground, and the dean's words floated past his ears like a breeze.

He understood the principles of this world, but what was the point of arguing about them now?

My parents have long turned to dust, my wife and children have been scattered and nowhere to be found, and my once warm home is now only a ruin.

He lived like an empty shell, a walking corpse, and even breathing felt like a burden.

The tragic death of his enemy did not bring the expected pleasure, but instead made him even more tired of this world where the strong prey on the weak.

Power? Status? These illusory things were nothing but a ridiculous farce in his eyes.

Even if I reach the pinnacle of power, what good will it do? Can I bring back my lost loved ones? Can I heal the wounds in my heart?

The dean's sharp gaze pierced through the despair in his eyes, and his voice became softer. "Osinotto, you are still young." He gently patted the young man's shoulder. "I see unprecedented potential in you. You are destined to go further than I have."

"When I was your age," the dean's gaze grew distant, "I was still indulging in alcohol and women, wasting my time in a muddleheaded way."

"It wasn't until I was thirty-five that I finally woke up." The dean stroked the ruby ​​ring on his finger. "Even then, I only barely touched the threshold of power."

"But things are different now," the dean's voice suddenly became enthusiastic. "With me paving the way for you, you will surely achieve even greater success. The world will be proud of you, and history will remember your name."

A wry smile played at the corner of Osinotto's mouth.

Fame? Glory? These intangible things sounded like floating clouds in the sky to him.

"I know you've become disillusioned with this world," the dean's voice suddenly deepened, "but I can see that you're still a kind-hearted child at heart. Otherwise, you wouldn't have chosen to save that groom that day."

The dean's gaze grew penetrating. "But there are many people in this world who are more miserable than that groom. You understand the suffering of the lower classes better than I do. Don't you want to try to change this?"

"With power," the dean said, his finger arcing in the air, "you can do whatever you want. Abolish excessive taxes, punish corrupt officials, liquidate those nobles who take human lives lightly... As long as you climb high enough, all of this is within your control."

"The opportunity is right in front of us." The dean's gaze was like an impenetrable net, enveloping Osinotto and making it difficult for him to escape. "It all depends on whether you can seize it and whether you dare to seize it."

The Dean's voice faded in the room, and he realized he had said enough.

Now, it's time to give Osinotto some time to think.

He knocked gently on the cage containing the twisted and horrible human-made parrot, as if to remind it, and also as if with a hint of warning, then turned and walked towards the door.

The monster in the cage was still mechanically repeating "I'm sorry", and the sound was particularly harsh in the empty room.

Just as the dean was about to step over the threshold, Osinoto's hoarse voice suddenly came from behind him: "If... If I really climb to the pinnacle of power as you wish..." His voice paused, "Does it mean that I also have the opportunity to kill you?"

The dean's footsteps suddenly stopped, and his back froze for a moment at the door.

After a moment of silence, he slowly turned around, and a bright smile bloomed on his wrinkled face.

Those cloudy old eyes were surprisingly bright at this moment, as if two dim lamps were lit.

"Of course," the dean said, his voice filled with unconcealed joy. He looked directly into Osinotto's eyes and nodded solemnly. "As long as you want, I'm willing to sacrifice my life for you at any time."

Osinoto's brows furrowed even more tightly, and he stared at the dean's wrinkled face: "Why...why are you helping me like this?"

The dean's fingers gently stroked the door frame, as if caressing a precious work of art: "Because what I hate most is to see talented people buried..."

His eyes softened, "just like a gardener who can't bear to see delicate flowers trampled in the mud."