Chương 10: The Constitution as Source Code

From that day forward, the landscape of Asuka shifted fundamentally. The following morning, PRINCE officially compiled and deployed the 17-Article Constitution. To the modern era, it would be remembered as a set of moral guidelines. In reality, it was a sequence of absolute, unarguable source code designed to govern the sovereign operating system. Article One: Let Harmony be valued, and avoid wanton opposition. (Exception Handling: Violators will be physically purged via the Harmony Rod.) Article Twelve: Provincial governors and local chieftains shall not extort the populace. (Runtime Error: Corrupt officials will have their Visual Ranks forcefully reset and undergo automated demotion to agricultural laborers.) The structural migration executed with violent, explosive velocity. Overnight, the Oharida Palace was expanded utilizing prefabricated assembly protocols supplied by Gennai, mutating into a sprawling, hyper-efficient bureaucratic district.

Officials clad in the colorful headgear of the 12-Level Cap and Rank System reported to their sectors with millisecond punctuality. Dispensing with idle chatter, they systematically cleared tasks precisely as PRINCE dictated. The mud-slicked plazas were paved with clean stone, drainage grids were integrated, and the primal stench vanished entirely. Every component of society moved with pristine synchronization, exchanging flawless, automated smiles. There were no disputes. There were no brawls.

Because the moment a thread disrupted the harmony, PRINCE would instantly manifest to execute a hardware debug. Walking through the meticulously optimized streets of Asuka, a chilling sensation crept down my spine. It was too fast. It was too perfect. The populace had undoubtedly unlocked prosperity. Even Umako was running his political loops with genuine diligence, constantly snickering as he reviewed his glowing status metrics.

Yet, I couldn't shake the unsettling suspicion that the raw, chaotic spark of human life was slowly evaporating from their eyes. 『Smooth operations, brother, 』 Gennai's voice chimed. 『The "Anarchy" anomaly has been fully patched. We just forced a major firmware update on Japan's OS—jumping straight from Version 1. 0 to 5. 0. 』"... Yeah. I suppose we did." I watched the synchronized ranks of marching officials depart. Their footsteps ticked away with the unyielding, mechanical rhythm of a metronome. Click. Click.

Click. It felt terrifyingly identical to the stride of Prime Minister Naosu Yari. Seasons cycled in the background; a decade bled away. To PRINCE and me, however, this wasn't a linear perception of time. Due to the relativistic compression of spatiotemporal transit, those ten years were processed and rendered like a brief sequence spanning mere days. The year was A. D. 613. The twenty-first year of Empress Suiko's reign. I stood atop a sweeping ridge, gazing down at the finalized metropolis of Asuka.

"... Incredible. This is actually the Japan of seventeen centuries ago?" Spread out beneath the horizon was an Asuka-kyō completely unrecognized by mainstream textbooks. The roadways were mapped on a stark, geometric grid. Monolithic administrative complexes constructed of unpainted timber towered toward the heavens.

The historical marshlands, once a treacherous quagmire, had been completely reclaimed by the flood-gate networks Gennai designed, transforming the sector into vast, golden oceans of optimized rice fields. The citizens navigating the streets were garbed in immaculate, standardized linen, their countenances uniformly serene. No roaring voices. No violent altercations. There were no thieves, nor were there any beggars.

The absolute programming of the 17-Article Constitution held total dominion over the nation's behavioral loop. It was the textbook manifestation of a Utopia. At least, on the surface layer. 『Progress metrics align perfectly with the roadmap. GDP is maintaining a stable 8% annual growth vector. Crime metrics are sitting at absolute zero. Our diplomatic leverage against the Sui Dynasty has multiplied exponentially compared to our initial baseline three years ago. 』 An unmodulated voice materialized from behind.

I turned to find PRINCE standing there. His robes were the exact same pristine, luminescent white as a decade prior, entirely unblemished by the world below. However, the LED indicator resting on his black eboshi hat was slowly pulsing in a hazardous, warning crimson.

"PRINCE-san... Your output looks terrible." 『An android does not possess physiological complexion, nor does my outer casing exhibit structural decay. 』 He responded automatically, though his stride was visibly dragging. 『However, it is a factual reality that my internal core generator's output is crashing. Relying entirely on the low-grade ambient energy harvesting primitives of this era—solar grids and lightning strikes—has placed a hard limit on my ability to sustain high-end quantum processing loops.

』 Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Gennai's voice cut across the channel. 『Can't blame the hardware. For ten straight years, you've been running an unpatched, 24/7 thread processing millions of civilian grievances without a single reboot cycle. No matter how advanced future cell chemistry is, you're officially running on fumes. 』 『… Acknowledged. My primary task is finalized.

The "Order" protocol has achieved permanent integration into the Sovereign OS. 』 PRINCE quietly surveyed the sprawling capital. The data streams flickering across his pupils were no longer a raging torrent, but a slow, decaying trickle. 『Kataru Mononobe. Navigate toward the retrieval vector. The extraction coordinates are locked onto... Kataokayama. 』 Kataokayama was a desolate, isolated mountain pass running alongside a neglected trade route, far removed from the pristine grid of the capital.

We navigated the terrain under the shroud of stealth protocols, deliberately avoiding civilian contact. As we traveled, PRINCE's locomotive functions decayed exponentially. A sickening, rhythmic grinding sound began to echo from his joint actuator motors. 『… Warning. Battery reserves at 2%. Accessing Emergency Safe Mode. 』"Whoa, hey! Are you going to be okay?!" I panicked, instinctively reaching out to offer a supporting shoulder. Right at that exact microsecond—"Oh? Who goes there...?"

As if cursed by the algorithm, a small cluster of travelers materialized farther up the mountain path. Judging by their basic attire, they appeared to be low-tier regional officials commuting toward the capital to log an inquiry. This was catastrophic. PRINCE's luminescent, divine aura had completely shut down. If they observed him in this degraded state, it would permanently compromise his visual matrix as a living deity.

"Get down!" I hissed, attempting to steer him into the dense overgrowth flanking the path. But PRINCE's legs gave out with a heavy click, and he collapsed directly onto the dirt road. 『…Critical Error. Lower extremity actuators failing to respond. Further locomotive progression is unfeasible. 』"Are you kidding me?! Right here?! They're coming right toward us!" The travelers accelerated their pace as they approached.

"Excuse us, traveler. Are you unwell?" The leading official inquired, his brow furrowing as he observed the crumpled figure on the path. To save every remaining micro-joule of power, PRINCE had completely deactivated his holographic outer armor. Stripped of his divine illumination, he no longer resembled an imperial regent; he looked like nothing more than a thoroughly exhausted, emancipated beggar.

"Is he suffering from starvation?... Quickly, fetch him some rations from the pack." The official ordered, gesturing for his subordinate to produce a wrapped rice ball. In that instant, PRINCE slowly elevated his chin. 『… Unnecessary. 』 His voice was weak, yet it carried an unyielding, hard-coded gravitas. 『I am not starved for biological sustenance. I am simply... mourning the structural trajectory of this nation's future. 』"Ah...?" The travelers collectively gasped, taking a sharp step back.

Despite his utterly ruined appearance, the frequency of his voice commanded an uncanny, hypnotic authority. With a trembling hand, PRINCE extracted a single piece of fabric from his inner robes—it was the high-grade, deep purple garment he always draped over his shoulders. 『I interrogate your protocols. ─ Do you possess the hard-coded resolve to uphold the Law, preserve Harmony, and sacrifice your bandwidth for the state? 』"Y-Yes! Absolutely, my lord!"

The officials threw themselves onto the dirt, flatly prostrating without even processing why they were doing it. 『Then it is acceptable. ─ Depart. Pay no heed to my coordinates. 』 PRINCE draped the high-grade purple garment entirely over his frame, obscuring his facial features from the world as he lay motionless on the unpaved earth. He had successfully initiated [Sleep Mode].

"U-Uh... My lord?" The official ventured nervously, but no data returned. I frantically intervened, stepping into their line of sight.

"Ah! Forgive him, good travelers! This gentleman is... a hyper-exalted monk undergoing severe ascetic trials! He has just entered a state of profound, absolute meditation! Please, leave him undisturbed!"

"I-I see... Then we shall leave this garment with him." Observing the luxurious, imperial purple hue of the fabric, the officials intuitively deduced they were in the presence of someone of immense status. They delivered a deep, reverent bow and hurried down the mountain. The moment their signatures cleared the area, I let out a massive breath of cold sweat.

"That was way too close... I can't believe we managed to gaslight them." 『… Logging data sequence. 』 PRINCE's voice echoed muffled from beneath the purple shroud. 『The event has been successfully registered. In the future annals, this anomaly will be recorded as a benevolent myth: The Regent Shōtoku offering his imperial robes to a starving traveler on the road. My identity parameters remain uncompromised. 』 My mind violently clicked as the realization slammed into me. The Starving Man of Kataokayama.

It was one of the most enduring mysteries recorded in the Nihon Shoki —the historical records of Japan. The legend stated that Prince Shōtoku discovered a starving beggar on the road, gave him his own precious purple robes, and when the beggar eventually perished, his tomb was found entirely empty, the body having mysteriously vanished. The official text claimed the Prince had rescued a dying traveler. But the historical reality was an inverse match.

The truth was that the Prince himself was the starving man, running an emergency sleep-mode sequence beneath a piece of cloth.

"The power of Narrative..." I breathed in awe.

"The people didn't record the raw, ugly data of what they saw. They systematically altered their own memory to fit the narrative they wanted to believe—the myth of the benevolent Regent." 『Humanity is an entity governed by those parameters. 』 PRINCE murmured from beneath his shroud, his internal systems whispering to a quiet halt. 『Gennai. Authorize the extraction pod transit. ─ It is time to de-allocate myself from history. 』