It seemed so simple, but it was not. Shinbatsu sat in the library staring at the golden disk. For some reason, nobody before him had been told to use it to decode the script, but the village knew that this was its purpose. However, he had not found a way to actually get it to do anything besides be a golden disk. He'd placed it in every conventional electronic device to try to get it to work, and it had done nothing. He had tried using it as a point of refraction through which he might project a message onto a surface, but that was entirely fruitless. The surface of the disk itself was smooth, and there was nothing on it that suggested it might be used to translate anything. How did authorities figure it was the key to solving this problem?
Hours passed, and then days. He was tired. The Chuunin wondered whether he could even complete the assignment in the time he had been allotted; it seemed ludicrous, if not impossible. The script on the pages did not look like it was in a different language. The letters were the same as the language they spoke, but they did not form discrete syllables, and their arrangements made them seem like somebody had placed a typewriter in front of them and banged their head into it repeatedly for hours on end. There was just one thing that made Shinbatsu doubt that this was how the script originated; the spaces were far too frequent, and they placed themselves in such a way that the words on the page were all reasonable lengths for words. It just seemed too unlikely.
"You should get some rest, dear. You've been here all week. Your business must miss you. I'm sure the authorities will understand." Shinbatsu looked up: it was the librarian. He blinked and his mouth opened for a second to talk, but then it shut by itself. He had been here all week... He let out a sigh, then looked desperately up at his would-be-savior. "How do I look?" She smiled at him, but her smile was more sympathetic than anything else. "Like you just woke up from a coma, saw the First King, and fought him for your life. You need more rest dear."
She caught a small laugh from the man, but that was it. He needed to do this and would continue to do this until it was done. As she walked away, he shook his head, smiled again, and looked down. What did he have? There was a script that was too long to be gibberish, a gibberish language that was too organized to not be his language, and a golden disk that did nothing besides be golden.
Shinbatsu froze. The disk was golden. That was it. That was all it was. G: seven shift; O: fifteen shift; L: twelve shift; D: four shift. Was that all? One word, two words, three words, it all started falling into place. That was all.
Shinbatsu presented the script to the authorities the next week. Even after he had what he needed to translate it, he had to take the time to translate it, and that was a lot of time. But it was done now, and they had what they were looking for, and he could rest... Until the next call of duty arose.
Hours passed, and then days. He was tired. The Chuunin wondered whether he could even complete the assignment in the time he had been allotted; it seemed ludicrous, if not impossible. The script on the pages did not look like it was in a different language. The letters were the same as the language they spoke, but they did not form discrete syllables, and their arrangements made them seem like somebody had placed a typewriter in front of them and banged their head into it repeatedly for hours on end. There was just one thing that made Shinbatsu doubt that this was how the script originated; the spaces were far too frequent, and they placed themselves in such a way that the words on the page were all reasonable lengths for words. It just seemed too unlikely.
"You should get some rest, dear. You've been here all week. Your business must miss you. I'm sure the authorities will understand." Shinbatsu looked up: it was the librarian. He blinked and his mouth opened for a second to talk, but then it shut by itself. He had been here all week... He let out a sigh, then looked desperately up at his would-be-savior. "How do I look?" She smiled at him, but her smile was more sympathetic than anything else. "Like you just woke up from a coma, saw the First King, and fought him for your life. You need more rest dear."
She caught a small laugh from the man, but that was it. He needed to do this and would continue to do this until it was done. As she walked away, he shook his head, smiled again, and looked down. What did he have? There was a script that was too long to be gibberish, a gibberish language that was too organized to not be his language, and a golden disk that did nothing besides be golden.
Shinbatsu froze. The disk was golden. That was it. That was all it was. G: seven shift; O: fifteen shift; L: twelve shift; D: four shift. Was that all? One word, two words, three words, it all started falling into place. That was all.
Shinbatsu presented the script to the authorities the next week. Even after he had what he needed to translate it, he had to take the time to translate it, and that was a lot of time. But it was done now, and they had what they were looking for, and he could rest... Until the next call of duty arose.