The Naive Anthropologist

The young girl paused, then looked up and asked, "What is anthropology, Director?"

"It's a field of study, Hesta," Elma said gently. "I don't know much about it myself, only that their research topics involve human culture, social structures, institutional ethics, and so on... Before the Great Blackout Era, it was a very prosperous branch of social science."

"Is that so?" Hesta's gaze returned to the book. "So what would they do every day?"

Elma thought for a moment, concentrating. "...I imagine, as the cover says, they would go into the Wasteland."

Hesta blinked. "Like us, did they go foraging for wild vegetables every day?"

Director Elma shook her head. "They would explore ancient tribes and live and converse with people in the jungle, trying to understand their culture. Sometimes, anthropologists would also visit cave sites where primitive people lived... They are the ones who try to explain where human civilization began and where it will end."

Hesta eagerly flipped through the old book in front of her. "Did they find the answers?"

"Hmm... how should I put it?" Elma smiled. "It's not something that can be explained in just a few words."

"But Miss Gerdin said that only lies are complicated, and truth is always simple, requiring no excessive embellishment," Hesta looked up again. "Is that right?"

Elma chuckled again. "Yes, Jane... Miss Gerdin is certainly right."

The old woman reached out and quickly turned to the appendix at the end of the book. "But I just read an answer this morning, perhaps not so concise... Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes!" Hesta answered loudly.

The old woman hugged the girl again, to prevent the restless child from sliding off her lap. She held Hesta's fingers, guiding her to read the sentences in the book little by little.

The abstruse, advanced vocabulary in the book made young Hesta frown, her fingers moving slowly across the page like a snail.

Elma read softly, "Many years ago, someone asked the anthropologist Mina Delid which clue, among all current archaeological discoveries, best marked the birth of human civilization.

"People expected her to talk about stone tools, cave paintings, or fossilized grains with traces of cooking, but Ms. Delid did not.

"She said the first sign of civilization should be a fractured and healed femur."

Hesta looked up. "What's a femur, Director?"

"It's the thigh bone." Elma gently patted Hesta's thigh. "It's right here."

Hesta lowered her head again and began to read the next passage herself: "Ms. Delid said that in the Wasteland, an animal... an animal that breaks its leg will always die quickly... They either die of thirst, hunger, or they quickly become prey for other predators. And if they have to forage and avoid danger, then... their femur injury cannot heal.

"However, we did find a femur that had been broken and healed, which means... someone spent a long time... caring for him.

"They stopped his bleeding... they stabilized his wound, took him to a safe place, and... shared food and water with him.

"When we... are... in difficult circumstances, but... can still... help each other, this is... the beginning of civilization."

"Yes, Jane." Elma smiled and hugged Hesta tightly. "When we are in difficult circumstances, but can still help each other, this is the beginning of our civilization."

Hesta felt enveloped in a warm embrace, and she smiled too.

But everything around her suddenly changed—the warm afternoon sun rapidly dissipated, the tidy desk instantly became dusty, the daylight dimmed, and a familiar fear surfaced in Hesta's heart. She lowered her head and saw that Director Elma's arms, which were holding her, were once again wrapped in bandages.

"..."

"Eat." A familiar voice turned cold, and a bandaged hand suddenly reached into Hesta's mouth. "Eat it—"

At the peak of her terror, everything abruptly stopped.

She suddenly felt profound pain, as if every joint, every inch of her skin, was burning with torment—Hesta finally realized she had been immersed in a dream, and in the dream, she had returned to that afternoon a few years ago when she read with Director Elma.

The loving old woman and the figure of the Chelated Being intertwined in her mind... Which one was the dream?

She adjusted her breathing slightly, trying to sit up, but soon found it difficult—she was blindfolded, and although she couldn't see, Hesta could still feel bright lights above her head, along with the smell of disinfectant.

"Are you awake?" A female voice suddenly sounded in her ear, catching her off guard. "Don't move, don't open your eyes. You're in the hospital now, you're safe."

Hesta's body trembled—

"Relax, breathe," the voice said again. "Don't be afraid, this pain is normal. The Chelated Being's blood splattered into your eyes, so we did some treatment. The gauze on your eyes will need to stay on for a while."

Hesta wanted to speak, but the sound that came out was a murmur she couldn't even hear herself, accompanied by equally severe throat pain.

"Do you want to talk? If so, move your fingers."

Hesta's ten fingers all stretched slightly.

The woman chuckled. "The doctor said your throat has slight acid corrosion, possibly from biting the Chelated Being. They've already applied medicine, and you should be back to normal by tomorrow."

Hesta listened quietly.

This woman's voice was different from Elma's and Miss Gerdin's—her speaking speed was fast, her tone always flat, and every sentence she spoke ended abruptly and crisply, without any drawn-out sounds or unnecessary tonal changes.

Hesta heard the sound of a chair being dragged beside her, and the woman sat down by her bed.

"I know you probably have a lot of questions, and I'll answer them once you've fully recovered. For now, could you please answer a few questions for me? Of course, you only need to answer 'yes' or 'no'—if it's yes, don't move; if it's no, move your fingers. Did I make myself clear?"

Hesta didn't move.

"Good." The woman smiled. "Then let's begin... Is your name Jane Hesta?"

"Were you born in the Wasteland south of Tanyi City, around Duanming Alley?"

"Were you born in the year 4612, making you 11 this year, and did Sister Gerdin admit you to Saint Anne Abbey in 4620—the year you turned 8, correct?"

"And..." Chiba paused for a moment. "Are you a Hesta person from District 14?"

Hesta's fingers suddenly moved.

The woman glanced at Hesta. "Do you want to answer 'no' or 'I don't know'? If it's no, keep moving your finger. If you don't know, don't move."

Hesta became quiet—"I don't know."

The woman waited for a while, and seeing no movement from Hesta, she lowered her head and chuckled, "Haha, there's actually no suspense about this question. Who else would have such red hair besides the Hesta people? But since you don't even know if you're a Hesta person, who gave you that surname?"

Hesta couldn't answer, only silence.

"Then I understand, those are pretty much all my questions." The woman said softly, and only the rustling of her pen remained in the room. After a while, she spoke again, "Oh, right, about the abbey, there are some things I can tell you now if you'd like to hear them? If you want to hear, move your finger."