Ch.76The Guy Writing a Thesis in Prison (3)

One week after admission. Unable to bear the sorrow of not being able to write papers, I felt the need to overturn this situation, and thus came to change my behavioral patterns.

First, it was important to gain the trust of the guards.

So in the morning, I would wake up earlier than anyone else, organize my bedding, and keep my clothes neat.

When told to run 50 laps around the yard before breakfast, I moved without complaint.

I also suppressed all the nonsense I had been spouting for fun.

And so, nearly two more weeks passed.

“Not showing any signs of madness for two weeks. The foreign god must have disappeared.”

Even the model prisoner girl in the next cell gets beaten occasionally. Only I have been freed from beatings.

Of course, contrary to the guard’s words, Descartes had not left my side.

“Prisoner number 888888. How are you feeling? Do you know who you are?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I cannot completely trust and judge my five senses. The foreign god could return at any time. So, I find it difficult to assert anything beyond the fact that I exist as someone being controlled by such a foreign god.”

“…Impressive.”

I came to learn this guard’s name.

Guard Weisel. A person who struggles with paperwork every day.

He said:

“This is completely different from when you showed madness on the first day. Who would have thought that someone who barely spoke was actually eloquent.”

“Thank you.”

“Where are you from?”

At that question, I just smiled slightly without answering.

It was forbidden for prisoners and guards to have personal conversations.

“You remember the rules well.”

And the next day came.

Guard Weisel must have been unable to resist and looked through my files.

“Eidel von Rheinland, seventeen years old. Top admission to Stellarium Academia.”

He recited my personal information with admiration.

“Well, turns out you’re a prodigy.”

With this reaction, I was halfway there.

Don’t rush, wait slowly until they take the bait.

For the remaining four days of that week, I lived while politely greeting Guard Weisel.

And around the beginning of the fifth week, I got a bite.

“Not showing madness for nearly 4 weeks is unusual. You might even get out within three months.”

“Thank you. But I think it’s better not to leave until it’s certain.”

“Oh ho.”

Guard Weisel fell silent for a while after that exclamation.

“What’s your hobby, by the way?”

“Reading.”

“Reading! I see. What do you like to read?”

“I don’t discriminate by type, but I especially like mathematics and science.”

“Mathematics and science. Are you also good at writing?”

“I’m not sure about that. I could show you if I had paper and a pen.”

“Come over here for a moment.”

Guard Weisel took me to the computer room.

A desk cluttered with piles of documents, a paper cup with clear coffee stains, dusty triple monitors.

I could immediately understand his lifestyle. And his workload too.

He opened a notepad and handed me a Bluetooth keyboard.

“You know how to type, right?”

“Of course.”

“Write something, anything you like.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Anything.”

Guard Weisel advised me to pull the chair forward. I looked at the monitor and fell into thought.

What does this person need right now?

– He needs to submit reports.

I understood enough. I suppressed the laughter that was about to burst out and started typing on the keyboard.

What I typed was none other than a diary.

More precisely, it was a report in the form of a diary.

When someone started showing madness. How the madness manifested, what triggered it. How it was suppressed. What is expected to happen next.

I concisely wrote down things that the guard would normally have to write and submit to his superiors.

Like writing an autobiographical novel, without any hesitation.

My typing speed was also high. Almost at the level of a stenographer. Actually, I could type faster, but I restrained myself because that might raise suspicions about whether I was a flesh vessel.

Had I been typing for about 30 minutes?

“Student.”

The guard’s way of addressing me had already changed.

***

“Sob, sniff.”

Today began in a somewhat gloomy atmosphere.

As soon as I woke up, I heard crying from the next cell.

[Prisoner number 888887, emotional excess at 5:41 AM. Inexplicable sobbing.]

I jotted that down in my notebook and opened the iron bars. I stuffed the key in my pocket and headed to the computer room.

“Sir, haven’t you slept?”

“Huh? Yeah.”

“Take a rest. I’ll organize the room.”

Week 6 of admission. I had gained a small amount of power in this prison.

I had changed to fluffy blankets and received about three notebooks. One was for records, and the other two I was using as research notebooks.

[— The God of Wisdom and Curiosity is interested in your research notes.]

The reason I can walk around like this is simple.

The people who come here were originally ordinary and good citizens. (Cases where they committed crimes before being possessed by foreign gods are few enough to count on one hand.)

What the guards control is madness, not people. If someone doesn’t show madness for a long period, they gradually give more freedom while monitoring their behavior.

As soon as I arrived, I organized documents and brewed coffee. I immediately sat at the monitor and started working.

I closely observed the conditions of tens of thousands of people.

If I saw someone going crazy, I sounded the alarm without hesitation.

If anything unusual occurred, I drafted a report and saved it.

While I worked, Guard Weisel got some sleep.

[— The God of Wisdom and Curiosity is struggling.]

Planet Alcatraz has a high Aether density, making it unsuitable for foreign gods to stay for long.

According to Guard Weisel, foreign gods usually abandon their vessels and leave around the third week.

Descartes was doing well to hold out until the sixth week.

[“I’m reaching my limit. Unless I bring my true body, incarnating in flesh might not last beyond two months.”]

So you’re leaving me?

[“…I can’t do that. Things are just starting to get interesting.”]

Ding, ding, ding.

It was mealtime. I got up from writing documents and woke up the guard.

“Sir, it’s lunchtime.”

“Mmm, is it already that time?”

Guard Weisel sat up unsteadily. After a long yawn, he checked my work.

“Still unbelievable skill.”

He stroked his chin and smiled.

“Student. Honestly, you’ve exceeded my expectations. I’d feel bad if I didn’t give you some reward.”

Finally, here it comes.

Actually, there’s a lot I want, but a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Let me start with the easiest request.

“I would like to be able to view letters or emails sent to me.”

The answer came quickly.

“That much is fine.”

***

“Terence, good news!”

Early morning. Feynman jumped into his friend Terence’s office like an excited child.

“What is it?”

“I can send emails to student Eidel!”

Terence clicked his tongue.

Over the past few weeks, Feynman had appealed to the scientific community to get Eidel out of Alcatraz.

‘Look at these. These are papers I wrote with my student!’

The response itself was explosive.

The new theory, named the <Feynman-Rheinland Model>, caused a huge wave in the particle physics community.

It was because it most perfectly described the gravity-aether unification theory that had remained unsolved until then.

But that was it.

While the physics community began to recognize the name Eidel von Rheinland, it was minimal in other fields.

It’s just one theory.

Scientific theories traditionally gain public attention when they make money. The paper published by Eidel and Feynman lacked appeal in that respect.

Thinking this wouldn’t do, Professor Feynman had sent an email appealing to Alcatraz Prison.

Asking to at least allow a visit.

The response was simple.

[Foreign gods can interfere during communication. People with madness are not allowed to communicate with outsiders according to the rules.]

Rejected.

But today, that restriction had been lifted.

Specifically, just for Eidel.

“It seems his madness is being cured. That’s good news.”

Terence wasn’t really enthusiastic but showed empathy for Feynman.

“This is no time to waste. I need to write an email to student Eidel quickly.”

“What are you going to write?”

“I’ll start by asking how he’s doing.”

Feynman attached follow-up research papers that had been published in the meantime and sent them to the Alcatraz prison email. His typing didn’t stop for a while.

Meanwhile, two more girls received the same news.

They were Rustila and Zernya.

***

The next day, I received four emails.

I read the one from Sonia first.

[Miss Seti has been transferred to the Holy Spirit Center for treatment. Your father and mother have also been informed of this situation. Please do not worry too much, young master.]

It was written in a stiff style, as expected of someone mechanical.

The next email was from Rustila.

As soon as I entered the email window, I was overwhelmed by a tsunami of lengthy text.

Reading through it, it was all about how everyone was doing fine. Seti had entered a stable period, and Kristin had received treatment and could return to school. Teacher Kendra had miraculously succeeded in reattaching her arm.

[Eidel, I miss you.]

The last sentence conveyed a strange emotion.

If it were just me missing, that would be one thing. But with Seti in that situation, I couldn’t tell how long Rustila would hold up. Her parents’ reaction would be the key factor.

I needed to return as soon as possible.

But that wasn’t easy.

I clicked my tongue and opened the email from Zernya.

[Transcript]

[The homeroom teacher told me to send this. The practical exam content has been nullified, so keep that in mind.]

[And, make sure you come back before summer vacation ends, no matter what. I’ll properly put you in your place in the second semester.]

I laughed and rubbed my face.

“A transcript?”

It was Guard Weisel.

He looked at my grades and ranking and gaped.

“The constellations are indifferent. No one took in such a genius until a foreign god infected him.”

I stared indifferently at the number ‘1’ written on the monitor.

Honestly, it was a rank beyond what I deserved.

I was able to reach that point with Descartes’ computational assistance. While my own efforts played a part, they weren’t the major factor.

People should always be humble.

By now, only one email remained.

No, not just one.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emails were coming in real-time.

All of them started with ‘Student Eidel, it’s been a while,’ but their contents were surprisingly substantial.

[I’ve compiled the academic comments on the paper you and I wrote. I hope it helps you.]

[Here’s a review paper on cosmology that came out in the last month. You can’t subscribe to journals in Alcatraz, right? I’ve included the file directly, so please study it diligently.]

[This is an idea notebook I wrote while discussing with fellow professors. Please read it and reply if you find anything interesting.]

[I’ve attached a RATEX license key. If you’re in a position to draft papers, please use this.]

Drip.

“Ha, student. What’s wrong?”

“Hic, hic, hic…!”

I trembled while holding my fist to my mouth.

“What is it, has madness struck? Ah… I see. Your girlfriend wrote you a letter saying she misses you.”

Finally.

I can finally write papers again.