“First…”
A teasing smile tugged at Gilgamesh’s lips.
“We will begin by bringing out a few things.”
Golden ripples spread through the air, and a thick stack of papers appeared before the crowd. Every eye turned toward it at once, each person wondering what their king intended this time.
What appeared before them was—
[BASIC NUMERICAL SYSTEM]
[SIMPLE METHODS FOR PRODUCING VARIOUS CHEMICAL MATERIALS]
[THE MEDIUM OF CIVILIZATION: PAPER AND PRINTING]
[THE THREE-FIELD CROP ROTATION MODEL: FARMERS’ 996]
[THE FEASIBILITY AND IMPLEMENTATION OF MAGICAL ENERGY ENGINES]
That was right—these were the things Gilgamesh had redeemed, and also the first step in what he intended to do next: reform Uruk’s painfully inefficient methods of production.
Though every line had been written in cuneiform, the content itself was utterly incomprehensible, leaving this gathering of men—who all considered themselves the most learned in Uruk—completely dumbfounded.
They passed the thick stack around, each section a separate document, whispering among themselves and trading opinions.
“Has King Gilgamesh had enough peace and quiet? Is he planning to torment us again?”
“No, look at them. These seem to be farming methods. They were probably bestowed by the gods.”
“But aside from the farming part, what are these other things? What do these symbols even mean?”
…
No matter how long they discussed it, in the end they all looked to Siduri, who stood among them flipping through the documents herself.
This, too, was a habit left over from the days when Gilgamesh still ruled as a tyrant. Back then, Siduri had been Uruk’s living political weather vane, because only Siduri could remain constantly at a tyrant’s side and still live so comfortably.
And now, once again, they put their intelligence to full use by handing the problem that actually required intelligence over to Siduri.
When it came to reading the room, who among them was not an old hand?
Though Siduri could not truly make much sense of the contents either, her expression remained calm and unreadable as she lifted her gaze toward Gilgamesh.
Only then did Gilgamesh speak—or rather, he had been waiting for them to ask.
“You have all seen these, yes?”
“Yes, King Gilgamesh.”
As always, Siduri answered for them. Long accustomed to this pattern, she skillfully gave voice to the doubts everyone behind her was holding back.
“King Gilgamesh, please explain what is written on these…”
“Papers.”
“…What is written on this paper?”
Gilgamesh rose from his throne, walked over, and gathered the documents back one by one.
“These are the beginning of civilization. The foundation upon which answers may be built.”
“Answers?”
They exchanged glances.
“King Gilgamesh, we… do not have any questions.”
“Of course you do not. It would be stranger if you did. There are no giants here for you to stand upon the shoulders of.”
After straightening the documents, he handed the complete set to Siduri.
“Then answer me this: why do objects fall downward?”
“…”
Once again, they looked at one another in bafflement. They seemed shocked, and at the same time faintly dazed, as if asking: Why would King Gilgamesh ask something like that?
No, it was not that they failed to understand.
They simply had never possessed such a concept in the first place.
From their point of view, everything they had seen since birth fell from top to bottom. No one had ever thought to ask why.
Was that not simply common sense? And if it was common sense, why would anyone question it?
They could not answer, and worse, they saw no need to.
Seeing their reaction, Gilgamesh froze for a moment, then frowned at them in silence.
A moment later, he exhaled, as though finally realizing something.
“Yes, yes… and to think I actually overlooked that possibility.”
Their reaction was the normal one. If anything, the strange thing was asking why objects fell downward and then seriously trying to investigate it.
Especially in this world—a world where gods existed.
The humans here simply did not have that many questions, because the existence of the gods was itself a master key to every answer.
When they had questions, they prayed to the gods for answers. And even when the gods did not answer, the gods could still be used to explain everything.
When they felt fine rain falling from the sky, they would not think of it as a natural weather phenomenon. They would think Marduk, god of wind and rain, was displaying his authority.
When the sun rose, they would think Shamash, the sun god, was once more crossing the heavens—not that some gigantic ball of fire existed unimaginably far away.
When their crops yielded a good harvest, they would not think they had earned it through labor alone. Rather, they would think they had completed a long chain of rituals—selecting seed, sowing, turning the soil, fertilizing, and finally praying—and that Ishtar, goddess of the harvest, had judged their rites satisfactory and allowed the crops to bloom and bear fruit.
And if the crops failed to bloom and bear fruit, then plainly something in the ritual process had gone wrong.
That was how convenient gods were. Every question the people of this age might possibly have could be explained through divine will, so why bother seeking any other answer?
In Gilgamesh’s original world, where gods most likely did not exist, humanity had still spent a very long age replacing science with theology. How much worse would it be in a world like this, where gods genuinely did exist?
Lift your head to the starry sky, and divinity was everywhere. What room was left for doubt?
Sure enough…
“Well…”
The greatest minds of the age, gathered in the main hall, finally arrived at an answer.
“It may be that the Earth Mother Goddess, in order to prevent humanity from gaining the same power of flight as birds and beasts, exercises divine authority to make objects fall downward.”
The moment one person voiced that answer, every elite present aside from Siduri nodded in agreement.
To them, it was the answer most consistent with their understanding of the world, and therefore the most reasonable one.
And so the gods gained yet another achievement:
PROTECTING BIRDS AND BEASTS FROM HUMAN HUNTING!
“Sigh…”
At the sight of this, Gilgamesh let out another sigh. He understood well enough that he could not blame them for it.
“Enough. Listen carefully.”
He abandoned any thought of making them build a theoretical foundation for now. They simply were not capable of it yet.
“Siduri will make the arrangements. Have the farmers sow according to these methods. It is planting season, so the timing is acceptable.”
“And as for the magical energy engines, have the priests begin researching them. I will provide a finished sample later.”
“The method for making paper and this printing press is written there. Yes, the thing in your hands. Build them.”
“Have the scholars come and collect the papers on mathematics. I have no intention of continuing with the old counting methods.”
“And lastly… leave the ones on physics and planetary geography where they are. You are not ready for them, and even if you read them, you would not reach the correct conclusions.”
Once Gilgamesh assigned their tasks, all their doubts vanished at once.
As expected, what they truly preferred was this kind of brainless command structure.
Watching them depart, Siduri turned to look at Gilgamesh, who had once more taken his seat upon the throne.
At that moment, she had no way of knowing what her king was thinking…
T/N: he really went, nah u guys too ignorant for this
This is a fan translation of 我要往王之财宝里再加点东西 by 海绵宝宝宝宝 Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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