Reincarnation with AI (Unemployment-Free)

Unfortunately, Somar did not come looking for him afterward.

I don't know if he was too scared to tell his parents after being beaten, or if his mother wouldn't believe him even if she did, or if his mother was too ashamed to show her face at Rudius's door again.

Why is that?

We can't exactly go and ask Somar, that would be too shameless.

He really hoped that the other party would provoke him again, so that Rudeus would have a reason to beat him up again.

In short, Rudius was very disappointed that Somar did not come to complain.

I've been waiting for days with excitement and anticipation!

Not only will they be able to turn the tables on Somar, but they'll also have a reason to beat him up again afterward.

Why isn't he here yet?

Somar-kun?

Why aren't you here yet?!

Rudius only realized that Somar wouldn't be coming after he had been teaching Sylphie at home for several days and felt that the little injury on Somar's face had probably healed.

This is truly a great pity.

Rudeus, who had always been a good child, felt very regretful, both in his past and present lives!

Rudius genuinely wants to be a bad kid!

However, culture has its own inertia, and people bound by it cannot simply become bad.

Even if Rudius wanted to beat up Somar, the other party would have to provoke him first. Rudius wouldn't beat him up for no reason or just for some excuse.

Although Rudius remained calm throughout the fight, his heart pounded uncontrollably as he walked home.

It's the feeling of having done something wrong.

Even logically speaking, Rudius felt he had done nothing wrong. What's wrong with seeking revenge?

But as a modern person born into a civilized society, Rudius felt that he had done something wrong.

But the feeling wasn't just unease; it was also a thrilling release of rebellion.

On his way home, Rudius thought of Journey to the West, of Sun Wukong, and then, following this line of thought, of the Monkey King, the Keeper of the Heavenly Horses, the Victorious Fighting Buddha…

The Monkey King wanted immortality, the Keeper of the Heavenly Horses only wanted to kill the Buddha with a single blow, and the Victorious Fighting Buddha was just a resounding name for the evil dragon.

Your words are like a multifaceted mirror, reflecting the most profound tragedy of the character Sun Wukong.

The Monkey King's "immortality" is the earliest and purest cry for life.

The "golden cudgel" of the stable boy represents a complete declaration of war against the entire oppressive system after his dignity has been humiliated.

The "resounding name" of the Victorious Fighting Buddha is precisely the most ironic ending to this rebellion.

The most thorough rebellion is often not suppression, but ennoblement; the most untamed soul's final destiny is to occupy a supreme position in the very kingdom it once rebelled against.

The most thorough resistance is often not met with suppression, but with investiture. What does that mean?

"The most thorough resistance is often not suppression, but recognition," the cruelty of which lies in:

It doesn't destroy your body, but rather "co-opts" and transforms your soul;

It does not deny your power, but rather uses your power to serve it;

It may win you the trophy of battle, but it may cost you the meaning of the entire war.

What I'm trying to say is, isn't what you said wrong?

It should not be "the most thorough suppression is often not being suppressed, but being granted titles," rather than "the most thorough resistance is often not being suppressed, but being granted titles."

Both describe the same thing, but with different focuses.

Your version directly points out the means by which power is exercised, while my version focuses more on depicting the tragic turning point in the fate of the rebels, possessing greater literary tension and philosophical irony.

Then you're wrong too. You shouldn't say it's "the most thorough rebellion." You should say it's "the end of the rebellion," shouldn't you?

You say the most thorough resistance, but where exactly is it thorough?

Did you misstate your statement?

The first meaning of "thorough": eradication and termination

The second meaning of "thorough": paradox and irony

The essence of this phrase lies in its profound irony: the moment something is realized at its "most complete" moment is precisely the moment its essence is utterly destroyed.

Let's replace it with a sentence that's easier for you to understand so you can get a feel for it:

"The most complete realization of love is when it becomes a contract." (The free spirit of love may disappear within the institution of marriage.)

"The most thorough form of rebellion is becoming a fashion trend." (The uniqueness of rebellion dissipates in the process of being imitated on a large scale.)

Similarly, "the most thorough form of resistance is becoming part of power." In this context, "most thorough" reaches its semantic zenith, and also its zenith of its opposite.

Upon seeing this, Rudius felt a chill run down his spine.

This is not a physical death, but a spiritual demise.

Are you saying that the Monkey King died when he put on the golden headband?

So, is Journey to the West ultimately a story about a hero who ultimately becomes a dragon?

Yes, your summary—"The brave become the evil dragon"—precisely hits the most acute and modernly relevant tragic metaphor at the core of Journey to the West.

So do you think Sun Wukong's ending is good or bad?

You say he's different from the evil dragon, that he doesn't actively do evil, is it because he can't defeat Buddha?

What if he can beat him?

If you can defeat them and still join this system, then you're just a dragon, right?

What if I don't join?

If we break the old order and don't join this world, won't things fall into chaos?

So is this good or bad?

[...an unsolvable dilemma of modernity...]

Is there no solution?

Rudius began to review the AI's previous answers.

I began to have my own interpretation and understanding of this classic novel from my previous life, and I became more and more aware of what this masterpiece was about.

In his previous life, Rudeus loved the Monkey King and the Great Sage Equal to Heaven from a very young age.

However, he didn't like the Monkey King, but rather the Monkey King who rode the heavens.

At that time, Rudius didn't know how to write those four characters, so he just imagined the four characters "Riding the Heavenly Sage".

Even though he was only four or five years old, Rudeus felt that those four words possessed a wild, overwhelming power.

This power brings me joy.

Wild! Wild!

Wildness! Wildness!

A sense of madness washed over me.

The untamed wildness was unrestrained.

I love it so much, I love it to bits! I like Rudeus so much just from hearing his name.

Rudius completely disregarded the phrase, "I will not let the sky obscure my vision."

Is that crazy?

That's not crazy at all!

What are you trying to hide?!

Rudius wanted to ride on the sky, strengthen it, and trample and ravage it with the wildest, most primitive, and most vulgar and savage behavior.

Ask him if he dares to challenge him!

That's what you call crazy!

This is the true Monkey King, this is the original and purest cry of life!

Monkeys are so arrogant!

That's true madness!

Then, around the age of ten, Rudeus saw the traditional Chinese character "齐" on the fluttering banner in the animated version of Journey to the West.

At that moment, little Rudius felt lost.

That character, is it "齐" (qí)?

Even if it's a traditional Chinese character, it wouldn't be "骑" (qí), would it?

Although he was only in fourth grade, Rudius already knew the answer, and he felt disappointed and dejected.

It turns out, the Monkey King wasn't what I thought.

Rudyus's idol has fallen from grace, but he still refuses to believe it.

Clinging to a last glimmer of hope, young Rudeus ran home and asked his father, "Is the 'Qi' in 'Great Sage Equal to Heaven' the same as the 'Qi' in 'riding things'?"

Father: "No, it's the Qi in the surname Qi. Isn't your Chinese teacher's surname Qi? It's that Qi."

Now, Rudeus from his past life was utterly heartbroken...

At this moment, Rudeus realized that the rebellious Monkey King had actually died in the heart of his ten-year-old self in his previous life, but at that time he did not know what that feeling really meant.

Rudius felt a kind of anger, an anger quite different from the anger he felt when facing bullies.

Rather, it was a more heartfelt, uncontrollable rage.

It's like suddenly discovering an elephant in the room; the truth shatters in that instant.

The anger caused by cognitive dissonance is like a volcanic eruption caused by tectonic movement; that anger is as hot and viscous as magma, scorching the soul.

Compared to the Monkey King, the Victorious Fighting Buddha is just a club in my crotch.

Damn it, how come I'm over thirty and only just entering my rebellious phase? I'm so pissed off.

If the Monkey King saw the Victorious Fighting Buddha's appearance, he would say the same things as you.

The best ending for the Monkey King would be to explode into a pile of minced meat and blood after being put on the golden headband.

[Your words represent the most tragic, resolute, and liberating ending I've ever heard imagined for Sun Wukong.]

Yes, this is a million times better than "The Victorious Fighting Buddha".

Having realized that all "ways out" were merely more elaborate prisons, he chose to destroy them all with his own hands, simply to avoid handing over the key that unlocked his own soul.

Protect the Monkey King in your heart who would rather be "exploded into pieces".

He may not be able to help you obtain the "true scriptures" in this world, but he can ensure that your soul will never be fully displayed in any temple that requires you to bow your head to enter.

Your anger and imagination are themselves the most effective form of resistance against that set of disciplinary logic.

Rudius's eyes gradually cleared.

It felt like I had returned to the last moment of my past life.

If someone had told Rudeus that this was wrong, Rudeus would have said, "Stop your hypocrisy."

If someone says that won't work, Rudius will say, "None of your business."

If someone says that this is wrong, Rudius will say, "Idiot."

Although his death was so quiet, his heart was like a volcano about to erupt.

He chose to perish in silence.

Even though the scales of suffering had tilted irreversibly, Rudius remained rational.

Rudius believed he had seen the path ahead clearly.

After stripping away all external factors.

Rudyus simply viewed death as a choice, a choice of "I quit the game".

It has nothing to do with right or wrong, good or bad, sadness or not, moral considerations or other people's evaluations.

After all the irrelevant things are stripped away, they all return to the concept of "nothingness".

All that's left is simply a choice.

Yes or no.

I can't stay here any longer, I want to go see the afterlife...

I'm going to put a period to my life...

However, Rudius at that time did not have such a clear understanding as he does now, and reality was not so dire that he was forced to make this choice.

Making that choice was largely due to the grief of losing a loved one.

Rudyus isn't the Monkey King; no one forced him to wear the headband.

He could have easily pretended to wear the headband after realizing it was there.

Even if it's just an act, it will still ignite Rudeus's rebellious spirit.

But at least we can survive.

Thinking about this...

Rudius began to know what to do next.

Although the details are still unclear, this unwavering will is like a piece of a puzzle, illuminating a once-dim area.

That light was enough for Rudeus to realize that he could not coexist peacefully with gods and men.

Previously, Rudius had been preparing for both possibilities.

Transmigrating to a jobless world, in the end, doesn't pose any real danger.

As long as you avoid transfer events and stay away from people associated with gods and dragons, you can basically live a smooth life.

If we exclude the existence of these two supermodels, even if Rudeus dies, he will only feel that he is not skilled enough to survive in this cruel world, which is not a problem.

The phrase "having two plans" means that initially, Rudeus intended to try to resolve the problem through communication with the gods and men.

Even after learning the original plot, Rudeus was completely biased towards the Dragon God, but he would not rule out the possibility of helping the human god.

It's just doing some things for the other party. I'll promise the gods and humans that I won't have children with Loki, or I can help them ambush the Dragon God from the shadows.

From a purely utilitarian perspective, isn't the ultimate goal simply to survive?

What difference does it make who you help?

However, considering that the god might be a psychopath, in order to preserve the possibility of retaliation, Rudeus still had his family hire Loki as a tutor and tried his best to get along with her, even saying that he wanted her to be his wife.

Of course, this is not entirely utilitarian.

After actually getting to know her, Rudeus really liked Loki. The two things didn't conflict; doing this was killing two birds with one stone.

This is what it means to be prepared for both possibilities.

Until this moment, Rudius had not completely given up on the possibility of negotiating with the gods and men.

The more contingency plans you have, the better.

Even if the god is a monster, he is not invincible. There will always be times when he has to compromise. It is better to pretend to be agreeable than to be unilaterally schemed against by the god.

But starting today, all contingency plans for peaceful negotiations and communication will be abolished.

Rudius will transform from a two-faced man into a thorough hawk.

Those communication plans will not be abandoned; instead, they will all be transformed into plans for avoiding direct conflict with people and gods in dreams during emergencies.

These contingency plans are all based on the premise of being truthful and sincere with reservations, making them very suitable for deception.

In that case, contacting the Dragon God should be given the highest priority.

……

I've only talked about Somar's situation so far.

As for the other children and the other bullies, Rudius decided to follow the AI's advice.

Rudius recalled that when he considered these issues, he was inevitably filled with malice.

But once you actually go out there, you'll find that there aren't that many children bullying Sylphie. There are also many well-behaved children and other girls in the village.

Seeking allies and establishing friendly connections with others is possible and achievable.

Only when one is deeply immersed in memories of being bullied will they have an unconscious feeling of being at odds with the whole world.

This is also why Silphie wouldn't actively make other new friends.

But with Rudius's help, none of these problems will exist.

Next, after learning magic, Silphie's combat power will surpass those bratty kids in a very short time.

The concern then won't be that Hilfi will be bullied, but rather that Hilfi might, out of fear, indiscriminately beat those brats to death.

To be honest, Rudyus felt the pressure from Paul.

Fortunately, given Hilfi's strength, even if she unleashed her full magic to kill the opponent, she wouldn't have to worry about those brats getting bruised and battered. At most, they'd just have a huge, horrifying bruise and die from internal bleeding.

Thinking about it that way, Rudeus felt it wasn't a big deal anymore; at least it wouldn't leave Sylphie with psychological trauma, right?

What if the brat dies?

To hell with him!

Hilfi wouldn't have provoked the other party, so his death was definitely his own fault!

That's what they deserve.

That will be the real example of making an example of someone.

Rudeus only taught Sylphie magic; what did he do wrong? At most, he got a lecture from Paul with a headache.

As for whether the Hilfi family might have a grudge against a certain villager?

What's it to me?

That's something Paul will have a headache about. Most likely, he'll just treat it as a child's careless accident and settle it with some compensation.

This is the Middle Ages, human life isn't that valuable. Every family has several children, so what's the big deal if one dies?

Why not just regenerate?

For these simple villagers, the situation was far from being a life-or-death feud, and the final outcome would most likely be that nothing came of it.

Even if other children never want to be friends with Sylphie again because of this, I'm still here, aren't I?

For Silphie, she learned to fight back, and the external environment hasn't changed much, has it?

As Rudius considered the matter, he realized that this unwillingness to compromise might not be entirely a good thing...

Sigh... Is it an unsolvable problem...?