Chương 154: Chapter 153: The Essay "The Vance Glass Cage"

The 8K TV mounted on the wall of the 120th-floor office was broadcasting a live academic panel from the Grand Auditorium of Seoul National University. At the podium sat an old man in a threadbare gray wool coat, seated in an old metal wheelchair. This was Professor of Philosophy Kang Min-Jae — a former B-Rank Hunter whose leg tendons had been severed in a dungeon collapse ten years earlier.

His hair had gone white and his hands were spotted with age, but behind the reading glasses his eyes were flat and sharp as a pair of scalpels. Lucian sat in his leather executive chair, a hardbound notebook and a gold-plated fountain pen in hand. His original purpose in turning on the TV had been simple enough: log every defamatory, brand-damaging claim so his legal team could consider a damages suit first thing tomorrow. But the fountain pen in Lucian's hand had remained untouched on the blank page.

Professor Kang adjusted the microphone on the podium and spoke in a calm, level voice, without a trace of agitation or hostility.

"Vance Earth Holdings is not the devil. They provide clean power at a public tariff, they send drones to clear routine monster incidents, and they have brought a more comfortable life to many struggling Hunter families." He paused, looking straight into the camera lens.

"But that apparent perfection... is turning people into pets in a warm glass cage." Kang Min-Jae pointed to the screen behind him.

"Look at the public records. Academy enrollment is falling. Training hours are being cut. Research groups tied to dungeon response are closing or losing staff. Emergency infrastructure is concentrating around one private operator. We are voluntarily handing too much of our survival capacity to a single company." The old professor's voice carried through the whole hall.

"If, one day, the people who hold Vance's keys walk away — or a successor decides to raise the price of electricity beyond what communities can bear — how will we fight back? With hands that have forgotten how to hold a weapon?" This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Lucian sat motionless in his leather chair. He stared at Professor Kang's systemic risk analysis on the screen, then down at the blank page on his lap.

He couldn't find a single point to build a lawsuit on. The professor had not defamed anyone. He had assembled public records into a case Lucian could not dismiss: the same training gaps, supplier concentration, and succession risks that had been appearing in Vance internal reviews were now visible to an outsider. Lucian turned to Evelyn, sitting beside him.

"Weird... he found the same bottlenecks our internal review flagged. On slide four, he even points at two network weak spots you keep postponing." Evelyn, mid-typing, stopped short, pushed her glasses up, and squinted at the TV, muttering.

"Damn it... the third comm-port vulnerability... let me pull up the console and push a hotfix right now!" Ting. The dim black panel of Unified System V2. 0 opened in front of him: [COMBAT RESPONSE: NOT APPLICABLE.] ● Host has identified no factual rebuttal from available records. ● Suggested action: investigate the cited risks instead of suing the speaker. Eleanor, sitting in the armchair beside him, lifted the silver teapot and poured a stream of hot chrysanthemum tea into Lucian's cup.

She set the pot down, studying his pensive profile, and spoke softly.

"He's right, Lucian. In the Solaris Empire, a nation is only truly safe when its people can pick up a sword and defend their own land — not when they depend on an immortal saint." Lucian picked up the teacup and took a sip, letting out a long sigh.

"I just wanted to sell electricity and save up for retirement. Whose fault is it that they threw down their own swords to be lazy?" Click. Lucian reached for the remote and switched off the TV. The 120th-floor office sank into quiet darkness, lit only by the neon glow of Seoul's skyline reflecting through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Out on social media, the argument was becoming messier by the hour.

Some fanatics wanted Professor Kang punished for blasphemy; veterans, students, policy analysts, and ordinary families argued over how much protection was too much and who should control it. Ding-dong. The office's electronic doorbell suddenly rang out in the late night. Sylvia rose from the reception desk and opened the ebony door. She stopped on the threshold, her silver animal ears twitching. She turned back to look at Lucian, her voice grave.

"Lucian..." She stepped aside.

"Professor Kang Min-Jae is out in the hallway, in his wheelchair... asking to see you."