Chapter 511 441 Philosophers' Zombies_1
Chapter 511 441 Philosophers' Zombies_1
Twenty minutes later, inside a school in Madura city, Huai Shi finally met the philosopher.
It was obvious that this was a private aristocratic high school, distinct from the ones Huai Shi had come across on his journey, both in terms of security and facilities. It was cleaner, safer, and also more expensive.
Like a noble's estate, with intricately designed buildings and courtyards, groups of teenage boys and girls walked along the paths, excitedly or calmly discussing something. Children ran excitedly on a distant lawn, chasing each other. The sweet scent of youth was in the air.
Walking among them, Huai Shi and Sayul, who followed behind him, seemed like two outcasts.
Surveying the surroundings in astonishment, Sayul shrank behind Huai Shi, his head hanging as if feeling ashamed compared to the older children.
Huai Shi, however, walked calmly through the campus, looking around with composure, gazing at the curious faces of the young people, even though they seemed to be about his own age.
"How nice," he muttered softly, staring at the rolling green and the white buildings while listening to the sound of a piano from a music room. Someone was stumbling through a piece but persevering with determination, progressing in fits and starts...
Until Sayul could no longer bear the stares of those around him, tugging on Huai Shi's sleeve and then gesturing ahead.
Huai Shi saw the middle-aged man holding a paper bag.
The man was slightly aged and thin, wearing glasses, a white short-sleeved shirt, and suit pants. His finger joints were rough, calloused from years of writing, and he clutched a bulging paper bag, making him very conspicuous. This wasn't because of his clothes, but because of his lineage.
Scant black hair was meticulously combed back, his pupils dark, his skin pale, and Rosary Beads representing the Holy Spirit were wound around his wrist...
Huai Shi hadn't expected the philosopher to be a Roman.
He stood next to a bench, waving to Huai Shi. Several thick textbooks lay on the chair beside him. The covers were worn from use, but they weren't dog-eared, which showed they were well cared for.
"I'm sorry that I can only entertain you here, Mr. Huai Shi."
After Huai Shi and his companion took their seats, the philosopher was the first to speak. He examined the two guests before him and remarked with a tone of wonder, "I must say, you both look younger than I imagined, especially this gentleman... Mr. Sayul."
Sayul was momentarily stunned.
The philosopher smiled kindly at him and, without saying anything further, turned to a puzzled Huai Shi. "I am aware of the purpose of your visit, but do you mind if I finish this first?"
In his paper bag, he had a sandwich from which two bites had already been taken. It was seemingly homemade, packed with an amount of hot sauce, mustard, and raw beef that even Huai Shi found intimidating.
After receiving Huai Shi's permission, he continued eating his sandwich.
He ate methodically, not hurried or flustered, but steadily and rhythmically. He thoroughly chewed each bite before swallowing. Every few bites, he would lift his thermos and take a sip of tea.
Five minutes later, he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, screwed the lid back on the thermos, and looked up at Huai Shi.
"Thank you for waiting."
"I wouldn't mind waiting even longer," Huai Shi replied with a shrug.
"I appreciate such patience—it's filled with tolerance and reverence for knowledge and understanding, Mr. Huai Shi. Such a trait has become rare," the philosopher commented, a blend of pleasure and regret in his voice.
"There is one thing that needs clarification beforehand—my Soul Ability makes people find my words very reasonable, even if I'm speaking nonsense that sounds convincing."
After a moment of thoughtful silence, he explained somewhat abruptly, "Unfortunately, the effect is passive, and I cannot turn it off myself. However, this is something you can understand with a little thought," he added, then gave an example: "For instance—today's sun is black."
Pure nonsense.
Huai Shi frowned. The sun isn't black today, wait a second...
He paused, instinctively raised his head to look at the dazzling sun overhead, and after several seconds, he finally realized the implication and involuntarily took a sharp breath. A chill ran down his spine.
Such a Soul Ability is terribly frightening. If the philosopher hadn't explained beforehand, even Sublimators would have little defense against it.
"I apologize for the absurdity," the philosopher sighed, somewhat pained. "This ability is quite advantageous in education, of course, provided the theories I tell my students are correct. But there's just too much in this world that can't be confirmed... Thanks to this troublesome Soul Ability, although my specialties were higher mathematics and theoretical physics, now, to avoid misleading students, I can only teach grammar in high school... After all, even if I make a slip of the tongue, at most they'll just lose a couple of points on a test."
After a brief pause, he looked at Huai Shi seriously. "I'm telling you this partly out of honesty and partly to avoid misunderstanding—I don't consider what I say to be absolutely correct. Hence, I hope you'll always remain skeptical of my words."
In silent contemplation, Huai Shi had a vague realization.
Regardless, the philosopher harbored no ill will towards me. On the contrary, he had been candid from the start. This way, when I ponder over matters later, I can discard the influence of the philosopher's Soul Ability to the greatest extent possible.
"Ah, you've begun to think." The philosopher observed, revealing a relieved smile. "Good, thinking is the first step to survival, Mr. Huai Shi. You have already entered the state. I believe our conversation will be very enjoyable from here on out."
"Do you need me to ask questions?" Huai Shi inquired.
"No, I am already clear about your purpose, and I have prepared my answers."
After pondering for a moment, the philosopher suddenly said, "However, before that, may I pose a few questions? I apologize, this is purely out of professional habit. I always slip into a teacher's state—"
Huai Shi shrugged indifferently. "Isn't that why I came here, to seek answers to my doubts?"
"Then let's treat it as a temporary lesson."
The philosopher happily patted his knees twice, straightened his demeanor, and suddenly asked, "What do you think is the essential difference between Sublimators and ordinary people?"
"Are you referring to the Soul, Stigma, or Talent?"
"No, something deeper than these superficial things, something that goes deeper into the essence."
The philosopher shook his head. "I am not referring to the quantity of Source Substance or the prominence of Ability, nor the brave actions of Heroes and the loathsome conduct of criminals. It's not about personality differences, but rather something... something closer to the primal force. That might be too obscure. Let's use an example."
His fingers subconsciously tapping a pen, he pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Do you know what a 'Philosophical Zombie' is?"
"Zombies, I have had some encounters and understanding of them," Huai Shi replied. In fact, he had dispatched quite a few, whether Ghouls, Werewolf infectees, or others. Such creatures always emerged in various places, serving as cheap cannon fodder.
"No, no, no, it's actually a very interesting hypothetical scenario."
The philosopher shook his head. "It's not about an eternally hungry and bloodthirsty corpse, waiting to bite you round the clock, and then transmit a fatal virus to you. Instead, imagine there's a strange being, mixed within the crowd... And he looks and behaves and has the same physiological structure as an ordinary person."
He said, "If you stab him with a knife, he will scream in pain. If the air conditioning is too high, he will tell you it's cold. He works, he talks, he sings, he takes photos to post on blogs, gets flushed when he sees a beautiful girl, and when hungry, goes out to eat just like us—he might even cook at home, but that doesn't matter. In short, this being appears exactly like a human."
He paused for a moment, then said calmly:
"Except that he has no self-awareness."
"Hmm?"
Huai Shi subconsciously frowned, sensing something amiss.
"Or more precisely—his mind never contains anything of his own."
At this point, he looked up, his disconcertingly sharp gaze piercing Huai Shi. "It just does not think. It simply, does not think. Living like a zombie, Deadliving, one of the living dead, a Puppet, a machine—call it what you will... but how do you verify whether it possesses self-awareness?"
Huai Shi did not know how to answer.
Even with thought, I can't reach a conclusion. It's just an absurd supposition, after all. It's like how some extreme psychologists speculated that "free will" was nothing more than a lie concocted by the brain. Until the Soul made its appearance, this theory actually had quite a following.
"You should know, Mr. Philosopher," Huai Shi said. "Anything unfalsifiable lies beyond the realm of rational discourse—put another way, this hypothesis is doomed from the start to be without an outcome."
"I know."
The philosopher nodded. "I am just, filled with curiosity... How many people would think, Mr. Huai Shi, have you considered it? How many would choose to become a living corpse?"
When he looked back, his gaze was terrifyingly calm, and he whispered a question, "What would you feel if I told you that such living corpses might truly exist in this world, even in large numbers?"
Huai Shi was stunned. He shivered under that gaze.
"You've seen such people, haven't you?"
The philosopher leaned on the bench, indifferently saying, "When hearing those profound speeches, he would consider them profound truths. Flip through a couple of fabricated little stories in celebrity biographies, and he would seem to grasp the principles of this world. If he sees something being snatched away by others, he too would think it a prized possession. Upon encountering a stirring piece of writing, he finds his direction in life. He repeats what others say, and what others deem right, he too takes as Truth. If someone commits a crime, he also feels righteous indignation with the crowd. Perhaps he'll even call out, feel injustice, forever standing with the majority, hidden in the throng, utterly ordinary... Despite having reason, he doesn't think; able to feel love, yet does not spread it; learns principles but does not apply them; aware of where wisdom lies, yet boasts in his ignorance; yearns for justice, yet obsessively pushes anything different toward the side of evil—"
"I once felt terrified by this, Mr. Huai Shi."
The philosopher recounted calmly, "I am full of doubts—why don't they think? Why not open their eyes and see through those childish lies? Do they really understand what they are doing? Have they really figured out their roles? Are they truly alive?"
After a brief pause, he finally asked that ultimate question:
"—Are such people truly deserving of a Soul?"
novelraw