The Cage of Utopia

I was dumbfounded by what the Old Librarian had said, but I couldn't be rude to someone who had helped me, so I swallowed my true feelings.

"Well, you're still young, so I imagine it feels burdensome. Just think of it as advice from a senior who walked the path of magic before you."

"Understood. The next thing I'm curious about is..."

"You don't have anything else you want to ask?"

At the Old Librarian's question, I brought up one thing I had been wondering about.

"Seeing that the Shop sells credits, it looks like the structure is set up so climbers can make money easily, but prices here are abnormally high."

"Ah, yes, they certainly are abnormal. The Tower's economic system follows capitalism on the micro level, but on the macro level, it's closer to communism."

Communism? A distribution economy? No, distribution was part of it, sure, but what he really meant was a heavily controlled economy.

"The problem with communism," he said, "is that it never accounted for human greed. The desire to become wealthier than others, and the vile greed of those in power who would devour their own people just to enjoy luxury and glory. The Tower solved both of those problems, and the result is the current system."

"Solved them? Is that even possible?"

"First, those in power. In the Tower, no such people exist. And if there are no rulers, then the foul greed of rulers cannot exist either."

"Isn't the Tower basically a nation? Then how can it not have rulers?"

At my question, the Old Librarian smiled faintly.

"If you climb to the upper floors and you're lucky, you'll learn more about it. But since this information isn't under restriction, I'll answer you. The Tower is like a nation, but it isn't one."

Something clicked when he said that.

"And as for the desire to become rich, that begins with knowledge. To use an example from your world... it's like Wonhyo's skull water."

"You mean if people don't know a better life exists, then they won't develop any desire for wealth."

That definitely matched what I'd seen walking around the city. Some public facilities were as good as anything in a modern city, but the overall atmosphere still felt stuck in the Renaissance. As for news from outside the city, letters and newspapers were about the only way to get it, and the conditions in other cities probably weren't all that different from this one.

"So even if climbers talk about the worlds they came from, it wouldn't mean much. Information you haven't experienced firsthand is bound to be distorted by the one receiving it."

The restaurant owner had been amazed by airplanes too, but the airplane in his head definitely wasn't the same thing as the airplane I knew.

So that was why every electronic device I had, including my smartphone, stopped working the moment I entered the Tower's 10th Floor. The Tower intended it that way. It didn't want anyone making the outside world feel real through videos or photographs.

"The Tower's First Settlers don't have a great gap between rich and poor," the Old Librarian said, "and there is a strong welfare structure supporting their lives in ways they don't even consciously notice."

"That sounds like a utopia."

"But utopia and dystopia are two sides of the same coin. A little information is all it takes to turn one into the other. Water in a skull may be life-saving water that preserves your life, but the skull that holds it is still something horrifying to behold."

"So once you know the truth, the Tower is basically one giant cage."

The First Settlers had no awareness at all that they were being oppressed, but in a sense, that meant they were under the strongest oppression of all.

"It's basically The Truman Show—or no, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠maybe Animal Farm."

Then again, maybe 1984 was the better comparison.

At my assessment, the Old Librarian gave a bitter smile.

"A perfectly equal animal farm, or a savage wilderness full of vast wealth gaps and discrimination—which is better, even I couldn't say. To be honest, it's closer to say I don't care. Why? Because it isn't my business."

It isn't my business.

That might be one of the most fundamental parts of human nature. Most people don't care about misery that happens outside the range of their awareness, do they?

And even if that was true, was it really right for me to teach those peaceful people about a suffering they couldn't even perceive, just so they could become unhappy?

If my irresponsible words stirred up turmoil in their lives, was there even any chance their lives would actually improve because of it?

Wouldn't I just be dismantling their happiness and putting their misery on display without offering any way to solve it?

Come to think of it, there had been statistics in the past showing that some poor countries ranked among the happiest in the world.

But that had only been possible because they were so poor that communication networks like the internet had never truly penetrated them. They didn't know that better lives existed beyond their own.

Once communication technology got cheaper and the internet spread into those poorer countries, their people came into contact with the outside world—and their happiness rankings plummeted.

"Well, don't pity their lives too much," the Old Librarian said. "After all, entering the Tower's fence was their choice—or more precisely, the choice of their ancestors."

"So you're saying a lion born in a zoo wouldn't necessarily be happier if you sent it back into the wild. But... is it really okay for you to tell me all this?"

I had a strong feeling that his answer contained the answers to several of the questions I'd asked before.

At my question, he shrugged as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

"I merely answered because you asked questions I was permitted to answer."

"Understood. But then why are the credits sold in the Tower Shop so incredibly cheap compared to everything else you've explained?"

Even if prices were controlled by the Tower, that didn't mean climbers had to be allowed to become wealthy. Of course, considering I was one of the people benefiting from it, maybe I wasn't exactly in a position to complain.

"The Tower wants climbers to climb," he said. "If they become too crushed by daily life to keep going upward, then there would be no point in inviting them here in the first place."

"But if it gives things away this generously, wouldn't people just settle down instead?"

"Anyone who'd settle for something as little as this would've settled down sooner or later anyway."

Fair point.

"Why does the Tower want climbers to keep climbing?"

"Because that is the Tower's purpose for existing."

The Old Librarian urged me toward another question, as though he couldn't explain that any further.

I'd gotten rough hints for most of the questions that had built up so far. After thinking for a moment about what else I could ask, I remembered something I'd originally wanted to ask the librarian.

"It seems abilities all have rarity grades. Are they determined simply by how rare they are? Looking through the shelves, I only saw volume one for Rarity 1 abilities. There was nothing after that."

At my question, the Old Librarian answered casually.

"For volume two and beyond, you'll have to reach the 20th Floor and visit that library. The knowledge permitted on the 10th Floor is limited, after all."

"I see."

When I nodded in understanding, the Old Librarian smiled and continued.

"And as for rarity—no, it isn't decided solely by how uncommon an ability is. It also includes the speed at which the ability grows, along with the difficulty of learning and mastering it."

At his fingertips, a small clump of light formed.

"A mass of energy condensed from mana?"

I instinctively knew that this little sphere of light had been created from the same force I'd just felt inside my own body.

The Old Librarian nodded, pleased.

"Exactly. Try it yourself."

I raised a finger and tried to imitate the flow of mana running through his hand.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had only sensed something called mana for the first time a moment ago, so it felt awkward and difficult.

"Ah... got it."

Still, after struggling for a few minutes, I succeeded in creating a small sphere just like his.

"Check your status window."

At the Old Librarian's words, I pulled up my abilities.

"Huh?!"

Magic Bullet Lv 1 had appeared next to my ability.

"It's Magic Bullet, the most basic of basic spells," he said. "The status window merely tells you your current state. Abilities can be learned and mastered without an Ability Stone. Magic Bullet is a simple spell that anyone can learn, even if they aren't a mage, so long as their talent for magic isn't completely disastrous."

The Old Librarian fired a Magic Bullet at an empty wall, and I tried to copy him.

His Magic Bullet struck the wall and vanished, but mine only flew about three feet before dissipating in midair.

"That, in the end, is about the level of a Rarity 1 ability."

The Old Librarian traced a line in the air, forming a graph.

"Let's call the vertical axis strength—or level."

He added that level was, roughly speaking, a measure of how high a floor an ability could remain effective on.

"And the horizontal axis is the amount of time it takes to train the ability. A Rarity 1 ability usually looks like this."

The graph shot up steeply at the start like a logarithmic curve, then gradually flattened out until the growth rate became nearly horizontal.

"It's easy to learn and grow early ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on, but the limit becomes very clear later. By contrast, Rarity 5 and Rarity 9 abilities follow curves like these."

The Rarity 5 ability drew a straight diagonal line like a linear function, while the Rarity 9 curve started slow and became steeper and steeper, like the kind of exponential growth people always talked about.

"Are there really low-rarity abilities among the ones the Tower gives out?"

At my question, the Old Librarian snorted softly.

"Of course there are. In fact, there are a great many. Most people probably received Rarity 1 abilities. Nine out of ten, I'd say."

"Then for people who get low-rarity abilities, their limits are obvious from the start?"

The Old Librarian shook his head.

"No. The Tower ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is fair. When you reached the 10th Floor, didn't the Tower either grant you a new ability or strengthen one you already had? If it was a summoning-type ability, then you likely gained one additional summon slot. If it was a martial arts-type ability, you were probably granted a new martial art to complement your existing one, something like a cultivation method or footwork technique."

He was right. My Multidimensional Avatar had gained another slot too.

"Then wouldn't the opposite be true as well? Wouldn't the people who receive high-rarity abilities be at a disadvantage? If their early growth is this bad, it seems like most of them would get weeded out before reaching any meaningful point."

"That's why the Tower has things called Ability Stones. And beyond that, there are places inside the Tower where one can learn magic or martial arts. Just as you learned Magic Bullet a moment ago, those places let you learn lower-rarity abilities."

With that, the Old Librarian told me about the Magic Tower Branch in this city.

That hadn't been in the guidebook. So this was hidden information?

"In the beginning, you climb the Tower with low-rarity abilities that are easy to use. Later, you climb with high-rarity abilities. Here—take this."

The Old Librarian tossed me a red Mana Stone.

"It's an Ability Stone. You can eat it if you like, but simply thinking of it as absorbing it will do."

"Is it really okay to just give me something like this?"

"Think of it as a reward for finding me. You may not realize it, but finding me is worth at least that much."

"Then I'll accept it gratefully."

As the Old Librarian, generous to a fault, had said, I absorbed the Ability Stone.

Then, next to Magic Bullet Lv 1, another line appeared: Spirit Magic Lv 1.

When I selected Spirit Magic, it had a single slot, just like Multidimensional Avatar.

When I summoned a fire spirit, a tiny spirit no bigger than a finger joint appeared, and the slot filled in.

"Most summoning-type abilities are Rarity 5 or higher, but Spirit Magic is a Rarity 7 ability. It's the sort of ability that depends heavily on talent, but if you think of the distant future, it's an extremely good one. Raise your spirit diligently."

"Thank you."

The Old Librarian told me that abilities obtained through Ability Stones were only supplementary, so even if they grew, the Tower wouldn't provide any extra support for them.

"Well then, it seems you have no more questions, so let's part here."

The Old Librarian slowly wrapped space around his body as though he were physically pulling it over himself.

I asked one last question before he vanished.

"What is your name?"

At that final question, the Old Librarian smiled.

"Come to the higher floors and seek me out. I'll tell you my name then."

With those words, the Old Librarian disappeared completely.

(To be continued)