God’s Child Chapters 16-20
Chapter 16
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Four or five days had passed since the roar of the dredge began to echo along the banks of the Le Chaan. According to Lu’s calculations, the harvest would be five times greater for the same amount of labor. Alternately, the labor hours could be reduced to one-fifth of what they had been for the standard yield.
Which option was chosen by the garimpeiro, who were lazy by nature? They chose to harvest five times as much.
As Bob explained, “It’s almost winter. Even if we wanted to, we won’t be able to work much longer. They want to make money while they can.”
“If only everyone had that level of greed,” Chirico contemplated.
If you’re satisfied with one, and you get two, you’ll want three. When you get three, you’ll skip forward and want six or seven; that was human nature.
“I need to talk to you…” Zergio whispered in Chirico’s ear.
“Yeah?”
“Isn’t the fee for using the dredge too cheap?”
When they used the dredge, Zergio took 10% of the total from everyone to cover the cost of repairing the dredge, the rental fee for his car engine, and the cost of fuel.
“It should be enough,” Chirico stated.
Even with that 10%, Zergio’s income had risen. He had been sucking up seven percent of the harvest in the first place, only covering the cost of shabby shacks and bad food.
“Your income should already be higher.”
“Well, yes, but I thought it might be nice to get a little more.” It was enough at first, but then Zergio suddenly had an epiphany. “I’m going to Higneus. I have to take the car, so the dredge won’t be running for a couple of days. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
After telling this to the garimpeiros, he turned off power to the dredge, sent them back into the river, and disappeared. At first, they didn’t think it was a problem, but they were shocked at how cold the river now was and how hard the work became. Everyone wailed, realizing how the past few days had changed them. They knew they could never go back to their old ways now. The harvest was even more drastically reduced.
Two days later, Zergio returned from Higneus as expected and told them, “The car dealer in Higneus said my car’s engine can’t take the load of the dredge any more. If it continues like this, it will completely break down.”
He shrugged his shoulders deliberately. The garimpeiros didn’t understand what he meant.
“Are you saying you won’t lend us your car?”
“You mean you don’t want us to use the dredge?”
“Are you saying you’re gonna raise the fees?”
The crowd was buzzing.
“It’s starting,” Chirico thought to himself. “He can’t just let his car get destroyed here at Le Chaan. It’s a matter of life and death.”
It was true that they couldn’t make do without a car in this place where winter was approaching. It was logic everyone could understand.
“That’s why we can’t use the car.”
A murmur of discontent and anxiety spread from mouth to mouth. Zergio saw right through it.
“You guys will have a hard time without the dredge now. I know that. But…” he broke off, pausing for dramatic effect. “Don’t worry, I bought a dredge engine from Higneus. It’s a great deal, and it’s going to double our efficiency. Everyone will make money, so I’ll make money too.”
Everyone knew that if a man like Zergio reassured them, none of them would feel reassured. It went quiet and Zergio looked around at their faces. This is where the real story began.
“Well, I had to spend a little bit of money. I’m sorry to say this, but I’m gonna have to ask you all to bear the cost. In other words, I’m going to have to raise the usage fee. Just a little bit.”
“What do you mean by just a little bit?”
As soon as someone tried to question him about the details, the dredge started up with a furious engine noise. Zuobo stood beside it as Zergio urged everyone on.
“Come on, let’s get to work!”
The fee had not been specified, was not clearly indicated, and remained unsettled. Despite all this, Chirico, Lu, and Bob’s daily life remained the same.
“Chirico, this kid is amazing. I can say he’s a genius. If he continues like this, he may really solve one or two of the ‘unsolved problems’ in mathematics.”
Chirico had no idea how important that would be. His only response was a vague, “Is that so?”
“A math problem is something expressed purely in numbers, but it also describes the state of the world. What’s great about this kid is the angle of his approach to the problems. It’s completely different from mine. He has a unique direction. That’s what’s great.”
Bob’s words aroused a certain uneasiness in Chirico, but he kept silent.
Eventually, flurries of white appeared in the morning and evening breezes, and Zergio announced, “Tomorrow, we will leave Le Chaan. A pickup unit will come for you. If you’re late, you’ll be urgun food. The pickup will come with money, so that’s when we’ll settle the bill.”
“Is Higneus where the pickup goes?” Chirico asked.
“That’s right. From there you can do whatever you want.”
The next day, the pick-up party arrived in formation. At the front was a general-purpose military high-mobility vehicle, and behind it was a large white commercial van, clearly a civilian vehicle. Behind that were three covered military trucks, and at the tail end was a tow truck with an Armored Trooper on board.
(This convoy…) Chirico imagined what was going to happen.
Normally, three covered trucks would be used to transport garimpeiros, the white van would be used to transport the contractor’s jijirium, and the high-mobility vehicle and A.T. would be used to escort the convoy. It was inevitable that the jijirium and the money that paid for it would be a target for bandits. But…
“What the hell is this?”
The commotion that began with a sudden angry voice explained everything. Each of the garimpeiros was furious at the bill of accounts they’d just been handed.
“This is what you’re paying for six months of sweat?”
“Screw you!”
Two or three of the garimpeiros rushed at Zergio and were knocked away by Zuobo.
Zergio tried to answer calmly. “Take a look at your balance sheet. The beds, the meals, and the dredge fee that made your labor so light, that’s what you get if you subtract those things.”
“You said the dredge fee is a tenth of the harvest!”
“Well, ask those two guys over there.”
Zergio cocked his chin in the direction of Chirico and Bob. Chirico looked at his own account statement.
“Our dredge fee is one-tenth. We haven’t taken any more than that. Zergio, yours is seven times higher.”
“That’s the way it’s been since we didn’t have dredge here,” Zergio said. “Besides, that engine was expensive.”
“That’s enough!”
A bullet ricocheted over a garimpeiro’s head as he moved to strike Zergio.
“Quiet down! If you don’t, I’ll shoot you right here and now.”
A non-commissioned officer who seemed to be in charge stepped forward, pushing past the soldier who fired the warning shot.
“Anyone who is dissatisfied stays here, and we will not take you.”
There was no response. Zergio and the army were connected. An unarmed garimpeiro was no match for them.
“You!” It was Lu’s voice.
(Oh, no!)
There was no time to stop him. The officer was momentarily puzzled by Lu’s youthfulness as he advanced. Not a shred of fear escaped from any part of Lu’s body.
“I want to hear your answer.”
The officer flinched at Lu’s direct gaze.
“You want an answer?”
“Yes, the answer. Tell me.”
Lu held up the account book with both hands in front of the officer. “Is this legitimate?”
“Legitimate!?”
Lu’s question was so straightforward that he couldn’t find an answer.
“From the look on your face, I don’t think it’s legitimate.” Lu pointed out exactly what was going on in the officer’s mind.
“Well, I don’t know if it’s legitimate or not.”
“You don’t? Then let me explain it. Bob?”
Bob handed him a notebook and a pen.
“Look at it carefully.”
Lu wrote large, easy-to-understand numbers one after another on the blank page, explaining each one of them.
“So, it looks like this. This is the total amount of work put in from sunrise to sunset. This is what you get when you subtract the cost of bed, food, and the dredge from that work.”
The numbers he showed were irrefutable.
“Is this legitimate?”
The officer was at a loss for words when he saw the numbers.
“Well, that’s…”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Zergio stepped in front of Lu to take his place. “Give me that!”
He took the notebook and pen from Lu’s hand, and began to scribble his own figures.
“When you add up room, board, dredge, and fuel, this is what you get!”
“It’s too expensive,” Lu said, taking the notebook back and writing a new number next to Zergio’s.
“This is correct.”
“Correct? Who decided that?”
“Don’t take too much. Gudorn said so.”
“Gudorn?” Zergio was puzzled by the sudden mention of Gudorn’s name.
“Those who need something should take as much as they need,” he stammered. “I need as much as I say I need! Who’s against it?” As Zergio spoke, he saw Zuobo slither forward.
“Everyone has their own needs.” Lu’s words were met with a chorus of approval from the garimpeiros.
“Yeah! That’s right! Stop ripping us off! Give us what we worked for!”
Zuobo’s huge body lunged at Lu. “You little runt!” Lu ducked under Zuobo’s log-like arms as they tried to grab him.
“Chirico!” Bob called out to Chirico for help. Chirico was nowhere to be seen.
“Zuobo, break an arm or two!” Zergio commanded.
“Oh, yeah!” Zuobo howled like a gratsua. Normally, the ruckus would have ended there. Zuobo was an expert in this field. It took two, then three garimpeiros to hold him back.
“Little punk!”
The young man’s body could not be touched. The garimpeiros, who had previously been suppressed by Zuobo’s violence, got excited and swarmed toward him.
“Do it! Do it! Smack that bear down!”
The difference in physical ability was insurmountable. Zuobo ducked a big punch, lost his balance, and staggered back, only to tumble to the ground. The crowd cheered,
“You’re worthless!”
Zergio decided it was over. “Captain, you’re up!”
The captain signaled to the armed men. A squad got between the garimpeiros and Zergio, automatic rifles at the ready.
“I told you! This operation has a military approval! Anybody who has a complaint, come forward and you’ll get a special bonus from us!”
That was the end of the matter.
“Heh heh, that’s a sweet deal.” Something unusual was happening behind Zergio’s triumphant grin. At the tail end of the convoy, on top of the A.T.’s tow truck, the pilot who had been standing by collapsed without a word. An orange shadow slid into the open cockpit. Suddenly, it rose to its feet with a low, light, but beastly growl.
“Lu, young man, step forward!” Zergio ordered.
Out of the crowd of garimpeiros, Lu took a step forward, then two, then three.
“Heh, you’ve got some nerve. Say it again, huh? You have a problem with the payment?”
Lu’s expression stayed firm.
“It’s not legitimate.”
“You’re so naive! There are lessons to be learned in this world.”
The soldiers’ guns rose. With a start, the garimpeiros behind Lu broke and fled to the left and right.
“You’re dead!”
The sound of gunshots mixed with the ferocious sound of running.
A flash and a shudder…
Then, after a thin plume of gunpowder smoke dissolved into the atmosphere, no one knew reason, only a single fact. Between the soldier’s guns and Lu stood a man-shaped mass of iron, the A.T.
Chapter 17
See the original post here
Zergio looked at the soldiers and the suddenly-appeared A.T., fumbling to make sense of the situation.
“What the hell is going on!?”
The A.T.’s GAT-22-C heavy machine gun was slowly raised horizontally. A voice came over the mic.
“Re-calculate the bill.”
Lu appeared from behind A.T.’s legs. In his hand was the notebook.
“You gotta be kidding me! What is this!?” Zergio looked at the officer, then at the men, then at Lu, then up at the A.T.
“Lu. Include the cost of military security to Higneus in the reimbursement. Make sure everything is done right.”
Lu nodded at the voice from A.T.
“What are you talking about? That payment was settled a long time ago. Captain!!” Zergio called to the officer for help, but the man shook his head.
“Hurry up and start over!”
The infantrymen’s automatic rifles were no match for the A.T.’s heavy machine gun. The garimpeiros cheered. The settlement of accounts was swift. It was a kind of gunboat diplomacy, if you will. Power was on the side of Lu and the garimpeiros with the A.T., and the military’s presence was better than going through Zergio. That was why things went smoothly.
The problem was the two-day trip to Higneus. What would happen during that time? Zergio could turn, or the army could change its mind.
“I’m staying in here.” The problem was solved by Chirico’s decision to stay in A.T.’s cockpit. A few days in there was nothing compared to what he had experienced in “that unit.”
With overwhelming force behind them, the number of garimpeiros was a considerable factor. Zergio’s scheming and Zuobo’s violence could be contained. The military agreed to a peaceful parting of the ways once they entered Higneus. The officer in charge was fully aware of this.
Two days later, they entered Higneus, and decided to break up at the Pafron Roundabout in the center of town. The white van carrying the jijirium drove off, and the garimpeiros and the others dispersed. Zergio and Zuobo disappeared regretfully, and Lu and Bob left in the opposite direction.
Chirico told the remaining troops, “I’ll go down that street two blocks, turn left, and get out of the A.T. You can come after me if you want, but I’d rather you leave me alone.”
He stepped down off the tow truck and suddenly engaged the roller dash. As promised, he turned left at the end of the second block.
“Amazing,” the officer muttered to himself. He had no intention of pursuit. As long as A.T. was returned, he would take no losses. The jijirium yield was higher than Zergio had provided in previous years. There was no need to make things public and cause unnecessary problems.
Chirico abandoned the A.T. and moved aimlessly around the city, as if lost. He arrived at the planned location, a run-down hotel that could be called a flophouse. As promised, the first floor had a bar with a stale atmosphere. On the right side of the entrance, there was a counter that looked more like a ledger than a desk.
(Gudorn was right.)
He did as he was instructed, and listened. Then approached the clerk, an old man who looked like an oil drum with a face.
“Are my companions here?”
“Yes, they’re in the room.”
The old man pointed his chin upstairs and gave Chirico the room number. The hotel was three stories high, but the room was on the second floor, at the far end of a six-room hallway. Chirico stood in front of the room and tapped on the wooden door.
“Who is it?” Lu’s voice came from inside.
“Pigaigul.”
When he answered, the wooden door opened. Lu and Bob had been working on an equation, but Chirico’s arrival shifted their attention.
“What do we do now?” Bob asked.
After a moment’s thought, Chirico said, “Bob, let me make something clear. We’re being pursued. I think the military is after us, but it’s not just them. As to why…don’t ask me now, you’ll find out eventually.”
“I kind of figured that was the case.”
“So, if you stay with us, you’re in the same boat.”
“That’s all right. I’m happy enough with what I’m doing right now.”
Bob looked down at his notebook, which was open between him and Lu.
“I want to stay with Lu, too.”
Lu agreed.
“All right, the three of us stick together. Gudorn said this place would be as safe as a paorun, but we need to know what Higneus is like. Let’s split up.”
Chirico’s suggestion was to listen to the voices on the street.
“Don’t ask questions. Don’t ask anything. Just listen. That way…”
There was no need to stand out. That was Chirico’s thinking. Past experience had taught him that standing out in a new and unfamiliar place was a dangerous thing to do. The three of them dispersed into the city. Eventually, they each brought back interesting information. Lu had walked around and grasped the space until he was able to draw a map of the city.
“I’ve seen all of Higneus. Where the streets are, where the rivers are, how many bridges there are, where the people are, where it’s empty, everything.”
Bob’s information was like barbershop politics.
“The population of this town is about 100,000. Higneus’ finances are tight. The city is split in two. It used to be a suburb of Uzanloc, but now neighboring Leerhook is meddling with it. Some are talking about independence, but they’re in the minority. The legislature has stopped and there’s a political vacuum. The city’s in shambles.”
Chirico’s information inevitably reeked of fire and smoke.
“The power structure here is split between the Uzanloc frontier garrison and the Higneus police force. In addition, there’s the Mafia, which was formed during the gold rush, but they have strong ties with the police and are considered family. There are two Battling arenas in Higneus. The military and police each manage one, and they compete with each other.”
The combined information of all three made Higneus seem like the perfect place for someone with a reason to hide.
“I want to hear from you, Chirico.” Lu looked straight at him.
“What is it?”
“You settled the payment at Le Chaan.”
“That’s right.”
“I have doubts. Was it legitimate?”
Bob seemed interested in what Lu had to say.
“Well…” Chirico had made the final decision on the settlement. Remembering that, he answered, “That was…fine.”
“Zergio, the military, and everyone else wasn’t really happy with it, yet everyone accepted it. Why? Because it was legitimate?”
Chirico hesitated to answer. “It was…” At that moment, Zergio’s desires, the military’s demands, the garimpeiros hopes, all their thoughts and feelings, were in conflict. The A.T.’s armor and a heavy machine gun had settled the matter. “It was fine, Lu. You’ll understand later.”
Chirico knew it was not an answer to Lu’s question, but that was all he could say. Lu had heard Chirico answer, “You’ll see,” several times before.
“I see…” Lu dropped the question.
Chapter 18
See the original post here
The inn-like hotel Gudorn had told them about was a perfect hideaway. For a while, peace and quiet prevailed. Lu and Bob spent whole days in their room, tirelessly wrestling with mathematical formulas. Chirico’s feet naturally took him to the Battling arenas. Of course, he did not want to participate. He had a more secular purpose; he needed money.
The money they got from the jijirium harvest at Le Chaan was enough to get them through the winter. During that time, there were few means of making money in Higneus.
When Chirico came to the arena, he was struck with an inexpressible feeling of nostalgia. The shady people hanging out in front of the venue, the salty voices calling out, and the ferocious clashes of metal on metal erupting from inside. He thought he could hear the voices of Goto, Vanilla, and Coconna in the midst of this.
“I knew you’d come, Chirico!
“Chirico-chaaaan!”
“Chiricoooo!”
When he entered, he smelled oil, gunpowder, Polymer Ringer liquid, liquor, cigarettes, and the funk of people. Even the stuffy air shook his mind and body. People’s hands were clutching and waving express tickets to their dreams. Most of them were destined to be scattered in the air, to fall to the ground and be trampled by muddy shoes after a few seconds or minutes.
Chirico could hear Goto’s voice in the back of his mind.
“Gambling, after all, is designed to make money for the house. If you’re the one who puts up the bet, you’ll be stripped naked.”
(I know, I know what I’m doing.)
Chirico decided to play the “ken” game, as they say in the iron ring. “Ken” meant not to participate in the betting, but just to watch.
“Pigaigul.”
He banged on the wooden door and spoke the password.
“Where have you been?” Lu asked as Bob continued tirelessly wrestling with the equations.
“I was watching Battling. Today I went to the arena run by the military.”
“Did you bet?” Bob sounded surprised.
“No.”
“Oh yeah, you’re an expert.” Bob let out a sigh of regret as he remembered his past mistakes, but then he asked, “Are you going to?”
“No.”
“Then why?” Bob sounded even more surprised, his face filled with concern.
“It’s the same thing you guys are doing.” Chirico gestured toward the formulae in Bob’s notebook.
“Oh?” Bob sounded puzzled, but refrained from asking any more questions.
The next day, Chirico went to an arena again. This time, the one run by the local police. Interestingly, the two venues had different atmospheres and different types of customers. Then there was the appearance of their respective A.T.s. The main A.T. of the military arena was an actual battlefield-spec type that could be loaded with live ammunition, whereas the A.T. of the police arena was equipped with flashy special weapons, strongly oriented toward entertainment. If compared to wrestling, the military was amateur wrestling and the police were professional wrestling. The fan base also seemed to be divided into different groups.
“Are there any exchange battles between the two arenas?” Chirico asked the customers around him.
“Not usually. But there’s a summit battle once a year.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“I hate it. Have you seen Real Battle?”
“Real Battle?”
“Yeah, with live bullets flying around.”
“That’s nonsense! I don’t know about the summit, but enough lives have been lost in war.”
“I guess so.”
The man Chirico had questioned sneered at his orange pilot suit and spat. Chirico turned and left.
“Don’t talk too long in the same place,” he had told Lu and Bob.
At another location, the exchange continued.
“Do they ever have Real Battle here or there?
“There’s a decisive battle at the summit. It’s a real fight with live ammunition, and the military and the police are involved.”
“That sounds interesting.”
Chirico cut the conversation short and moved on to a couple of other places to learn more. One of them was a bar where Battling players gathered. It seemed to be a place where most of them exchanged gossip about their careers in this shady world. Sometimes drinking would erupt into fights.
(I’ll have to check it out sometime.)
This was how Chirico’s visits to the Battling world continued. Nearly two months passed since the three of them arrived in Higneus. On the surface, their daily life was not very different. Chirico continued to go to the arenas, but he would just watch the games and return home. This basic pattern remained unchanged.
However, Lu and Bob were different. Chirico constantly harangued them to sleep and eat. The two of them had not eaten, drunk, or slept for weeks. They wrote and erased, erased and added, and were absorbed in a struggle with the mathematical formulae that filled their notebooks.
Then one day, “Chirico, I need to talk to you.” Bob looked dazed and weak, as if he had lost control of his mind and body.
“What is it?”
A light flashed behind his eyes, as if to dispel his haze.
“This is amazing…”
His voice sounded as if it were squeezed from every part of his gut.
“Me and Lu…no, Lu and I are working out the Quent 3,000 year prediction. It’s already ninety-nine percent complete. All we have to do is finish the paper that goes with the proof formulae, and we’ll be all set.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chirico replied flatly.
Bob was breathless.
“Lu, what’s Bob talking about?”
“One of the unresolved problems has been solved.”
“And is it actually amazing?”
“Lu doesn’t know if it’s amazing or not,” Bob said, catching his breath. “But it was interesting and difficult. Chirico, how many civilized planets do you think there are in the Astragius galaxy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I. But we’ve solved a 3,000-year-old problem that no mathematician in either Gilgameth or Balarant has ever solved.”
“Amazing.”
Bob snapped at Chirico’s inarticulate reply. “It’s not just amazing! It’s astonishing! It’s something that will change the very foundation of the world!” He squirmed, wondering if Chirico could understand this.
“Is that so?”
Chirico looked at Lu again. Lu casually shook his head. He himself did not share Bob’s estimation of the matter. Bob collapsed to the floor, wailing.
“Are you okay, Bob?”
Bob did not answer Chirico’s question, but peeled his stiff body off the floor and sat up, trembling.
“This achievement will probably be buried, unrecognized and forgotten.”
Bob’s body shook with frustration.
“What do you mean? Explain it to me clearly.”
“Listen, this is truly an amazing thing academically.”
“I understand. Go beyond that.”
“Okay, well, I don’t know how to describe it…” Bob was frustrated that he understood and others did not.
“In the world of academia, there’s a thing called shikitari. I have to get the authorities of this world to acknowledge that I’ve solved this problem.”
“If it’s the right answer, I’m sure they’ll accept it.”
“It’s not going to just be like, ‘Oh, well done, then’.”
“Is that so?”
“That’s right!” Chirico and Lu had no choice but to listen in silence. “You see, in the academic world, there are usually societies that are affiliated with a particular field of study. First of all, when you have some research results, you have to present them to an academic society. The members of that society come together to judge it.”
“So this time it’s something about Quent that you two solved.”
“Quent’s 3,000-year prediction! In academia, this is apparently real. When you’re sure your conclusion is authentic, your results are reviewed by a higher authority. Dozens or hundreds of authorities in the field are involved in this process, and they scrutinize the results even further. Only when they know for sure that it’s a solid answer, they’ll officially recognize whose work it is and announce it.”
“It seems reasonable to me.”
“It is! It’s so obvious, I can’t even cry.”
“Then what’s the problem with it?”
At this point, Bob’s head drooped.
“What’s the matter, Bob?”
“I’m…an outcast. I’m not a member of an academic society. I was exiled by academia, banished for gambling and wrongdoing. No one will take me seriously now.
All my research, all my achievements…I never thought I’d be able to prove the Quent prediction. And yet..”
Bob turned his exhausted face to Lu.
“Lu, I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”
He couldn’t say any more. Lu was taken aback.
“It was fun…it was interesting,” he said to Bob encouragingly.
“Okay,” Chirico said as he got up. He left the room and brought back a bottle of liquor from the bar downstairs.
“A Koba Gallacci,” he said. “It’s the real thing.”
He filled three cups to the brim with Gallacci.
“Drink and sleep. I’m sure you’ll have a nice dream.”
As if in celebration, he raised his cup a little and took a gulp. The alcohol burned his throat, esophagus, and stomach. Lu and Bob, who were watching, followed suit. Both of them puffed out their cheeks, narrowly avoiding the liquor spilling out of their mouths. Lu, of course, was not a strong drinker, nor was Bob.
“Gulp it down, fill up your stomach!”
Chirico was not a strong drinker, either. After a few minutes, the three of them fell asleep like ancient fish that had been caught.
Chapter 19
See the original post here
Lu and Bob slept for three days and three nights. When they woke up, Bob looked as if he had barely made it back to the real world.
“What are we going to do about this?” he muttered, referring to the Quent 3,000 year prediction.
“We’re almost there,” Lu said, picking up the notebook. “Let’s finish it.”
“Just finish it up…” Bob’s eyes were vacant. Even if it was completed, there was no way to present it. Bob looked at Lu, who was already working on the equation.
(He is purely engaged with mathematics. Compared to him…)
Bob resented his past, which had seeped back into his mind. He had no energy. He could see the completion of the equations, and he had finished a supplementary paper.
(But who will even read it?)
He pondered the thick walls of the world he had left behind.
“Isn’t there a bypass?” Chirico called out.
“What’s a bypass?”
“Another path to the goal.”
“Another path?”
“Even if you can’t go back to the old world, is there any other way to get this society to see and accept what you’ve done?”
“Another way…?” Bob thought about it and shook his head. “It’s not like there aren’t any, but it’s impossible.”
“What kind of moves do you have?”
“What kind of move…” Bob stammered, at a loss. “I can’t do it. It’s impossible right now.”
“Tell me, what’s your move?”
“It’s not complicated. In this world, this is the main path. It takes money. It costs money. The finished equations and papers are presented to a recognized authority in mathematics. They’re sent to schools, research institutes, and famous researchers. If they come out of the blue from some unknown source, no one will bother reading or verifying them. So we offer a gratuity. That’s what it’s all about.”
“A fee for reading?”
“It’s not a meager amount. If I send this to all the authorities in Astragius at once, I need enough money to make them feel like they have to read it, whether they want to or not.”
“I see.”
“There have been other cases in the past, but most had a sponsor. Joint beneficiaries. Even that doesn’t necessarily mean it will be recognized.”
Chirico thought for a moment. “And what happens if it does?”
“My name will go down in history.”
“In history?”
“I’ll be instantly famous.”
“Lu, too?”
“Of course. If anything, Lu will be the center of public attention.”
“Hmm.” Chirico looked at him thoughtfully. “So, without money, it doesn’t matter if the equation is complete or the paper is finished.”
Bob slumped in despair.
Chirico’s visits to the Battling arenas continued. Bob, who had been feeling down, was dragged along by Lu to confront the thesis.
“Bob, come with me,” Chirico said one day. He took Bob to an arena.
“This is a sin for me.” Bob let out a sigh as he smelled the iron firepit where he had once drowned.
“Remember what I predict from here on.”
Chirico predicted all the matches from their first moves and made sure Bob memorized them. The next day, the same thing happened at a different arena.
“That’s amazing, Chirico!” Bob exclaimed in wonder at the results. Chirico’s predictions had been right on target more than 90% of the time.
Back at the inn, Bob could hardly contain his excitement. He said, “You can do more than make a living betting on Battling, you can make a fortune!”
“Bob, listen to me.”
“What?”
“I was an A.T. pilot. If you look at the fight, you can predict most of it intuitively. But it’s just a hunch. It’s not always right.”
“But you’re off only ten percent of the time.”
“It’s never a sure thing. There are no absolutes in betting.”
“That’s the point,” Bob explained. “There are no absolutes, but you can get close. Maybe the reason for the 10% error margin is that you’re relying on intuition. You can’t crack the remaining 10% on intuition alone. So let’s quantify the basis of your intuition. It should be less of a blur.”
“The basis of my intuition?”
“It’s an objective quantification of the checkpoints you run unconsciously.”
“Hmm…”
“You can do it, can’t you?”
Chirico’s eyes were serious. “I guess I’m a mathematician too. Let’s give it a try.”
However, Bob was less than confident. He honestly thought Chirico’s method was little better than the strategy of tipsters who raised their salty voices in a Battling arena. But it exceeded his expectations.
(All this in an instant!?)
The age of the machine, the power output, the type of armament, the weight of the armor, the highs and lows of the Muscle Cylinder sound, right-handed or left-handed, straight-line speed and rotational speed of the roller dash, whether the pilot preferred a firefight or hand to hand, etc., etc., etc. Even the amount and location of damage to the armor plates were included in Chirico’s checkpoints. The number given to each checkpoint varied slightly from day to day and from venue to venue.
“Chirico, the values you just mentioned are different from what you said the other day.”
“The weight of each checkpoint is different each time.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch. It’s only natural that the superiority of the machine and the skill of the rider will affect the result. But on top of that, there’s the player’s way of thinking about the match. There are those who always aim to win, then there are those who aim for a win rate between 50% and 60%…those guys see Battling as a business, a way to make money. They get decent scores and try to stay on track for a long time without rising in the ranks.”
Chirico’s mind was already going through the 50-odd Battling players in Higneus in detail.
“If these were quantified and made subjective, the accuracy rate should be even higher.”
Bob was speechless with surprise. “Chirico, why are you here?”
“I need money. I make a prediction for what will happen, and build up my capital by playing two or three games. The battle between the military and the police will be decisive. It’ll bring in a lot of money.”
“What are you going to do with that money?”
“We’ll distribute the formulae and the papers all over Astragius.”
Again, Bob was struck speechless.
Chapter 20
See the original post here
Chirico finally understood why Bob had descended from his former position to this frontier.
“Lu, you finish your formulae and papers. I have a new thing to do with Chirico.”
With that, Bob began to work on his Battling strategy. There was not a trace of bitterness on his face, just immersion, joy, and delight.
“Chirico, can you quantify this, that, and the other points a little more precisely? This is definitely not enough in terms of presenting the sponsored data. Checking this wouldn’t be required unless you were a party to it. We need to go a little further here, too. Hey, are you listening to me, Chirico?”
The main Battling players had fallen, one by one.
“How long until the final showdown between the two arenas?”
“Roughly two weeks.”
“All right, we’ll have a winning formula by then! Lu, let’s race!”
(I’ve created a monster.) Chirico almost regretted it, but he stifled his words. (But I asked for it.)
Bob drew up a huge table and filled in big fields with numbers. “Chirico, here’s a table that correlates the data you got with the results.”
“What does this tell you?”
“Discriminant accuracy rates.”
“Descriminant…accuracy…”
“Hit rate. It’s the ratio of predicted results so far compared to, well, probabilities. If you look at it this way, you do indeed a roughly 90% accuracy rate. But look, here and here…this and this are open. In other words, if we fill in the data here…”
“The odds go up.” Chirico felt Bob’s gaze run over his orange pressure suit as he chattered on.
“That’s what I’m saying. But each of these items is unclear to the average person. Only those with considerable experience and a plus-alpha can fill them in. In other words, I need your help.”
For the next few days, Chirico and Bob made daily trips to the arenas. Of course, this was only for observation to fill the remaining requirements.
“Chirico, how about betting on a game?” Bob couldn’t resist. Inevitably, his gambler’s blood was rushing to his veins.
“It’s too early.”
“You’ve got to start using your practical instincts, or you’ll screw up in the real game.”
Chirico shot him a cautionary glance. “You said I’m not supposed to rely on my intuition.”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
If they loosened the reins at this point, they might be left with nothing.
“I don’t think it’s a bad idea to increase our principal a little.”
“The amount we have should be enough to win the match.” Chirico did not budge. One slip-up could be fatal for an addict. He was no stranger to this. “Bob, that’s enough for today.”
The two men got the matchup list for the next day’s games and went back to the hotel. When they returned to their room, Bob said, “Lu, why don’t you take a break and help me with this?”
“With what?”
“It’s child’s play compared with your work, but it’s a good distraction. Besides, it’s going to affect you sooner or later.”
Lu was interested. “What is it?”
“Let’s call it the Battling winners chart…”
Bob spread out a chart of about two square meters, filled with symbols and numbers.
“This is…” Bob’s explanation to Lu began. Even when Chirico listened, it didn’t make sense to him.
“This is the sample size for each group of objective variables.”
“Oh, so this is the mean and unbiased variance of each variable for the explanatory variable and the objective variable?”
“That’s why the discrepancy between the observed and predicted values is this variable…”
Listening to them, it was hard to believe they were talking about a gambling strategy. Eventually…
“Shall we try it?” said Chirico, holding up the list of the next day’s battling matchups.
“You’re going to try it?” Bob’s voice boomed and his eyes lit up.
“Bob, this isn’t gambling. You can try it without actually buying it.”
“But…it’s boring when there’s no competition.”
“It’s all about competition. Try rolling three games with your winning strategy. I’ll roll three games my way. Let’s see who wins.”
In other words, it would be a contest between Chirico’s intuition and Bob’s mathematical probability theory.
“Interesting! Okay, let’s play! Lu, you’re my chief of staff.” Snorting heavily, Bob slapped down his game predictions over the winners chart.
The next day, they left the inn together. Chirico was not comfortable with the three of them going out together, but Bob said, “Betting is all about the odds, the betting multiplier. It’s a real thing, and you never know unless you’re there.” He was breathing hard, excited. “Lu’s coming, too. He’s been confined to the room this whole time.”
Chirico could not disagree.
In the first half, neither Chirico nor Bob participated in the game. In the second half, a few anomalies appeared and the energy of the place began to swell. This battling arena was run by the police, and the game was as flashy as a wrestling match.
“Lu, isn’t this fun?” Bob asked.
“Yes, it’s fun.” Lu pointed out that the A.T.’s were equipped with weapons that looked sinister and frightening. “But the big claw on the red one’s right hand and the big machete on the blue one have nothing to do with the game.”
“I know, Lu,” Bob said adamantly. “Those things are like costumes, just for show. Don’t be fooled. Now, what shall we do?”
Chirico handed Lu a memo with his buy-in on it. “This is my reading.”
“Okay, I’ll verify it after the game is over,” Bob said. “I’m glad Lu is with us.”
Lu nodded to confirm.
“Then it’s time for the battle!” Bob turned around and charged away. There was no time to stop him. His figure quickly blended into the crowd at the betting booth.
“Bob…” There was a look of resignation in Chirico’s eyes as he watched.
On the way back to the hotel afterward, Bob was practically bursting. “You’re a pro at this, Chirico! You’re an expert at buy-in. You aim for the middle of the pack, and you never miss. You’re a safe bet, but you’re also a profitable one!”
“Bob, your team won, too. And you made three times as much as I did.” As it turned out, both Chirico’s and Bob’s predictions were correct.
Bob waved a stack of bills in front of his face. “Heh, with this much money, we should have enough for the main game. But sometimes the results are just a fluke. Let’s go back to the inn and do some verification and analysis.”
Chirico said something casual, but…
(I’m feeling a little nervous.)
He was looking into his own heart, which was full of feelings that did not match his words.
To Be Continued