Chapter 729: NO．98：Superhuman Fantasy (Part 1)

NO．98：Superhuman Fantasy (Part 1)

To realize a dream, what must be paid?

What kind of hardship, even sacrifice, must be endured to reach such an end?

This is already a cliché.

People are creatures who don't heed lessons, and they are also creatures who often grow arrogant.

Even so, countless people still rush forward one after another, and many still throw themselves heedlessly into the splendour born of desire.

Nothing can be concealed, and nothing can be compared to it.

The jewel in people's hearts possesses exactly that charm.

It can make countless self‑proclaimed rational people become immersed, forgetting that the more common state of that jewel is the broken fact.

But……

The emperor's position is unshakable, the future family head's status is unmovable, the Eight Crown King's bearing is beyond doubt, and besides that, they excel in both talent and learning, possessing extraordinary ability.

Having achieved a feat unprecedented in history, the Ludaofu Symbol does not look like someone who fell short of their dreams.

Nor are they a confused waverer.

She could hardly have her dreams shattered; rather, as the student council president of the Central Academy, and with considerable support in the URA Association as a Horse Girl, her future rise to prominence is all but assured.

Thus, even a dream that takes the entire Horse Girl population into account seems no longer an unattainable fantasy.

What could cause her to waver, and what would she have to be disheartened about?

The answer is a story.

The answer is a statement.

That story originates from a stage extremely similar to the current state of the Holy Terra Federation, a stage with countless superhumans.

Giants from the cosmos, life forms from fantasy worlds, beings once regarded as monsters in antiquity, artificially modified people, and the remnants of a vast prehistoric civilization—these are literally 'superhumans' who transcend ordinary humans, living alongside many ordinary people.

But unlike the current state of the Terra Federation, that stage lacks a sufficiently perfected and universally accepted law that could satisfy both ordinary people and superhumans.

That is a land more chaotic than Evercommon City and Heaven Gate City, where clashes among superhumans, between superhumans and ordinary people, and internal feuds within factions never cease.

That conflict has persisted for countless years, nearly becoming a hardened social phenomenon.

Also on that land was born a being who considers the entire superhuman population.

'Superhumans will protect humanity—but who will protect the superhumans?'

It was precisely that statement that opened the final chapter of the story on that chaotic, protracted stage.

It is a halting, twisting tale in which everyone has experienced a shift in stance; the story's protagonist—one who possesses the special trait of 'being entangled with multiple forces' and has made the greatest contribution—once even doubted whether they had the qualification to change everything.

In the story's development, there once appeared branching options that could lead to several different futures, yet they ultimately evolved into an irreconcilable revolution.

Then came an outcome that was merely passable, far from good, let alone perfect.

Frankly speaking, the story's ending can even be called a compromise.

Superhumans were divided into those who share humanity's origin and those of different origin; the former, for their own reasons, remain in the present, hiding among the populace and occasionally appearing as the real‑life basis of the 'hero' fantasy.

The latter, in utter despair, depart for another world.

This seems to resolve the original conflict over 'justice' versus 'evil', 'humanity' versus 'superhumans'.

"Among all future options, this is more like an escape," Aomo said lightly, "Superhumans hidden among the people become legends, but they may still be discovered, repeating past conflicts, turning the story into the manga style of the Peacebeauty District."

"And superhumans who leave that world may also face hostility from another world; even if they truly find a utopia, that would be a success, but who can guarantee that before making the choice?"

"Finally, the story's protagonist chooses to preserve people's vision of the 'hero', becoming the symbol that guards that fantasy and inspires later generations to keep striving——"

Having spoken thus far, Aomo fell silent, unable to finish.

Because he saw the other person lower their head, gazing down at the marble countertop.

The black tabletop streaked with white veins, hard and cold, reflected the other's purplish‑red eyes.

Those eyes held such complex, tangled emotions that even a demon would shy away.

They also shied away from the faint moisture in those eyes.

So he merely raised his hand, lifted the bottle, refilled the other's glass, and pressed the back of his finger against it.

Then he lifted his own cup, using the liquor to wash down the sharp critique he could not utter.

After that, he raised his head again, looked toward the light with a hint of softness, fell silent for two seconds, then switched to another topic.

"From your story I've heard several points that could change the future, but if there's even a shred of rationality, things wouldn't have come to that point."

"But that, too, is ultimately difficult for the strong." He refilled his own cup and the empty cup pushed back by the other with that pale yellow liquor.

"I have never experienced such a situation, so I cannot truly immerse myself, nor am I qualified to demand that the story's characters adopt an outsider's view; I suppose Miss Ludaofu, too, has seen how things in this world often unfold helplessly, and therefore cannot place herself in the protagonist's shoes."

"But she still cannot break free from this story." The other took the cup, their whitening knuckles revealing the force applied and the cup's sturdiness.

"When she listened to me recount these things, she was as earnest and meticulous as you, wanting to hear everything while reminding me to replace all forms of address with different pronouns."

"Even if you are all on a stage far more ideal than that world."

She tilted her head slightly, watching the young man who had fallen silent, head lowered and brows furrowed, gazing at the cup in his hand.

Though young, she possessed a maturity that belied her appearance, forming a stark contrast with the story's protagonist, who is nearly thirty yet still pure‑hearted.

Yet when facing this young man, she repeatedly thought of that person, and also of that woman.

She felt that these three shared some similar quality.

That quality certainly isn't simply being a 'superhuman'—she is no stranger to such types in her daily circle.

Perhaps… it is because of that focused attentiveness while listening, or the other's excitement upon hearing the story's 'character' introduction.

This reveals the same worries, a similar love?

She is not entirely sure, after all, because the so‑called 'monsters' are something she usually relies on a sense sharper than that of an ordinary woman.

So even if the contact is not frequent, it is not long‑lasting either.

So far, their exchange has even been her speaking dozens of sentences while telling the story, answering the other's mid‑talk questions, whereas the listener, Aomo Lindun, has contributed only two or three sentences—his information output is not rich……

She still cared about her own feelings, smiling as she looked at the other person, as if her worries had already eased and she could now attend to the other's state.

And the other didn't make her wait long.

"Ideal, yet not ideal enough—this is the difference in perspective, Miss Guiye."

The wisp of white curved across his forehead actually resembled the black-haired youth whose bangs were like that miss's; hearing this, he gave a subtle smile: "When it comes to class solidification, this world is no different."

"Perhaps to you all, this world is already ideal enough compared to the past, exactly the new homeland you hoped for, but for the horse girls, for the dream that Miss Rudolf aspired to……"

He rested his elbows on the bar counter, his ten fingers interlaced in a thoughtful pose.

Those eyes, unhidden dark red in the pupils to show respect and revealing black slits, mirrored the dazzling variety on the opposite wine cabinet—a riot of color.

"What's holding her back isn't just the URA Association, but the entire rigid society."