Chapter 113: A Better World Than Yesterday? 2
Lower Realm.
Poverty, slums, crime, drugs, smuggling, murder, and inter-organizational conflicts.
This place was a massive slum where all of humanity’s negative elements converged, but the most easily recognizable feature of the lower realm was the darkness.
Naturally, in Ark, the true sun was blocked out by massive barriers and walls to prevent all manner of external calamities, monsters, and creatures, replaced instead by an artificial sun.
Though artificial, the light of the sun provided the optimal brightness for human life, enabling people to wake up in the morning, live human-like lives, and sustain the crops and plants grown in Ark’s hydroponic farms.
To exaggerate slightly, the artificial sun was the beginning of life for all humans and contributed greatly to the survival of humanity when they first took refuge in Ark.
However, the lower realm was excluded from this blessing.
The lower realm, situated far below the surface, was intentionally excluded from the construction plans for the artificial sun.
From the outset, it was not a place designed for people to live.
At the lowest depths lay areas designated for dumping pollutants, waste, and heavy metal debris, with warehouses, prisons, and labor correction facilities planned to occupy the layers above.
However, as Ark was built and humanity proved more resilient against calamities than expected, a surplus of survivors remained.
These multitudes of external humans, numbering not just hundreds or thousands but tens of millions, flooded into Ark uninvited.
Skilled technicians and researchers were brought up to higher realm, while the rest were left behind in the lower realm.
Thus, the lower realm of today was formed.
A place where uninvited outsiders had forcibly taken root in Ark, stripped of even the minimum benefits granted to Ark’s citizens in exchange for freedom from external threats.
Given the closed environment of Ark, the central leadership should have executed these illegal immigrants immediately due to shortages of food, resources, and land.
But they could not bring themselves to shoot people fleeing to survive.
In any case, one of the most basic and visible aspects of life for humans in Ark was ‘light.’
The light of the artificial sun.
The beginning of life.
The start and end of a good day.
The monotony and repetition of daily life.
The growth of plants.
The production of food.
Proper food production guaranteed a basic quality of life for humanity.
When the quality of life was ensured, leisure followed, leading to population growth.
And humans—without even the artificial sun’s light—would have their mood utterly destroyed for the day.
It might be bearable for a day or two, but as darkness persisted, people living in a semi-permanent world of shadows would find their personalities and dispositions twisted.
For the record, the population of the lower realm continued to grow.
Despite the abysmal living conditions and happiness levels, there was no shortage of food, thanks to supplies trickling down from the upper realm, including the Caracas Heavy Industry Complex.
As in nations with low economic strength, high birth rates were common, and this place was no exception.
In any case, the upper realm had countless massive food cultivation zones, all heavily dependent on the light of the artificial sun.
The presence of light allowed humans to live and find happiness, which should hold true for the lower realm as well.
“So, I want to build an artificial sun in the lower realm.”
[Ahahaha! I see!]
Alice conveyed her thoughts to Rilstia, who burst into laughter.
[Ahahahahaha!]
The girl’s laughter continued for quite a while, as if she genuinely found it amusing for the first time in ages.
Since Alice, the new Pardak, had arrived, Rilstia had not laughed so freely and for so long.
[Hahaha! Hahaha!]
After laughing heartily for a long time, Rilstia suddenly stopped and looked at Alice with a blank expression.
When with Alice, Rilstia was always conversing, either laughing or showing an energetic, childlike demeanor.
Her abrupt shift to a blank face instantly chilled the atmosphere.
[Alice, may I ask you something?]
“Sure.”
[Have you done drugs?]
“Unfortunately, my body doesn’t respond to drugs.”
[Ah! Then, have you injected nerve stimulants or orthotoxins? Or perhaps electronic narcotics or that rare soul-addictive sorotanitoxin?]
“I don’t even know what those are.”
[Ahaha! Then, one final question!]
“What is it?”
[Are you insane?]
Rilstia asked Alice with a cheerful expression.
From Rilstia’s perspective, Alice’s sudden declaration of creating a sun for the lower realm was bound to be bewildering.
She knew Alice had been grappling with a sense of guilt or reexamining her mindset toward the lower realm as she redefined her identity and the value of human life.
Rilstia herself once vowed to extend a hand of compassion and acceptance to all living beings and humans, to save those she could, to govern without ceasing because she was human.
But such ideals were impossible in Ark.
There were too many humans, too many sacrifices to be made, and too much to protect, leading to inevitable compromises with calamities.
As an administrator tasked with safeguarding humanity and Ark, Rilstia’s broken resolve and twisted beliefs were an unavoidable outcome.
Thus, as she watched Alice struggle with her values and identity, Rilstia provided advice rooted in her own hard-earned experience.
She thought Alice might have reached her conclusion by now.
So, what’s the conclusion?
Out of nowhere, you’re saying to create an artificial sun?
Wasn’t it that you were feeling something akin to guilt over killing people and failing to save them?
From Rilstia’s perspective, Alice’s conclusion was utterly nonsensical.
“No, I’m fine, Riri.”
[Yesterday, you seemed to be experiencing severe inner conflict.]
“I was just angry at a world where people aren’t treated as humans, and the fact that as long as Ark’s order and peace were maintained, even in a situation where I deserved punishment, nothing would happen was unacceptable to me.”
[Isn’t that beneficial for you, Alice? Or do you perhaps want to play the role of a saint?]
“No, you told me to act as I please, right? I’m just following that.”
[What nonsense is this? You say you’re acting as you please, but now you’re creating a sun? I only meant that you could live freely and roughly as long as you didn’t disrupt Ark’s order and peace! After all, those who are destined to die will die, and there are many who can’t rely on our benevolence, so let go of what’s hopeless!]
Rilstia added new notes in her mental assessment of Alice.
Often speaks nonsense.
Tends to act impulsively.
Good at her job and pretty, but probably insane.
“The Overseer’s purpose is to maintain Ark’s peace and order, right? So conversely, as long as it doesn’t disrupt peace and order, you can’t be reprimanded for anything, correct?”
Previously, even Rosa Vintz, a third-class Overseer who clashed with Alice, sold people she disliked at human auctions and once collaborated with Mega Corp to annihilate demons entirely.
However, while it disgraced the Overseer’s reputation, it didn’t threaten Ark’s peace and order.
Thus, the administrators overlooked it, and even when Ernest Rail, who collaborated with Rosa Vintz, was found guilty of treason, her position as Overseer was only revoked posthumously.
This essentially meant that even if direct evidence of a crime emerged, it would often be ignored unless it severely disrupted Ark’s order.
Such rotten and corrupt Overseers couldn’t reach first-class, but because Overseers were essential high-level personnel for maintaining Ark’s peace and order, even if an Overseer wiped out a small village or engaged in major crimes, administrators often turned a blind eye.
“This is ridiculous. You’re basically saying that as long as Ark’s peace and order are maintained, it’s okay to even sell your soul to a demon.”
[That is why we—and this final Ark—have survived to this day. Alice, it seems you still don’t fully understand…]
“I understand perfectly. That’s why I’m going to create a sun here.”
[…Ha. Let’s set aside Alice’s mental issues for now and ask—on what grounds?]
“Would bringing light to the lower realms harm Ark’s peace and order?”
[…No, it wouldn’t.]
“Then there’s no problem, right?”
[What are you even talking abo—]
Rilstia let out a deep sigh.
She had no idea where to even start arguing.
“Alice, do you think creating an artificial sun is an easy task?”
“Well… it’ll probably be difficult, right?”
[Oh, for crying out loud. If it can even be described as ‘difficult,’ consider yourself lucky!]
Rilstia exclaimed in an incredulous tone.
And understandably so.
This wasn’t some joke.
At first, Rilstia thought Alice was just a soft-hearted person dealing with some inner turmoil, but now she was casually talking about something utterly absurd.
A sun isn’t something that just pops into existence with a snap of your fingers.
“To explain why installing an artificial sun in the lower realms is impossible, I would need three days and nights without rest. But I’ll simplify it as much as I can.”
“Alright, go ahead.”
[The resources, including the technology, materials, and capital required for an artificial sun, represent the pinnacle of inefficiency.]
As mentioned before, the lower layers were a world where the artificial sun’s light did not reach.
Artificial suns were typically a culmination of Ark’s central technology, with at least one installed per layer. However, the lower layers, which weren’t even intended for human habitation, were exceptions.
[In the upper layers, where the population and economic activities are vast, it barely achieves efficiency. But creating a sun in the lower realms offers no benefit to Ark’s peace and order, setting aside the logistical hassle and lack of resources.]
Obviously, no administrator, Mega Corp, or noble family in the central leadership would ever propose constructing an artificial sun in the lower layers.
From the central perspective, the fact that the lower layers hadn’t been wiped out by bombing magic was already a blessing, and they should be grateful merely for being kept alive.
[Moreover, the technology itself became obsolete after the initial construction of Ark. Even if the technology survived intact, there’s no reason to pour that much money into it.]
“I heard the central main archive record room where you work has the blueprints.”
[Ha, where did you hear that?]
“From Theresa. Oh, she’s someone you don’t know.”
[…Alice. This isn’t a joke. Even if I handed over the artificial sun blueprints to you, do you think it would be that easy to build?]
Spending money typically requires some return benefit or profit.
For the central Ark administration, there was no reason to bring light to the lower layers.
“The construction site for the artificial sun, energy supply issues to resolve in collaboration with the Energy Corporation, sunlight adjustment rights, department allocation for handling complaints… Off the top of my head, there are at least 182 issues to address! It’s impossible!”
“My, that’s quite a lot. So, does this harm Ark’s peace and order?”
[…Seriously, Alice? Are you genuinely trying to build a sun in the lower layers? What benefit does this bring?]
“There’s no benefit, but there’s no real harm either, right?”
Rilstia was speechless.
She sent Alice to survey the lower layers, and now Alice wanted to create a sun.
While it was good to have hired a competent Pardak, Alice had suddenly started to drift off-course.
It felt like saying, “The Pardak you picked is actually a returning troublemaker.”
Yet at the same time, Rilstia found the idea amusingly ridiculous.
[Then, do as you please.]
“Good. So, you’re giving me permission?”
[Think of it as acquiescence, not permission. There will be no cooperation for such a meaningless endeavor.]
It couldn’t be helped.
The technology and blueprints for constructing an artificial sun were archived in the main administrative archives of Ark Central.
Well, if Alice wanted access, it could be arranged.
For high-ranking Overseers of 3rd Class or above, viewing the basic design blueprints for the artificial sun was already permitted.
‘The issue is that it would take Alice quite a while to get from the lower realm to the central records archive.
Even if the technology and blueprints exist, there’s no way to secure the resources and power necessary for implementation.
Even the artificial sun in the Kowloon Residential Zone consumes immense power in real time…’
However, at that moment, something crossed Rilstia’s mind.
What if it wasn’t just an empty boast?
Alice might seem like a strange little girl with a few screws loose, but she wasn’t incompetent.
She’d already proven her capability through past work.
That girl might appear naïve, but she clearly had experience in crisis management and task execution.
Though she seemed impulsive, acting on whims, she always delivered results.
Rilstia knew that Alice possessed a peculiar power and magic, alien to Ark’s conventional understanding.
If—just if—Alice could bring light to the lower realm, a place no one had dared to touch before?
Then, all the residents who had lived in darkness could regain the light.
Maybe—just maybe—the lower realm could become a livable place.
“Sigh… Alice, why does my Pardak make my life more difficult?”
Well, fine.
In the end, I’m the one who gave her permission.
Rilstia sighed but decided to go along with this outrageous insanity.
“Accessing the central archive’s main records. Download all data on the foundational and advanced designs for multipurpose artificial suns.”
-Welcome, Administrator Rilstia. Downloading the requested data.
The administrative auxiliary AI began downloading the artificial sun’s foundational blueprints and designs per Rilstia’s command.
-Sending the data to 3rd Class Overseer Alice.
Rilstia sent the completed download to Alice’s smartwatch.
Alright, with this much help, she better accomplish something.
“Well, just in case, I should buy shares in the Energy Management Corporation and the maintenance-focused Mega Corp. If an artificial sun is truly built in the lower realm, the food plant-focused Mega Corp’s stocks will plummet…”
But constructing an artificial sun would take at least six months, even if Ark Central fully committed to the project.
There was plenty of time to observe for now.
After all, an administrator had time on their side.
Three days later.
Just after Rilstia made a small personal investment in stocks, urgent news echoed through the central administrative office.
A new light had risen in the lower realm.
What the hell?
How did she manage it?