Transmigrated as the Devil of the Meaningless

"What is madness?"

"One could argue that madness occurs when our fragile minds break as we witness an incomprehensible event..."

"But an ant doesn't start babbling when it sees a circuit board."

"They'll find it strange, sure. As to them, it is just a landscape of strange angles and shapes."

"They may be scared, but that is not what one would call madness."

"Madness is when the ant, for a moment, can see as a human does."

"When it suddenly understands that the markings on a circuit board are words, symbols with meaning, like a pheromone but infinitely more complex..."

"The ant will then understand that it can travel unimaginable distances, to lands unlike anything it has ever seen before."

"It will suddenly know of mirth, embarrassment, love, concepts that were unimaginable before that moment, and then... it's an ant again."

"Memories of things it cannot comprehend will stay in its mind."

"It cannot make use of this knowledge, but it will continue to remember it."

"How is it supposed to return to its original life now? The more the ant saw the harder it became for it to forget."

"It will then feel the need to see it again, understand again...."

"And with that driven understanding..."

"It now will do anything to show others, to show itself, that nothing else in this tiny world matters."

"That, ladies and gentlemen, is madness."

The pale young man with black hair offered a small, charming smile as he stepped back from the podium.

The room responded with a warm, thoughtful round of applause.

It wasn't the roar for a joke, but the sound of people who had been quite impressed by the young man's deep thoughts over a topic that had been quite popular amongst the lower class lately.

At a corner table, a couple in their mid-twenties finished clapping.

The woman sipped the last of her drink and signalled to a passing waiter.

"Another two pale ales, please," she said.

As the waiter nodded, she leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"That was incredible. Who is he? He's not the usual Tuesday comic that we come here for..."

The waiter, a practical man with a tray under his arm, shook his head with a grin.

"Not a comic, no. He's actually a last-minute hire."

"Our real entertainer is laid up with a bad case of boiler-flu. The boss was about to just play the gramophone all night when he overheard that young fellow at the bar, talking just like that to his empty glass."

"Boss walked right over, offered him a free supper and a small fee if he'd just get up and talk about anything for a while. The boss said his 'philosophy' would fill the silence better than music so he hired him on the spot until we find a proper replacement."

"Smart boss," the man at the table remarked, watching the young man who was now quietly slipping back towards the bar.

"His philosophy is better than most comedians' punchlines... Makes you look at everything differently."

"I agree with you, it's quite fascinating to listen to the thoughts of those immersed in their intelligence..."

The woman agreed, accepting the fresh ales from the returning waiter.

"Send one of these to him, would you? With our thanks. Tell him his words truly makes a lady ponder over things deeply..."

"Will do," the waiter said, taking one of the glasses.

"A thinker's wage isn't much, so a free drink always helps."

As the waiter headed towards the bar, the couple turned back to each other, their conversation now buzzing with the ideas of ants, circuit boards, and the thin, fragile line between genius and madness.

...

Having been handed a drink, Seth accepted it without hurry.

He took his time with the first sip, letting the warmth settle before swallowing.

The taste was rough but familiar, so he didn't mind it.

It had already been a few days since Phoebe's arrest, and during that time, Seth had not encountered any direct trouble.

He often checked his fate using [Fate Consumption], and there seemed to be no strange forces that were manipulating his life as of lately...

Things had been… quiet.

Seth had come up with two reasonable explanations.

First, with Phoebe now in the custody of the Coven of Solace, the powerful beings that had been using her as a pawn were lying low.

Their tool was under direct scrutiny, so making another move right now would be too risky for them.

Second, and more importantly, was the blessing he had received from Lady Light's power over "secrets."

Seth believed it was actively concealing his fate.

If others could not easily see the threads of his destiny, they could not so easily pull them.

He had also noticed a positive side effect.

The power of "secrets" seemed to have made his [Null Presence] skill better.

His existence seemed even more muted, as if he were erased.

His quiet thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a new patron.

A woman had walked in a few minutes prior and now stood surveying the room.

Her long silver hair was tied in a neat bun beneath a plain hat, and her dress was simple, like that of any local...

But two details betrayed her.

First, her boots were made of fine, supple leather, polished to a subtle shine—expensive and utterly out of place in a bar like this.

Second, a brawny man lingered near the door, dressed casually but with eyes that never stopped moving, constantly scanning the crowd.

He was obviously a bodyguard, and a poorly concealed one at that.

But perhaps it was done on perhaps to avoid certain trouble... to let people know that they were people not to be trifled with.

Seth's gaze returned to the woman.

She had round, plump cheeks and skin that looked well-cared-for, speaking of good food and regular grooming.

'Not a commoner,' he concluded.

A certain memory seemed to click in his head.

The silver hair… the tentative posture… It was the girl from the Black Lantern gathering, the one who had nervously asked how to become a witch.

His suspicion was confirmed when she approached a table of four people near him.

Her voice, clear and a little too earnest, carried across the room.

"Excuse me," she asked, "is this the table for the group posted on the enthusiast boards?"

It was definitely her...

That same soft, innocent tone from the secret meeting.

Seth took another slow drink, his watchful eyes missing nothing.