Myths speak of a punishment where a sinner must push a boulder to the mountaintop for absolution. A man named Sisyphus accepted this fate. He pushed with all his might, but each time he neared the summit, his strength would fail, and he could only watch as the boulder rolled back to the foot of the mountain. This repeated, day after day, an eternal, hopeless labor.
Repetition, repetition, repetition. Yes, destiny is a ceaseless cycle.
I abandoned thought, relying on the muscle memory built over years of training, and fruitlessly attacked Zeno, an opponent I could never possibly hit.
Games, tea, none of it was real. Zeno, bound by game rules and unable to retaliate, also didn't exist. I faced nothing more than an intangible training dummy.
Learning anything requires long, sustained, repetitive practice. Here, it's called "training." Fatigue and hardship were secondary; the most unbearable aspect was the daily grind, the repetition that etched lessons into the body, transforming them into unthinking reflexes.
Like now, attacking an opponent who wouldn't fight back, with no need for defense, I could completely clear my mind and let my body repeat learned attack patterns, like a machine.
Isn't this for the best? Rather than relying on my meager brain, it’s better to trust this superior body, a Zoldyck production. The body has memory. Letting it act on its own should bring me closer to the true "Alluka Zoldyck."
What do you think, Alluka?
No response.
Fatigue accumulated in my body. I glanced at Zeno's undamaged health bar and couldn't help but marvel. This was a Boss, after all. Even in his old age, his stamina was immense.
The level gap was too vast. Neither a lightning-fast assault nor a war of attrition had any effect. Instead, I was the one weakening first, my combat power starting to decline.
Failure, failure, failure. I could embrace my most familiar companion once more.
Comforting, even reassuring. With my aptitude, this was only to be expected.
Don't harbor unrealistic fantasies.
This was merely a training session, no different from any other. Once I exhausted my stamina, I could rest. I could return to my bed early and perhaps sneak in some practice with "feeling life energy."
Lately, I’ve come to a realization. For an idiot like me, if I obediently waited for the Zoldycks to teach me "Nen," the naturally gifted Illumi would be the first to comprehend it. His strength would immediately surpass mine by a tier. One step behind means steps behind forever; I'd be left further and further behind, unable to defy his will.
The original work stated that "Nen" is the life energy within the human body, and there are two ways to master this power.
The first is natural awakening, where one slowly comprehends their internal life energy through meditation and other practices. The better the aptitude, the shorter the time required. It heavily relies on intellectual prowess; I estimate I'd need years.
The second is forced awakening. After being attacked by a Nen user with Nen, if one learns to retain their continuously flowing life energy, they have awakened "Nen." This demands extremely high aptitude and carries great risk. If one cannot awaken "Nen" before their life energy completely dissipates, they will die. Without a doubt, I'd be one of the ones who die.
Natural awakening, feeling life energy, relies on meditation. This is quite metaphysical. I have no idea when it will take effect.
I’m already nine years old. According to common consensus in fan fiction circles, twelve is the most suitable age to learn "Nen." This is because children in this world have mature minds by twelve, allowing them to develop their own suitable Nen abilities more easily when studying it, without wasting their talent.
Another drawback of learning "Nen" too early is the potential for dependency, leading to the neglect of fundamental skills. I don't need to worry about that. My goal is merely to successfully awaken "Nen." I don't plan to use any application techniques of "Nen" before the Zoldycks officially teach me, to avoid revealing my hand.
The advantage of natural awakening is that even if the Zoldycks perceive my "Nen" awakening, they would never suspect I cultivated it myself. This way, I don't have to worry about them discovering my knowledge beyond the conventional, which could trigger a butterfly effect. I would simply be meditating in bed before sleep, appearing no different from someone dozing off with their eyes closed. No one would be able to tell what I'm doing.
Currently, my progress in natural awakening is zero. There's no need to rush; I have at least three years to explore. I hope to catch up and not fall behind Illumi.
My body had exercised sufficiently. The sweat-soaked clothes clung to my skin. This feeling was all too familiar. In a little while, I could stop and go for a bath. That was my most relaxing moment of the day. As long as I didn't take too long, no one would bother me, and I liked that very much.
Although the wounds on my body stung when immersed in hot water, I could bear it and even ignore it. Human adaptability is surprisingly strong, stronger than imagined.
The only downside was the lack of any fragrance in the bathroom. The bathing products were all unscented. Being a killer, occupational discretion was crucial. Possessing a distinct scent could reveal one's presence.
I actually quite liked girls who had a faint floral scent and felt fresh. It was a shame. Having a good face, but lacking a scent. A flower without fragrance, no matter how beautiful, feels somewhat bland, doesn't it?
Just like my attacks, which must seem bland and laughable to Zeno, mere child's play. He must be quite bored by now, wouldn't you say?
This game had no mention of a time limit, so I stopped for a brief rest. Constantly holding the teacup steady, preventing the tea from spilling, seemed to have tired Zeno as well. He shifted the teacup from his right hand to his left.
Seizing this opportunity, I charged forward. So close to success, yet only by a hair's breadth... Hmph, this is precisely your arrogance, Zeno.
Before I began attacking Zeno with New Orleans, I secretly placed New Orleans' mini letter tube into my sleeve, hiding it within the bandage layers on my arm. Then, I waited for an opportunity.
During a pause for rest, as I raised my hand to wipe my sweat, I loosened the bandage slightly. This time, using my hand for cover and the momentum of my attack, the mini letter tube flew from my sleeve. It crossed the "hair's breadth" and landed in the teacup's opening, shattering the moon reflected in the tea. The tea splashed out.
Checkmate.
Victory in the game. I was happy, yes, but not as happy as I had imagined.
This was because my winning tactic was a mere imitation of the protagonist's clever move against Netero in a dodgeball game from the original work.
The protagonist in the original work, during a flying kick, used his slipping shoe to increase his attack range, disrupting Netero's rhythm and nearly winning the game.
I had never tried this maneuver before. What if I failed the operation and had to hobble on one foot to retrieve my shoe? That scene would be too embarrassing, so I opted for the mini letter tube as a prop.
The protagonist is truly the protagonist; using a protagonist's strategy is always correct. The only drawback is the lack of a sense of accomplishment. Solving a puzzle with an existing guide is nowhere near as engaging as figuring it out yourself.
"Meru, you won. You did very well, exceeding my expectations."
Zeno's praise filled me with shame. I suddenly regretted winning this game.
The results of cheating are temporary. If I were to be tested again next time, I'd be back to square one.
Their rare expectations of me would all turn into disappointment.
Could I endure that kind of gaze?
"..." I hoped they wouldn't place too many expectations on me.
With no mood to accept the game's victory, I nodded to Zeno in acknowledgment and went to pick up New Orleans, who was placed aside.
"A bet is a bet. Truly, there's no helping it." Zeno placed the teacup back on the table. "You won the game, so I must fulfill my promise. Come here, Meru."
Hugging New Orleans, I shook my head at Zeno and mouthed, "You don't have to force yourself, Grandpa."
"There's no need to worry. Once I've decided on something, I have no intention of going back on my word," Zeno said, walking towards me. "So, it's not forcing yourself."
"But..." I carefully chose my words. "I don't want to anymore."
"...?" Zeno's steps halted.
Not wanting Zeno to see through my thoughts, I lowered my head and looked at the floor.
The outcome of cheating didn't bring me joy. The desired "petting the cat" achievement became insipid.
In the "real world," I grew accustomed to a life of low desires. This was because I had long known that many things in the world were not easily affordable for my family's financial situation. I had to be sensible, not throw tantrums, and not cause trouble for the family. Besides necessities, there was no need to buy anything else; it was all a waste of money.
Later, I even stopped buying birthday cakes. Not only were they not cheap, but their taste was mediocre, far less satisfying than hot pot. Primarily, I didn't feel the significance.
A child's joy on their birthday is the joy of growing up. But I was already an adult, an adult who had achieved nothing. Birthdays merely meant aging, fewer life possibilities, and increasing fatigue from work. The act of celebrating a birthday... wasn't joyful.
When desires are left unfulfilled for a long time, or when it's known that they cannot be realized, desires gradually disappear. I believe this is a good self-preservation mechanism. Constantly enduring the pain of unfulfilled wishes would surely lead to mental illness.
Low desire is a good thing. I wouldn't be swayed by in-game recharge benefits, impulsively spend due to store discounts, or yearn for travel because of online photos.
I evaded all consumer traps, tightly guarding my wallet.
I cannot be without money. I need a lot of money to have the security of a stable life, to not worry about where I'd live if I lost my job. Compared to money, everything else is insignificant.
... All ephemeral.
I never expected to be able to pet Zeno. Although I have a collector's habit, after playing too many games in the "real world," I discovered that completing collections required energy and money beyond my patience and capabilities. I decisively gave up and no longer pursued it.
Yes, I am a mature adult. I won't cry and demand like a child. I will control my desires, measure my desires, eliminate my desires, and refrain from doing things where the付出 and return are unequal, and from pursuing illusory happiness.
Earning money honestly, having meat to eat, taking a refreshing bath, and sleeping until I wake up naturally – these are the most secure and fulfilling joys I can experience.
... I am a mature, uninteresting adult.
"Just 'don't want to now'?" Zeno extended his hand and stroked my head. "Then the game reward will be kept for now."
After he finished petting me, I looked up and mouthed, "Can I change the game reward?"
"What do you want?"
"Don't hold me accountable for damaging public property." Specifically, deducting my allowance as repair costs.
"That's a separate matter from this. Randomly damaging public property is a bad habit, Meru," Zeno said, turning his back. "In any case, I will keep your game reward, and you may go rest."
"..." Nodding to him, I hugged New Orleans tightly and exited Zoldyck's second Boss dungeon room.