Chapter 22: As Pheidippides Ran to Athens III

5. Death of Oliv

The stairs continued down, at an uncomfortable decline, at an uncomfortable angle, at an uncomfortable shape. Oliv nervously added; one would imagine that silence was his greatest enemy, and that in silence his very soul was exposed to peril, and that his form was only sustained through constant verbal expressions.

"This is just like how I imagined how ants would be like in their nests. There was an ant hill in her garden, you see, and I spent so much time looking at them...not because I found them interesting, but because I found the structure they made very interesting. I wished to gain some insight into their house through their movements...and some days I even tried to imagine myself as an ant going through those tunnels, trying to understand how it would feel like! Ahe, he, he...oh, it does not interest you..."

"...I don't mind."

Ah, Rockman was too kind. Even as his consciousness was progressively drowning in the thick mist of fragmented fatigue, his kindness still struggled and held him together.

"'I don't mind' you say! Oh, but you mind! Yes, you do! But since you said you don't mind..."

Then Oliv went on to babble about ants and his fascination with them while Rockman did not hide his disinterest and drifting attention. Had this been the real world, Oliv would've been the type of person that even Rockman would not be able to befriend, even if he did try as it is a virtue to befriend the lonely, as there was an air of indescribable foulness in the way Oliv spoke passionately. Readers, I do not mean to be disrespectful, but have you had a chance to lay your eyes on a homeless man, clearly intoxicated and drugged, noticing how his eyes gleamed with enigmatic intentions? And then, fearing many possibly fearful outcomes, you had to make a detour just to avoid that person, keeping an eye on him all the while because you don't know when and how he will pounce, like a rabid wolf, even though you knew that was an impossibility by the laws of physics because he had wobbly gaits? It was that kind of foulness. Had there been a choice, Rockman would've stayed far away from this navi; he had no choice, and so he stayed. I dare not include here Oliv's monologue, as it was full of wrong facts, false suppositions, incorrect conclusions, and overall it was not a very productive rambling. In writing them out, I fear that some readers would gain an irreversible misconception about ants, which would then persist for their entire lives...

They reached the end before Oliv drifted to the topic of mushrooms. At the end of the unpleasantly spiraling stairs was a door with an exit sign. It was the kind that was metallic, heavy, slightly rusted, and that made squeaking noises due to the visually insignificant deformations that accumulated along the edges over the years while exposed to the elements without maintenance. The goal of recreating such earthly phenomena in this virtual world was something Rockman still could not comprehend, but they did uplift his mood somewhat; it was a nice change from the fearfully featureless purgatory that he had to suffer since becoming a netnavi.

Oliv confidently stepped forward and attempted to open it. The door stood firm against the efforts of Oliv, that specimen of a feeble and unhappy existence...he then applied himself to the problem in various ways, even throwing his whole body against it once, twice, thrice...the door did not budge. Readers, it is the irony of the world we live in that sometimes the smallest of problems, like this door, which no one expects to be an iron wall, turn out to be the nastiest of hindrances, even capable of thwarting whole operations...Naturally, Rockman intervened. Natural, because when a person sees another failing at a problem, he is automatically inspired to try it himself, thinking that his doing the same action, somehow, would solve the issue. Then, if that person also fails, each member of the group takes his turn at it, until either the problem is solved or all fail equally...Ah, the wonders of behavioral biology! However comically predictable Rockman's intervention was, he struggled too. The door only yielded after several forceful pushes by him—the brutish kind that involves leaning against the door with brachium. The third time he slammed it, it opened suddenly with a clunking sound and desperate screechings of hinges tormented with an imperfect fit, just like how human relationships, cemented with noblest oaths of devotion, often end up...and this observation was easily supportable with the piles after piles of divorce filings, blotched with the tears of wrath, sleeping in the most insignificant part of court archives...Was his relationship with Netto becoming like this, too? The uninvited idea of insecurity that suddenly condensed out of the haze of his mind—undoubtedly due to his increasing need to defragment memory cortex—dispersed equally suddenly as it came, for beyond the door was-

A spectacle of the world upside down bathed in the blindingly violet light.

Immediately beyond the door was a suspended pathway, like a maintenance catwalk, complete with bar grating flooring that allowed one to observe freely what was under him (in exchange for the sense of vulnerability that the floor could fail at any moment). He walked onto it while forming a sort of awning with his left hand, trying to block the bright light that was preventing him from seeing anything beyond the proximity of the doorframe. It did not work; confused, Rockman tried different orientations. They also did not work. What about this direction? That direction? None worked. Then someone—Oliv it must have been. Who else could it be? It was only two of them there—grabbed his hand and positioned it such that it was now covering sights below. It worked! Rockman realized that the light was coming from below. As his eyes rested in the shade of his hand, they accommodated to the level of brightness, allowing Rockman to see with acceptable clarity again. Then the full extent of the reality struck him. This was what he saw:

The first understanding was that there was a city upside down. The imperious skyline of the undernet city he witnessed prior to taking the spiraling stairs was repeating before him, but reversed, hanging upside down like stalactites of a limestone cave. There was no mistaking the equivalence of the skylines, as the unnaturally straight, monolithic pillar-like buildings (with jet-black exterior finishing and complete absence of windows), which were iconic, were there as well. Above Rockman was ground, while below him was the endless depth of the sky. In it was a purple sun incandescent like a beacon, situated at the exact center of the expanse, as if it was a high noon of summer, during which no shadow is formed on the streets due to the mercilessly exact alignment of the light to the perpendicular direction in respect to the Earth. However, as much as the city itself was a mirror image of what was seen before, the sky—or the unbounded abyss depending on the perspective—was not a copy. The rivers of clouds flowing beneath him were of such a high resolution and naturality, as well as the distance to the purple sun underneath them indeterminable, that Rockman realized this reversed place was the original and that what he saw previously at the ground level was the duplicate of this place, except rearranged into the comprehensible upright orientation.

The reversed terrain without the reversal of the gravitational field was not a conducive condition for navigation. As such, this hanging city was suffering from the infestation of added structures, such as the catwalk Rockman was currently standing on, that made movement from one point to another possible. If this city could be likened to a plant, then the auxiliary paths were like ivies and spider webs covering the entire surface, sparing no gap between any two fixed structures, giving the scenery an unsettlingly organic yet derelict look.

However, the magnificence of peripeteia was undeniable. By peripeteia, I mean the complete reversal of fortunes of everything. By everything, I mean the inanimate objects that compose the world. By complete reversal of fortunes of inanimate objects, I mean their orientation and positions. The complete reversal of everything in the world is something that a young mind, downtrodden with failures and rejections, wishes; such a world was present before Rockman's eyes—a perfect world for hopeless netnavis, rejected and banished from the topside, in need of a place of irrationality...a place where they were free to fall, or rise, infinitely, into the sky!

Netto, distracted by the promise of another adventure the scenery presented, rather excitedly proclaimed that they should come back here and map out every corner, uncover every secret, and discover everything there is to discover in this place once they were done with the WWW business. Rockman, while thinking 'Pff, Netto kun, you must have forgotten that this is going to be our last adventure. But...if we can make it...then...' happily whispered "Sure, Netto kun. Let's do that."

"Hmm? What was that, Rock?" remarked Oliv, "You looked happy just now, and I know it because it was similar to how she used to smile. You were happy, right? Even if for just a brief moment? Yes? I knew it! I knew it! You were! It means you also can't wait to dream... No worries and leave it to me! I'll take us to the WWW server in no time, and both of us will get what we want...we will be happy! Yes! Not in the painfully transient way when we suddenly remember a fragment of the past so vividly, which we cannot duplicate at will...but permanently! I think. No, I am sure. I am sure we will be happy there. Right? Right! Come! Let's go! This way!"

On the first part of their journey, which was towards the direction of the 'tallest' of the towers, which was at the center of the hanging city, he remarked,

"The hanging city...it is rumored that it was found as we see it now, and that no one knows who made it or how it was made...no one even knows on what server this place is physically situated...because it does not make sense. Ah, what does not make sense? Latency, my friend, latency! Some brave investigators from the governments tried to logically triangulate its Earthly position by checking the latency between their netnavis and PETs while logging in from places that were half a globe away from each other! I heard that one group logged in from Europe, one from Asia, and one from Canada or the southern end of the United States...was that Texas? I think so. Yeah. To their surprise, the latency was almost nonexistent from all locations! It was as if this place defied space-time itself, a purgatory between hell and Earth... I heard that the results frightened a mighty many. Repeat measurements were all the same. Oh, why hell? Well, everything falls into infinity, or what we think to be infinity, here! I, being a romanticist, like to imagine that it must be heaven down there. I mean, if not heaven, then why is this so determined to make us fall into the sky? Sky? Think about it... Why am I not jumping myself, then? Rock, Rock! It's just that I imagine, not that I believe! But you are right; some believed, and they tried...we call them 'divers' or 'jumpers,' heh. If you stay here long enough, you will see plenty of them. Ah, but none of them ever returns. I mean, who can? Hahaha! When the netnavis from the topside jumped, I heard that the link to them was lost when they crossed that...river of clouds, yeah. Look, they flow like rivers...so fluent, so continuous, so amorphous, almost transparent...amazing, isn't it? Some days I feel like I can watch them for eternity..."

Oliv stopped and watched them flowing far below them for ten seconds, maybe twenty seconds. He then shook his head.

"What's strange is that when I am watching it, especially if done long enough, I feel like I am going to forget everything. It's almost like it's sucking you in, hypnotizing you, consoling you, embracing you...and I could almost hear it singing, too... Had it not been that netnavi who kicked me onto the floor for being 'a pathetic loser,' I surely would've jumped then and there. Does this mean that I should thank him? It's one of those little questions to which the answer does not matter, but makes me stop in my tracks, he he he. And it's not only me who feels this way when watching that river...so every netnavi here tries to not look at it for too long...but I wonder what would happen if-"

Oliv abruptly stopped speaking and looked down, like an oppressed slave cowering before his master, singularly focusing his eyes on the floor and not hiding his submissive intentions. There were two netnavis coming towards them from the front. Were they acquaintances? Rockman, sensing trouble, readied his buster. Alas! Those netnavis simply passed them by, and one of them scanned Rockman in a way that conveyed rudeness coming out of stupidity, but Rockman understood that he did not make any lasting impression on any of them. If he had to guess, Oliv made a more lasting impression on them, in a way that greatly harmed his future, painting himself as a game ready to be hunted through such a posture.

"...Who are they?"

"...Oh, them? Nobody! No, I mean, I am sure they are somebodies, but nobody to me! Ahah! So...where were we?"

"...You were talking about rivers of clouds, and how you felt like forgetting everything when you watched them for too long."

"...Right, right! So, uh, I...I am sorry. I forgot what I was going to say after that. It's probably nothing important, heh! Anyways, this way, this way, of course, of course!"

They passed several more netnavis on the way. Each time, Oliv always stopped all talks, even as he had to do so abruptly, when he sighted one. He never made any eye contact with them, looking at the precarious floor as if he was greatly afraid of their attention. Only when the others were well beyond the range of hearing, he resumed, though he struggled to remember where he was to pick up.

Either the hanging city was not as large as Rockman thought or their starting position was closer to the center than he estimated. It did not take long until they neared the center of the area, where the windowless and black 'skyscrapers' rose downward. Consequently, they encountered other netnavis more frequently, and soon they were among a crowd, the local traffic. Paradoxically, the more populated their environment became, the more Oliv spoke without fear.

"I know what you are wondering. I wondered it too the first time I came here, but only recently discovered the answer. You are thinking 'Why does this place have more netnavis than the upright side, the ground level?' Brother, it turns out that humans were in need of a secret place to hide and discuss some dirty things, so they send their navis here and do their dirty stuffs... Isn't that amazing, too? Like, don't humans already have enough dirty places to do dirty things on Earth? Why here? Are alleyways too clean for them? Offices with seven locks and security guards at the door too public for them? Sewage drains too hygenic for them? Closed circuit communications too open for them? What are they hiding from? God? If they believed God was real, then why do they even bother doing all the stuff that they agree as wrong? Wasn't God supposed to know this place as well? I mean, humans... They say the freedom, anonymity, convenience, lack of latency, and many other factors as excuses...I truly believe it's all excuses. Oh, Rock, brother, you look mighty confused. Well, this is what I can tell you...

"The ground level sells things for netnavis. I'm sure you noticed the aggressive neon signs and advertisements there. I know, I know, almost all of them are porns, but if you look at right places, I heard you can get some amazing programs, addons, and whatnot. Anyways that's what the ground level is for...and also a Scilab outpost. Yeah, you didn't know, huh. There is a Scilab outpost on the highest floor in the highest building of the undernet city. I don't know what they are doing there, and it's a very small space, almost a token presence, but they are there. Not many know this, and I only learned about it by sheer luck. Wait, can I even say that I was lucky? The information is of no benefit to me. If anything, knowing about it is only a danger to myself...bah, why should I care when no one cares about it anyways? Well, that was that...

"The under levels—here—sell things for humans. Yeah, you heard that right, humans. All illegal transactions, I heard. Oh, don't look at me like that, it's not like the actual physical transactions occur here...just agreements to sin together...and documents...and maybe money...alright, fine, so they might be able to trade some things here, but still. A very strange place this place has become...What do they sell? I don't know the trend exactly. Rock, I don't have a death-wish; I don't poke around places where I am clearly not welcome. But I heard that about a month ago industrial spies selling out techs was a thing...well, there were some fights erupting here and there, and some navis running around and then getting deleted, so I guess it's one of those true rumors... Don't worry! Humans and their navis mostly stay within the levels of B1~B20. We will soon exit that layer and we won't have to fear the topsiders. No more topsiders, that's the dream for many... Wait, Rock, you don't understand the fear of topsiders? Holy Jesus Christ save this clueless lamb! I thought you would be—based on how quick you were with shoving that buster to my body earlier—an expert at this! Alright, alright, this is the deal: topsiders sometimes hunt other navis using their netnavis in the undernet, especially in less populated spots. If the victim is humanless, then even better, because that means no trouble after the deed! It's all for fun... no, mostly for fun, except when they delete each other as a part of a sabotage contract. Wait, Rock, now that I think about it, I can't decide which is more prevalent—paid hits or recreational banditry. At any rate, there is only fear to be had for the likes of me. The end for humanless netnavis like me is always one of several predetermined endings...be hunted, fall into the sky, die somewhere quiet like an old cat, or join the hunters but get blasted one day because you took a wrong bite...or dream! But I don't know what comes after the dream, heh heh.

"The deeper we go, more humanless netnavis there are. I don't know what kind of existence they led, so I can't speak for all of them, but you can bet that they hate humans. They are always so angry. I mean, very angry. But they won't be to you or to me because we are humanless, although...they will try to recruit us. So stay away from them, alright? Just follow me...

"Between B21~B30, I heard some things are sold that even humans hesitate to sell in undernet, like humans. Yeah, you heard that right—I heard that they sell humans there! What? If I meant organs? Oh, Rock, you can get those around B8~B10. They are only parts of humans and there are a lot of customers for them. You know, there is a medical term that is only used in the undernet: emergency organ transplant. Yup! You heard that right! No more wait lists! Pay enough to the right person somewhere there, someone somewhere on the Earth gets harvested, and then- profit! It's a field of extremely high demand, mind you... had human organ transplant procedures not been limited by self versus non-self immune reactions, I am sure the market would've exploded... But here, I was talking about whole humans! Slaves? Oh, Rock... Slaves at least get recognition and status... I'm sure they sell some for slavery purposes, but I also heard some are sold as toys or meat. Those who are sold as meat are sometimes called 'long pigs,' hehe... I mean, the names these humans come up with! No wonder in the second myth of Biblical creation the first thing Adam does is to name things...it's like humans die if they don't make cute names for everything. What about toy humans? I don't know...it's entirely beyond my understanding and I am not even sure if it is really real, you know? I once had a glimpse of a photo, apparently that of a merchandise, of such a toy human. It was a young female, blinded and amputated on all fours... What's the point of that? What's the use of her? I really don't know Rock... and such photos could be fabricated quite easily, so I can't tell you if that was a real advertisement. Oh, Rock, chop chop! This way, not that way!"

They veered away from the main traffic and went to places that no one seemingly treaded for a while. Shortly, they were alone again. From here on, the path Oliv led them...path was a misnomer, at least that much could be said with confidence. Just as a mountaineer treads between trees and over the bushes, claiming that this is indeed a path he knows, while the force of the verdure that needs to be hacked with machete for a man to pass attests to the fact that it is not the path he knows, but simply a direction he knows, so did Oliv lead Rockman.

"Oliv...this is not a path"

"Yes it is, yes it is! Just watch your step here...and there...just watch me. You step on this broken ladder, jump- to- ugh! Here... Be careful to not fall! Hehe... and then we will jump again- down- to here! As long as you are not so heavy, this hanging... fragment? It won't break. I think. Good! You are a quick learner, aren't you?

"I also know what your next question is going to be. It is natural; there is never an exception. 'By which standard are depths of undernet divided? What makes B2 any different from B1?' Rock...the answer is the same as to the question before...latency! It's always latency! I mean, it's a meaningless standard for humanless navis, but to topsiders...and if you want to hide from them, I guess it matters even if you are humanless! But you will say, 'Wait, but I thought you said undernet had no latency to all connectors from the world, inexplicably!' Of course, of course! That's only the ground level and the B1, brother. The investigators figured out that the latency uniformly increased the deeper they went, or closer to the 'sky' they went, regardless of their connecting locale...but you know what's the most interesting part of this story? The latency increased in sudden jumps, not in a linear, logarithmic, or exponential gradient! It was a step-wise function, a quantized phenomenon! And the magnitude of each increase was the same! Or so I heard, heh. In the world where physicists expect most observations to produce something in a gradient, not quanta, except in quantum physics, this observation must have driven many to madness. Wonderful, isn't it? Simply wonderful! But the truth is...the depth of each B-level coincides perfectly with the floor level of one of these black buildings. Oh, look, Rock, this part is a bit difficult... let me focus."

They were now traveling along the 'ivies' that covered the 'tallest' building. The descent was rather rapid as it involved many jumps. Apparently not many traveled along the exterior of the building like they did; by the level of B34, Rockman had to ask:

"Oliv, the WWW server, maybe it's located-"

"Huh? Didn't I say it before? I didn't? Oh, silly me, silly me, forgetting the most important part! But I see that you already have guessed correctly. Yep, it's at the bottom of this...or at the top of this structure! Which is B56! One irony to note is...that the position of the WWW server is in the mirrored position of the Scilab outpost at the ground level! Isn't that interesting? Oh, I wish I had a funny conspiracy theory to tell you with this...but I don't. But I am also sure you can come up with one, and someone somewhere out there will believe you..."

By the level of B54, Oliv said,

"We are almost there. Two more jumps and there's a door to enter at B55! Ah, I forgot to mention that the inside is- oh, we are here! Heh, come on in, come on in!"

From the wall of the structure that was 'highest' in the hanging city, there was nothing but an unhindered full view of the 'sky' under them. Fierce gales constantly threatened them to shake them off of their footings, which was already perniciously dubious, and it seemed that they were at some great peril, at any moment capable of being driven into the irreversible embrace of that river of clouds. Rockman, not trusting Oliv to do the necessary work with the necessary patience, approached the door first with some acrobatics and opened it. Like well-oiled cogs it opened with luxurious and silent smoothness—the kind that is very satisfying to the hands that operate it. Rockman then secured Oliv, threw him inside, followed suit, and then quickly closed the door. It slammed shut from the sudden pressure difference generated by an exceptionally strong wind that licked the places they just left. Did they just avoid an anticlimactic end to their journey at a hair's breadth? Probably not for Rockman who would've held on with strength; probably yes for Oliv. But was falling down into the unknown such a bad ending for this dissipating green netnavi? Rockman so far dared not to say what he knew about dreams, and how, insofar as his knowledge went, every dreaming netnavi ended in utter unhappiness. Oliv sought happiness in dreams; to Rockman, it seemed that the navi's chances of obtaining the coveted happiness were greater in that endless purple sky than in dreams. It is true that Rockman did not say anything to Oliv as he needed the guide and needed to know the precise location of the WWW server. However, had he said anything, would that have changed the mind of Oliv? A mind ready to accept something accepts all contradictions; a mind not ready to accept something rejects all explanations. The green navi, in all likelihood, would not have accepted the grim prediction.

Inside the building was blindingly dark, and Oliv had to engage his headlamp again. They were in a featurelessly empty chamber of indeterminate size and height, , Oliv lead confidently, turning right and then moving along the wall. Rockman noticed four peculiarities:

1. The interior was upright, not reversed.

2. The hall was already larger, based on the distance they covered, than the dimension of the structure as seen from the outside.

3. It was too dark. From his crimson dreams, Rockman learned that in darkness only multiplied ugliness.

4. It was utterly silent except for a very faint sound of...a thousand continuous screams? From above, very far away?

"Oliv, don't you hear it?" Rockman whispered alarmingly.

"...Hear what?" Oliv answered in a whisper likewise.

"Shh...the screams. Thousand endless screams."

"...? No? Maybe you got a better hearing than me, or maybe you are just nervous...but Rock, whatever you hear in the darkness of the undernet...don't answer. I mean it. No navi that answers help calls ever returns, especially in the deepest depths where even humanless netnavis don't dare to tread...I mean, just think about it, whatever that is naive enough to call for help in distress...how would it ever reach to these depths?"

Rockman silently agreed. That was a valid point.

"...Okay...then do you know what's at the center of this...hall? This level?"

"...I have no idea, but I don't want to figure it out. Here, here is our last staircase. Take it and then it will be B56. I don't want to stay here any longer."

B56.

Similarly structured to B55. Dark and spacious. The first object that greeted them was a tombstone. On it was written:

.

Tadashi Hikari,

His worth.

.

"...What?"

A breath of astonishment escaped through Rockman's mouth. It was the name of-

"A human name at B56, I know. Weird, isn't it? Especially with a tombstone. I guess it's an equivalent of 'insert-your-name was here' type of graffiti that people so love to leave behind. I never understood the reason for such markings, but I guess there is some sense of accomplishment in reaching B56...and to feel that accomplishment, I guess that...Tadashi person came down via the main pathway! Well, that means he had a powerful netnavi, didn't he? Or maybe it's just a bad prank that only two or three people are supposed to understand, who knows..."

Oliv pulled Rockman, urging to move on. Beyond the tombstone was a bunker-like complex, presumably the center of this level. Around it were light posts, the portable ones like those seen in the mining sites, making the place unmistakably conspicuous. The gate to the complex was held with a security lock, on which the shape of a skull was displayed—the WWW signature Rockman saw and memorized countless times! The end of his journey was almost at hand!

Oliv let go of Rockman. He excitedly ran forward and hammered away at the security lock with his fists, knocking with morbid desperation. To explain the scene with a better precision...if a man, stranded in the desert, who had nothing to drink for three days, had to plea to the caravan he just found, the last line of hope to his life, that he be given a drop of water, then it would have been similar. In the process, it was as if he became glued more and more to the closed entrance, like a slug conforming its own shape to that of the surface. It was the shape of his existence. It was the shape of his thirst.

The security lock soon opened and a netnavi emerged from inside. It was a custom netnavi that looked like a fully painted and dressed clown riding on an elastic globe (a white ball that had a spotted pattern of small blue circles) as large as himself. Rockman remembered what his father told him, in one of the maintenance visits: that custom netnavis are, more or less, a reflection of the soul of the owner. Therefore, the father sternly warned, that should Rockman encounter a custom netnavi, he also should take time to study its appearance and personality, as well as precisely what its goals were. He said, 'If the design is striking, then it must be noted that such a design is precisely due to the choice of the owner. If the behavior is erratic, then it must be noted that such behavior is due to the choice of the owner, as well as learning on the navi's part. If the desire is perverse, then it must be noted that such desire is in alignment with that of the owner, if not voluntarily adopted by the netnavi to appease its owner.' Then, what kind of a fractured and perverse soul would have required the perpetual companionship of a deranged clown? The clown instantly erupted into petulant shoutings.

"S-t-o-p- k-n-o-c-k-i-n-g! MAGICMAN IT'S YOU WHO ARE LATE, NOT M-" When the clown noticed the slug lying on the doorstep, he erupted into another mood. "Oh...oh? OH! O-Ho ho ho ho ho! WHAT A garbage WE HAVE HERE! Magicman...once you get here, you are dead..."

The way the clown spoke was like the concoction of all immature tantrums that existed in this world—a truly perverse way of speech. He came down from the globe he was riding and began poking the slug with his foot.

"You dead? You dead? Don't die here, DIE SOMEWHERE ELSE! Geez, manners these days, manners! DON'T YOU HEAR ME, YOU-"

However, the slug, instead of going somewhere else to die there, expertly latched onto the foot, filthily, like a used chewing gum.

"O...Oooooooooohhh!" cried the slug, Oliv, in the ecstasy of laying down the burdens of his mind. His end was here. "Sir, sir, sir! I have it...I have it with me...look, please look...my...my...here...here!"

In profound stuttering and trembling, Oliv produced the 5000 zennies he received from Rockman.

"The dream, please, sir, the dream, for me! I need to go back, back, back to that time when everything was in- intact, when she, she, was, was, still with me...please, please! I have the ze- zennies, here! Re- real zennies! Here, here, please, see, see them and, and please..."

Oh, the utter disgust in the eyes of the clown!

"...Dream?"

"Yes, yes! Precisely! Yes!"

"Why?"

"To...to...to...become happy! To see her again! She was happy! She was happy when she dreamed!"

"Ugh"

"I shall dream! I shall dream, too, and..."

"You came all the way down here for the dream program? YOU FUCKING moron."

The clown then looked up at Rockman

"And you, yes you in the cloak, must be the pathfinder...who brought him all the way down here. What a pair of morons...MORONS!...Don't you know our office is at B25? And you call yourself a pathfinder? And how the heck did you figure out about this place? Ugh, ugh, UUUUUUGGGHHH!" The clown shook his feet and untangled Oliv. The decrepit navi pooled on the ground like a proper slug.

"Sir...sir...please...sir..." whimpered Oliv.

"STOP CALLing me sir, you filthy slug."

"Yes, yes, si- I mean, yes!"

"Colorman. Call me colorman. No, don't call me at all. Just shut up. I need to think...AND I HATE TO THINK! THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!"

Colorman kicked Oliv several times, with force. However, Oliv, like a loyal dog, suppressed all his sounds, keeping the command to 'shut up' with perfection. Or maybe it was the case that slugs didn't know how to make sounds, their expressions strictly limited to slow twists.

"HaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!... you know what? I'm done thinking. I'm just going to bring you in and give you the dream. Yeah. Just like that. I'm going to do it. Zenny is zenny, and what is Magicman going to yell at me for it? HE CAN GO fuck HIMSELF. I don't care. I DON'T CARE! It's not my fault. IT'S ALL HIS FAULT! Good, good! There! Problem solved! Wait, but what about you, the pathfinder? You also need something from me? Nah, if you are strong enough to get all the way here while escorting this garbage, then...but I also can't let you go like this...Ah! AHA! I'M A GENIUS! MAGICMAN WILL FINALLY BOW DOWN TO MY GENIUS! We are short on hands, mister, so why don't we hire you? It's going to pay you well, I promise! Just come to this place on Saturday-"

Colorman tossed a memo data at Rockman.

"-and help me out. What do you say? Deal?"

Rockman understood, based on the mood, tone, and 'I also can't let you go like this' of Colorman, that the presence of WWW at the level of B56 was to remain a secret. He also understood that declining the offer would lead to a fight between them, as Colorman would try to silence him through deletion, for a dead one never speaks. Due to the atrocious latency between him and Netto at the level of B56, he did not want to risk a battle. It was at this moment, when Rockman understood the lack of choice he had in the situation, that an idea flashed inside his mind. A perfect idea it seemed...an idea that could make the entire situation to his favor!

"...Deal." answered Rockman

"Okie Dokie! But..." Colorman grabbed Oliv by the helmet and threw him to the top of the large ball next to him. Oliv did not resist, but simply adhered himself to the new surface, like a good slug. Colorman continued in the lowest, discordant, almost demonic, voice "You better show up"

Rockman was not impressed. After the crimson dreams, such an intimidation technique was a child's play. The nonchalance of Rockman seemed to have pleased Colorman, on the other hand, for the clown smiled horribly in satisfaction, corners of his mouth almost touching the ears...

Oliv was taken inside, and then Rockman was alone.