Exploring Technology in a Wizard World

Chapter 132: Chapter 131: Toxic Chicken Soup
 

Richard slowed his pace in the hallway outside the box to wait for Gro.

In the corridor stood a line of over ten beautiful girls, likely brought in by Hua’er, all looking somewhat nervous as they pressed themselves against the wall. They stared at Richard, trying to smile politely, but their expressions were somewhat stiff.

Richard didn’t mind and continued to walk slowly. Soon, a voice came from the box, indicating that Gro had been tested. He heard Hua’er announce the result, “No talent… well, no, it should be Low-level Extreme Lower Talent, which actually isn’t much different from having no talent at all. Prince Gelo, right? I’m sorry, but you’re not qualified either, please leave.”

“Uh…”

Footsteps echoed as the door to the box opened and Gro walked out. Richard stopped for a few seconds, then Gro caught up.

At this moment, Gro’s face seemed a bit out of sorts as he kept repeating, “I have talent, I have talent, I actually have talent!”

“Yes, indeed you have talent, I heard it,” Richard nodded, not forgetting to remind him, “But it’s Low-level Extreme Lower Talent. Although I’m not very clear on how Hua’er and White Stone Tower categorize talent levels, I guess the so-called Low-level Extreme Lower Talent is just slightly better than having no talent at all.”

“So what?” Gro didn’t care, “Even so, I have talent! At one point, I thought I had no talent at all, but now Hua’er has told me that I do have talent, and that’s enough. It doesn’t matter if it’s low. As long as I have talent, I can become a Wizard through hard work. If I work harder than others, I will definitely succeed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Gro asserted confidently, “If others meditate for two hours, I’ll meditate for four. If they meditate for four hours, I’ll meditate for eight. If they meditate for eight hours, I’ll meditate for sixteen! I refuse to believe that I won’t catch up to them.”

“The philosophy of effort,” Richard murmured to himself.

“What?”

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“The philosophy of effort, the theory that if you work hard you can change everything,” Richard spoke out loud, “In some ways, it’s not wrong, but that doesn’t mean it applies in every situation.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Heh. Let me ask you, you said that if others meditate for eight hours, you, with your lower talent, can meditate for sixteen hours to catch up. But what if they work just as hard and also meditate for sixteen hours? Can you meditate for a full day and night without eating, drinking, resting, or sleeping?”

“I…”

“Even if you could, sometimes you’ll find that the effect of you meditating for a day and night might not even match someone else’s hour of meditation.”

“I…”

“Sometimes, effort can’t solve everything. Effort is a good thing, but it has its limitations, and you must understand that clearly,” Richard said indifferently, “There are many times when effort alone doesn’t guarantee success.

How much effort a person puts in isn’t something to boast about. Staying up all night, not resting in the dead of winter or the heat of summer—if success could come from just that, then miners in mines and slaves stripped of their freedom would be the ones most deserving of success.

You can work hard, but don’t become obsessed with the effort, and certainly don’t be moved by your own hard work. What you need to do is gain a clearer understanding of everything you face and figure out what the right course of action is. If the direction of your effort is wrong, then the more you work, the farther you are from success.”

“…”

“Do you know, there was once a man named Edison who said, ‘Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.'”

“That’s correct,” Gro’s eyes lit up, then his brows furrowed. The saying somewhat matched his own thoughts, but not Richard’s point of view, and Gro was a bit confused as to why Richard would say that.

The next moment, Richard said, “The problem is, that statement isn’t complete. There’s a second half. Edison said; ‘Genius is one percent inspiration plus ninety-nine percent perspiration. But that one percent of inspiration is the most important, even more important than the ninety-nine percent perspiration.'”

Gro scratched his head: “Uh…”

Gro was a little reluctant to concede, and after a moment, he said, “So this guy named Edison is saying that inspiration, or talent, is more important than effort, right? But even so, even if I don’t have much talent now, I think I can still work hard to change that. I refuse to believe I’ll always be this way, always without talent.

I believe that through hard work, one can gain talent. Then, following what this Edison guy said, I will definitely succeed.”

“Alright,” Richard interjected, then continued, “But you know, that man Edison actually didn’t say the second half. He only said the first part, and the second half was spoken by a female author named Cindi Myers. Then some good samaritan put the two halves together.”

“…”

An extended silence.

Gro gaped at Richard, who maintained a placid expression, his mouth opening and closing for a long time without uttering a single word.

This was fishing, wasn’t it? No, it wasn’t fishing; it was dynamite fishing!

Although he didn’t understand the meaning of fishing or dynamite fishing, at this moment, Gro felt it was somewhat akin to his feelings.

For some reason, Gro suddenly remembered a wild boar he encountered once while hunting in the border forest, and he couldn’t help feeling sorry for that wild boar.

No, he should feel sorrier than the boar. No, no, no, what was all this about boars or no boars, his thoughts were all over the place… Had he gone dumb…

“You understand now, don’t you?” Richard asked.

“Do I understand?” Prince Gelo panicked and stuttered, swallowing hard, “What… should I understand?”

At the same time as he spoke, Prince Gelo felt he might really be a fool.

Although he’d realized for a long time that following Richard around made him feel like a fool, now it was no longer about feeling like one; he had become a complete fool.

What on earth was he supposed to understand? He was utterly confused!

Richard spoke in a calm voice, “What I want to say and what I want you to understand is that effort is not the most important thing. More important than effort is…”

Richard pointed to his head, “More important than effort is intelligence, reason, discerning the truth, figuring out what should and should not be done, and not being deceived by false appearances. Simply put, what’s more important than effort is… wisdom.”

Prince Gelo: “…”

Suddenly, Prince Gelo felt the urge to cry. So it was wisdom then. Alright, he understood now, it was wisdom. He also understood that he had no wisdom, but at least he hadn’t completely lost his wits; he could still comprehend human speech.

But… was it necessary to go so far? All he wanted was to make an effort, to strive for something. And as a result, he was so harshly criticized that he began to doubt his own intelligence.

Was that not a bit cruel?

The criticism he could take, but it was the twists and turns, the baiting and switching. Giving him a glimmer of hope followed by despair, and then a bit more hope and despair, until the final blow. Couldn’t the message have been made clear from the start, could he not have been given a quick end? Didn’t he, a prince, have any dignity?

“Hmm?” Prince Gelo suddenly thought of something and turned his head to look at Richard, “Wait a minute, you said my talent is low and effort is useless, urged me not to fool myself, and to be smarter, to have wisdom. But there is one thing you haven’t explained to me yet.”

“Hmm?”

“Your talent!” Prince Gelo exclaimed wide-eyed, “During the test earlier, Lord Hua’er said you had no talent. So how can you cast spells? If you can cast spells without any talent, then what’s to say I, someone with talent, can’t do the impossible either?”

“That’s actually quite simple to explain,” Richard responded, “It’s just that…”

After Prince Gelo listened, his eyes widened in disbelief: “Really?”

“What else?” Richard replied.

“Then…” Prince Gelo wanted to ask something more, but Richard had already walked away. Prince Gelo quickly followed after him.

At that moment, Prince Gelo suddenly thought to himself: Forget about dignity! Can dignity be eaten? Better to curry favor with the respected and wise Lord Richard.

…

Outside the inn, Richard and Prince Gelo walked out, preparing to return.

On the street outside, many young nobles previously expelled due to insufficient talents stood around. They would approach anyone who came out to ask about their results. Although they were onlookers because of their disqualified talents, they were still curious about the results of others.

Gradually, they discovered that the results of others were not much better than their own. So far, not to mention those who passed, there were only three people with “Low-level Lower Talent,” and the rest were “Without Talent.”

The only one who had “Talent, Qualified” was Anthony Mays, who had come out a little while ago and was now surrounded by everyone, receiving their compliments and admiration.

Amidst the crowd, Anthony couldn’t help but wear a smug expression, imagining his future “wonderful wizard life,” with his mouth corners uncontrollably curling up. But then he regained composure, striving not to appear too complacent, and spoke with a forced calm, “Actually, I didn’t expect this at all. It’s really a surprise. Indeed, I’m a bit scared to board the ship to the mainland. I’ve heard that many things there are very different from here. But… since Lord Hua’er has allowed me to board, I think it’s better to go. What do you all think?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” a group of people chimed in, unwittingly ignoring Richard and Prince Gelo who had stepped out.

Richard and Prince Gelo glanced at the crowd and decided not to acknowledge them, walking toward the carriage instead. However, Anthony, in the crowd, caught a glimpse of Prince Gelo and hastily greeted him.

“Prince Gelo! Prince Gelo, you’ve come out! How did your talent test go with Lord Hua’er?” Anthony approached Prince Gelo quickly, his face showing a measure of respect as he asked.

Prince Gelo couldn’t be bothered to lie and said bluntly, “Low-level Extreme Lower Talent.”

“Low-level Extreme? What level is that?” Anthony blinked, “Does that mean it’s a bit lower than Low-level Lower? Then doesn’t that mean, Your Highness, you are…”

Anthony trailed off, appearing as if he had more to say but stopped short.

Prince Gelo snorted coldly, “That’s right, I didn’t qualify, what of it? Is there something you want to say to me?”

“No, no, of course not, I wouldn’t dare. I just feel regret on Your Highness’s behalf. Have a good journey, Your Highness,” Anthony said, his demeanor having shifted considerably. Without seeming mocking—for that would have been idiotic—he no longer bore as much respect as before, adhering only to basic politeness.

Prince Gelo couldn’t be bothered with the pettiness; after his talk with Richard, he had made up his mind about one firm idea: to please Lord Richard and the future would hold endless possibilities. As for something like talent, pfft, what’s that good for? Can it be eaten? Wisdom is what’s most important, and his wisdom was in realizing who he should please.

With a huff, Prince Gelo walked with Richard to the carriage parked on the street and they drove away.

Those left behind looked at each other, puzzled.