Psychological Counseling

A certain area in the Land of Darkness.

A table, two chairs, and a lamp.

The light was soft, illuminating a small, bright area, while the surrounding area was dim, but not as dark as the outside world.

Across the table, a doctor in a white coat, holding a pen, spoke to the person opposite him:

"This is a routine psychological counseling and therapy session following Trial Instance. Please confide in me, and I will cast some Spells to help stabilize your emotions."

He paused, then adjusted his glasses.

Although given his current Constitution, it's impossible for him to be nearsighted, wearing glasses would make him look more professional.

"The cost of this treatment is 120,000 SC, and the duration is one hour. Additional charges apply for late arrivals. You have already paid half of the deposit."

The person on the other end didn't speak.

It was a man with a weathered face. Thanks to the body repair and extraordinary abilities of all humanity in the early stages of survival, he still had wrinkles and white hair.

That doesn't make sense, unless he has immense sorrow in his heart, and his appearance reflects his inner state, to the point that he deliberately maintains an aged appearance.

The doctor waited a few seconds, and seeing that he didn't react, spoke again:

"Have you finished understanding? Let's begin."

Jabari was finally snapped out of his reverie. He looked up at the doctor across from him, who seemed to only know how to collect fees, and began to doubt the doctor's professionalism.

"No problem," he said. "I've already looked into it."

"Okay." The doctor nodded, a gentle smile appearing on his face, and activated the spell storage Spell. "Then we'll start the timer. You can begin stating your question."

Jabari cleared his throat and gathered his thoughts.

"As you can see," he began, his voice slightly hoarse, "I'm a Black man. I've always been treated unfairly in this area."

"Yes, sir." The doctor's expression remained unchanged, and his tone was calm.

"You might think I'm here to question you about racism or something..." Jabari shook his head, "But that's not my issue today. You're just a doctor; there's no point in saying that."

"Yes, sir," the doctor said calmly, "Thank you very much for your understanding."

Jabari rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together, and pressed them against his forehead, a posture that resembled both prayer and the bearing of some indescribable weight.

"What I wanted to ask today," he said, his voice muffled as it came through his fingers, "Wasn't about racial discrimination. It wasn't."

He looked up at the doctor.

"What I want to ask today is about genocide."

The doctor's smile froze.

"You... what?"

"The regions are divided by country." Jabari ignored his reaction and continued, "Each region initially has a small number of people from other countries. For example, this region was initially mostly inhabited by people from your Mold Country, with a small number from our country—a tiny, insignificant Africa nation."

He has Class Change for five days.

Advanced professional. One of over a hundred advanced professionals in this region.

There are some things he just can't understand.

"Sir," the doctor's tone became cautious, "Please don't say that. Your compatriots simply died in that damned Survival Game. Hatred should be directed at the right person."

"I know very well what the source of hatred is." Jabari's voice was calm, unusually so, "But in my country, basic education is very poor. You know that?"

The doctor was taken aback.

The topic changed a bit too quickly.

After careful consideration, the doctor chose to answer the previous question:

"Clearing out unstable groups is something that happens in all regions of the world. Eliminating Survivor don't belong to one's own country is an inevitable step in the early stages of any region seeking Order during its survival phase. This has nothing to do with basic education."

"I know," Jabari nodded. "I know not only that, but I also know that those areas that fought for Order killed many of their own people. I also know that many areas have now broken free of the Survival Filter and are starting to fight for power and resources. I know all of this."

Jabari's eyes began to bloodshot, and he continued:

"As I just mentioned, my country's basic education is very poor. Do you know what that means?"

The doctor was startled by the unreadable emotion in Jabari's eyes. He subtly increased the power of the calming Spell, then pondered for a moment before tentatively answering:

"Poor basic education... does that mean they can't understand the rules and economic system we've set?"

Jabari shook his head.

"They didn't even live to see you establish Order."

"Poor basic education means a lack of language skills, hindering language learning and subsequent intellectual development, and preventing the establishment of common sense."

"So... intellectual disability?" The doctor couldn't understand what Jabari was trying to say.

"That means they have poor comprehension and poor learning ability. Even if the Survival System directly instills the concepts into them, they still cannot understand key concepts such as 'channel,' 'Monster Tide,' and 'survival'..." Jabari said with sadness in his eyes.

"They won't survive the first week."

"Oh? Is this really that outrageous... My condolences."

The doctor didn't take it too seriously; in this era, everyone experiences sorrow and trauma.

Based on simple average calculations, the extinction of a family member is a highly probable event, with a probability exceeding 95%.

Jabari did not answer.

He simply continued to look at the doctor. There was no anger, no condemnation in his gaze, only a bottomless sorrow.

"Where does the root of Africa's poor basic education system come from," he said softly.

The doctor thought for a while.

"Race," he said, "Geography, economy, social concepts."

You missed one.

Jabari let out a soft breath.

"Colonial Legacy and Great Power Intervention."

"Old and new colonialism are intertwined, and there is no way to turn things around. Imperialists slaughter the noble and allow the despicable to wear the crown. Those who are deliberately left behind are not because they don't want to leave, but because someone doesn't want them to leave."

"Stop! Stop!"

The doctor quickly called for a halt.

"Sir, we shouldn't be discussing the past. We're trying to survive right now; we don't have the energy to delve into sordid history and people who are long dead."

Jabari was indeed quite agitated. His breathing became rapid, the veins on the back of his hands bulged slightly, and the bloodshot in his eyes became more pronounced.

He took a deep breath.

Exhale again.

"I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head. "I lost my composure."