Chapter 245
He was so delighted that he was willing to passionately explain his various paintings to a mere bodyguard like me, rather than a noble like himself.
According to Prezen de Se Meredith, there was a reason he managed this Exhibition Hall.
It was none other than the fact that every piece in the exhibition had been created by his own hands.
I had guessed that the paintings in the exhibition room were either all the work of a single artist, or a collection of similar paintings, and it turned out to be the former.
The unidentified artist was the noble Raver right in front of my eyes.
I had wondered what kind of artist could have produced so many works when the profession of an artist was extinct, but that question was easily resolved.
If the artist was one of the upper-level nobles rather than an ordinary person, there was no problem at all. He could paint to his heart’s content without worrying about money!
Ah, I want to be a noble too.
“What do you think of this painting? Please tell me your thoughts without hesitation.”
“Ah, yes. I don’t exactly have an eye for art, but…”
“It doesn’t have to be superior. I simply wish to hear Mr. Bodyguard’s honest impression. Anything is fine, so please just tell me.”
“Yes. If you say so… This painting is a bit abstract, but the limbs are short and chubby, and the stance as well. Is it depicting a baby Raver? But the term 'baby' isn’t usually used for a Raver… so that feels unusual. The same goes for the umbilical cord-like string attached to it.”
“That is correct. Unlike humans, most of us are born by chance, godfather. Without a period of protection in a mother’s womb, we open our eyes one moment and are suddenly dropped into the cold world. In a way, it must be our most vulnerable moment, yet the word 'baby' is not used.”
There is a human baby, but no Raver baby. Why is that? Is it because the word 'baby' itself implies an immature individual? Since our external appearances are fully grown from birth, can the expression 'immature' not be attached to us? Or is it because a baby is an inseparable concept from the existence of parents? I first had this thought three years ago, and while painting this piece - “
I was getting dizzy. I shouldn’t have shown interest in the paintings in the first place.
Did I get marked after our conversation about that 'self-portrait' piece? I didn’t know why he was leaving Young Lady Alexandra, a fellow noble, alone and only doing this to me.
Was it a feeling of, “To think there’s a visitor who recognizes the true value of my paintings!'?
At first, it felt good having a noble explain things kindly to me, but it was becoming increasingly burdensome.
I was also conscious of Team Leader Hank watching me.
The strange thing was, I thought he would be furious that I wasn’t maintaining concentration on the escort, but he wasn’t.
In fact, when our eyes met for a brief moment, he nodded at me as if telling me to keep going.
Did he think I was doing a good job keeping a potential risk factor, a Meredith Family member, tied down? In reality, it felt like the exact opposite to me…
That was when I had been suffering under Prezen de Se Meredith for quite some time.
Before I knew it, we had looked around at most of the paintings in the exhibition room. As I was looking around, wondering if it wasn’t about time to leave, Prezen Meredith spoke to me once again.
“Did you… like the exhibition?”
“Yes. Of course. It was great because there were many excellent paintings.”
That in itself was the truth.
Perhaps it was because, like a true noble, he could devote himself entirely to painting without worrying about making a living. All the paintings Prezen Meredith drew had their own distinct characteristics, yet possessed a delicacy that made even a layman like me think, “Wow, that’s well drawn.'
Judging solely by his drawing skill, I was led to suspect he was originally a Raver created as an artist android.
However, it would have been better if I could have viewed them quietly by myself…
I couldn’t bring myself to say that last part to the suspiciously kind noble artist. At my answer, Prezen Meredith asked again.
“If it is not too much of an intrusion… could you perhaps pick the one painting you liked the most out of the ones you saw here?”
It was an awkward question, to say the least… but it was obvious this persistent machine lifeform would keep prying even if I avoided answering.
Because of that, I answered right away with what came to mind without much thought.
“Rather than saying I liked it the most… there is one piece that left the strongest impression.”
“What is it?”
“'Self-portrait'.”
The reason Prezen Meredith showed interest in me was the bizarre self-portrait that was supposedly of himself, yet had a completely empty face and a tightly wrapped body, making it hard to find any trace of the artist’s appearance.
I had felt it since the first time I saw it, but it was different from the other pieces. It stood out exceptionally.
The color palette and style were one thing, but out of the entire exhibition room, this was the only self-portrait. It was also the only unfinished work.
I thought it might be a painting that held a special meaning for the Artist as well.
“I see. The self-portrait.”
I was preparing an answer in my head, assuming he would undoubtedly ask why the self-portrait left the strongest impression this time as well, but unexpectedly, he was quiet.
The Ladam Artist was deep in thought, staring at the self-portrait in the distance.
If he wasn’t going to talk to me, I was thankful. Or so I thought, but for some reason, my feet wouldn’t move.
“Why is this piece unfinished?”
A question was blurted out on impulse.
Prezen de Se Meredith remained silent for a long time before answering.
“Because it is a self-portrait.”
After a brief wait, an additional explanation was provided.
“I have not yet determined what kind of existence I am. Prezen de Se Meredith… is not a name I chose. Perhaps nothing up to this point has been achieved by my own will. I do not know myself yet. If so, wouldn’t it be better to leave at least the self-portrait as something for me to decide, rather than something already determined?”
It was hard to understand. I just figured this Raver was engaged in some philosophical contemplation.
Perhaps noticing my reaction, Prezen Meredith smiled bitterly with a rare display of emotion on his face and spoke.
“It must be difficult to empathize. That is because you are human.”
What was this? Was it species discrimination?
I had seen humans discriminate against ravers plenty of times, but this was my first time seeing the reverse.
My bewilderment was brief upon hearing a remark discriminating against humans for the first time in my life, he continued speaking.
“Humans are solved regulars. We know where humanity came from. We know that you evolved from Homo Sapiens long ago to reach where you are now. Each individual human knows his or her origins: who their parents are, who their ancestors are, and where they came from. That information, those genes, clearly remains within your bodies as double helix chemicals. There is no room for confusion.”
This means ravers were not.
“Ravers, we are an unsolvable regular. I do not even know how the first Raver was born. We are born into the world at some point without reason or cause, and we live. Where did we come from, and where are we going?”
Techno Buddhism says that the Pure Land within cyberspace awaits us. The Dusk Orthodox says that ravers and humans are fundamentally the same beings and will meet the same end. However, there is no basis for any of these claims. Every single one of us is a chicken made without an egg, a parentless orphan.”
It was a much heavier story than I had thought when I first heard it: the ontological concerns held by ravers.
Did the other ravers I had met - Kali, Mr. Rabin, the Shaolin monk, or perhaps… Bobby and Ken - also harbor these questions in their hearts?
At my flustered appearance, Prezen Meredith gently bowed his head and spoke.
“Of course, not all of us think this way; it is strictly a personal view - a labyrinth, perhaps.”
“No. It was an interesting… story.”
When I sugarcoated it like that, Prezen Meredith stared at me intently with his glass-like eyes and spoke.
“Mr. Bodyguard is a good person.”
“No, I’m just…”
“May I perhaps ask for your name?”
Who was I, a mere newcomer bodyguard, to refuse exchanging names? When I told him my name, he nodded.
“So it is Aaron Nakamura. I will remember it. I wish you luck.”
Wish me luck?
It was a slightly strange parting greeting.
* * *
“You did well at the Exhibition Hall. Your skills aren’t as terrible as I thought, at least. I assume you found something out?”
That was what Team Leader Hank said to me as soon as we left the Exhibition Hall.
I wasn’t so clueless as to ask back like an idiot, “Huh? Found something out?” here.
I hadn’t realized it while we were at the Exhibition Hall, but looking at him now, I saw that Team Leader Hank seemed to be wary of Prezen Meredith.
He probably thought I had intentionally approached him and engaged in conversation to dig up some information. Come to think of it, he wasn’t exactly wrong.
I nodded, looking as reliable as possible.
“Good. I’ll hear the report later. Now that the Young Lady says she’s going to the banquet hall, pay even closer attention. Keep in mind that a single moment of carelessness can lead to an accident.”
The banquet hall, huh.