Chapter 420: President Gong |
The masked man had had enough.
He stopped responding to the "barking" from beneath the stage. With a hearty laugh, he straightened up and addressed the entire hall:
"The splendor of life is much like this very moment — always interrupted by unexpected interludes. But no matter how delightful these little diversions may be, most are nothing more than garnish. They'll never become life's main melody, much less its climax.
So let us get to the point.
My surname is indeed Gong. If you don't mind, you may call me 'President Gong.' As the convener of the Mediocre Person Society, I believe I marginally deserve the title of 'president.'"
But most players clearly weren't buying it. Nobody had the slightest understanding of what the Mediocre Person Society actually was. No one was about to hand a stranger the title of "leader" right out of the gate — especially one they'd never met.
So the hall buzzed with life.
Most players kept their grumbling internal — quiet mutterings at most. But bolder voices existed. From the upper tiers, someone let out a shout:
"Hilarious! You haven't explained a single thing about what the Mediocre Person Society even is, but the first thing you do is lock in your own title? President Gong, isn't that a little shameless?
Hmm, doesn't quite fit — you don't seem fanatical enough...
You give me more of a 'nouveau riche tossing coins at beggars' vibe. Not much craziness, but a healthy dose of arrogance.
Huh? You wouldn't happen to be a Folly moron, would you?"
"..."
Everyone glanced back in surprise, but the spot the voice had come from was empty.
Teleporting in a room of over a thousand people was a brazen move — unlikely to evade that many eyes. So the challenge was probably voice projection; someone had masked their location by throwing their voice elsewhere.
Cheng Shi raised an eyebrow, finding the situation more interesting by the second.
Not everyone here was mediocre. Some clearly had real ability — and real skill at passive-aggressive snark.
Though the heckler was challenging President Gong, his words also managed to insult Corruption and Folly in passing.
Corruption followers would probably let it slide — they were absorbed in their own desires and wouldn't get heated over petty jabs. But Folly...
Folly followers would never let it go. The instant the man's voice faded, contemptuous retorts erupted from every corner:
"Pointless."
"Utterly foolish."
"Mediocre people indeed."
"Idiot!"
"..."
Cheng Shi wanted to laugh. And he wasn't alone — even the insulted President Gong cracked up.
He threw his head back and laughed three times on stage, then gestured for quiet. Patiently, he explained:
"This has nothing to do with my faith. Suspicion and skepticism are perfectly normal. But what I want to say is that I've gathered you all here not to elevate myself, nor to extract anything from you, but for...
All of you!
Don't interrupt just yet. I know that as the Faith Game has progressed, most of you no longer believe in selfless benefactors.
But as it happens — I'm one of them.
Honestly? I've participated in too many trials. Endured too much suffering. Witnessed too many tragedies.
I know how each of you crawled up from 1200 points. I know how ordinary people struggle to survive in this apocalypse of the Gods' Descent.
Not everyone has the talent to climb to the top of the Ladder of Ascent. Not everyone is lucky enough to clear the 2000-point threshold. I couldn't bear to watch more compatriots vanish into the river of time. That's why I conceived the Mediocre Person Society.
Admit it, everyone — we're all mediocre!
In this age of divine descent, as humanity's fire dims, the geniuses can push through blizzards alone. But we can't. We need to huddle together for warmth. Only by gathering and supporting one another can we walk further!
Just like the Mutual Aid Societies in every region — only by clasping each other's hands can we withstand greater storms and climb the same peaks as the geniuses, to glimpse the view on the other side!"
President Gong spoke with rousing passion, but far too few were swayed.
The Folly followers launched a second round of ridicule. One didn't even bother hiding, sneering loudly:
"How unnecessary! If Mutual Aid Societies already provide mutual help, why do we need a Mediocre Person Society bossing everyone around?"
President Gong burst into laughter. He looked at the Folly follower who'd "publicly sneered" from the back rows and replied with a smile:
"Not everyone in a Mutual Aid Society is mediocre. My friend in Folly, please use that sharp mind of yours for a moment. If you were the highest-scoring member of a Mutual Aid Society, would you go out of your way to pull up the low-scoring players?"
"?"
Everyone turned. The Folly follower wrinkled his brow and said nothing more.
Obviously, he wouldn't.
But watching this exchange, Cheng Shi's lips curled imperceptibly.
'This President Gong is interesting.'
The question itself was shallow. After all, people who joined a Mutual Aid Society were, by definition, willing to lend a hand. So the question was basically meaningless.
But!
His skill in choosing who to answer was superb.
The challenger was a Folly follower — the type who'd never join a Mutual Aid Society. His challenge was purely logic-based inference.
From his standpoint, Mutual Aid Societies shouldn't exist at all. All he saw was the false kindness and pretense in them. To him, such organizations only dragged people down.
So President Gong had taken a shortcut: traded a meaningless question for a guaranteed answer, and neatly choked the Folly follower using his own logic.
It wasn't the most brilliant maneuver. But as long as it outshone the challenger, it was enough to burnish his image in the crowd's eyes.
After all, this was a gathering of "mediocre people."
Even if clever people lurked among them, the clever always saw through without saying so. President Gong had evidently grasped this principle, which was why he'd used this approach to clap back at a Folly follower.
Though on second thought, that Folly follower might genuinely be mediocre...
His score probably wasn't high.
Sure enough, the sneering Folly follower fell silent. He wanted to say something more but found nothing to say.
President Gong smiled faintly and continued:
"Our friend here seems to understand. Not everyone in a Mutual Aid Society is mediocre — but we... all are.
Even if you refuse to accept it, we must acknowledge that compared to those lofty leaderboard players, we might as well be nothing.
Below 2000 points, all are equal. So rather than calling ourselves mediocre, we're really just a group of unfortunate souls at roughly the same level.
Given that, let's stop scheming and dragging each other down. If you're willing to walk forward hand in hand with the Mediocre Person Society, perhaps one day... the leaderboards will have a place for us too."
The instant President Gong's voice faded, The Prisoner — still pinned underfoot — craned his head up and spoke again.
"The Ladder of Ascent has eight boards. Even counting the Road of Ascension, there are only a few hundred named spots.
But there have to be at least a thousand people in this hall. Old Gong, when the Mediocre Person Society makes it big, who goes first and who goes last?"
...