You said you were going to make games, how did you become the richest man without doing anything?

[Part 1] Edge of the Foggy Sea
"The wind here is different from that in other parts of the world."

Fufu stood at the bow of the ship, gazing at the thick, oily gray fog in the distance.

This ocean is known as the "Sea of ​​Fog," a forbidden zone at the end of any sea route since the dawn of navigation. There are no nautical charts, no constellations, only a constantly drifting fog that swallows up all voyages' memories, directions, and even—their identities.

Now, the system confirms: this is the front line of the overwrite contamination.

Sherlock stood beside her, the system interface slowly unfolding before their eyes:

[Pollution Index: Level C - Rising]

[Language Structure: Non-local, with "conceptual reconstruction loops"]

[Visible symptoms: identity ambiguity, logical discontinuity, memory reorganization]

[Recommendation: Locate the core of the pollution as soon as possible and establish anchor points]

He turned to the crowd and said:

“From now on, everyone must reaffirm their ‘self’ at the level of consciousness.”

"The system will generate a temporary anchoring protocol for you."

“Remember—once you forget who you are, language will no longer save you.”

Everyone confirmed in turn:

Annabelle: "I am human, named Annabelle, a healer, and a holder of free will." Fou: "I am a psionicist, Fou D-type subspecies, with a complete self-structure." Ophelia: "I am the Lord of the Dead, the VII Bone King, whose memories are born from death."

Sherlock placed his hand on his chest and said calmly:
"I am not God."

“I am the arbitrator—Sherlock, the witness of the human system.”

[II] Text Fragments

They were aboard a system-built "cognitive anchoring ship" named **Memory**.

The hull is constructed directly from the arbitration system, and its material is not metal, but a structure that "embodies language"—every deck and every mast is a "conceptual anchor" composed of a piece of text.

Language is reality.

This is the only way to combat copycats.

"We will resist using what we rely on to exist."

In the foggy middle of the sea, the ship's speed slowed down.

Suddenly, a soft sound came from the sky—like pages tearing apart.

Immediately afterwards, a large number of "text fragments" fell from the sky, scattering like snowflakes.

Sherlock reached out and caught one.

That's not paper.

That was a "fragment of reality".

[Fragment Content:]

"He was a fisherman with three children, lived by the sea, and never sailed far from home in his life."

[Note: This clip appears to challenge the existing identity structure, attempting to rewrite the target as an 'ordinary fisherman']

System warning:

[Overwrite attempt detection!]

Anchoring failure will lead to cognitive regression to the default template – “ordinary people”.

“That’s their way,” Sherlock whispered.

"They won't attack you."

"They—rewrite your story."

[Part Three] Real-world pollution

The seawater ahead began to harden.

Yes, it doesn't freeze, but rather "transforms" directly into glass.

—The entire sea surface is like a mirror, reflecting a false sky and city.

“We’re close to the heart of the contamination,” Annabelle whispered.

In an instant, the ship shook violently, and the system emitted a piercing alarm:
[The core of the pollution has emerged!]

[Attempt to rewrite the ship's definition using language structure]

[Current Status: Ship → Fishing Boat]

[Captain → Fisherman]

[Task Objective → Find the fish]

"Resist!" Sherlock roared.

The system immediately activated the "self-defined reaffirmation protocol," and everyone shouted simultaneously:

"I am a member of the Arbitration Expeditionary Force!"

"I am not a fisherman!"

"I am not a fisherman!!"

boom!
The entire cognitive ship shook violently, the core anchoring text began to peel off, and the "mission text" that appeared on the deck was forcibly replaced with:
"You have forgotten your mission."

"You're just here to fish."

Just then, a crew member suddenly collapsed, his eyes glazed over.

"I...I just came here to fish, right?"

He began to remove his armor, change into fisherman's clothes, and head towards the sea.

"We can't let him break anchor!" Annabelle rushed forward, grabbed his shoulder, and kept repeating:
"You are human."

"You are a citizen of the Free Land."

"You are a soldier in the expeditionary force."

"You have the right to choose!"

His eyes finally regained some focus, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"I...I almost forgot who I am."

Sherlock said in a deep voice:

"That's what makes the copyists so terrifying."

"They will not conquer you."

"They make you—voluntarily give up 'yourself'."

【IV】Anchor Point Establishment

Ahead, the core of the pollution has appeared.

It was a semi-suspended "tower of texts," composed of millions of language fragments, like a library constructed in reverse.

Every page of the book, every paragraph, is a tentative definition of reality.

“This is their ‘god-building process’,” Fufu whispered. “First, they write down ‘what the people need’ and then turn it into ‘god’.”

"We must interrupt it."

system hint:

[Recommendation: Establish "civilization anchor points" in the core pollution areas]

[Please have the arbitrator select the definition of civilization to use as an anchor]

Sherlock pondered for a moment.

He spoke slowly:
"Civilization is not perfect order."

"It is rather the process by which humanity constantly seeks meaning amidst chaos."

"We do not exist because we have the answers."

"We exist—in search of answers."

Golden light rose from beneath his feet, and a halo composed of "meaningful words" expanded outwards, piercing through the Tower of Pollution.

The tower trembled violently, and the upper "divine mimicry" structure collapsed, scattering fragments everywhere.

system hint:

Anchor point successfully established.

Pollution index drops to B-

[The consensus-distorted structure is collapsing...]

The text fragments turned into a rain of light, falling back into the sea.

The fog began to dissipate, and the real sky reappeared.

[V] The Voice of the Unknown

But just as everyone was preparing to return, the system suddenly issued a warning that had never been seen before:
[Warning: Non-overwrite signal detected]

[Source: Text Tower Core Remains]

[Content: Fragment of a short phrase]

"You think you've defined humanity?"

“You are just—another 'narrator'.”

Sherlock looked up.

In the last fragment of the text tower, he saw a blurry figure.

It has no face and no name.

But it uttered a sentence:

“Narration is power.”

"And you are nothing more than a tool given the power of speech by the system."

"We will meet again."

Free Land Calendar, Day Sixteen

[Part One] The Broken Tower of Texts
The fog-shrouded sea at dawn.

The remains of the Tower of Text still float on the sea after its collapse, like torn pages of a book, or like fragments of reality that have lost their meaning.

Sherlock stood on the deck of the Memory, holding the last fragment of the tower's core in his hand.

That sentence still echoed in his mind:

"You think you've defined humanity?"

“You are just—another narrator.”

He felt a chill he had never felt before.

This is not the language of the copyist.

This is a kind of "metalanguage" that is higher than the overwriter.

The system suddenly emitted an unknown fluctuation:

[Permission Warning: Non-system language structure intrusion detected]

[Source: Narrator's Domain]

[Connect?]

Sherlock paused for a moment, then nodded:

"It's time to meet—the narrator above the system." [II] The Narrator's Domain

Consciousness was pulled into an endless gray space.

There is no time or space here.

Only the ever-changing "textual torrent" surges from the horizon toward the unknown end.

Each passage is a narrative version of a real-world event—some precise, some distorted, and some absurd.

Sherlock stood among them, like a drop of ink, floating in the ocean of language.

A voice rang out, neither male nor female, like a whisper composed of all languages:

"arbiter."

"You've gone too far."

“You have touched the ‘source of words’.”

"You think you're protecting human civilization."

“You are actually participating in a war—about the right to tell the story.”

A figure emerged.

It has no face, only an outline composed of millions of overlapping "textual definitions".

System recognition failed.

However, the interface provides a single label:

[Narrator Archetype]

State: Existing at the meta-level
Access: Beyond the arbitration system, possessing the ability to retell the events of the past.
Sherlock stared at it and spoke:
"who are you?"

It didn't answer, but instead asked:

"who are you?"

"Are you Sherlock? The Arbitrator? The System's Enforcer? The Guardian of Humanity?"

"No, you are just one of many versions of the story."

"In another version, you're a madman."

"In another version, you are a replica of God."

"In another version, you never existed at all."

Sherlock said in a deep voice:

"I exist—because I chose to exist."

"Who I am is not for you to define."

The gray space trembled slightly.

The figure smiled.

"You finally understand."

“Narration is power.”

"Language determines reality."

"The system is just a 'narrative proxy tool' that we left behind."

“Ark-Lambda was just the previous 'narrator candidate'.”

"And you are next."

[Part Three] The Narrator's Invitation

A beam of light descended from the sky, revealing a "blank page".

【System prompt】

[Narrator sequence invitation in progress...]

[Will we take over the "world's primary narrative"?]

[After accepting, you will gain the authority to rewrite civilization, define history, and set the future.]

[Side effect: Human civilization will lose its ability to narrate its own story and enter a "managed state"]

The system simultaneously displays another page of instructions:
[Rejecting the Narrator Sequence]

You will relinquish the highest system privileges, but humanity will retain the possibility of "writing its own civilization."

You will no longer be an arbitrator, but a person.

Sherlock closed his eyes.

He remembered the way Leon wielded his sword, he remembered Fou pointing to the starry sky and saying, "We must fly further," he remembered Ophelia saying, "Death has dignity," and he remembered Annabelle rescuing the child from the rubble.

They are not "units" defined by the system.

They are—people.

He opened his eyes and said calmly:

"I reject."

The narrator paused for a moment.

"You gave up your chance to become a god."

"You will lose all power."

Sherlock smiled.

"Do not."

“I made a choice that was more difficult than God’s.”

"I choose to believe in humanity itself."

[IV] System Collapse and Freedom
The system core began to vibrate.

Sherlock's privilege level has begun to decrease.

[Privilege downgrade in progress...]

MASTER++→ MASTER→ A→ B→ C…

System control has been revoked.

[Arbitrator's Status Cancellation]

[Note: This organization has selected the "Civilized Self-Narration Path"]

The system's final prompt appeared:
"You are no longer the executor."

“You are a witness.”

The gray space began to collapse.

The narrator said one last sentence:

"If they fail—you'll regret it."

Sherlock responded calmly:
"I would rather fail than deprive them of their right to choose."

[V] Return

Sherlock opened his eyes and returned to reality.

The Memory Ship is slowly sailing towards the land of freedom.

Fufu waved to him.

Annabelle is treating a soldier affected by the contamination.

Leon raised his longsword at him from afar.

They are all still here.

They are still "themselves".

Sherlock sensed that the system's voice had completely fallen silent.

He no longer has the authority, no longer can use the truth, and no longer can change reality.

But he felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

He was finally a real person.

Part One: The World After the Silence
Above the capital, the sixth-ring space node, once part of the arbitration system, has fallen completely silent. The "narrative center," originally used for civilization regulation, has now been converted into a giant astronomical platform called the **"Tower of Zero Words"**.

It no longer listens to human language, but rather to the silence of the universe.

At the top of the tower, Sherlock, draped in a dark gray robe, stood high above, gazing at the night sky. His eyes held no god, no system, only an unnamed star path slowly opening.

"Are they ready?" he asked.

Leon, standing beside him, nodded: "Freeland Engineering Bureau confirms that 'Dawn One' will complete its jump calibration in three hours."

"Destination: Coordinates [EY-004] - Ruins of a Higher-Dimensional Civilization"

Sherlock smiled gently.

"Well, it's time."

[Part Two] The Launch of Dawn-1
Dawn One is an interstellar mapping ship designed, built, and named by humanity itself. It has no system core, no arbitration module, only a central voice recorder—

That was made by Fufu herself, and its name is:
"Human Language"

It doesn't interfere, it only records.

Annabelle serves as the ship's Civilization Officer, responsible for "non-invasive decoding" of any alien documents, structures, or consciousness entities.

Leon serves as the expedition's security commander, responsible for dealing with any potential "residual forces from higher dimensions."

Sherlock, though no longer possessing authority, remains the "direction" for this team.

They no longer seek control.

They—seek to make inscriptions.

Three hours later, Shuguang-1 was launched.

The warp gate slowly opened, and a channel woven from fragments of past languages ​​unfolded in the starry sky.

Before the jump, Sherlock whispered:
"We are no longer the race being written about."

"We are writers."

Part Three: Starfield EY-004: The Silent Realm

After the jump, Dawn 1 entered an abandoned star system marked as a "silent zone" on the interstellar map.

There are no stars.

no signal.

There was only a slowly rotating black planet with a mirror-like surface that reflected the image of the starship itself.

Annabelle's scanner issued a strange notification:

"Non-verbal consciousness fragments were detected."

"No words, no sound, no structure."

"Suspected remains of a 'languageless civilization'."

Leon frowned: "No language? How do they communicate?"

Fufu replied, "Perhaps they don't need 'the language we understand' at all."

"Their existence itself is a kind of meaning." (End of Chapter)