Exhumation

Don't make too many enemies.

It was a truth of social life that held in every age and every place.

And yet the Imperial Language Association had thrown itself at Soulnet and Elsi Bwener with everything it had — and they had a reason.

"You know I'm running in next year's Senate election, don't you?"

"Yes, Mr. President. I'm aware."

"To win enough support to actually enter the Senate, you need a score. My approval ratings aren't bad right now, but I still haven't left an impression strong enough. I need something… something decisive. One clean, decisive blow."

The Association president was restless.

The Imperial Language Association. On paper, it was a fine post — regarded as the summit of everyone in the Empire who made a living by the pen.

The problem was that it was closer to an honorary title than anything else.

In the landscape of real politics it was nowhere near a core office worth watching, and so he had set his sights on raising his influence high enough to walk into the Senate.

"There has to be… some good material out there somewhere…"

And while he was turning that problem over in his head, a strange sound reached his ears one day.

"I'm going to the bathroom to kyahyahyah? What in the world is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a slang phrase that's popular these days. There's this odd magic called Soulnet making the rounds, and they say the speech patterns came from there."

"Soulnet? Speech patterns? What kind of magic has anything to do with the way people talk?"

"I'll look into it properly."

Once the Association president learned what Soulnet was, his eyes lit up.

Was there a better target to sink his teeth into?

Political influence? None.

Shutting it down entirely would be impossible. No one less than the Emperor himself had tried to touch it and triggered a full-blown disaster.

But for the purpose of scoring a few solid hits and leaving a few bruises, there was no more perfect opponent.

On top of that, while the younger generation and Soulnet users seemed to take the kyahyahyah craze in good humor, the older generations — especially the gray-haired voters who held ballots for the Senate — mostly saw it as a bad thing.

"This is my chance!"

If he hammered them hard enough here, his political standing would spread far and wide and leave a sharp impression on the electorate.

And the office of Language Association president could not have been better suited to swinging that hammer at Soulnet.

"Draft an official notice!"

And so he charged in at full force.

He wasn't calling for a shutdown. Censorship, however, was something he could demand.

And he had the power, the position, the connections, and the justification to make it stick.

And so—

"Automatic censorship of posts containing inappropriate expressions or language that fails to conform to Imperial grammar and usage, plus automatic deletion of such posts?! Are you insane? How long do you think that would take to build? Do you have any idea how much dimensional strain that would add?!"

In the end, the Association president succeeded in wringing a scream from Elsi Bwener's throat.

It was a critical hit.

Given the sheer volume of posts that appeared and vanished on Soulnet every single day, building a system to censor and monitor every last one of them would place an enormous burden on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the entire dimensional framework.

It wasn't impossible, of course.

The problem was time and money — and the way a system built with that time and money would set the community's users on fire.

Communities hate censorship.

Slap a filter on a post someone threw up just to mess around and laugh, and users would leave. That much was obvious.

It was the equivalent of telling me to spend my own money and time committing suicide.

"Lord Tower Master, is there anything we can do about this?"

I went looking for wisdom from the Magic Tower Lord, but this time even he just shook his head from side to side.

"This is an entirely different kind of situation from last time, Elsi. A shutdown triggers backlash. Censorship, though… it isn't the sort of thing that sparks mass resistance. And the other organizations that stood with us against the shutdown probably won't feel any real need to get involved this time."

"Then what… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what am I supposed to do?"

The Tower Lord stared gloomily at the ceiling for a long while, then let out a sigh.

"You accept the notice. If a proposal comes from the Language Association, the Imperial Court won't dismiss it lightly. No — they'll welcome it. The Court has always wanted a leash around our necks."

No formal request for legislation had reached the Imperial Court yet.

But the official notice made the Association's intent chillingly clear: if it came to that, they would push for a law and strangle Soulnet by the throat.

I stared down at the notice for a long time, then clenched my fist.

"I'm going to fight it anyway. I want to do everything I can. I'll release the statement of position we've prepared. I refuse to just sit here and take a beating without lifting a finger."

"Do what you will. But understand this clearly: no matter what position you declare, the Language Association will not change its mind. That much is certain. The Imperial Language Association is a congregation of writers with a deep sense of entitlement."

"I know. But I still want to do everything I can."

"I respect that. The Black Magic Tower will help. This is a problem for the entire Tower as well."

In the editorial column of a major newspaper, a contribution that the Tower and I had prepared long in advance went up.

The gist of it was this:

Yes, kyahyahyah and the other community-born slang phrases do damage proper usage — but it is only natural that a new age produces new words and new expressions. Please do not use the duty of protecting grammar and literary standards as a reason to suppress a new culture.

Of course the hard-headed pen-pushers of the Imperial Language Association were never going to have their hearts moved by my op-ed. I published it anyway, because I felt I had to do something.

And a few days later, the Association's answer came back.

And that answer was extremely aggressive.

It was no coincidence that the Language Association published its contribution in the same newspaper editorial column where the Black Magic Tower and I had published ours.

This was a declaration of war.

And the content of that contribution was extremely sharp-edged as well.

Summarized, the Association's piece said something like this:

Can kyahyahyah and other community-born words really be elevated to the level of "culture"? The things we have always been able to call new expressions and new culture were produced by people who maintained a certain standard of dignity. Community-born words and phrases do not. They have no dignity and no literary value of any kind. They are closer to irresponsible acts of terrorism that destroy the carefully crafted grammar and literary standards of the Empire for a moment's amusement. If such expressions spread and are used carelessly, everyone's linguistic habits will turn vulgar — and that must be stopped. Vulgarity is not culture.

"These senile scribbler bastards! How dare they pass that kind of judgment on one of the Black Magic Tower's major revenue streams?!"

The Tower Lord and the other elders all erupted in fury after reading the cutting editorial — but a solid line of rebuttal was hard to come by.

Honestly speaking… if you asked whether the writing on the community was all that refined or possessed real literary value, I didn't have much of a defense.

No matter how hard I leaned on the argument that this was a newborn culture, that you shouldn't put a leash on culture — the moment the other side answered with "You're vulgar. Look at the quality of your own posts," I had nothing left to say.

And there was a bigger problem still.

"Elsi. Look at this."

"Isn't this a newspaper from another major press?"

"The lords of the major cities have taken the Language Association's side."

The Association's sharp remarks had scratched exactly the itch of countless older people — and among them, people with power. Culture you don't understand always breeds resistance, and the Language Association had stepped out front, carrying every scrap of that public sentiment on its back, and swung at us.

"Public opinion is not in our favor. At this rate, it could actually reach legislation, Elsi."

"But if that happens, Soulnet dies! Who's going to use a community they came to for a light bit of fun if every post they put up gets censored?!"

"I know. I know that. But there's no way out. Once the regional lords have joined in, this is no longer an ordinary incident."

I hung my head.

What choice did I have? This was a fight that was hard to win.

"Understood. I'll look into whether a censorship function can even be added."

The Black Magic Tower took on the atmosphere of a house in mourning.

We prepared a new statement of position. We would accept the Language Association's demands. As soon as the technical preparations were complete, we would immediately add a new censorship function to Soulnet.

And just as we were preparing the announcement post to put up on Soulnet—

Public opinion on Soulnet began to boil.

The editorial had been sharp enough to provoke the resentment of countless users, and this kind of reaction was only natural.

And Soulnet began to counterattack in a thoroughly Soulnet fashion.

The past records of the Language Association's members had been exhumed.

Of course, I had no idea how much of what those posts claimed was actually true — but Soulnet, by its nature, transmitted information at an absurd speed.

And the information that traveled that way became rumor in an instant, spreading across the entire Valrod Empire.

No — across the entire Wirod Dimension.

And once those rumors piled on top of everything else, the atmosphere and public opinion flipped almost overnight.

"They spent their youth causing that kind of trouble, and now they turn around and call young people vulgar?"

"It's always the ones who have everything who are the worst."

"Look at the lords eagerly agreeing with them. These bastards are just hypocrites."

Boiling public opinion and swirling rumors. But the Language Association did not stop in the face of them.

No — they couldn't stop.

What they had thought of as a light swing had suddenly closed around their own throats, and the situation was bewildering — but now that things had gone this far, there was no possible way to back down.

Op-eds and essays defending the Language Association began to appear one after another in the major papers, and that once again fanned the flames of the opposing public opinion.

"Who goes through their youth without making mistakes?"

"And every one of those people in the Language Association risked their lives to remonstrate and build opposition opinion during the era of the Corrupt King Gilmore."

"There's no reason to tear them down just because they made a few mistakes!"

What had begun as a dispute over the censorship of Soulnet exploded almost overnight into a conflict between generations.

The younger generation and Soulnet users cursed the older generation and the Language Association. The older generation, feeling that even their authority and past deeds were being spat on, pushed back against the rumors and the public opinion with even fiercer force.

Under those circumstances, the lords, the Imperial Court, and the Language Association all found it hard to keep pressing for Soulnet's censorship with the same intensity.

At the very least, a mood settled in that they should wait until public opinion cooled before trying again — and so the matter drifted, half-abandoned, as time slipped by.

And then, at some quiet moment in the middle of all that, every last thread of the conflict met a sudden end in a single post that went up on Soulnet.