Chapter 99 - Axioms and gems

Vern meandered towards the Resource Allocation Hall that the Captain had pointed out yesterday. But why the hell was it so hard to locate? This castle seemed more like a labyrinth than anything else.

I should ask De Flanc for a map or something, he thought, passing through one corridor after another. His pocket watch showed it was around eight in the morning.

He hadn't really felt the time flow by as he read that article and then the book of Axioms. That article was very…enlightening, to say the least.

Everyone had put far more thought into this whole deal than he'd assumed. Kingsmen had given away the Bloodborne Infusion art to more than a couple Observers the very next day after Duskfall.

However, Professor Arlan was the only one to have produced tangible results already.

According to the article, there wasn't much in the name of risk for an Observer to transfuse the old blood, at least not in the first infusion. Rest were yet to be tested thoroughly.

Vern hadn't made up his mind as of yet, but he wondered if he could strike a balance in this situation. If Mistress Amelia was okay with it, he was leaning towards accepting the first infusion as long as he could stop right there.

If Mistress didn't mind him never infusing it a second time, it might actually be a steal. He could always perceive the blood's effects step-by-step and judge whether it was worth further going down the path.

He was hoping to wait at least until there was more study on the topic. He'd been focused on the negatives of the blood all this while, but its benefits were really not to be dismissed.

It would boost him in every aspect where he currently fell short. Honestly, he might even be the fortunate one here. If the trend of the old blood being purely advantageous continued, it wouldn't be long before there was competition over who got the chance to infuse it.

Surely, there wasn't an unlimited amount of it.

Anyways. He shook his head and stopped a servant to ask for directions yet another time, and the man was happy to help.

"So, second corridor, then left and another left, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

Vern let out a deep breath and eyed the second turn. It was just like in that book about Axioms. It had two axioms, as well.

However, he was still salty over the fact that the whole book was full of speculations and explanations from Random Observers. Worse, half the pages were conjectures on the Institute's origins and history of the ones who uncovered these nuggets of wisdom.

The Axioms themselves were nothing but two simple lines. He retrieved his notepad, where he had jotted them down.

'The first axiom: Every Viewpoint is unique.'

'The second axiom: Comprehension of an object's representation is necessary to perceive it.'

From what Vern could gather, there should be more axioms than just these, but it seemed even these two were dug out only after a maddening amount of archeology.

He knew about the former for quite a while and already understood its implications, but the latter was quite peculiar.

It had very far-reaching consequences. When he asked Irene the paranoid question of whether she was drawing his portrait to paint him out of existence, she rebutted him by referring to this second axiom.

That is to say she couldn't have used a Vision on him even if she wanted to. But that wasn't it. He'd actually seen this in play in many situations already. He just didn't know it was such a ubiquitous nature of reality.

In essence, it meant that one cannot perceive or envision changes to anything that wasn't primarily Objective.

This was why one Observer couldn't directly use their Visions inside another of their kind. This was the logic as to why so many things appeared as black holes in his perception.

Every time he couldn't perceive things, it was because their representation was in a form he didn't understand.

If he were to extend Irene's analogy, his eyes only knew how to draw a personal painting from the objective reality that had infinite colors. It couldn't paint it for him based on someone else's personal painting.

Thus, as objects became more subjective, his vision faltered—unsure how to interpret them. This was why Irene was focusing on an Observer's singularity so much. After shading his perception, he became more subjective, or singular and hence able to avoid appearing in others’ perceptions.

But this was where it got interesting. The axiom didn't say that one could never perceive these things. One just needs the 'comprehension' of that object's state to do so.

It gave rise to very terrifying thoughts in his mind, suggesting that someone could use their Visions within his body rampantly as long as they 'comprehended' his Viewpoint.

Vern had been quite surprised by the fact that no one asked him about his Viewpoint. That was the first thing he made up many excuses for. He had planned to pass himself off as someone who views everything as a sword and a shield—something that justified his Visions using a different logic.

But no one asked him. Not even Mistress Amelia. She told him to use his Viewpoint to help with the training but didn't ask what it was—as one would have otherwise expected from a mentor.

Beyond that, neither Ambrose nor Captain Shinsei had asked him about it explicitly. He was always on guard about someone doing so because he knew his Enlightenment wasn't straightforward like others.

But it all made sense now.

One could even say it was an Observer's closest secret. It was beyond rude to ask anyone how they viewed the world. It's what made them singular. It's what gave them a sense of stability in this world full of dangers.

This also hammered home how desperate Esther must've been back in the station to allow him into her very thoughts, going as far as to personally explain her viewpoint. The risk she took in doing so was immense.

She probably understands my Viewpoint to an extent as well, he mused, trying to figure out if it could potentially be a problem.

But as with all things in life, nothing was black and white. Comprehension of another's viewpoint wasn't some switch that one could just flip and turn their innards into paint, rhythm, veins, or whatever.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The higher one's comprehension of another's viewpoint, the greater the control one can assert over their adversary.

It's a mutual risk, and she has far more to lose than I do. He smiled ruefully. I don't even know where I'm headed just yet.

In that sense, the Observers following the same shade sequence were the greatest threat to each other. He didn't know exactly how bad their interactions could get, given Irene said that the Construct of Isolation also contributed to singularity, but it was something to keep in mind.

Then, he flipped over to that page from Convergence Note. The axiom had implications for using this, too.

The underlying method of communication was the 'trace' of one's viewpoint. Which was pretty much the same thing as understanding someone's viewpoint, just on a very surface level. Still bad news all in all.

He resolved,I shouldn't give away my trace to others casually. But this reminded him of the grave problem, and he sighed. How should I start the conversation with Esther?

There were no more excuses. It would be hitting two birds with one stone. He wanted to continue his analysis of those golden lists, and it was about time he found some leads on what to do about Hensen.

That man wasn't on his back just yet, but who the heck was to say it wouldn't happen the very next moment? He'd been subconsciously avoiding the problem to an extent, blaming it on Esther.

But if he procrastinated any more than this, he wouldn't even have the right to regret it later when things came crashing down. Another reason to infuse the old blood, I guess.

Before he could overthink this, he miraculously found that stupid allocation hall. The same woman from yesterday sat behind the counter, three newspapers spread out before her. Each one of them was open to a page featuring a striking couple.

Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, her sky-blue sweater complemented her olive skin and soft features. She leaned over the images, eyes mere inches from the paper, almost as if ready to devour them just with her eyes.

Vern tapped on the counter with his knuckles, pretending to look somewhere else.

"Ahh…"

She sat back up with a straighter back and asked with a bubbly voice, "…Good Morning, sir. How may I help you?"

"A great morning to you as well. I was hoping to get my clearance gem so I can go read in the library."

With a bob of her head, she inquired, "Sure, sir. What is your name?"

"Vern Lockwood."

"Hmm, give me a minute, please."

Vern nodded, and she began rifling through the drawers behind the desk. He idled around and found his eyes drawn to the picture of the couple. People took them for granted nowadays.

They only developed a mass-producible version of the camera a few years ago. Before that, it was an exclusive luxury reserved for the highest echelons of nobility. Well, such are the benefits of Fundamentalism.

The headline above one of those large black and white images read, 'Garmen family heir Marquess Caspian proposed to Lady Marianne from Fairborn Family.' Beneath it, the first line was, 'The wedlock has been blessed by the stars, and the betrothal ceremony's date has been set to be the tenth of Luminar.'

That's fast. Not just the speed with which the nobles resumed their romantic escapades after the world almost ended, but also the brief gap between the proposal and the betrothal. How long is that? Barely nine days.

Vern shook his head. He couldn't care less what others did with their time. There would always be those who found happiness even as the world teetered on the brink. In his view, it wasn't the worst way to live.

The lady across the desk finally retrieved a file, opened it, and then looked between Vern's face and its contents. Once satisfied, she set the file back down and said, "I'll be right back."

Vern nodded again.

She went into the room behind the counter and came back out after a few minutes, a small box in her hands. Setting it down on the desk, she turned it towards him before unlocking its latches.

"Umm, so, according to your past record, someone with far more brains than me has decided to award you a second shade gem," she said, pointing at a red and orange gem sitting in a small compartment in the box.

As expected. Not a third shade gem.

"Other than that, there's also this royal insignia which you can use to make your life in the city easier. It allows you to exit and enter into districts controlled by the crown freely. On top of that, any transit that's publicly funded can be used without a charge. And…umm…ahhm."

Vern waited for her to continue, but she patted her hands around the desk before opening some drawer and pulling out a dossier with a flustered look on her face.

Is she new as well? he chuckled to himself.

"Ahh…right. You can also use it to overrule the police constables and squad leaders. Umm…there are a couple more things, but I seem to have forgotten my notes back at home. But I am pretty sure they were mundane benefits," she finished, looking at him apologetically.

"Ohh, that's okay. But do you remember if there was something about free food?" Vern asked, a little hopeful. Restaurants in the inner district could get expensive real quick, and he wasn't going to be in this castle all the time.

She pondered for a while before shaking her head.

"Bummer," he sighed.

"Sorry about that, but there's also this," she enthusiastically pointed at the last item in the box, "Your current determined salary is about twenty sovereigns a month, and the first cheque is right here."

A salary, huh? He wondered if this was a thing only for him and Lucian. Did all these nobles really need a salary to cover their expenses?

Still, it was actually quite a competitive salary compared to what he used to get as a Fundamentalist. Not that he cared too much about it. He didn't need to pay for Ari's tuition anymore, after all. It was just…him.

But one can never have enough money! he pumped himself up. What if there was some way to buy Observation Records that weren't in the Vigil?

Vern closed the box and dumped it into one of his many pockets before asking, "Anything else I should know?"

She looked at that dossier again and recited, "Please feel free to lodge claims about your expenses incurred during the duties. We can usually reimburse anything from money to bullets to weapons to perceptual artifacts. That last one needs a detailed report and witnesses, though."

Vern narrowed his eyes, feeling a little pinch at having bought all those bullets from Beaumont at the hotel. He hadn't even used half of them.

He nodded for the umpteenth time and thanked the lady, who smiled back. The moment he was out of the hall's boundary, she went right back to her newspaper.

He somehow remembered the path from here to the dining hall, and as he walked, he fit the two-toned gem in the eye badge, which settled in there snugly.

After devouring a healthy amount of breakfast, he grabbed a small piece of cooked fish and wrapped it in a tissue before heading back to the library.

It was time to get work done.

There were a couple people sitting around in the silence, so he didn't dare to be too loud, but he couldn't find Luna in her usual place above the arch of the door. He tried looking around but eventually gave up with a defeated shrug.

With his eyes firmly peeled on every nook and cranny, looking for a feline, he made his way back up the door to the third floor. It was firmly locked this time. So, he took out his badge and slotted it into the opening.

Kacha

As expected, the door clicked open without an effort. He was of the mind that it was a product of Fundamentalism rather than Observation, but there was no way they would let him take it apart to figure out how it worked.

So he squashed his curiosity and ascended the stairs only to halt at the top.

Why are they empty? He wondered, his brows furrowed. It was as if a thief had ransacked everything, leaving the full shelves barebone. There was nothing to be seen.

However, before he could make a fool of himself, he saw some noble kid from yesterday point the badge in the direction of a shelf before grabbing at thin air. The very next moment, a book appeared in his hand, and he nonchalantly walked away.

Vern stood there, dumbfounded. Yeah, this one isn't a product of Fundamentalism.

He followed in the man's steps and quickly realized that pointing the badge toward the shelves illuminated the contents into existence. However, they were few and far between.

Compared to earlier in the night, this was barely a tenth of what had been available. This is how the clearance works, eh? he lampooned.

Weaving through all the shelves, he noted down the names of the books and bundled pages available to him. Except for the one that Noble's kid was reading, there were a total of twenty-three documents available to him, including the one about Axioms he had read earlier.

However, there were only a few proper books. Most of them were just a couple pages bunched together.

He didn't know what he expected. One part of him hoped for the Observation Records to be these tomes of knowledge that could drill an ideology into someone. It was too much to ask for, I guess.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the three sets of papers that clearly seemed like Observation Records and found himself a corner table in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.

Stacking the documents to his right, he opened the notepad. He took a deep breath and dialed in. It has to be done! He pumped himself a couple more times and flipped over to the page with fancy runes.

Ignoring the bold, 'Shut the fuck up,' and 'aaaaaaaaaa,' he wrote down his planned conversation starter, "Hello, Esther."