Chapter 86: Why Life Laughs
Rekka popped the tab on a fresh bottle of cola, the carbonation fizzing sharply in the quiet of his room. He settled into his desk chair, his gaze locking onto the bizarre anomaly resting on the wood.
The shard of Aha's Laughter.
It defied conventional physics. He could pick it up, feel its weight, and set it back down, yet it wasn't truly a physical object. It was a localized phenomenon, a glitch in reality masquerading as a solid item with a deeply strange nature.
"What happens if I just..." Rekka muttered, taking a slow sip of his soda. "...stick my hand right in?"
He boldly thrust his hand forward.
A dizzying rush of displaced air swallowed his senses. The quiet hum of the Astral Express vanished, replaced instantly by a cacophony of noise. Rekka blinked, his vision adjusting to the dim, warm lighting of a sprawling, chaotic establishment. He stood right at the main entrance, swiveling his head to take in the architecture.
Uproarious laughter echoed from the rafters. People in extravagant, theatrical attire were practically howling at the tables.
So, this place must be deeply tied to the Elation, right?
Before he could even take a full step inside, a swarm of Masked Fools descended upon him. They giggled, snickered, and fired off a barrage of rapid-fire, nonsensical questions.
Rekka answered them with his usual deadpan logic. Instead of boring them, his completely normal responses triggered explosive, belly-aching guffaws. The Fools clutched their stomachs, tears streaming down their masked faces. Rekka just stood there, his brow furrowing. He couldn't fathom what the punchline was supposed to be.
He planted his feet at the entrance of The Tavern, crossing his arms as he analyzed the hysterical crowd.
"So," he asked flatly, "what exactly are you all laughing at?"
"Hahahahahaha!" One Fool practically collapsed against a pillar. "Did you hear him? He's asking what we're laughing at!"
"Laughing at what? At you, of course!" another shrieked, slapping their knee.
"A fresh face walking in here and asking so seriously what's so funny—isn't that just the most hilarious thing in the universe?"
Rekka's frown deepened. He mentally rewound the last two minutes, ensuring he hadn't missed a single detail since crossing the threshold. He hadn't tripped. He hadn't told a joke. No slapstick routines had occurred. These people were losing their minds purely because a guy with a serious expression had walked through the front door. That was the entire joke.
"So you're just laughing at me?" he pressed.
"Exactly!"
"Because it's funny?"
"Of course it's funny!"
"Why is it funny?"
"Because you're asking so seriously!"
The laughter surged around him like crashing waves. Fools were rolling on the floorboards, pounding their fists against the sticky tavern tables, gasping for air.
Rekka observed them with cold clarity. These Masked Fools paraded under the banner of Elation, yet they didn't even comprehend the root of their own amusement. They were merely repeating the mechanical act of seeking a high, using sensory overload to numb their underlying emptiness. It wasn't joy. It was an addiction, fundamentally no different from a drunkard drowning their sorrows in cheap ale.
Laughter had devolved into a base, instinctive reflex for them. It didn't stem from genuine, heartfelt joy; it was just a physical spasm triggered by visual stimuli. Rekka was absolutely certain that if one of these Fools suddenly dropped dead on the floor right now, the rest would just cackle twice, point fingers at the corpse, and wander off to find the next distraction.
This place isn't the Elation at all, Rekka mused.
He recalled the lore text from the game. The Masked Fools were supposed to be sophisticated, chaotic, yet philosophically grounded in their pursuit of amusement. The reality before him was a massive disappointment. No wonder Sampo had warned him. That sly merchant had explicitly told Rekka he wouldn't fit in at The Tavern, suggesting he stick to the Astral Express.
Standing amidst the howling crowd, Rekka felt no Elation. He only felt the suffocating weight of the Nihility.
True Elation was supposed to be a form of optimistic nihilism—a conscious acknowledgment that the universe was inherently void of objective meaning, yet choosing to rebel against that void by actively creating joy. It was about viewing the emptiness as a blank canvas for absolute freedom, actively bestowing meaning upon a meaningless world.
This? This was just hollow noise.
The tidal wave of giggles washed over him, failing to draw even a smirk to his lips. His thoughts drifted to Sampo. That blue-haired scammer could lie as easily as breathing, yet Sampo possessed a core of genuine character. He knew when to pull his punches around children, he offered a hand when the chips were truly down, and he actually delivered results when paid.
Yeah, I definitely gave the average Masked Fool too much credit, Rekka thought.
The laughter of these people grated on his ears, sounding faker than the pre-recorded canned laugh tracks in ancient sitcoms.
He walked straight up to the bar, ignoring the snickering patrons flanking him.
"A glass of milk, please."
He delivered the line with absolute deadpan sincerity, paying the ultimate homage to the legendary duelist Yusei Fudo.
The bartender paused mid-wipe, staring at Rekka for two agonizingly long seconds. Then, without a single word, the man turned, popped open a mini-fridge, retrieved a fresh carton of milk, and poured it into a heavy glass tumbler. He slid it across the polished wood.
Even though Rekka refused to crack a smile, the crowd had already crowned him the most fascinating Fool in the room. Everything he did—even ordering dairy at a dive bar—sent them into hysterics.
Rekka slowly swiveled around on his barstool, gently swirling the white liquid in his glass.
"Your jokes," he announced, his voice slicing through the noise, "seriously lack class."
The laughter hitched for a fraction of a second.
"Stuff like kicking a cripple's good left leg today, and then targeting their right leg tomorrow..." Rekka shook his head in mock disappointment. "Don't bother serving up such low-level trash."
Setting his milk down, Rekka turned and marched right back out the main entrance. A few moments later, he returned, dragging a metallic chassis through the doorway.
If these people wanted dry humor, he would bring them the ultimate authority.
The robot, affectionately named Shut Up, whirred to life. Its slender mechanical arm lifted, striking a flawless imitation of 'The Thinker' statue. Its optical sensors glowed.
Then, the machine began to broadcast its carefully calculated, bone-dry jokes to the entire tavern.
Thirty minutes later, the atmosphere inside The Tavern had plummeted to absolute zero. Shut Up had successfully frozen the entire establishment solid with its weaponized anti-humor.
Satisfied, Rekka and his robotic companion stepped back through the spatial rift, returning to the warm, familiar comfort of the Astral Express's Parlor Car. Shut Up immediately went to work, pouring Rekka another glass of milk.
"I cannot believe I finally received the opportunity to share the comedic material I process daily with such a large audience," Shut Up buzzed, its vocal synthesizer carrying a hint of mechanical pride.
"Yeah," Rekka smirked, taking the glass. "You completely knocked them out of the reincarnation cycle. They were brain-dead by the end of it."
"However, my sensors did not detect any elevated levels of serotonin or joy from the audience," Shut Up noted, its optical lights dimming slightly. "Is it possible that my jokes are... not funny?"
The undisputed master of the dry humor field was actually experiencing mechanical insecurity.
"It's not your problem, buddy," Rekka assured the bot, patting its cold shoulder. "They're the ones with the defective programming."
"What is the logical reasoning behind that conclusion?"
"Those Masked Fools have forgotten why they even laugh in the first place." Rekka sighed, leaning back against the plush sofa. "I used to think the Fools were an overwhelmingly positive faction. Turns out, I was wrong."
His mood had visibly soured.
"Is The Tavern really that boring?" Stelle suddenly leaned over the back of the sofa, her golden eyes blinking curiously. "I heard Himeko mention that The Tavern was the ultimate territory of the Elation."
"It's not fun at all," Rekka replied, shaking his head and setting his empty glass on the coffee table. "You know that canned laughter they use in old television broadcasts? It's exactly like that. They don't even need a proper punchline. They laugh when someone walks through the door. They laugh when someone pours a glass of water. Staying in that room literally made my skin crawl. There was absolutely nothing interesting about it."
Stelle tilted her head, her baseball bat resting casually against her shoulder. "Are there no other people there besides the Masked Fools?"
That simple question struck a chord. Rekka blinked, sitting up straighter.
"You know what? You're entirely right."
The Tavern was a massive hub. There had to be other factions, or at least neutral patrons, lurking in the corners. He didn't have to limit his interactions to the brain-rotted Fools.
"Alright, we can go check it out," Rekka agreed, pointing a stern finger at her. "But you are absolutely not allowed to touch any alcohol. You order milk, just like me. If you drink booze, Himeko is going to give us both a terrifying lecture when we get back."
Stelle offered a crisp, exaggerated salute. "Roger that. Strictly dairy. Commencing Tavern infiltration."
The duo marched back to Rekka's room and approached the shard of Aha's Laughter. They reached out, their fingers brushing the anomaly. After a brief wave of spatial vertigo, the deafening roar of the tavern instantly flooded their eardrums.
Stelle had taken the liberty of swiping Rekka's personal Fool Mask beforehand, strapping it securely over her face. She looked every bit the part of a genuine Masked Fool.
Splitting a single Fool's identity so two people could use it simultaneously? Completely reasonable logic.
As the spatial distortion faded, they found themselves standing at the entrance. The surrounding patrons immediately stopped their previous conversations, turning their masked faces toward the newcomers and erupting into unprompted, hysterical giggles.
Stelle shifted her weight, leaning close to Rekka's ear.
"Okay," she whispered, her tone entirely deadpan. "The way they just stare at us and laugh for absolutely no reason is, in fact, incredibly creepy."
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