Super Righteous Player
Chapter 1039 - 97: Repetition of Disaster

Chapter 1039: Chapter 97: Repetition of Disaster

The Tower Master thought to himself.

But he did not voice these thoughts aloud, only replying respectfully, "So I presume you’ve come here with a matter to discuss."

"What do you think we’re here for?" Annan asked with interest. "And what’s your name?"

"My name is Emil. Emil Hart, known among the Zipper Gang as ’Old Daddy Hart.’ In addition to managing the gambling den, I’m also responsible for education and taking care of newcomers."

Tower Master "Old Daddy Hart" made no attempt to hide his information and laid it out clearly.

After all, it wasn’t a secret. If one wanted to know, it wouldn’t cost more than half a silver coin to find out. It was better for him to divulge it himself and show his sincerity.

But what he didn’t expect was that the little white-haired man, upon hearing this, directed his querying gaze towards another person—this made his heart tighten.

Could they be here to cause trouble for him?

Suddenly, the man dressed as a Wizard from the Jade Tower lifted his head. He looked at Emil, fell silent for a moment, and then asked, "Do you know Harry, Bill, or Nona? Their last name is Hart... They lived over a hundred years ago?"

"...Honestly, I don’t remember."

Emil Hart pondered seriously for a moment and then shook his head regretfully, "I do know a Bill Hart, but I think that’s not the person you’re looking for. He’s my uncle, only a few years older than I am."

"Is this gambling den a family business passed down to you?"

"This isn’t something that gets passed down in families. The land hasn’t changed for hundreds of years, but pirates who squat here come and go, replaced every few years or decades. My grandfather’s generation were still farmers.

"However, this place was once my ancestral home. I converted it into a gambling den... After all, according to the rules here, people aren’t allowed to intrude and cause trouble. I stay inside all day and come out less, making it slightly safer.

"After all, my predecessor was stabbed in the back with a knife when he went out."

The owner Emil spoke nostalgically, "If I had the money to go to school back in the day, I wouldn’t have ended up overseeing this place. And don’t laugh at me, but my sculpting skills were quite commendable... at least to the extent that I could pass the entrance exam for Dennisiowa Theological College.

"If I had money for school back then, I might be an architect in Dennisiowa’s East District by now."

Upon hearing the phrase "no money for school," Isaac fell silent for a moment.

A myriad of complex emotions flashed through his eyes.

After a while, Isaac finally spoke in a soft voice, "Did you pass the entrance exam back then?"

"I did, I got a B+."

Emil smiled, "That’s decent enough, right? But it’s a pity... I didn’t get an A grade, so I couldn’t get a scholarship."

A longing look crossed his face, "It’s regrettable really, just missed it by a little. But at least it wasn’t an A-... that might have driven me mad."

At Dennisiowa Theological College, a [B-] grade was sufficient. But to get a scholarship, one would need an [A] or higher. An A grade covered all tuition fees, and an A+ even offered twice that amount.

Isaac had achieved the highest A+ grade back then.

"If there was a chance to follow the right path, who would choose this job? It offends people and doesn’t pay much... Even if one were to make enough money as a thug, they could quit, but I never had that chance.

"Without the Zipper Gang, I probably wouldn’t make it out of the city before getting caught. Even now while I’m still in the Zip Federation, who knows when someone might throw me into the sea."

Though Emil felt nostalgic, he had no regrets, "Our boss has a saying, and I think it makes a lot of sense: ’Let them dislike you, it doesn’t matter. As long as they fear you, they are powerless.’

"I’m past the age where I hope others like me. If possible, I hope they would fear me, too."

That was an almost tranquil demeanour—an acceptance that he had no opportunities left, wearing a neutral expression, scraping a living from the ground.

Neither aspiring nor reminiscing.

Isaac fell into silence.

Beside him, Annan held his staff, silent.

As Isaac spoke, Annan had already realized—Isaac’s stepfather, last name Hart. If not unexpectedly, this Tower Master was indeed a descendant of Isaac’s brothers and sisters.

But unlike those nobles, those great families.

He didn’t even know who his ancestors were, what they had been through.

Everyone was just ordinary people.

Stories that get passed down are just those that are told from mouth to mouth, barely remembered beyond five generations.

Although Isaac felt hardly any affection for his brothers and sisters... rather, it would have been better if they had died.

But after seeing, a hundred and fifty-sixty years later, their children trapped in the same plight he had faced—possessing the talent to change their fate but having to drop out of school due to the inability to pay high tuition fees.

In Dennisiowa,

if there wasn’t a decent job... one would either live day by day without stability or risk their lives to make money.

Either way, it meant that there was no hope left in this life.

Isaac just felt his mind was groggy.

He couldn’t even remember when exactly he and Annan had left there. Nor could he recall what Annan and that man talked about afterward...

His mind was just very cluttered, extremely chaotic. The neural center of his puppet body seemed overheated due to intense thinking.

By the time he came to his senses, they were already in a private room of a tavern.

Although Annan was clearly underage... there weren’t so many rules in Dennisiowa.

Despite the scarce presence of the Silver Baron’s congregation here, the people of Dennisiowa didn’t consider themselves as greedy as the people of Noah—although most of them had never seen the people of Noah, they still believed Noahians were the greediest.

"Money here works much more effectively than in Noah. It’s not just for getting me in; it can even get the guests who were already in the room to leave."

Annan held the glass with both hands, admiring it under the light while leisurely saying, "The people here aren’t like those in Noah, who believe ’money can exchange everything.’ They don’t understand the meaning of ’trade,’ nor do they see any use in ’contracts.’ They just think ’I need to make more money, no matter the cost.’

"Looking around, everyone on this street needs money and desperately craves it to try changing their life... even if they have money, it’s still extremely hard.

"Though the people here don’t follow the Silver Baron... without money, one can hardly move an inch here."

Seeing Isaac becoming slightly silent, the corners of Annan’s mouth lifted slightly.

He set down his half-finished rum with lemon, ice cubes, and mint leaves.

"Do you feel that, after more than a hundred years, people seem to have made no progress?"

"...I just feel that the calamity is repeating."

Isaac took a deep breath. "It seems like no one has done anything wrong, yet everything seems off. Everyone lives only for themselves; how did the world come to be this way?

"Were Hugo and Salvatore’s efforts... really valuable and meaningful? Are these people really worth saving?

"If they need to be saved, where should I even begin..."

His voice trailed off.

This former Tower Master who invented "Ritual Modularization Technology" realized for the first time—clearly aware—the world indeed had changed for the better, but it hadn’t changed much.

The whole city had become neater and brighter.

People’s basic needs had improved several times over.

What were once hand-spinning mills and smithies had now become factories belching black smoke; meats and alcoholic drinks, once even the minor nobility couldn’t often afford, were now available almost daily; the whale oil used for lighting had been replaced by greener, brighter fire...

But from another perspective, relationships between people hadn’t changed.

The poor were still destined to be poor for life.

Nobility was nobility from birth.

Though theoretically, there was a possibility to change one’s fate, it remained just a possibility. Even those who qualified might miss it for various reasons...

"Hugo said, conflicts arise because people fight over limited resources. But I feel... that doesn’t quite fit."

Isaac looked to Annan for answers.

He knew that seeking such answers from a fifteen-year-old boy indicated something might be off with his thinking.

But even consolation would do. Just having someone to talk to would be good.

His mind just felt so chaotic...

Seeing the completely renovated city, becoming prosperous and "civilized" as a pirate’s haven, and seeing a man with the same surname as that man, taking a path similar yet different to his past self... only to fall even deeper.

—At that moment, Isaac even felt that all the effort... was utterly meaningless.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.