Rest (1)

"I'm tired..." muttered the sentry on patrol. It was just that simple phrase, yet that weariness was the prevailing emotion among the majority of the Ark's citizens. Eight months had passed since they began living in the Ark. Just as they were starting to feel they could finally stretch their legs and live a little, the endless demands—data center operations, survivor rescues, culling operations—kept hammering at their doors. While physical fatigue accumulated, the mental burden was far heavier.

If someone were to ask why they felt so exhausted while living safely inside the Ark and working only eight hours a day, five days a week, the answer would simply be the difference in pressure. How many of the people trying to build their lives here truly thought about the grand mission of humanity's survival and the preservation of civilization? Even if the Controller and the soldiers endured on a sense of duty, the ordinary citizens—fundamentally civilians—were seriously worrying whether they might not be the "last humans." Living with the constant anxiety that one mistake could lead not just to humanity's destruction but its extinction was clearly no easy burden.

If this fatigue continued, it was obvious the citizens would eventually burn out and collapse under their own weight. It was only natural. The citizens knew full well that the Ark held enormous stockpiles, and if they chose to simply consume those reserves without working, there was little I could do about it. Before the so-called burnout spread throughout the entire Ark, I, as Controller, had the duty to prevent it in advance.

But the problem was how to relieve that "mental stress." The answer was surprisingly simple. When we travel, we feel joy because we are not working and can instead enjoy whatever leisure activities we desire. We are willing to pay for expensive desserts at a resort because we feel that having come all this way, a little extra spending is acceptable. Therefore, I issued a one-week vacation order across the entire Ark, along with the full opening of all recreational facilities.

Originally, a population of over 200,000 was required for proper management and oversight. With only 80,000 residents, we had maintained closure measures due to concerns that public order would deteriorate, except for a very small portion of the facilities.

I ended the broadcast, and the next morning I received positive feedback that labor efficiency had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠improved by approximately thirty percent.

*

And finally, the following Monday arrived. Seven o'clock sharp. Though it was still a bit early to begin the morning, people had all rushed outside, displaying a variety of appearances.

"Kuuuuh! Fuck... I feel alive again!"

Clink, clink. A drunkard carrying an armful of liquor bottles, blowing on an empty bottle like a trumpet and shouting about his happiness.

"Chicken skewers! Lamb skewers! Chicken legs! Hot dogs!"

A food enthusiast who swept up all the dishes he had been craving the moment the stalls opened, heading to a bench with a delighted expression.

"The roller coasters are all gonna die! Just you wait!"

People who had apparently visited ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠amusement parks often in the past rushed toward the recreational facilities without looking back. Though it was merely the suspension of labor, happiness overflowed on everyone's faces. Looking inside the homes of those who had not yet come out, most were still asleep. They seemed unwilling to miss the fortune of being able to sleep until late on a weekday afternoon. Ah... I could understand that a hundred times over.

"Where should we go?"

"Let's go to the beach. I want to see you in a swimsuit."

"What~ How sneaky."

Young couples enjoying a pleasant time together were also visible. It was a good time. If they would just have children, humanity could flourish again as much as it wanted.

Turning the camera toward the recreational facilities, I saw that many people had already gathered there and were dispersing to their desired locations.

"Want to watch a classic movie?"

"No, why watch a movie from a hundred years ago? The CG was terrible too."

"Ah, you little shit. That's the charm. You don't get it."

Those who loved movies naturally gathered at the theaters and entered the screening rooms after choosing their desired films—arms full of drinks, popcorn, hot dogs, buttered squid, and so on. Since no films had been produced inside the Ark yet, the theaters provided movies stored in the mainframe, categorized for selection. That alone was sufficient to satisfy people's interests, as the mainframe naturally contained no uninteresting films.

Splash! Splash!

"Whoa. This is insane. It's a real sandy beach!"

"Hey! Don't just stand on the sand—come in! It's really refreshing!"

Whoosh— Whoosh—

The recreational facility boasted the largest area and heaviest load capacity within Ark No. 17. This was not because there were many things to enjoy, but because recreating the salty and fishy smell of seawater at one hundred percent required an enormous space to build a completely self-sustaining closed ecosystem. Not only the sea, but due to the nature of recreational facilities requiring various auxiliary amenities, the recreational facility was inevitably the largest and most inefficient space within the Ark. But then again, humans originally derive pleasure from inefficiency, do they not?

*

"I'm tired..."

However, exceptions always exist. Security personnel and soldiers did not receive this one-week vacation. Though they too were citizens of the Ark and could receive the 7,000 credits, crime did not decrease just because it was a day off, nor did monsters stop invading.

"Sob... I want to play too..."

And at the very peak of this stood I, the Controller. The soldiers could at least use their leave, but I had to work every single day, 365 days a year, without holidays or vacation. Outside the cameras, women in bikinis were giggling while people rode roller coasters holding mustard-covered sausages. There was simply no motivation.

[Rest is not permitted for the Controller.]

"Kill me..."

How tragic! How unjust! Even when I studied for years to become Controller, I had never felt this miserable. It seemed another reason had emerged for why civilization needed to be rebuilt as quickly as possible. Before the fall, even while obsessively studying the various Ark regulations and facility management ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠laws, I could order as much chicken or pizza as I wanted when hungry...

"This damn Ark only serves tasteless health food three times a day!"

Bang! In the end, overcome with emotion, I slammed my fist on the table. Of course, the desk did not break, and only my hand throbbed as if it might shatter. It happened to be lunchtime, and once again, I was a human ruled by appetite.

Click!

—Your meal, sir.—

Whether or not it understood my feelings, a robot opened the office door and brought today's lunch without a care. It placed the meal on the table and disappeared, as if to say, "What do I care about your pain, you bastard!"

Still, I was hungry, so I examined the lunch menu on the table.

[Today's lunch menu is potato salad, oatmeal with sour cream, and milk with oats.]

Thud!

"...Kill... me..."

When all sorts of delicious things were visible before my eyes, salad? Oatmeal? Milk? There was no way that would satisfy me. But as always, knowing the truth that unappetizing food becomes even worse when cold, I shed tears as I picked up my spoon and began mixing the sour cream into the oatmeal.

And that night, I gave my aide who brought me fried chicken a special bonus.