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Three Days Later
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In the training room,
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Simpletons. Every single one of them, no more than simpletons. Number 12 thought as he stayed leaning against the wall in one of the corners.
He observed various people currently using this room to exercise with his inky eyes. At the ring, he could see 82, standing tall—his fists soaked in blood. Around him were 4-5 kids, knocked unconscious on the ground.
12 sneered seeing such a sight. Then his gaze fell upon the kids who tried to climb the edges of the waterfall and failed miserably. Then onto one of the kids who struggled to lift heavy stone weights. Likewise, there were many more. Some practised martial arts. Some duelled with each other. Some inflicted pain on themselves to develop endurance.
Like why? Is it fun? Of course not! They're childish.
He didn't like to train. Rather he enjoyed reading books. Everyone's free to do whatever they want, everyone except me! Curse that woman!
12 never enjoyed any form of this so-called 'Training,' Especially that waterfall climbing. Just gathering enough courage to decide and take the first step was a feat of its own. Had it not been for 178 glaring from behind with her devilish lavender eyes, he would have never attempted such a feat.
Holding on to the slithery surface with his fingers was an ordeal, but that was not all. The most troublesome thing was the swift shift in temperature.
When 12 had climbed to about 13 feet above the ground, the temperature suddenly inflated. The whole waterfall boiled, and the slithery surface turned into scorching red stone.
'My poor arms got burned! and I couldn't even open a book later with burnt fingers….'
Not to mention, he fell to the ground from 13 feet above the ground.
That day, he wanted to cry, but not a single tear shed from his eyes, as he knew 178 didn't allow any weakness and the day she chose him to be her assistant, he lost his privilege to show any fragility.
'What's wrong with not being a brute?'
He asked himself that question a lot. Especially when he would see kids wait in front of the waterfall to see when the temperature would change, and they would attempt to climb it.
'Like why?'
The shift change happened once every day sporadically. Some days, the waterfall would be hot as lava. Other days, it would be colder than glaciers.
'Everyone wanted to get stronger. But why? What would they do with all that strength? Beat each other? That's just barbaric.'
12 often wished he could be part of another group, like 82's. He didn't seem to force anyone to do anything. 'Or even the chefs would have been fine. All they need to do is cook. How hard can that be?'
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"Why do I feel like you get more insane with each passing day?" 18 asked, looking down at the desk, where 101 had pressed his palm against the wooden surface; his fingers were spread out.
"Well, it's you who cuts the ingredients, so you would be the most acquainted with a knife among the three of us. So…." 101's one arm was pressed against the desk, another was holding a knife, which he urged 18 to take.
"So, you ask me to cut your finger?" 18 scowled. "First of all, why would anyone want to cut their own finger? It's just ridiculous."
"I prefer the term Medical Experiment." His eyes had a firm look. "Besides, assessments should be based on practical knowledge, not solely on book knowledge."
"Ah ~ how I miss the times when you were all silent and didn't demand me to do such tasks…" 18 sighed.
"It's a simple tas—" 71 interrupted 101, "Just give me the knife."
71 snatched the knife from 101's arm. He circled the knife in mid-air twice before finally grabbing it by the handle. Then, he raised his arm.
Woosh!
The knife sliced through the air before finally meeting its target.
It was 101's whose finger got chopped, but it was 18 who screamed. "Ah! h-how could you do that?" The sight of blood made her mouth sour.
"What?" 71 shrugged. "He asked for it." he threw the knife, circling in mid-air before catching it again.
101 lurched the fingers of his other arm and covered his injured finger with a cloth.
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Three Days Later
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In the kitchen
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As usual, 18 sat above a desk. Opposite her sat 101. On the desk they sat on, there were piles of books lying around.
101, like usual, was keenly interested in the book 18 was holding. "So, what new thing have you found now?" he asked.
"My hair grows longer, smoother, and shines brighter with each passing day. I don't like it." She responded, her eyes still on the books.
"How unfortunate that gods gifted you great hair." 101 said expressionlessly.
"It's not that I hate my hair. It's just… it's silver. 71's hair is also silver. I rather have a color unique to myself."
"Good luck in your pursuit. But, dare I ask, did you manage to solve the height issue?" he asked in curiosity.
"No. no. It was too bothersome." she shook her head.
"Of course, it was," 101 sighed. In total, six days had passed. He'd sought to find new ways to combat but ended up nowhere. He did conduct some small experiments. His chopped index finger had regenerated entirely after two days. But other than that, he only studied medical arts for those six days while sitting right here.
And like always, 18's choice of the book did not fail to cease to amaze him. The first day, when she took it upon herself to solve her height issues, she looked focused. But the next day, the books she carried were on an entirely different topic. It kept changing every day. And with each new day came a new issue, be it with height, nails, bone structure, or even hair.
He assumed she solved one issue and moved on to the next quickly. That would have been impressive, but alas, she just moved forward without, in truth, solving anything.
Bash!
The kitchen door opened abruptly. 71 entered through the door with a smug grin and vain eyes.
"Now, both of you shall admit that I still am the cleverest." he pointed his finger towards 101. "Especially you. You must have felt quite proud and witty when you came up with a way to get the manuals."
"Me?" 101 blinked.
"And you," 71 pointed towards 18. "You're useless."
"Good to see you as always. 71." 18 said derisively.
"Getting the manuals might have been impressive, but it holds no comparison to the feat I accomplished. I found out the way to test compatibility."
101's ear flicked. He did not like that statement.
71 continued. "In fact, today's the deadline for the deal you made with 82. You would have ended up a man incapable of withholding his promises without me."
"That would have been unfortunate." 101 admitted. He didn't care much for the deadline because he cared not for the Dark Arts. The deeper he dug, the foggier the Art got. He'd thought of different other ways to deal with 82.
"Did you even test it?" 18 asked. Her voice was brimmed with suspicion.
"No. But I'm sure."
"Didn't those books you read teach you to always check before you boast? Because should your theory turn out to be a hocus. I will laugh. Not just once. Every morning, I'll be there, in front of your face, reminding you of your failure." 18 said, meeting 71's eyes.
101 looked at 18 with a surprised face. 'Since when was she so…..what happened to her?'
"Don't be absurd," 71 sat down on a chair and placed a book he carried on the desk. "First. I never speak without certainty," His eyes were unyielding as ever, "Second. I never boast. But I like to hear other people admit their shortcomings and admit that I am superior." He crossed his arm. "So, if you want to know the method, admit it." 71 leaned back in a conceited manner.
"Often," said 101. "One must quietly observe from afar as someone digs a hole for themselves. Just so he can build a bridge over it and cross it safely."
"..what?" 71 frowned. That was not the answer he expected.
"It means you're superior." 101 admitted. He said what he had to, to hear of the method. He'd never learn it; still, he was curious about how 71 figured it out. "You said I must have felt quite proud and witty. But the truth is, I never cared for such things, nor do I consider myself superior to anyone. I simply consider myself more perceptive." The latter half of the sentence was the truth.
71's eyes narrowed. He was in no way dull-witted. He knew that was not praise, nor was it an insult. But, for now, it sufficed for him.
The same couldn't be said for 18's answer.
She raised her left brow and sneered, "Please rain down your wisdom upon us and let us bathe in your wise words, oh mighty lord, as we're but dolts incapable of achieving anything without your guidance."
She exaggerated her voice to the point that it became plain clear that she meant it as an insult.
"Seriously, what happened to you?" 101 asked to 18.
"A day will come when you realize my value," 71's eyes turned cold. "That day, you will regret insulting me. And that day, I won't laugh. I will just look down upon you as you realize your worthlessness."
"You and your delusions." 18 sighed.
Clap!
101's loud clap attracted both of their attention. "Both of you strayed far too away from the main point. The method." His eyes met 18's. "And you really should stop reading whatever book you're currently reading."
"Humph." She jolted away her head.
71 opened the book on the desk. "Each and every manual we received has a set of letters imprinted on the bottom of the first page. I wondered what those numbers were, later I found out—" 18 interrupted, "It was not you who discovered it. I informed you about the numbers. I noticed the first three letters indicated the library's shelf number, and later 2 or 3 indicated the row and column. You never even stepped onto the library until I told you about it."
"So?" 17 chuckled, "You merely noticed it and ignored it. It was I who dug further. It never mattered who discovered wood could float in water. In the end, the one who gets praised and recognized is the one who builds the boat."
"You're shamele—" 18 felt her shoulder getting grabbed.
"Just let him talk." 101 whispered to her.
Again she jerked her head to the side.
71 continued. "The number in this book is 145, 107. 145 is the shelf number. 14 is the row number, and 5 is the column number. For every manual, there is a book placed in the library."
"What kind of book?" asked 101.
"From what I gathered, each book gives a detailed description of a sentient being. It's similar to an encyclopedia. Since there are over 100 Dark Art Manuals, I assume there are over 100 encyclopedias. I realized finding the sentient being we're individually aligned with is the key to finding the compatibility with the manual."
18 wanted to add a comment, but 101's still gripped her shoulder. Thus, she remained quiet.
71 continued, "It was not only me who figured out the above considerations. Like, 18 said, she noticed the number's purpose. However, so did others from the 82's and 178's groups. Thus, that feat alone is not enough to make one stand out. The one who stands out is the one who figures out something the others have yet to even notice. And what others have yet to notice is the factor that links a person with a sentient being." His eyes gave a solemn look. "When I say I'm superior, I don't merely say it because I want to be superior. I say it because I'm able to accomplish what others cannot. I notice what the others cannot. I'm superior, and that's a fact."
"And again...we stray away from the main point." 101 sighed.