Reincarnation with AI (Unemployment-Free)

Chapter 63 Who Am I

Rudius recalls everything about Alice.

If I remember correctly, Alice is also older than me.

Rudius's original plan was to teach the other party.

But Rudius was not mentally prepared to make the other person better.

Alice is a violent child.

Rudius hates violent children.

This is not prejudice, but Rudius's instinct.

The memories of his past life were like an unhealed wound, and the same kind of violence was used by his peers who dragged him into a corner and punched and kicked him.

However, what they used was "bullying," which is the strong asserting their power over the weak, and confirming that "I can hurt you and you won't fight back."

Fortunately, Alice's violence was not bullying; it was not the kind of bullying that targeted the weak and asserted power.

She beat people up not because they were weak.

She fights not to establish her dominance.

Violence is Alice's way of expressing herself.

Just like other people, they use language to express themselves.

Having gained memories of his infancy, Rudeus possesses the ability to trace the origins of children's behavior in their early years simply by observing their actions.

Alice's way of expressing herself was undoubtedly influenced by Sauros.

That grandfather who would punish those he disliked with an iron fist, and who would never apologize even if he was wrong.

Rudius once again foresaw the "suffering" of a little girl.

But so what?

Dislike does not disappear simply because its causes are understood.

Understanding is not the same as acceptance, and seeing is not the same as being willing to get closer.

Unlike Sylphie, Rudeus showed no basic pity to Alice, who was the "perpetrator."

There was no sense of shared suffering.

Whenever Alice throws a punch, Rudeus instinctively backs away.

These are the scars from a past life speaking for them.

Rudeus's original plan was to use force to stop Alice's violent behavior when faced with her attack, making her physically unable to continue.

Rudyus wasn't a masochist; knowing that the other party would attack him, he would naturally defend himself.

But that's where it ends.

We must not harm Alice, humiliate Alice, or psychologically suppress Alice.

It was merely physical suppression, stopping short of causing serious harm.

If any children, like Alice's classmates, were to foolishly run up to Alice and shout "Beast!"

Rudius felt he deserved to be beaten.

This verbal attack was essentially bullying, but it was ruthlessly crushed by Alice's "violence".

They don't deserve sympathy.

Rudius's original plan was to maintain a bottom line.

That means: if you want to interact with me, you can't use violence.

The door to communication is always open, but Alice can choose not to come in.

Rudius's original plan was simply to use Alice as a springboard to contact Philip and Sauros and resolve the disasters caused by the Great Transfer.

To be honest, Rudius didn't really care whether he could persuade them successfully.

He is not a saint and will not feel guilty about it.

Even after feeling heartbroken because of what happened to Hilfi.

Rudeus tried to stretch out the timeline, imagining a world where the territory of Fetoia was ravaged by death, but Rudeus would not change his mind.

Rudius didn't know those people; he only felt lonely because his hometown had disappeared.

Rudeus felt that he had done more than enough in dealing with Alice.

Communication is a two-way street.

Alice has been molded by violence for too long; she has become accustomed to letting her fists do the talking.

Even if Rudius opens the door, she probably won't come in.

At least not in the short term.

What impact will this have?

In the original work, Alice never learned arithmetic or literacy, and until the very end, she was nothing more than an illiterate woman who could use fire magic.

Regarding the "wisdom" mentioned by the Dragon God, Alice seems to have learned to connect with others only through the combined guidance of dramatic changes in her life and the original male protagonist's teachings.

When it comes to communication, Alice still only knows how to use swords.

Changing a person is very difficult; it requires a huge investment of time and patience.

To truly help Alice break free from her violent patterns, it may require more than just "stopping the behavior and starting communication."

What's likely needed is patience, again and again, countless times.

What's needed is to remain calm and stand there after each of her outbursts.

What is needed is an almost unconditional presence that does not withdraw because of her violence.

Rudius instinctively connected this to everything Paul had done.

The man was clumsy, impulsive, and prone to making mistakes, but he never truly left.

Rudius asked himself, he simply couldn't do that with a child he disliked.

This is not Rudius's responsibility.

Rudius has no obligation to be that person.

However, after witnessing Silphi's suffering, one should reconsider this issue.

Rudeus felt a strange sensation toward Alice, a dull ache of "seeing but not being able to connect."

This isn't because he did anything wrong, just like Rudeus still doesn't think he did anything wrong regarding Sylphie's situation.

It's not because of that feeling, but because you're standing there, the door is open, and she's still in the dark.

This kind of pain actually begins the moment you become aware of it.

This is the suffering of others that Rudius has witnessed.

Once you realize this, look back.

Rudeus's original plan, and his self-positioning, could not even be described as Alice's teacher.

He was just a person, someone who was about to pass through Alice's life.

Because teachers have an obligation to guide students, and there is no inequality between teachers and students.

Only by treating Alice as an equal can Rudeus feel at ease believing that he is not wrong.

There is a huge emotional gap between "knowing how to do it" and "being willing to do it".

Rudius made this choice because of his aversion to violence.

What about as parents? Friends? Or lovers?

Faced with the violent Alice, how does Rudeus project these identities onto her?

Rudius said nice things, that the door to communication is always open for you.

In reality, for a child who has never seen a door, or even knows what a door is, and who only knows how to punch a wall, a quietly open door is no different from a wall.

Whether it's parents, friends, or lovers, in Rudeus's mind, they should all rush into the darkness and pull Alice out—

So, here comes the problem.

Who am I?

My identity as Alice's relative directly determines Rudeus's subsequent actions towards her.

However, this decision can be made after actually meeting Alice.

However, the more complicated things were yet to come.

If we don't act according to the original plan, things will go completely differently.

It is foreseeable that as long as Rudius rushes into the "darkness," the final outcome will be love-oriented.

Alice was also a lonely child.

She has no friends or playmates her own age.

Alice's extraordinary fighting talent makes her impossible to subdue by force.

No one could truly get close to her, and no one could be someone she could rely on.

What if there was only one person of the opposite sex your age who was kind to you in this world?

So no matter how Rudeus defines himself, as long as he is genuinely good to Alice, he will ultimately be a lover.

In addition to Alice's own opinion, there will also be external support.

To persuade Philip and Salos, Rudius must demonstrate wisdom and talent far exceeding that of his peers.

The result was predictable.

Philip and Hilda will definitely try their best to bring Rudius and Alice together.

In fact, Rudius's earnest treatment of Alice and his efforts to help her were precisely what earned him the favor of Philip and Sauros.

This will make Philip desperately try to pull Rudius onto his side.

He's smart, capable, and sentimental. He's so serious about this hopeless daughter. Philip will be grinning from ear to ear.

Because this would demonstrate to Philip the most important quality: trust.

If someone can be this serious about a "hopeless daughter," what else is there that they can't trust?

Philip's "grin was so wide open" wasn't because he had found a tool, but because he had found someone who would truly care for his daughter.

This is more precious to a father than any other benefit.

Rudius also benefited from this.

Alice's own combat strength could grow to become the pinnacle of combat power in this world.

The strength of warriors is not as significantly different as that of mages in the later stages of the game.

In the original work, Alice only obtained the title of Sword Queen in the end, but she killed the Sword God in the end.

This difference is like that kind of gap where a little bit makes a world of difference.

For example, if my sword is 0.001 seconds faster than yours, then you die.

A true sword god is someone whose will and swordsmanship are unmatched. A sword god dies because his will wavers.

Thinking from a dirty adult perspective, Alice is the best choice to be a bodyguard.

A long-term companionship will become an unshakable foundation of trust.

Rudeus's actions are akin to a cultivator constantly using their lifeblood to refine their natal magic weapon, waiting for the day it is successfully completed. Once completed, the natal magic weapon will become Rudeus's right-hand man.

Philip was not simply reaping the benefits brought by Rudius.

By establishing a relationship with Philip, one can gain access to political capital, intelligence, personnel transfers, and financial support.

Compared to the spoiled brats in the village of Buena, who you wouldn't want to raise at first glance, this is a world of difference.

At first, Rudius had considered training those unruly kids as his own core group, but he gave up on the idea due to the cost-benefit ratio.

Philip, from a superior noble family that served as the guardian of the four directions of the Kingdom of Asura.

The returns on his investment were enough to shatter Rudius's moral compass.

However, Rudius, having lived as an ordinary citizen in his previous life, instinctively felt fear towards such matters.

In his previous life, Rudius was a modern person whose core principle was to avoid disturbing others and not let others disturb his thoughts.

The thought of commanding others, having subordinates, and having others do things for him made him instinctively shrink back.

Philip would be happy to have found a son-in-law who truly cares for his daughter, just as he would be happy to have found a political ally.

These two kinds of happiness are not contradictory, but it is precisely this "non-contradiction" that leaves Rudius at a loss.

He hoped his considerations could be more straightforward.

Rudeus likens Alice to a magic weapon, so what's the difference between her and those "violent children" who he physically suppresses and confines with rules?

It's just that the "unwillingness to connect" has turned into a "carefully cultivated connection," but the ultimate goal of the connection is still "to be used by me."

Even if we only consider Alice as a woman, she is a top-notch woman in terms of both looks and figure.

This fact doesn't disappear just because you "don't want to think this way." In the dirty adult perspective, it's there, like a silent weight on the other side of a scale.

At this point, the situation changed again.

By treating Alice as a passerby, Rudius could proceed with his original plan, attributing all the credit for the incident to Philip, and then gracefully retreat back into his modern persona of "neither bothering others nor being bothered by others."

The price is the dull ache of "seeing Alice but being unable to connect" with her.

Helping Alice seems to have many benefits: it relieves her dull pain, and she gains intelligence, personnel, funds, and a beautiful woman.

However, Rudius has to fight for all of this, and there's no guarantee he'll get it.

Conversely, as long as you strive for it, that carefree and refreshing feeling will disappear.

In Rudius's view, potential gains are not the real benefits; the costs incurred are the true weights on the scales.

Clearly, the first option comes at a much lower cost.

Rudius hesitated slightly—was it really that light?

This question arose from nowhere, like a fine thorn, piercing the cracks of reason.

The weight of dull pain: Is it really lighter than "heavy"?

You judge the cost of the first path to be "light".

But here's a subtle question: does dull pain change over time?

If you retreat into your shell, can you really return to a state of "not disturbing others and not being disturbed by others"?

You witnessed Alice's suffering.

To Alice, the door was just a wall.

If she sees that no one rushes in, Alice will continue to punch the wall until a major change in her life forces her into another fate (or not into one).

This "seeing" will not disappear just because you turn away.

It will remain in your memory, becoming a scene that suddenly appears in the dead of night, becoming a thought of "what if" at a certain moment.

This dull pain is not a one-time wound, but a hidden injury that may slowly deepen.

The "weight" of the second path, though heavy, can be shared.

Alice will grow up, Philip will become an ally, and those "subordinates" who were once feared will become real, flesh-and-blood people.

Weight can become a habit, or even a support, over time.

Isn't that right?

For some reason, Rudeus thought of Senis's gaze.

I thought of that face, which seemed like something out of a dream.

I'm reminded of that line, "Thank you for being my child."

Rudius was like a snail sitting on a train, unable to bear the wind, and was about to retreat into his shell when he saw the oncoming train with its bright, blinding headlights.

Rudius stood there, stunned.