novelraw Chapter 5: Thought Tax
Chapter 5: Thought Tax
Mo Wen, currently browsing the internet, couldn't perceive the mental communications happening in others' heads. Moreover, the absurd world he saw online completely captured his attention.
The moment he connected, Mo Wen was shocked by the startling simplicity.
The main interface had no bundled software, the browser homepage no ads, trending topics, or recommendations. Searches yielded no pop-up ads, and the results contained no obvious clickbait or paid promotions at the top.
How terrifying!
Mo Wen even wondered if he was hallucinating - such abnormality seemed impossible in reality.
But since it existed, there must be reasons behind this anomaly.
Mo Wen first researched death-related laws, uncovering a trove of information.
The planet named "Avel" saw governments dissolve after World War III due to the laughable reason of causing excessive fratricidal slaughter, pushed by corporate powers. Public services and security were handed over to various "companies," diluting the concept of nation-states.
These companies soon became inhumane, then fought multiple wars over profits, leaving the planet ravaged and ecosystems nearly collapsed.
Until over twenty years ago, the Titan Group - a coalition of companies now representing the human collective concept [the Corporation] - initiated the historically documented "company wars" and emerged victorious, opening a new chapter for humanity instead of descending into post-apocalyptic ruin.Basic jobs were automated by AI, education became free, standard healthcare free, public services free, basic food free, basic housing free, financial flows transparent. The Corporation's only tax on civilians and small businesses was the "Thought Tax."
Simply put, the Thought Tax meant that merely existing in this world required maintaining civilized collective mental standards, with extremely detailed regulations covering all aspects.
Violating most Thought Tax requirements was considered tax evasion, requiring psychological treatment, with severe cases receiving euthanasia.
Beyond the Thought Tax, large companies with autonomy levied their own specialty taxes. Take Mo Wen's current location, the Dream Corporation - they collected a "Brain Tax," requiring everyone to log designated online hours.
Having died countless times to finally access the internet, Mo Wen felt nothing about this blatant resource exploitation.
If this was the price for living here, it was far better than he'd imagined.
Yet something felt off - the Dream Corporation didn't treat killing as damaging "brain resources" to fine him.
Under Dream Corporation law, killing merely meant being barred from entering the inner ring without corporate approval, requiring thought screening for inner ring immigration.
This lack of punishment led to revenge being entirely dependent on personal action or hired killers, sometimes causing more casualties.
Meanwhile, the inner ring had virtually no violent crimes.
Strange. Extremely strange.
Mo Wen sensed conspiracy, but he was just an ordinary man who'd die from gunshots, perish under artillery, and couldn't punch through steel barehanded.
He might take out some gang kids with guns, but against nuclear drones, orbital fortresses, and giant war machines easily found online, he doubted he'd last seconds.
Rather than dwell on heavy thoughts, he focused on finding useful online resources.
He'd never tried cybernetic modifications - unsure if effects persisted after death. Advanced knowledge wasn't reliable currency either - different worlds might operate on different rules, with some microscopic-level principles useless elsewhere.
But most macro-level laws remained consistent across human-habitable worlds.
"First Aid Guide," "100 Wilderness Survival Tips," "Becoming Civilized from Scratch," "Ancient Iron, Modern Refining"...
Mo Wen easily found many potentially useful books - so many he worried about finishing them all. If only something could accelerate learning.
Suddenly it hit him - this was a near-future world. Such things might exist.
Moments later, Mo Wen found his target on Dream Corporation's official store.
Dreamweaver Type-2, retail price: 220,000 credit points.
This learning device used cutting-edge direct-input learning rather than old-style brain activation and memory enhancement.
Though slightly slower in recall than older models, its capacity dwarfed predecessors, able to input millions of books - terabytes of content - directly into the brain.
Most buyers praised it, with negative reviews clearly stating only minor recall issues - input worked perfectly. Some suggested unconventional uses, like reading novels offline in one's mind.
For others, mental novels might be trivial, but for Mo Wen bored to death at [Revival Points], this was miraculous!
The only downside was the price.
Mo Wen wasn't sure about maximum wages, but learned most outer ring residents didn't work, living on basic income. A flagship store bundle of twenty-four Revival Type-4s cost 120,000 credits - even at single-retail of 6,000, that's only 144,000, with gray-market prices even lower.
In contrast, all books he wanted totaled just 1.03 credits thanks to the Corporation's free education policy.
His current balance? -6 credits.
Quite a gap.
So before figuring out money-making, maybe watch some free dancing girls...?
Lewdness being human nature, such videos usually had high traffic. Yet Mo Wen found dance sections surprisingly normal, with anime/2D categories similarly tame.
No matter - happiness existed beyond lewdness.
After five minutes of relaxation, Mo Wen resumed studying anatomy, combining free videos with his combat experience.
Pain was eternal, relaxation temporary. Before finding solutions, excessive relaxation meant weakened mental endurance and wasted time.
Besides, practice-integrated learning wasn't boring. Free online courses proved unexpectedly engaging, absorbing Mo Wen completely.
Only when Kai physically shook him awake did Mo Wen realize they'd arrived.
"Mind your manners now. We're meeting the best local middleman - the Broker."