Illumi did not immediately answer the choice between a cesspool and family tradition. His father, Silva, was amenable, allowing him to reply the next day.
Hey, does such a trivial matter really require so much consideration?
I can't fathom Illumi's thoughts at all. After all, he's a child not yet six years old, and his way of thinking differs from adults. Perhaps this is a generation gap.
Could he genuinely choose to undergo training in a cesspool?! If so, I wouldn't have to worry about the story losing its original flavor, but rather whether it would smell like fecal matter!
Don't be impulsive, Illumi! While I would deeply admire you, it would be a terrible loss!
The good news is that I later learned from Kikyo that Illumi hadn't lost his mind and had chosen to submit to family tradition.
Hearty congratulations, hearty congratulations.
No, now is not the time to worry about Illumi's trivial matters. Besides my slow skill level progression, I have other troubles—I am not compatible enough with this world.
I am not a blank canvas. To repaint it, one must first erase many of the previous strokes.
In the beginning, I thought it was too simple, believing I would only face the difficulty of "changing professions." However, the saying "different trades are like different mountains" illustrates that mountains are not easily crossed, and adding the element of "another world" means there are too many details that deviate significantly from my ingrained cognitive habits.
For instance, arm strength measured in "tons," stamina that allows one to run for half a day without gasping for breath, various surreal special abilities, and the existence of special non-human creatures like magical beasts and mystical beasts, and so on.
Fortunately, I experienced this world from infancy, giving me ample time for buffering, learning, and adaptation. Otherwise, I would likely have been seen through by the cunning members of the Zoldyck family and embarked on a path of heavy calculation seen in some fanfiction, most likely with a bad ending, and not just a simple loss of life.
Kikyo didn't become the mistress of the Zoldyck household merely on the strength of a marriage contract; her abilities were also recognized by the family. Thus, she recognized my greatest flaw early on:
Passivity and hesitation.
They all knew I had little will to live since birth. They considered this "passivity" as my innate personality, seemingly without suspicion. In any case, they were always trying to improve this issue, keeping a close eye on me, both openly and covertly.
Especially during training that could endanger my life, Kikyo would inform me beforehand and would promptly intervene in any "accidents."
The fan she carried was actually a weapon, capable of firing projectiles like air bullets with considerable power. One shot could blast me from the edge of a blade to a nearby wall, making me unable to escape... no, after hitting the wall, I would slide directly to the ground.
Yes, in the past, I truly didn't want to dodge. Later, I set "completing 999 Zoldyck missions" as my goal. I understood and decided to start working hard, yet I still couldn't shake off my "passive" fighting style.
It's unavoidable. For fighting styles, I'm not like that "cool guy" who appears honest at work but becomes the big villain after clocking out. That's a false image of an ordinary office worker.
I am a genuinely ordinary office worker, never having even thrown a punch. I can't tear open a package with my bare hands and still need scissors. Do you think someone like me can easily grasp what combat is?
This has absolutely nothing to do with me!
Alright, I know this world is one that requires combat. Ordinary people who can't fight will become cannon fodder at any moment, after all, the original setting is a combat manga.
I've done a lot of psychological self-construction, but consciousness and body cannot quickly unify. I still don't protect my vital points. My subconscious is probably still yearning for death.
I am not as diligent and strong as I appear on the surface. I am lazy and afraid of pain. Every time I feel tired and in pain, I get the urge to give up everything. And I am cowardly, often finding excuses to persevere, thus dragging myself along and barely holding on until now.
Moreover, I dare not perform too well. I would rather perform poorly. I don't know what children my age are normally like. I can only adjust my grades using Illumi, who is a year younger than me, as a reference. Fortunately, I'm still mute. I avoid expressing opinions whenever possible and play dumb when I can. I cannot let them see the problems within me.
According to the original setting, there is a special ability called "Nen" in this world. Since the Zoldycks haven't mentioned it, I don't dare to do something like "a slow bird catches the worm" from fanfiction and research it privately, lest I be exposed.
Yes, whether in public or private, I do almost nothing superfluous. I only proactively do what they ask me to do. I want to be a tree, existing as quiet background. Except for... the suggestion to throw Illumi into the cesspool.
Alright, alright, that was my only impulsive moment, okay! I promise! I'll never "speak" carelessly again!
As long as I don't do anything proactively, there's no room for error!
Another concern is that I'm very worried I'll become a muscular character like Silva in the future, so I don't dare to try too hard in any training that strengthens my muscles. If I accidentally turn into a Hulk, wouldn't that be more painful than killing me?!
Every time Kikyo tells me I'm inferior to Illumi, I'm always quite pleased.
I am not a competitive person, because in my past life, I realized my own mediocrity. Lying down like a salted fish is the most suitable for me.
Being surpassed by Illumi is a good thing. In the original setting, he is one of the top fighters among the younger generation, with undoubtedly high talent. I am only a year older than him, so it's not shameful to be inferior to him; rather, it's quite normal.
My passivity stems from my mindset, while my hesitation is due to my lack of adaptation.
Looking back at my life in the "real world," I was the type of person who couldn't refuse and was easily taken advantage of. From elementary school classmates to college roommates, they always asked to borrow various things from me. An eraser, a piece of paper, a roll of tape, a cup of hot water, a watch, a hairdryer, a pair of headphones... they were all small, everyday items. I felt I had no reason not to lend them.
One day, my hairdryer broke. A roommate who used to borrow my hairdryer when it was cold suddenly had her own hairdryer a day later. That's when I realized I was a fool.
Later, I learned this was called "being weak-willed."
Yes, I am very weak-willed, like a herbivore, soft and squishy, much like my favorite rabbit plush toy. I always look at people's expressions before speaking or acting. Forget hitting anyone, I've never even cursed someone to their face.
I can face skill upgrades with a game-like mentality, which is why I can tirelessly hunt animals and practice the skill [Steal Heart], enhanced by the original work's sentimentality.
But when it comes to fighting people, rather than observing the opponent's movements first, I am more prone to instinctively observing their expressions first. This delay, this hesitation, makes my reaction a beat slower, which is undoubtedly a fatal weakness.
Especially when I see someone who looks unapproachable, I involuntarily feel intimidated.
I am utterly unsuited for the killer profession, and my mind isn't sharp either. I am a useless person.
As things stand, the reason I seem to be working hard in various training sessions every day is merely to pass the time and do my best.
Alas, in the end, even if I were willing to strive, I wouldn't become a killer. I lack the necessary psychological aptitude. The Zoldycks highly value their years of accumulated industry reputation. It's hard to say if someone like me would even get a chance to be a subordinate.
The more I talk, the more discouraged I become. I won't mention it anymore. For now, let's consider increasing skill levels as a short-term goal to at least give myself a bit more motivation.
Kikyo's pregnancy is now very obvious. She's right on schedule, just like in the original setting, having one child every six years. This time, she's expecting her second son, Kalluto. Hopefully, his birth will divert some of Kikyo's attention. Kikyo's energy is too abundant; she can manage two children perfectly. I have almost no opportunity to escape her observation. I feel like she's staring at me in everything I do, which further discourages me from doing anything outside of the required tasks.
"Mylos, concentrate!" Kikyo, unafraid of causing premature labor, shrieked again, "No! Mylos! How can you still not change your ways?!"
With her strength, she naturally knew I instinctively observed my opponent's expressions first. She tried having my opponents wear masks to help me gradually correct this habit, but this habit, maintained for over ten years in the "real world," had become almost instinctive. How could it be so easily changed?
Later, she changed her method and told me to cover my eyes and fight solely by sound, smell, and air currents. Just when I finally adapted to this method and removed the eye patch, I reverted to my old ways, still observing the opponent's expressions first.
Illumi's specialized training is entirely handled by Silva. She doesn't want to lose her teaching authority over me, so she has never sought Silva's help. She has exhausted every method she could think of, employing both soft and hard tactics, but with little effect, eventually becoming somewhat hysterical.
Her hysterical demeanor strongly resembles my mother in the "real world." I can't help but pity her, but no matter how sorry I feel, I am still like that useless daughter in the "real world," a "daughter" here who has the will but not the means.
"I can... cover my eyes," I mouthed to Kikyo. "That way, I can..."
"That won't do! You must change your bad habits!" Kikyo's anger was burning fiercely.
She glanced at the butler who was sparring with me. Under her intense, vengeful killing intent, the butler bowed his head deeply in fear. Then she suddenly smiled, perhaps out of exasperation.
"Mylos, are you afraid?" Kikyo placed one hand over her swollen abdomen and lifted my chin with the other. "Hmm, you're not afraid of death, but you fear me... No, not just me, you have a strange fear of the other family members, oh, even a mere servant. How peculiar. You have no reason to fear; no one here will harm you. You should know this."
"Come, prove it," Kikyo commanded the butler sparring with me. "It's time to show your loyalty to your master. Do not resist, let Mylos take your heart."
To match my height, the butler knelt on both knees and unbuttoned his black suit jacket. His heart was separated from me by only a shirt and a layer of flesh and blood, a combined thickness far less than the fur of some animals. He was a target I could currently succeed in using the skill [Steal Heart: Level 2] on.
To obey an order to die so readily, even I might not be able to do that. He is truly docile, or rather, loyal. Looking at his indifferent expression, I seemed to see myself—an office worker who accepted their fate, knowing they were not in control.
There is a saying: true freedom is not indulgence or doing whatever one pleases, but the right to refuse.
"..." I tried to refuse, shaking my head at Kikyo.
"Mylos, do you know the meaning of your name? Mors, you were born to bring death. All life is your sustenance," Kikyo said, affectionately stroking my hair. "Be good, Mylos, take out his heart. This is a necessary step to eliminate fear."
"..."
"Do not make me say it a second time."
"..."
"Mylos, you must do this."
"..."
Must... do something. What are the things a person must do in life? Eat, drink, defecate, urinate, sleep, and then... find a spouse.
["You are a monster."]
I am a monster.
["Don't you really want to get married?!"]
Yes, I don't. I have no interest.
["You don't even have friends!!"]
Yes, I don't. I don't know why I should have them, or what the meaning is.
"..."
Shedding one's self is actually quite easy.
I had already surrendered in the "real world." I had a few admirers. I didn't know what they liked about me; perhaps it was my face. I chose the one who, both "she" and I, felt had the best conditions. I knew that pursuer genuinely liked me. I told myself that feelings could be cultivated. Later, I completely gave myself to him. That day, I was terrified and in pain. As soon as I put on my clothes, I went straight home.
"She" cursed me, calling me a fool for leaving after giving up my precious first time without letting him get a good look.
Blood was flowing. It would have been easy to take a picture as proof and mention that I ran away because I was scared, although I found such proof rather strange, as if I were guilty.
The other party casually replied that it seemed he was too skilled.
Perhaps he was trying to ease the atmosphere, but I didn't find it funny at all. At that moment, I wanted to break up with him.
Sunk cost is something that makes people fall deeper. Although I didn't care about the so-called "precious first time," I had been "dating" him for four or five years. I understood that there was no perfect person who would completely satisfy you. I also had many unlikable flaws. I had to learn to adapt; I learned to lie beneath him, I learned to sit on him, I learned to cooperate with him, I learned many other things until...
Let's not dwell on the past.
I must focus on the present.
This is something I will eventually have to do, something I will have to do many times. Facing it sooner is a good thing.
I am not a child; I have no naive hope.
I am as calm as I am surprised.
Focusing my attention, I see a small portion of the butler's health bar is missing. Based on my experience, a health bar is a comprehensive representation of a target's state, including not only vitality but also stamina and energy. When stamina or energy is significantly depleted, the health bar will show a corresponding deficit.
According to biological theory, the difference between an animal's heart and a human's lies in their position and structure. However, I don't need to concern myself with the structure; I only need to know the location.
Behind the sternum, slightly to the left. Pierce the skin, pass through flesh and blood, sever the connected blood vessels.
Not entirely successful. A blood vessel was pulled out along with the heart. My face was splashed with blood.
The shape of a peach, familiar texture, just like the model.
Beating, strong, just like an animal's.
And like my heart, it's the same, right?
I watched his health bar rapidly deplete. His face was pale, perhaps due to the intense pain, he was speechless. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
They say children don't understand death and do cruel things.
I remember once taking a paper cutter and wanting to slice the membrane on the side of a tadpole so it could grow legs and become a frog sooner. But it struggled so hard on the table that to catch it, I accidentally used too much force and killed it. I can still clearly remember the mass of gray intestines I squeezed out.
Disgusting. I quickly threw it away, just as I threw away the heart in my hand.
"Mylos, can you change your bad habits?" Kikyo said softly. "Mylos, you can do it. Believe that as long as you are willing, you can kill anyone in the world. They are all your prey, so you have no need to fear 'dead people'."
"..."
"If you can't, I can continue to help you overcome obstacles. Oh, apologies, was the candidate just now too ordinary? Please wait a moment, Mylos." Kikyo affectionately put her arm around my shoulder and instructed the attendant butler, "Go to the training facility and find a new recruit. No matter their seniority, anyone with some vitality will do."