Talent.
The timeless excuse.
"I lack the necessary talent. I should probably pursue something else."
"He's far more gifted than me. I give up."
Talent became an escape route. A justification for settling where you are. An excuse to avoid hard work.
Talent existed in my previous realm, persists in this realm, and would endure across all realms. I couldn't deny the existence of "talent." But I could deny those who claimed that the untalented could never measure up to the talented. My very existence stood as the prime example.
Regrettably, Talent presented a greater obstacle in this realm compared to most. According to Beulus, there were two distinct types of Talent here: Cultivation Talent and Battle Talent.
Cultivation Talent determined the speed at which you could absorb Genesis Essence, as they called it, into your body. This influenced your rate of growth and the extent of your strength.
Battle Talent determined how quickly you could replenish your Genesis Liquid. They referred to it as Battle Talent because it affected your ability to engage in combat effectively. In this world, utilizing Fruits drained your Duranian's Genesis Liquid. The ability to regenerate the limited Genesis Liquid in battle was great indeed.
The significance of both these Talents was evident. It would be ideal if I could excel in both areas.
"... Your Cultivation talent is ranked in the D Tier..."
Ah, there was another aspect Talent influenced, regardless of the world you found yourself in. Talent alters how others perceive you.
"... However, you possess a Battle Talent in the B- Tier, resulting in an overall C- Talent."
I observed the change in Beulus' eyes, the dulling of uninterest. It was a familiar reaction. And it was fine if I lacked overwhelming Talent; I had anticipated as much. After all, I began my previous life with nothing.
"Who cares about Talent, really! You're now sixteen and legally allowed to drink. Join me at the bar tonight and have a drink! This campus may be designed for students on the cultivation path, but us graduates love hanging out here too."
This man was strange. Wasn't he supposed to give up on me and cozy up to someone else? He must be one of those legendary idiots I often heard about in my previous life. Well, I suppose I can make good use of this man then.
A glimmer of genuine happiness appeared on my face as Beulus' words resonated within me. Like a man abandoned in the desert who finally quenched his thirst after days, a genuine smile emerged.
"Thank you, Beulus. I'll definitely take you up on that offer tonight."
Seeing me smile, Beulus appeared pleased and advised me to leave the room before getting into trouble. I assured him that I would indeed drink with him tonight. It would strengthen our bond and enhance this body's alcohol tolerance. It might seem unnecessary, but if there is one thing that I learned about politics in my past world, it's that a good alcohol tolerance goes a long way.
I opened the door and departed from the room, only to find that most of the others had been waiting for quite some time. The girl with long pink hair was engaged in lively conversation with her friends.
They discussed their Duranian and Talent rankings. Apparently, she possessed an overall B+ Talent. I found it easier to control my seemingly uncontrollable emotions now; I could gaze at her for a whole five seconds before my cheeks reddened.
'How pathetic. I, a being who has lived for 400 years, can't handle some reckless emotions? It does make me wonder why I can't. Perhaps I'm not used to a young man's body? Hold on. That could be it. If the soul of a 400-year-old stoic suddenly entered the body and mind of a hot-blooded 16-year-old boy, then perhaps a sort of balance was thrown off scale...'
I waited beside my door for about ten minutes while contemplating these wonders. During this time, a few more individuals left their rooms. Some wore joyful smiles, while others... well, let's just say they did not. This world appeared harsher than it initially appeared. At the age of sixteen, one's entire life was decided in a single moment—truly cruel. I must remind myself not to let that Beulus fellow throw me off guard.
I surveyed the surroundings and noticed that all the students were present, except for one. That averagely-looking boy with a haughty demeanor, Spiravit. Shortly after I noticed his absence, a door swung open. Spiravit emerged, and it was immediately evident that something was amiss. The way he walked exuded even more arrogance than before. His smile was no longer smug; it resembled that of a king looking down upon peasants. I could anticipate his next words even before he uttered them.
"I have been blessed with an overall Talent grade of A+!"
He declared this as if he were the protagonist of a novel. His words lacked concern for others, who were likely mere ants to him by now. I had witnessed such developments before. He would probably utter something equally trite next, such as, 'My name is Spiravit Nima, and you'd do well not to forget it! I am destined to-'
"-become the next Sect Leader. So, if you wish to live comfortably from now on, kneel at my feet and beg. HAHAHA!!"
Just as I expected. It's almost as if they can never come up with something original. But I understand. If I were a sixteen-year-old with the prospect of achieving greatness, I might find it difficult to resist the temptation as well. And if my past life taught me anything about young men suddenly bestowed with tremendous power, I know what Spiravit would do next.
"Quis... oh Quis. I pity you, truly. In fact, I apologize for my earlier rudeness. I wish to start our relationship over. How about an icebreaker... oh yes, that's it! I've already told everyone the grade of my Talent, so why don't you share yours as well?" He asked this question in an almost sarcastic tone, as though he already knew the answer.
My body jolted upon realizing that he was addressing me. For a moment, my face contorted with displeasure. After regaining my composure and clenching my teeth, I managed to utter the following in a barely audible voice, "I... I have an overall Talent grade of C-."
My intended proud declaration of my Talent had transformed into a mere whisper as I confronted the reality of my actual Talent. In response, Spiravit's smile seemed to widen.
"Pardon me? I couldn't quite hear you. Would you mind repeating it, but louder this time?"
He had undoubtedly heard my initial words; he was simply reveling in cruelty.
"I said... my overall Talent grade is C-."
This time, I managed to inject some force into my words. Spiravit's crude smile grew, relishing the moment.
"What was that? I believe some people farther away might not have heard you. Could you please repeat it loudly?"
My body tensed up, resistance apparent in my posture. It was evident that everyone present had heard my earlier statement, but Spiravit desired to humiliate me further. I wonder what goes through a person's mind as they engage in such behavior. What do they gain from such actions? Satisfaction? Pride? Perhaps even pleasure?
Summoning my courage, I took a deep breath, preparing to shout out my previous words. "I HAVE AN OVE-"
"Just stop it, Spiravit. Can't you see you've humiliated him enough? Give the poor boy a break."
Midway through my embarrassing proclamation, someone interjected. It appeared that they were defending me. Considering Spiravit's earlier proclamation of possessing an A+ Talent, only one person came to mind as someone who could challenge him.
It was the girl with pink hair.