The Inquisitor rested his chin on his hand, pondering. —Hmm. Why did I become a psycho? Uhmmm, that's a tough question. The Inquisitor groaned, his expression serious, as if he was confronting a challenging math problem. Being able to remain rational at any given moment was both his strength and flaw. Still, that wasn't the look his children wanted from their father. Saimeslam interrupted the Inquisitor’s train of thought. —Why are you so fixated on success? Why do you dedicate yourself to distinguishing between what’s useful and what's not? Well, it's fine to differentiate, but why do you rush to categorize everything? With all the Shellmounts and the other species watching them, Saimeslam questioned their god, who used to have unwavering faith from his people while ruling the ancient empire that had spread across the entire continent. —Humans aren’t omnipotent. There are many things you do not know. It’s impossible to recognize the hidden potential of your children instantly. That's why you should be humble and modest and give your children time to develop their abilities. This is how you should think, laimu. Kurka, why are you so intent on rapidly categorizing everything into useful and useless? Father, why do you live this way? Is there no way for you to lead a different life? Is there? The last rays of sunset disappeared behind the damp palm leaves. Night fell in the jungle. The Sylvans flitted about, placing torches everywhere. Hundreds of thousands of Shellmounts, previously hidden in the forest’s shadows, were now revealed by dim flames. They could crawl along the ground and scale walls to go anywhere, yet they lived carrying their homes on their backs. Destined for both freedom and confinement, the Shellmounts held their breath as they waited for the Inquisitor’s reply. It wasn’t that they were submitting to Saimeslam’s power or the Inquisitor's authority. Saimelsam asked her questions on behalf of all Shellmounts. She gathered her people’s screams, resentment, and blame, and offered them in the form of questions for their father. In a sense, Saimelsam had become the representative of their species, or more like their eldest sister. As she pointed out each of their father’s mistakes, the other Shellmounts sat quietly around her, like younger siblings. The scale of this gathering was immense, but this couldn’t be called anything but a family meeting. The Inquisitor slowly descended on the ground and sat down across from Saimelsam. Now, what lay between the father and children wasn’t just the disparity in heights. It was something deeper. In the background, someone gently swayed a torch. —Saimelsam, I can apologize to you again and again. Because I wasn’t thorough enough, the empire fell. All the privileges you once enjoyed vanished. Since then, you guys have been living in baronies instead of an empire. You mine salt and supply it to the Terras. This is all due to my failure. I have no excuse, so I apologize— —No, it’s not like that. Saimelsam lifted her tentacle and scratched her face. It looked as if she was massaging the area between her eyes. —The first empire, the privileges we lost, the Shellmounts now being reduced to mere workers... I’m not planning to blame you for what happened in the past. You did a very good job, actually. —Think about it. Only two species in this world have become the ruling species of the continent: us, the Shellmounts, and the Terras. Father, that’s an incredible achievement. Though the empire collapsed, lime, we respect your abilities. What we are asking has nothing to do with your success or your failure. Saimelsam stepped closer. —Look at us. Look at us, Kukra. She wrapped her only remaining tentacle, scarred from numerous battles, around the Inquisitor's hand, prompting him to look down. Saimelsam had exactly the same smile on her face as the Inquisitor. That smile seemed to leave the Inquisitor paralyzed. —We throw useless kin into the bluestone cave. We laugh and say, “Lime, we have no other choice.” The laughter may come from our nasty viciousness, but I don’t think that’s the case. “Hmm! What a shame. This one will be useless!” “Shall we just toss them out?” —We may look slightly different; we have a few more arms than you... or less. Saimelsam playfully swayed her remaining tentacle. —Nonetheless, we have inherited nearly all of your legacy. Everything you meant to leave behind, and everything you didn’t. Your laughter, habits, and the weight you've chosen to carry in this world... that’s everything. So, Father, you don't need to be grateful for the empire we built or apologize for its decline. That doesn't matter right now. I—we want to understand why you became such a psycho. Only then will we be able to grasp why we have also become psychos. The Inquisitor was silent. All the Shellmounts pointed their tentacles at him. —Tell us, Father. We want to know why. The creatures fell silent. To disperse this thick silence, the Inquisitor spoke. [The fortieth floor quest is in progress.] —Why are you so obsessed with making money? The Sylvans surrounded the Countess. The jungle was noisy, as if a hearing was taking place. Unlike their beautiful appearance, the Sylvans scrunched their faces and verbally attacked their goddess in waves. —Whatever we do, our instincts tell us to make money. That we should have money even if we don't do anything. Money, money, money. That’s all we know. The world is full of money, so much money. —I take it you don’t like that? The Countess leisurely held a hookah, inhaling its smoke. She had purchased this particular hookah, crafted by the Sylvans, at a premium price. The Sylvans’ mother had bought products made by her children, but discussions didn’t seem to go smoothly. —Doesn’t it feel great to earn money? Huh? —Well, it feels nice to handle it, but can’t you teach us something else besides that? —Like what? Music? Singing? Art? Ways to flaunt yourself by claiming “I feel like dying because the world is just so beautiful?” Or “I’m so beautiful that the world is better off if I’m gone?” How to deceive other people? I can’t teach you anything apart from how to earn money. Behind the swirling hookah smoke, the Countess smiled. —I was born into a dirt-poor family. We had nothing. Actually, we didn’t even have a house. Have you ever heard of a city made purely of trash? Well, probably not. The world I was born into was much larger than your continent. A mountain range could be created from all the trash that the people discarded. —But among the rubbish, some things can sometimes be recycled, so people managed to make profits. Consequently, there were merchants searching through trash discarded post-meals, left behind after using the toilet, abandoned after they were no longer useful, or thrown out after intercourse... We sifted through waste to find profitable items. —Uh, was that really a lucrative business? The profitability sounds really low. The Sylvans were gifted businesspeople, so making quick calculations in their heads was easy for them. The Countess beamed, seemingly pleased. —Haha. It doesn’t sound profitable at all, does it? —Exactly. My daily wage was far less than a cookie. Even then, if adults took it away from me, I was left with nothing, so what could I do? I had to wake up when adults were asleep and secretly sift through piles of trash. If I got caught, I was dead meat. I had to interrupt my sleep three or four times and act like everything was okay so I could gather as much valuable trash as possible. Listen closely, my children. Well, you’re not actually my children, but I see you as my offspring. The Countess slowly lowered her hookah and leaned toward the thousands of Sylvans gazing at her. Her voice was dark as she used aura transmission. “Don't whine at me for not teaching you anything else. The moment you complain about that, you’re proving that you are nothing but brats.Making money is hard, so luck heavily influences earning money.” The Countess’ eyes gleamed as if they were will-o'-the-wisps.The Sylvans listened intently. “Imagine a penniless child living in a trash city, a child like me. They suddenly wish to learn to play the piano. That’s a useless fantasy, isn't it? A good dream is one that remains a dream. For that child to truly learn how to play the piano, they must be fortunate enough to find a discarded piano among the rubbish, have someone nearby who knows how to tune it, gather sheet music from the trash and, last but not least, possess musical talent. For those who have no money, the desire to learn or achieve something is a gamble they keep making throughout their life. This gamble involves everything: your time, luck, and even your life. And you still might not succeed. What about you?” The Countess surveyed the Sylvans around her. When their eyes met hers, several Sylvans shivered. Although some had been alive for longer than her, the pressure given off by the Tower’s Rank 5 Hunter overwhelmed them. It was sometimes easy to forget this because she often playfully patted foxtails in her cat form, but the Countess had risen after growing up in a forgotten trash city. Now, she was a wealthy merchant controlling the Tower's money. She was a force to be reckoned with. Few could withstand the venom hidden in the Countess, whether they were from this world, our Tower, or the outside world. “Do you wish to learn music? Then pay for it. Get a teacher and pay them. Buy yourself an instrument. Yes, choosing an instrument will require some thought. It’s quite costly. Balance your passion for music with your family’s financial situation. Take your time... yes, take your time.” The Countess chuckled. Her laughter was laced with old malice. “Money gives you the opportunity to contemplate.” The Sylvans couldn’t say anything. “Money opens many doors. Want to learn music? Try it out a bit, and if you lose interest, move on. It’s gonna cost you some money, but you won’t go broke. Many people think money is a goal or an end, but that’s not exactly the case. It’s more like a starting point. As your mother, I’ve merely provided you with a starting point.” The Countess pulled a fan from her pocket. “So, you want to know why I only taught you how to make money? That’s good. Very good. Think about it. Even if you waste time pondering, you aren’t going to starve because you don’t live off the minimum wage, right? Feel free to waste time. Worrying, pondering, reflecting—these are very pleasant distractions. Every time you worry or ponder, you secretly acknowledge your abundance and realize you’re living a life of luxury. Don’t you see? These small luxuries elevate you, or, at least, create the illusion that you’re great.” The Countess smiled and opened her fan to cover the lower half of her face. Her sharp, cat-like eyes surveyed the Sylvans. “Think when you wish to think, dwell where you choose, and act as you please. This is what I call freedom. Money grants you this freedom. Only money. I’ll ask again, my children, or at least those I consider like my children: have you ever experienced misfortune just because you were born as my children? Or did you ever consider yourself unfortunate? If it’s the latter, what did you feel when you thought about how unfortunate you were to be born as my child? Were you sad? Or perhaps...” “Did you feel a bit prouder, a tad better, just for having those thoughts? As I mentioned, thoughts, worries, and reflections are delightful luxuries." Her smile resembled a dark crescent moon. She chuckled. “Haha, in my eyes, you look like you’re living quite enjoyable lives. Am I wrong?" [The forty-first floor quest is in progress.] The Fingills had a question for the paladin. —Why did you choose us? We live in water. But you, Great Dolphin, you seem to live on land. We live in very different worlds. The Fingils resembled merfolk, with markings reminiscent of waves adorning their entire bodies. They created the illusion of beautiful waves crashing on the shore when they swam together. Water was where they dwelled. Now, they were gathered in a river. —Kekerukker chose the Terras. Lime selected the Shellmounts. Though they may appear quite different, they have more things in common as they all live on land. So, why did you choose us? Why? The Paladin was perched on a massive rock overlooking the river and was surrounded by thousands of Fingills. It was possibly tens of thousands, including the children splashing in the water below. She gazed down at the river, where the blue moonlight was softly reflected on the water’s surface. If she looked closer, she could see the Fingills’ tails. As they rested their arms on the rocks, they played in the water, sending splashes giving off the glow of moonlight. —I didn't want you to live on land. —When you live on land, you eventually come to hate it. Little by little, you come to resent everything that treads on land. Even those who breathe. With a click, the Paladin slowly removed her metal helmet, setting her blond hair free. —I didn't want to raise you that way. I wanted you to breathe in only the refreshing scent of the sea rather than experience the world’s scorn. When you swim, you should be free from the people’s oppressive pull of gravity. The gentle waves and forgiving waters should cradle you. The Paladin gazed at the moon’s reflection in the water. The golden strands of her hair hid part of her face, making her voice sound as though it came from the moonlit water itself. —The air is too light, and the ground is too rigid. We’re all alive, but walking and standing are effortlessly easy. For people like me, it’s hard to acknowledge our own existence. I got too used to it, but you are different.” A Fingill waved their tail, creating ripples in the river that seamlessly merged together. Thousands of Fingills halted their movements, silently gazing at their mother. —The water's surface is light, and the underwater feels heavy. I imagine the bottom of the ocean is quite overwhelming. You will feel the world whenever you swim. This doesn’t happen while you walk. When you navigate your way in the world, you become aware of the essence of your being and your outlines. As you skillfully dive into the water and break through the waves crashing around you, the brilliant sunlight shines on the sea. I thought you would be happy if you witnessed that. The Fingills listened as if they were in a trance. —You should relish in your swimming abilities, admire the shifting colors of the ocean, and savor the various flavors of the water that enters your gills. And when the sea and waves become tiring, you can come to the surface to see the land. Look at the ground, the green, brown, gray, and red maple leaves scattered upon it, look at the vast golden wheat fields. So many beautiful sights will be waiting for you on land. That is what I wanted you to see. I wanted you to admire and cherish the earth and all that treads upon it. The soothing sound of flowing water echoed throughout the jungle. The dark river blended seamlessly with the forest's chirping birds. Small sounds cascaded from all corners of the world. The Paladin raised her head. —So, I chose you, Fingills, also known as merfolk. Was I too greedy? The queen of the Fingills splashed around the water with her tail. —Yes, you were. However, compared to other parents and gods of the other species, your greed is beautiful. The merfolk stretched out her webbed fingers and stroked her mother's blonde hair, which had suffocated while confined in that metal helmet. The Paladin took a deep breath. The merfolk’s touch was damp. As the Paladin approached the water, her breath had the same moisture as the river. The breath that a human inhaled wasn’t very different from that of a merfolk. Cool water droplets dripped onto the Paladin’s hair, which was the same color as the moon. —I am very happy that you are our mother. [The forty-second floor quest is in progress.]