Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 436 Indeed, we are fake.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clearly audible in the quiet environment of the coffee shop.

As soon as the words were spoken, the largest sunflower in the painting began to slowly rotate.

The center of the flower head gradually twisted and deformed, and countless tiny seeds rearranged and combined to eventually form the outline of a human face.

It was a slightly comical face, with an exaggerated nose and thick lips, but its eyes were unusually sharp:

"Where's the evidence? Talking without proof won't do."

There are plenty of people impersonating members of the Crown Clan these days; a thousand years ago, one guy even tried to fool them.

Sunflower's tone was serious, like that of an old scholar, but her expression was full of amusement:
"I need bloodline verification, a standard procedure, and I can't be careless."

Without hesitation, Eve took out a small silver dagger and gently cut her finger.

A few drops of bright red blood fell onto the picture frame and were immediately absorbed by the wooden frame.

The sunflower stretched out a thin vine, dipped it in a little blood, and tasted it.

Its expression resembles that of a seasoned sommelier appraising a fine wine:

"Yes, it is indeed pure Crown Clan bloodline, the lineage is very pure... however..."

It frowned, looking puzzled.
"Why does it smell like black tea? And a little bit... lemony?"

"I drank lemon black tea this morning."

Eve explained helplessly, a slight blush creeping onto her face.

"Oh I got it!"

The sunflower nodded as if suddenly understanding:

"Then there's no problem. Young people these days really have good taste; lemon black tea is indeed a good choice."

I personally recommend adding a little honey; it will make the flavor richer.

After he finished speaking, the entire painting began to slowly rotate.

It's not the picture frame that's rotating, but rather the world within the painting that's undergoing spatial reconstruction.

The sunflower field gradually disappeared, replaced by a stone staircase leading downwards.

Have a wonderful day!

The sunflower-faced figure spoke last, then transformed back into a normal flower pattern, as if everything that had just happened was an illusion.

The staircase in the passageway has a strangely transparent texture, as if it were carved from crystal.

But these steps are clearly not ordinary building materials—they possess their own consciousness and emotions.

"No no no!"

When they reached the seventeenth step, the step suddenly spoke up in protest, uttering the voice of a middle-aged man:

"I'm in a bad mood today! I don't want to be trampled on! Let whoever wants to trample on me do so, I'm going on strike!"

After saying that, the step really disappeared, leaving a hole in the staircase.

"This"

Eve was taken aback; this situation was clearly beyond her experience.

"It's ok!"

The eighteenth step next to him immediately spoke up, his voice sounding like that of a helpful young man:

"I'll take his place! It's a bit against the rules, but it's good to help others!"

As he spoke, the step actually jumped off its original position and moved to the empty space.

Wow! So handsome!

"So kind-hearted!"

"This is the spirit of the steps!"

Exclamations of praise rang out from the other steps, filling the entire staircase with laughter and joy.

"Thank you, sir!"

Ron politely expressed his gratitude for the helpful step.

The steps immediately turned pink with embarrassment, and the voice became shy:

"You're welcome! It's my pleasure to help you! Actually, I've always wanted to do something special for my guests."

Eve shook her head helplessly: "Our ancestors' wicked sense of humor really is everywhere."

Finally, they reached the end of the passage.

The entrance to the treasure vault was a huge archway made of some kind of metal that emitted starlight.

But this door clearly suffers from severe personality disorder.

"Welcome! Welcome!" came the enthusiastic greeting from the left side of the door, the voice as warm as a spring breeze.

"Honorable guest, you've finally arrived! We've been waiting for you for a long time!"

"Get out of the way! Danger!"

The right half of the door roared viciously, its sound as piercing as a winter wind:

"This is not a place for you! Run! While there's still time!"

"Don't listen to his nonsense!" the left side hurriedly explained.

"My 'roommate' is always overly pessimistic. Come in, there are the most precious treasures waiting for you inside!"

"Blindly optimistic!" the right side retorted angrily.

"You have no idea what terrifying things are hidden in the treasure vault! Every single one of those treasures is stained with blood!"

The two sides began to argue fiercely, and their voices grew louder and louder:

"You pessimist!"

"You dangerous guide!"

"You're the dangerous one!"

"You are!"

The arguing echoed through the corridor, and even the walls seemed to complain about the noise.

Eve sighed helplessly:
"Please be quiet, we need to go in, and..."

She glanced at Ron, a look of longing appearing in her purple eyes:

"This is my mentor, a person I can trust."

The door suddenly fell silent, both halves turned to her simultaneously, and then said in unison:

"Oh, it's little Eve! We didn't recognize you at first, you've grown so much!"

"I'm sorry, we argued again." The right side looked somewhat ashamed.

"It's an old problem; I can't control my emotions when I see strangers."

"How about this?" suggested the left side.
"We'll decide by rock-paper-scissors, and the winner gets to decide. It's fair and reasonable, and there's no deception between young and old."

So the two halves of the door began to seriously play rock-paper-scissors.

This process is utterly comical because they can only represent three choices using door knockers.

After three rounds of fierce competition, the left side narrowly won.

"Yes! I won!" the person on the left cheered excitedly.

"As agreed beforehand, I have the right to decide whether to open the door. The answer, of course, is—welcome to the treasure vault!"

The door began to open slowly, accompanied by the sound of ancient mechanisms turning.

But halfway through the drive, the right side suddenly protested defiantly:

"I request a rematch! Your move just now was suspiciously cheating!"

"Protest denied!" The left side firmly rejected the claim.

"The rules of the game must be agreed upon beforehand, and there can be no going back on them afterwards!"

"Then I will appeal! I will appeal to a higher authority!"

"There is no higher authority here! And the master doesn't concern himself with these trivial matters!"

The door remained half-open, and a heated "courtroom debate" was still raging on both sides.

Ron and Eve could only helplessly turn sideways to prepare to enter.

Just as the two were about to step through the magnificent door, ripples suddenly appeared in the air.

The purple light flowed like mercury, condensing into a projection of Cassandra before them.

“Ron, before you enter the vault, I must remind you of a few things.”

Her voice was solemn, quite different from usual:

"My ancestor's collection is indeed valuable, but each piece is filled with his unique 'bad taste'."

Cassandra's projection slowly paced around:
"Our ancestors never played by the rules. Their treasure trove was not just a place to display precious items, but also a huge testing ground."

Ron noticed that Cassandra's eyes flickered as she said this.

Clearly, she herself had paid a price for this treasure trove.

“Also,” Cassandra glanced at Eve, then looked back at Ron:
"Once you've made your choice, I need to talk to you privately about the expedition."

There was a barely perceptible sense of urgency in her tone:
"The situation of the Vital civilization is more complex than publicly reported."

Ron sensed the urgency in her tone and gave Eve an apologetic look:

"It seems our plans for tonight will have to be postponed." The girl was a little disappointed, but she quickly adjusted her expression and nodded understandingly.

“I understand, mentor. Important things take precedence.”

She added softly:

"And it is an honor for me to witness your choice in the ancestral treasure trove."

Cassandra's projection slowly faded, but her last words echoed in the air:

"Remember, there, logic is a luxury, and common sense is a burden. Only by embracing absurdity can you survive."

………………

As they officially entered the treasure vault, a welcoming address suddenly rang out from the air, the voice carrying the uniquely mocking tone of the King of Absurdity:
"Welcome, welcome, my beloved Kubao! May you visit with love and care?"

Ron frowned, trying to understand the meaning of the sentence in reverse:

"Is he saying, 'Welcome, lovely visitor, to my treasure trove'?"

“You understand correctly.” Eve nodded as if it were commonplace.

"Our ancestors found the normal way of speaking too boring, and they believed that speaking backwards could 'overturn people's inherent understanding of language'."

Her expression revealed a hint of distress:
“My mother told me that this was not the most absurd thing.”

Sometimes our ancestors would speak in a language that didn't exist at all, and then ask the listener to understand its meaning for themselves.

Suddenly, a huge buffet restaurant appeared out of nowhere.

In the center of the restaurant, a skeleton wearing a tall chef's hat is excitedly wielding a spatula.

Blue flames burned in the skull's eye sockets, and its jawbone made a clicking sound as it spoke.
"Free samples! Free samples! Specialty dishes from the Absurd Kitchen!"

"Every dish embodies three thousand years of my culinary expertise! I guarantee you will experience an unprecedented sensory feast!"

The skeleton chef noticed Ron's curious gaze and immediately began to introduce the chef enthusiastically:

"Sir, you seem to be a discerning diner! I recommend you try this 'Wisdom Soup'!"

He pointed to a soup pot steaming with golden vapor, the liquid inside flowing like a galaxy:
"This is my masterpiece! It's brewed from philosophical classics of thirteen different civilizations. One sip and you'll experience the ultimate wisdom of the universe!"

Just then, the entire restaurant suddenly exuded an eerie sense of oppression.

Ron felt a strong urge rising from the depths of his soul, a urge that he had to "face it honestly."

"Do not come near!"

Eve quickly grabbed Ron's sleeve, her purple eyes filled with wariness:
"Our ancestors set the rules here: everyone must 'sincerely try to understand the nature of absurdity'."

Her voice carried the fear of past memories:
"Back then, my mother had to drink the 'soup of wisdom' because of this rule."

She thought she could resist with the power of a great wizard, but for three days in a row she could only speak the opposite of what she meant…

The skeleton chef, somewhat displeased, put down his spatula after hearing these words.
"Little Eve, I'm heartbroken by what you say about my cooking! That Wisdom Soup is my life's masterpiece!"

His tone was filled with extreme pride:

"It allows one to experience true wisdom! To deeply understand the essence of language and thought!"

"What level of wisdom?" Ron couldn't help but ask curiously.

"It's the level of realizing how foolish you are!"

The skeleton chef excitedly waved his bone claws:

"Your mother understood this deeply at the time, which is why she used irony to express her true feelings! What a profound insight into life that was!"

As he spoke, a screen suddenly appeared in the air, playing footage of Cassandra's "spectacular performance" from years ago:
In the scene, Cassandra sits at a conference table, facing a dozen or so serious-looking high wizards.

"A proposal regarding the development of trade routes between different worlds."

Cassandra, who had just been promoted to Archmage, cleared her throat and said in an extremely serious tone:

"I think this is absolutely stupid! We should abandon this pointless plan immediately!"

The meeting room was completely silent; all the high wizards stared at her in shock.

Cassandra seemed to realize something was wrong and tried to explain, but what she said only made things more outrageous:
"No, no, no, I mean this plan is too perfect! So perfect that it makes me despair! We absolutely shouldn't support it!"

In the scene, High Wizard Vinard frowns: "Cassandra, what exactly are you trying to say?"

“What I’m trying to say is…” Cassandra’s face grew even paler:

"This plan is worthless, so we should oppose it with all our might."
No, I meant this plan is incredibly valuable, so we should fully support it. Wait, what am I even saying?!

Finally, she simply shut her mouth, covered her face with her hands, and left the other great wizards there looking at each other in bewilderment.

The screen disappeared, and the skeleton chef nodded in satisfaction.
"Do you see that? What profound philosophical reflection! Your mother, through personal experience, understood the falsity of language and the limitations of thought!"

His tone became more excited:

"This experience is more valuable than reading a thousand philosophy books! I am incredibly proud of my masterpiece!"

Ron felt the compelling urge deep within his mind, but his expression gradually became playful.

“These are indeed very interesting rules,” he said slowly.

“'Sincerely try to understand absurdity'—then I will begin to understand it now.”

He walked up to the soup pot, but instead of picking up the ladle, he picked up the pot itself.

"Since this is a soup of wisdom, then the pot should also be full of wisdom. I've decided to eat the pot."

"This is not right!" the skeleton chef exclaimed.

"Reasonable?" Ron retorted. "In an absurd world, isn't 'irrationality' the most reasonable thing?"

He began to seriously analyze the "edibility" of the pot:
"This pot was used to simmer soup with philosophical classics, so it has absorbed the essence of wisdom."

Wouldn't it be more efficient to consume the food directly than to use a diluted soup?

The skeleton chef was completely baffled by this logic:

"But...but the pot is made of iron."

"Iron?" Ron feigned sudden realization:

“You previously said that soup has no ingredients, it's just a pure concept. Then the pot is obviously not actually made of iron, but rather a concept of a ‘container’!”

He began tapping the pot with his fingers, making a crisp sound:

"Listen to this sound! How beautiful! This is wisdom singing!"

Eve watched in stunned silence; she had never seen anyone use absurd logic so skillfully.

"Sigh...you're incredibly cunning, but I'll let you pass!"

The skeleton chef sighed helplessly:
"In that case, I'll just have to enjoy the soup myself; it's wrong to waste such delicious food."

After saying that, he began to enjoy the "delicacy" he had prepared.

The skeleton chef first scooped up a spoonful of "wisdom soup," drank it, and immediately began to speak ironically:

"This is absolutely awful! My cooking skills are terrible!"

However, his actions showed great enjoyment; he even gently stroked his jawbone with his bone claws, as if savoring the delicious taste.

“This contradiction,” Ron muttered to himself.
"Is this the 'wisdom' he speaks of, where words and actions are completely contradictory?"

Upon hearing this, the skeleton chef suddenly stopped eating and stared directly at Ron with his empty eye sockets:

"Young man, you're beginning to understand."

This time, his tone became unusually serious, even carrying a certain air of authority:
"In this universe, the truth is often the opposite of what appears to be."

The most honest words may conceal the deepest lies.

The deepest lie may point to the purest truth.

He put the comical chef's hat back on, and his tone returned to its previous lightheartedness:
"However, all of this is too heavy!"
Keep exploring! Even more exciting experiences await you!

The restaurant gradually disappeared, as if it had never existed.

Immediately afterwards, the entire space of the treasure vault underwent another dramatic change.

Countless mirrors rose from the void.

In the mirror, the two transformed into comical clowns, dressed in exaggerated costumes, performing various acrobatics.

The "Ron" in the mirror is trying to walk a tightrope, but the tightrope is made of noodles, so he keeps falling.
The "Eve" in the mirror is tossing and catching colorful balls, but those balls are alive and fly away on their own.
The strangest thing is that in a particularly large mirror, "Ron" and "Eve" are standing in front of the mirror, but they are looking at the real two people outside the mirror.

The "Ron" in the mirror pointed outside and shouted:
"Look! Those two fakes! They actually dare to impersonate us!"

The "Eve" in the mirror, hands on her hips, said angrily:

"Yes! We are the original! They are clearly inferior pirated goods!"

“This is a trap.”

The real Ron calmly analyzed:

“Once we try to ‘prove’ our authenticity, we fall into an endless cycle of self-doubt.”

He carefully observed the arrangement of the mirrors:
“Each mirror reflects different possibilities and different identities.”

The king of absurdity doesn't want to test our courage, but rather our level of certainty about our own identity.

"Then what do we do?"

Eve asked anxiously, while the fake Eve in the mirror continued to mock and provoke her.

Ron pondered for a moment, then suddenly gave a knowing smile.

He turned to the largest mirror and said in an extremely sincere tone:

"You are absolutely right, we are indeed fake."

(End of this chapter)