I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 1179: The Philosophy of Hypocrisy
Chapter 1179: The Philosophy of Hypocrisy
As Northern stretched his hands and legs with a light groan, he felt his muscles grow taut with relaxation. He slowly opened his eyes to the golden spill of light cascading across the entire scenery.
He sat up and crossed his legs into a lotus position, relaxing forward so he didn’t have to sit with so much effort, and just continued to stare at the day star sinking into the horizon beyond the sea.
The cold wind caused his white hair to dance across his face. It framed his features in a messy halo, the length already draping over his eyes but still parted in the middle, falling over each angle of his face.
His eyes were sharper now—deep, and looking nothing like those of a seventeen-year-old. Nor did they look like those of a twenty-nine-year-old.
Northern’s face was blank, staring at the distant horizon with no readable emotion in his eyes. He replayed his conversation with Kryos, the corruption of Void, the gods, the atrocity the First Origins had committed.
And most importantly, the fact that this world was just a feeding ground.
’The idea of my existence feeding someone suddenly makes me feel so bitter.’
It also gave him a wider scope on how truly powerful these beings could be—beings who decided to control and spread civilization just so they could be fed and regain their strength.
They had even altered the history of the world.
’Can we even believe the nonsense about history at this point…’
Northern squinted his eyes for a moment. But then again, as much as this world was a fabricated one, real men walked it.
History is made by the actions of men. Even if the First Origins engineered the myths about the foundation of the world, the deeds of so many men were bound to have overshadowed it. Take Milhwa, for example.
But it didn’t dilute the tyranny of their strength in any way. Moreover, Northern had been thinking.
“Aoi. I’ve got a question… Origin, Divine, Primordial… those are ranks I’ve never seen.”
[Correct]
[Rankings are multi-universally engineered, and so do not conform to the reality of this single universe]
Northern scratched his jaw.
“So… an Origin is still an Origin, right?”
[Correct]
“What then is a Divine? What power level?”
[Constellations, Gods, Celestials fall into this category. Although they may be in the same rank, there is a sub-rank—with the lowest being Constellations and the highest being Gods]
“Oh?”
An interesting smile curled Northern’s lips.
’After so many years, I finally learn something about gods.’
It was little, but the progress felt obvious. Northern curled one corner of his lips, thinking of the day when he would finally reach them and make them shiver.
But right now, he was too inconsequential for that.
“What about Primordials?”
[Beings above the gods… there is little to no information about the existence of these beings]
“Hm… fair. Do you think Void is a Primordial?”
[Incorrect]
[The Void is a Constellation, a Divine one]
Northern’s eyes widened.
“Oh? Wow, how do you know?”
[Simple. Only that which is divine can be corrupted. If the First Origins wanted a chance to fight the gods, then whatever weapon they created had to have been on almost the same level as the gods…]
Northern nodded thoughtfully.
“…hence Divinity.”
[And they would have needed to profane Divinity to hurt the gods. Divinity cannot harm Divinity, after all]
Northern’s eyes widened with that realization.
“Indeed! They would’ve. So they most likely intentionally, from the very beginning, with their own hands, corrupted the Void. Their mother…”
[Correct]
Northern smiled broadly.
“Aoi, I can tell you’re going to be useful.”
[???]
[Just now?]
Northern raised a brow.
“Why do I sense contempt in your tone, Aoi? Are you capable of emotions?”
[Wrong Command… Enter Proper Command]
Northern gave the panel in front of him a long gaze and pointed two fingers to his eyes, then back to the panel.
He sighed and stood up, looking over the vast harbor. A massive tree stood at the edge of the harbor that led to the ruined Luinngard Empire. Fewer than ten buildings were properly standing. Most of them were either razed to the ground or in rubble, as if a sun had exploded on one side and scorched the entire place.
Some verdant cocoons were already opened, and people were walking around trying to build shelter. Northern almost couldn’t deal with the aftermath of a battle he’d fought. His expression strained slightly, but he exhaled and swallowed it.
If he didn’t want something like this to happen again, then he needed to create a safe haven for humanity.
’Ah! What is that?! What did I just think?! Humanity?!! The focus should be me… I’m definitely doing this for selfish reasons.’
Northern tried to convince himself. As much as only he had the power to stop—or be of any substantial help in containing—what could be coming for them, he had always hated the heroes of stories. The people on whose shoulders the fate of the world usually fell.
They are bound by logic and driven into corners by the weight of responsibility. It’s a prison that heroes willingly enter. By their own hands, they take their freedom and shackle it to such things as responsibility, becoming a beacon of hope for a race that will tear you down at the slightest chance they get.
He didn’t want to be that kind of person.
He wanted to be selfish. If humanity would gain anything at all, it would be because he was selfish. And if they lost everything due to his selfishness, then so be it.
“Yup, it pays to be selfish. That way, I can feel better even when they die. And not be hypocritical about it.”
Northern had come to discover that if there was one thing he’d developed a love-hate relationship with, it was the hypocrisy of human nature.
Hypocrisy was essential in the being of mankind but also could be an heirloom of self-destruction.
’I guess the key is honesty to your own hypocrisy.’
Would that be the answer he’d been subconsciously searching for? Honesty to oneself? Perhaps it didn’t matter—even in hypocrisy, selfishness, or ruthlessness—just don’t lie to yourself.
Northern winced in discomfort, mildly irritated at himself.
“Good stars, when did I get so philosophical!”
He let himself fall down the tower.
