After seeing the second team off, Luna began recruiting the third team. This team's mission wasn't exploration of the cosmos, but scholars within the Mobius Ringworld.
The concept of "scholar" is broad; some research history, others biology, physics, linguistics…
For classification, Luna planned to invite several key figures to simultaneously conduct interviews and storytelling.
Of course, some individuals within the Federation had attempted similar projects before. These programs received decent feedback, yet none achieved widespread success; this niche remained untapped.
The reason is simple: for scholars, scientific research is paramount. If they dedicate themselves to broadcasting, it significantly reduces their research time—especially considering the Federation's lifespan limitations.
Scholars themselves cannot constantly handle this type of work, while ordinary people lack access to scholars at this level. Even if they did, it would only be a few, not a large group; those who could access high-ranking scholars generally didn't need the money.
Luna's production model fundamentally doesn't generate significant income. The Federation is vast, unlike the stagnant world of the 21st century, where fan economics could catapult someone from rags to riches. That's not the case now; content is abundant, avenues are wide, and fan economics has weakened, fading into general professions.
Live streaming, while capable of generating income many times higher than average salaries, is far from sufficient for true entry into the Federation's upper echelons.
Based on Luna's understanding, under Ayla's regulatory control, the Federation, over millennia, has reverted to its original social structure. Society is largely stable, and large corporations are burgeoning like mushrooms after a rain, with the approximate wealth threshold for a tycoon being 1 billion Energy Credits.
Capital leverages resources on a massive scale, inaccessible to ordinary citizens who lack even the means to contact these resources. This creates economic stagnation, keeping living standards relatively low.
Of course, numerous regulatory controls contribute to this.
For the Federation, population pressure is nonexistent. No citizen starves, lacks entertainment, or encounters squalor like the L28309 cleanup zone.
The Federation largely distributes energy-based, automated jobs to citizens. As mentioned before, a citizen's work often involves only moving a finger; machines handle the rest.
However, machines are now fully intelligent, eliminating the need for manual labor. A single Boundary God could complete all work within a star system. Federation jobs are merely for the sake of having jobs.
Ayla is currently seeking solutions for the Federation's new social structure, searching for ways to engage this underutilized population and contribute to the Federation's progress.
Luna's current company is an experiment; she isn't genuinely playing games.
The explorer stories aim to promote exploration, encouraging more people to become explorers. Now, Luna wants to tell scholar stories, encouraging more people to become scholars. However, both options have thresholds, only allowing a limited number of people to participate and failing to effectively utilize the entire Federation's population.
This is the fundamental societal problem facing the Federation.
Machines replacing human labor is inevitable, but human labor itself lacks application. Many imagine personalized product sales, but in reality, this is controlled by trends. The creation of trends inevitably leads to monopolies, limiting personalized products and suppressing human creativity.
As personalized products increase, they tend to become refined, benefiting only a few.
This seems to be a basic societal rule.
A civilization's advancement necessitates competition, as competition generates superior products instead of redundant ones.
Conversely, competition concentrates wealth in the hands of a few, leaving the majority to follow trends and abandon personalization in favor of mainstream products.
"Societal problems are far more difficult to solve than scientific and technological ones."
Luna believes that breaking through these societal limitations would propel the Federation into a more efficient social model, enabling a leap in civilizational advancement.
21st-century humanity also faced this problem, though theirs was a future problem, while Luna's was present.
The Federation's breakthroughs have always relied on explorers and scholars. In reality, even discarding the vast majority of the Federation's population, the Federation could still function—that's the reality.
Luna saw the third storytelling team arrive and rose to greet them.
Among them was a Human, someone Luna found somewhat familiar.
Due to their status as the Federation's primary species, Humans were the top choice during the Olive Branch Civilization's life transfer, resulting in a high Human population within the Federation.
"Your mission details are on the table; please take a look."
The eleven team members examined the mission briefs, letting out surprised exclamations.
"So we're going to interview scholars?"
For the Federation's lower classes, scholars occupy a high position. Even non-ranked Federation scholars earn significantly more than the average citizen.
This is like a 21st-century average person hearing that someone holds a doctorate and works at a research institute or government agency—someone outside the general population.
It sounds impressive.
In this era, this disparity is even greater. The sheer number of ordinary people, coupled with the high pressure and fierce competition among scholars themselves, results in constant internal competition—eliminating the weak and promoting the strong. Even the pressure on a non-ranked scholar exceeds that of a student facing a high-stakes exam.
They undergo constant evaluations at each stage of their lives. Failure results in the revocation of their scholar credentials and the loss of their scholar status.
Each evaluation covers cutting-edge knowledge; scholars must continuously learn advanced knowledge to pass these assessments.
This disparity makes Luna incredibly excited to interview these eleven individuals.
However, someone asked: "Is this really possible?"
"Scholars must be very difficult to meet; they're incredibly busy."
The public is aware of the pressure on scholars. Being a scholar in the Federation feels like entering hell. Some potential scholars even choose to relax at home due to the Federation's lack of survival pressure.
After all, scholars' salaries aren't high, while even the most menial Federation jobs offer monthly incomes of tens of thousands.
When everyone earns tens of thousands a month, who would willingly engage in brutal internal competition for a salary of only a few thousand?
Even if a scholar's salary could reach millions, the difference between a life of tens of thousands and a life of millions is essentially negligible.
However, precisely because of this, scholars represent the elite.
They are rigorously selected and thrust into fierce competition.
"Of course, it's possible. You will see not just one scholar, but many, many scholars."
"Our first target is the Thunderbolt Causality Weaponry Research Facility. They've been making waves lately and could be a source of significant viewership."
Luna smiled, observing their excited faces. Ordinary people clearly found the field of scholarship fascinating.
The threshold for becoming a Federation scholar is incredibly high. Similar to the 21st-century Entrance Examination, with a total score of 100, a perfect 100 is required for certification; 99.99 won't suffice. Scores of 95 or even 90 are considered genius-level, but scholars require geniuses among geniuses.
Despite this rigorous system, the number of scholars remains substantial.
Over millennia, the number of Federation scholars, starting from zero, has skyrocketed to 4.6 billion.
This is due to the Federation's auxiliary brain technology, along with quark robots and psionic training, which enhance memory capabilities to extraordinary levels. Much existing knowledge is stored in the auxiliary brain as an easily accessible library.
Therefore, achieving a perfect score isn't necessarily as difficult as it sounds, although compared to the Federation's population, only tens of thousands produce a single scholar.
Over 92% of these scholars are one-star scholars. Once they enter the scholar stage, evaluations shift from theoretical to theoretical and practical combined. High theoretical scores won't suffice; low practical scores result in expulsion. This creates a cycle of scholars taking and failing exams, a "scholar bug."
The Federation allows this type of individual to exist, but those stripped of their scholar credentials are prohibited from taking the scholar exam for five years. Theoretically, this creates a cycle where individuals are scholars for one year and non-scholars for five.
"You all graduated from the new journalism program. As long as you aren't nervous, you should be able to handle this," Luna asked.
This group differs from previous recruits; they're journalism majors. Journalism in the Federation is essentially a useless profession; those who don't do well in exams often end up in this program just for the diploma.
Upon entering the workforce, job prospects are extremely limited, leading many to change careers and become like ordinary citizens, working for companies pushing buttons all day.
Journalism's status in the modern Federation is similar to that of a mid-level vocational school on Earth.
Despite being university degrees, these programs in the Federation have excellent curriculum and instruction. Even the useless majors require effort to graduate.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Everyone nodded in unison, fearful of missing this opportunity.
This truly suits their profession, offering a glimmer of hope.
Luna pointed to the Human among them, a petite, sweet 1.84-meter-tall girl with a delicate appearance. "Sei, right? You'll be the team leader; arrange the tasks."
The other ten showed sympathy for this Human; their boss was really setting up their own kind for a fall.
The team leader position offers only two additional Energy Credits compared to the others, but significantly more responsibilities.
Sei, with a harmless demeanor, smiled, revealing two small dimples, and accepted Luna's appointment. Only Luna knew that this woman was the most dangerous in the group because she was a participant in Mortality Selection.
In Mortality Selection, she killed mercilessly, more like a butcher than a butcher.
Luna selected her and others as top performers in Mortality Selection. They weren't simply recruited for Luna's tasks; they needed identities in the real world, and Luna provided them.
Within the Federation, they remain loyal, as the Federation's surveillance is pervasive. Every citizen's life is controlled, preventing these Mortality Selection participants from causing real-world chaos; their only outlet for unrestrained killing is the vast cosmos.
The choice stemmed from Mortality Selection veterans' adaptability and unpredictability; they've experienced countless worlds and played countless roles, making them resourceful and highly efficient.
"Your interview program will be called "Approaching Scholars", start compiling your questions; don't be afraid to aim for hundreds, then submit them to me for selection."
"This is your training. The people at the weapons research facility know you're coming and will cooperate fully."
Luna produced a small orb, saying, "This is UU. It will accompany you during filming; its filming techniques are perfect."
An AI photographer capable of flight, it has perfectly replaced all human photographers. It was alike the orbs deployed when Luna and Ayla investigated the Light-based civilization ruins.
UU flew in front of Sei, then landed on her shoulder, the large white orb looking quite harmonious.
"Get to work then; I have things to do."
Luna's next task was finding a skilled artist to promote the program and ensure its initial success.
Federation artists include singers, dancers, actors, musicians, and painters; anyone working in the arts is considered an artist. Singers are the most popular, as they're not limited by physical appearance, and the emotions conveyed through singing are straightforward.
Luna chose the famous female singer in the Mobius Ringworld—Aurel Seren.
The name suggests a Human.
The Federation has countless singers, but Humans make up the vast majority, as the Federation's current aesthetics are Human-centric. The language is Human, and so is the beauty of the songs. Human citizens find it easier to understand and appreciate, while it's more difficult for other species.
In the old Federation, art from other species gradually entered the mainstream. However, the old Federation's destruction caused a rupture in the artistic field.
Most of the new Federation are life forms transferred from the Olive Branch Civilization; they initially lacked artistic understanding, developing it only through post-revival cultivation.
Luna wouldn't hire a singer to perform a song for her program; she would only leverage the singer's existing popularity for promotional purposes, essentially using them for an advertisement.
She could directly use the advertising company for blatant promotion, but that would seem arrogant, as if capital were manipulating things, potentially causing resentment.
Luna called the management company, and they requested an in-person meeting.
Conveniently, Luna also planned to observe the Federation's entertainment industry. She'd heard that Aurel was beautiful; she saw her information during a routine check, but only text, not pictures.
...
Luna visited the management company, one of the Federation's largest. According to Luna's understanding, this company's operations are extensive, not only cultivating singers but also organizing numerous programs and acting as a livestreaming agency with over a million contracted streamers.
Live streaming necessitates product sales; most of this company's streamers are of the sales variety, supporting the company's profits.
The company's current market value reaches 23.7 billion Energy Credits, qualifying it as a large corporation.
However, the Federation has specific definitions for companies, corporations, and capital. A market value exceeding a trillion qualifies as a corporation; a hundred trillion qualifies as capital.
These aren't official regulations but commonly agreed-upon conventions.
This is because, once assets surpass a hundred trillion Energy Credits, a company can manipulate a star system's economy.
A star system typically has between 0.5 and 3 trillion inhabitants. A hundred-trillion-Energy-Credit company could pay everyone in the star system several months' worth of salaries, equivalent to a trillion-dollar company in Earth's era.
The Federation currently lacks companies considered capital; however, corporations have begun to emerge, with several in most star systems.
This is all thanks to Ayla's support. After the rebuilding of the new Federation, Ayla skillfully transferred massive financial resources from basic infrastructure to Federation citizens. The Federation's entertainment infrastructure is largely based in virtual worlds, with 90% less physical entertainment equipment in the real world compared to the old Federation.
For the Federation, the transition from old to new has changed many things, making society more regulated.
The Federation's current tycoons weren't appointed by Luna and Ayla but emerged from natural competition. Individuals transferred from the Olive Branch Civilization underwent intense competition, and a few intelligent and lucky ones rose to create the Federation's current structure.
In Luna's view, this is similar to Earth from the 1980s to the early 21st century, where some seized opportunities and soared, while most faded into obscurity.
These companies will experience rises and falls. To become true capital, they must expand beyond a single star system, becoming truly interstellar corporations.
Such companies were rare in the old Federation, but in the new Federation, Ayla and Luna chose to foster the growth of more interstellar corporations, at least one per star system.
The rise of these companies could significantly impact the lives of ordinary citizens, possibly creating a new system.
Otherwise, life in this era would be characterized by aimlessness and excessive entertainment.
For ordinary citizens, this might not be bad; however, Luna's goal is to provide pathways for advancement and self-actualization, opportunities currently scarce in the Federation.
Parking on the lower level, a Lightwing arrived to greet Luna.
Due to their intellect, Lightwings are well-suited for mathematics but often choose hospitality because of their radiant appearance.
Hundred-Together Strings.
That's the company's name.
It's located in Dukasi, a city within the Mobius Ringworld, ranked outside the top 100 and not a major metropolis.
The company occupies seven ten-thousand-square-meter skyscrapers connected at their peaks by a glass walkway. The central building is taller, its highest point being the company's reception area, where Luna arrived.
Reception staff were simulated bio-androids, chosen to match Luna's Human identity.
The interior was vibrant and dazzling. Luna discussed business with management; the company was straightforward; money solved everything, and Luna's payment was prompt.
However, her main purpose was to meet the Mobius Ringworld's top singer.
Luna was led to a recording studio where Aurel was singing, apparently a new song. She wore a snow-white gown with an ancient style, slightly modernized, featuring silver armor plating underneath, a blend of soft elegance and futuristic armor.
Her figure was tall, slender, and well-proportioned; Luna estimated she was half a head taller. Her straight hair reached her waist, adorned with glittering ornaments. Luna's gaze finally settled on her face—phoenix eyes and elegant brows. The outfit suited her perfectly; she was a classic beauty, reminiscent of a wuxia film.
Luna saw a small orb in the recording studio, likely filming an MV.
What pleased Luna was her aloof demeanor, like a white lotus on a high plateau.
"Aurel actually enjoys scientific things, so she readily agreed to promote your program after receiving your request."
"You can set a time for the promotion; we can run the advertisement during Aurel's livestream."
Luna nodded. "Alright, I'll be going then."
Luna left without resting for half an hour. She had no romantic intentions; as a biologist, she'd dissected countless female bodies, precluding any purely physical considerations.
Luna's visit was primarily about understanding the differences in the modern Federation.
As a businesswoman, she could learn about the Federation's upper echelons from the bottom up, gaining insights from her interactions and conversations that those in higher positions might miss.
This was merely a side benefit.
In the car, Luna played music—Aurel's song.
She wasn't just a pretty face; she received high praise for her vocal technique and skill, particularly her emotional expression; every song seemed to capture a specific emotional point perfectly.
This was unsurprising, given the intense competition she faced to become a successful singer.
Luna reflected on her previous biases: "Some professions I considered ordinary might not be; they influence the Federation in different ways. I can approach things from these angles, rather than expecting all citizens to engage in research and exploration…"
Position dictates perspective.
From her lofty position, Luna only saw countless skyscrapers, unable to notice events hidden from view. This was a valuable reminder; for Luna, this trip had been fruitful.
"I think there's a saying, 'Ordinary yet great!'"
Luna reflected on how true ordinariness could give rise to greatness.
...
How do ordinary people live in this era?
Luna pondered this question after returning to the company.
She only saw glimpses of ordinary lives—lives without waves, filled with work, entertainment, work, entertainment, in an endless cycle. Luna had never witnessed true greatness.
"Perhaps I haven't gotten close enough."
Luna found her plan to experience ordinary life somewhat ironic. Opening a company already placed her above most, though she considered it commonplace.
Previously, she listened to others' stories, but these were merely narratives, not actual lives.
Everyone possesses unique life patterns; only close proximity reveals them.
Therefore, Luna found a shared apartment, a common choice in the city.
Although land is abundant in the Mobius Ringworld, urban space remains limited, concentrating most people in cities. They can't all afford desirable locations, making shared housing a cost-effective option.
The Federation has varied living standards. In less-developed areas, one can afford housing, and even average salaries leave significant savings. However, in major cities, salaries barely cover expenses.
Seeing this, Luna realized that Federation society itself was already engaging in internal competition—a natural phenomenon, not a result of regulation.
From a higher vantage point, the vast majority of people remain complacent.
However, some in the Federation strive for more.
"Even on the battlefield, I was reminded that my vision was limited. I seem to have repeated the same mistake."
Human nature dictates that after falling at one point, one may fall again in a different place, simply because the circumstances are different.
As Luna reflected, someone entered—a Waterfolk. Enclosed in a glass sphere, with robotic arms on either side, and supported by a circular platform, it levitated.
"Hello, you must be my roommate." The Waterfolk seemed sociable.
"Yes, I just arrived. Choose a room."
"We'll have another roommate. By the way, my name is Luna."
Luna never hides her name. The Federation is vast; time spans are long, and even renowned figures fade into obscurity.
"I'm Lideluri. I know who our other roommate is—a virtual being. I think he's too old; we probably won't have much to talk about."
Virtual beings are second-generation; theoretically, they are over a hundred years old. For long-lived species, it could be thousands of years, plus psionic abilities, making several thousand years quite common.
"But I think I should learn more about life in virtual worlds. I heard the number of virtual worlds in Alpha Eridani has exceeded two billion."
Lideluri nodded. "Who wouldn't? A friend of mine created a popular virtual world and bought a house in Raksha. I'm envious, but not everyone has that ability. I've created many virtual worlds, but none have gained traction."
"Those worlds, which I poured my heart and soul into, were shut down due to lack of users after a decade. Now, all that remains is data. I could restart them, but it would be too expensive."
Virtual worlds in the Federation are free to create, but each subsequent virtual world incurs a fee.
Virtual worlds are categorized by size: small (100 million km²), medium (1 billion km²), large (10 billion km²), and corporate-level worlds.
"So you came here to find work?"
"Work in major cities is more competitive than elsewhere. Why not just relax?" Luna asked.
Lideluri instructed his accompanying robot to move his belongings into the apartment, then let the robot automatically arrange the furniture according to his pre-programmed plan. He paused before replying to Luna: "Relax?"
"It seems to be a popular term online, but for me, most people have striven at some point, but their efforts yielded no results, so they chose to relax."
"After all, this is the space age; who wants to be confined to a small city?"
"But, to put it another way, it's not the Federation's fault. Most people oversimplify effort. They want success in this world by comparing themselves to others, not by comparing their current efforts to past efforts. That's what striving really means."
"To achieve more in this society, one must compare one's efforts to those of others. Most people don't realize that their competitors have been striving since age five, or even younger—striving for twenty, fifty, even a hundred years. Their competitors are those individuals."
"I understand. So I strive. I may not achieve results in a hundred years, or even five hundred, but I feel satisfied with the effort. I have no regrets."
Lideluri possessed a unique understanding of the world and effort.
Luna gained significant insight from his words.
That's right!
She hadn't considered it.
The greatest appeal of this era is the vast cosmos, but the threshold for entering space is too high.
"Ayla, I think we should usher in a new Federation era. Interstellar connections must be rapidly established. The driving force will always be the lure of a broader world, not artificial creations."
"Federation starships are fast enough. The fastest, I recall, reach one-fifth the speed of light, making travel between star systems take only twenty to thirty years, right?"
"Perhaps this is a solution."
Ayla constantly monitors Luna, receiving this message immediately.
"Indeed, too many are confined to small areas. We never considered this before."
"Vastness inspires, but limitations are like shackles. But Luna, even with open interstellar travel, time itself remains a barrier. Ordinary people won't spend decades traveling to an unknown place. We can't use tourism to connect star systems; we need a more normalized approach."
Normalization…
What could that be?
...
"If I strive, this city won't be my end. I want to explore the vast cosmos and uncover its mysteries."
Lideluri, seeing his belongings arranged, turned to Luna. "Which virtual world do you play in?"
Luna shook her head. "I don't play virtual worlds."
Lideluri was astonished.
"There are still people who don't play virtual worlds…?"
Virtual worlds are an indispensable part of this era. Everyone spends considerable time in them, as one can do anything, with more freedom than in reality.
"How about it? Want to try one?" Lideluri, a smooth talker, probed.
Luna considered it, then agreed.
Modern virtual connections require no external devices. Simply connect the auxiliary brain to the virtual world, transfer consciousness into the auxiliary brain, and one appears directly within the virtual world.
It had been a long time since Luna had entered a virtual world. She recalled her last conversation with Ayla about virtual world development: virtual worlds should involve more ordinary people, not just a few main worlds.
What are virtual worlds like now?
Before her eyes even opened, Luna felt a breeze on her face. Opening her eyes, she found herself in a two-dimensional world, with the image quality resembling something printed on toilet paper.
She'd transformed into a two-dimensional character—something Luna hadn't anticipated.
She checked her backpack; it was empty, her level the lowest, 1. People bustled around, their voices clamoring, though Luna could tell they were all AIs, not real people.
According to Ayla's data, the AI-to-human ratio in virtual worlds is 100:1. For every human, the system creates 100 AIs. This is strictly enforced, even for personally created worlds. Regular logins are required to gain AI creation rights; a single creator can only populate a world with 100 AIs.
That's a lot. Old games didn't have 100 NPCs. Well-made virtual worlds create a good cycle; poorly made ones waste resources.
This world's high AI population must indicate something unique.
"Beep beep beep!"
A system message arrived; it was from Lideluri.
They'd exchanged contact information before entering, the same method working within the virtual world.
"I'm at Sky City, Island 14. Where are you?"
Luna checked the map. "Island 7."
"Wait, I'll teleport."
Soon, a white pillar of light appeared in the city, and a dog ran towards her.
"Luna, it's Lideluri."
Luna, seeing Lideluri's character, was speechless. "Why are you this character?"
Lideluri replied, "Dogs are a rare race here. I finally managed to change classes. Dogs have yellow-tiered innate abilities. I've played in this world for forty years. What do you think? Cool, huh!"
As a 21st-century person, Luna couldn't comprehend it.
She responded curtly, then asked, "Do you like this style of virtual world?"
Lideluri shook his head. "The graphics are terrible, but virtual worlds prioritize gameplay. This one has many islands, each with unique gameplay, and surrounding areas with dungeons to explore."
"Most importantly, the creators of this virtual world have minimized latency, allowing players across most of Alpha Eridani to play together. In virtual worlds, or games in general, it's not just the graphics that matter; high player numbers are often more attractive."
Lideluri showed Luna around the city. Except for the art style, everything else was well-developed, creating a cohesive world view.
"How many people are in this world?"
"About 190,000."
That's a very high number. While Alpha Eridani's total virtual world population exceeds ten trillion, most are concentrated in major worlds. Personal worlds with 100 players can be profitable, while those with over 10,000 are considered large.
Luna was curious about how this virtual world achieved low latency.
In Alpha Eridani, even within Mobius Ringworld, latency can exceed ten minutes, not to mention outlying Star Cities in other star systems, where it can be several hours.
Major worlds solve this through regional division, preventing players from different regions from entering the same virtual world simultaneously.
"It's simple, actually. They set a high latency for everyone."
"Regardless of location, everyone experiences the same latency. So, effectively, no one experiences latency."
The latency here refers to the average time difference. Every player receives information feedback at the same time, creating absolute fairness.
Even Luna didn't perceive any latency.
The latency was due to a new technique that introduced a lag into the players' consciousness. Theoretically, Luna's thoughts were several minutes behind, though she didn't notice, as her information processing system was masked.
"Such technology still exists."
Luna suddenly remembered the answer to her earlier question.
"In reality, we can't overcome physical limitations. Could virtual worlds be a solution?"
Indeed, virtual world connections couldn't truly allow humanity to reach the stars, but they could link two or more star systems.
"But it would require years of latency," Ayla interjected, cutting off Luna's train of thought.
Years, not minutes or hours.
Hours are tolerable; even days are acceptable to some, but years—the latency would be immense.
"But we have tachyon communication."
"Tachyon communication has existed for a long time, but its applications remain limited to communication. It's too restricted."
"We should explore more applications. If we use tachyon communication in interstellar virtual world construction, even if latency remains, it would be within an acceptable range."
The cost would be high.
Tachyon communication requires significant energy, and creating even a small virtual world demands an enormous amount of data.
Ayla calculated, "It would require over 100,000 tachyon communication devices, Luna."
The entire Federation currently possesses only a few thousand.
"Let's do it. We need to take this step. We deserve a space age. Too many are trapped in small cities; their horizons shouldn't be so limited."
Lideluri, noticing Luna's sudden daze, asked, "What's wrong?"
Luna snapped back to attention. "Nothing. I'm thinking about something that could change the Federation."
Lideluri chuckled, thinking it was a joke, then continued enthusiastically describing the virtual world's attractions…