Deebt took a shower at the gym, after he finished, he went out and waited for Jazz.
Jazz was still showering, and he had asked him to go home together.
Deebt sat down on one of the benches in the park.
"I trained well, but not enough." Deebt felt that today had been a waste.
Although Jazz wanted to know Deebt's limits, Deebt didn't feel he had reached his limits even after this.
He felt there was a barrier between him and his true limits, it was strange.
'Is this because of my talent?' Deebt wondered to himself.
Talent was the foundation of an individual, the higher the talent, the faster one could break through human limits and rise above them.
Those with high talent always progressed very quickly and had the advantage, but effort was still necessary.
Being talented didn't mean automatic advancement, hard work was essential, or someone with less talent would surpass you.
If you have a high level of talent and put in a lot of effort, the results will be high.
If you have a high level of talent but put in little effort, the results will be low.
If you have a low level of talent but put in a lot of effort, the results will be average.
If you have a low level of talent and put in little effort, the results will be very low.
This logic applied to everyone.
There was another problem: even with talent and effort, boundaries cannot be easily broken, the factor of time will always intervene.
That is why only a few people reached the pinnacle of humanity, not everyone was able to sustain the effort for a long time.
Ultimately, not all humans are equal in mindset.
If there were a person with limited talent who honed themselves through effort, sweat, and blood, they would reach the pinnacle, even if "limits" stood before them, they would be able to break through them by accumulating effort over the long term.
The problem for Deebt was that he didn't feel he had reached his limits.
He had exerted himself today and was tired, and he would exert himself tomorrow, but he doubted that this feeling would ever go away.
"Brother, I'm here. Let's go."
While Deebt was thinking, Jazz came up behind him and interrupted his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about, bro?" Jazz looked at Deebt curiously.
"Can't you tell what I'm thinking? You're good at analyzing people, after all." Deebt said sarcastically, a smile on his face.
"Actually, I have a simple idea that you were thinking about the training you went through, but brother, just so you know, you're the only one whose thoughts I can't figure out 100%." Jazz said, pointing his finger at Deebt.
"Why?" Deebt asked as he stood up, then began walking.
"Because no matter how hard I try, I can't find any clues that lead me to your thoughts. You speak little, your expressions are few, your body language doesn't reflect what's inside you, and the involuntary movements people usually make are missing in you, it's as if you control everything... You show what you want and hide what you want."
Jazz followed him as he explained the reason
"Hahaha, that's funny coming from you. You're overestimating me, Jazz." Deebt smiled with obvious sarcasm directed at himself.
"Hmm, okay. So what were you thinking about?" Jazz didn't care what Deebt said, so he steered the conversation back to the question he'd asked at the beginning.
'Maybe you're the only one who thinks that.' Jazz thought about his brother's sarcastic attitude.
"My mind was really preoccupied with training, like I said, but I felt that even though I put in the effort and got tired, that effort and fatigue were nothing to speak of, as if my limits were far beyond everything I'd done. Have you ever experienced this, Jazz?" Deebt explained his feelings clearly.
"That's strange, I've never experienced that. So does that mean you can do even more than you did today? Sorry, bro, I don't think I can help you with that." Jazz shook his head, he hadn't been through that situation, so he didn't fully understand it.
Besides, he had no information about this at all, they hadn't studied anything like that.
"I see."
Deebt didn't say anything after that, he kept walking absentmindedly until they reached home.
As soon as they changed out of their school uniforms, they went downstairs for dinner. Their mother had prepared chicken breasts with some rice, salad, and juice.
As usual, Jazz enjoyed his meal loudly and cheerfully, while Deebt remained silent and ate quietly.
As soon as they finished, Deebt had already gone to his room, he'd decided to go to sleep because he'd be waking up early tomorrow and needed rest.
…
Jazz entered his room, sat down in his chair, and began spinning it.
"Status"
Jazz said quietly, and then the black screen and white lines began to form.
[Name: Jazz Jacks.]
[Age: 17.]
[Health: 96%]
[Level: Dawn.]
[Next level: 1%.]
"Information"
[Strength: 22.]
[Stamina: 19.]
[Agility: 18.]
[Speed: 23.]
[Intelligence: 35.]
[Number of lines: 1,020,000.]
[Talent: Night.]
[Primary ability: Time reversal.]
[Ability activation: 1.7%.]
[Ability development: 1.02%.]
[First secondary ability: None.]
[Ability development: 0%.]
[Second secondary ability: None.]
[Ability development: 0%.]
[Third secondary ability: Soul transfer.]
[Number of souls transferred: 2.]
[Ability development: 0%.]
[Weapon: None.]
"How difficult it was." Jazz said with a serious expression as he looked at the 'Information' displayed before him.
He thought for a moment, then glanced at the clock.
He remembered he was supposed to wake up at 4 a.m. to train with Deebt, so he decided to go to sleep as well.
…
At 4 a.m., the alarm rang loudly.
"Ugh.." Deebt sighed and got out of bed.
He changed into his workout clothes, then left his room and went to wash his face.
After that, Deebt knocked lightly on Jazz's door.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Jazz opened the door a few seconds later, and Deebt stepped inside.
Unlike Deebt, whose room was a bit messy, Jazz's room was organized and carefully tidied, there were some posters of sunsets and sunrises.
Jazz looked at Deebt intently and said.
"Bro, do you know what fighting is? And the essence of fighting?"
Deebt looked at him in surprise, he didn't answer right away because his gaze seemed to be asking a question.
"Brother, I know you find my question strange, but your understanding of this matter is essential. Fighting isn't just about fists and weapons, it's much deeper than that."
"Yes, I understand that, but I'm asking about fighting from your perspective. My way of thinking might be very different from yours."
Deebt said clearly.
"That's fine, brother. If a martial artist doesn't have his own understanding of fighting, he's just another mindless imitator." Jazz explained part of his perspective.
"Okay, I get it. For me, fighting is simply survival. Staying alive means you're fighting. I don't see the point in an honorable death, it's meaningless once they throw dirt on your grave. As for the essence of fighting, it's clear to me: caution."
"Huh? Hahaha, I didn't expect an answer like that, brother. What do you think about winning and losing?" Jazz was laughing as he asked the question, so much so that tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes.
"Why are you laughing? Do you think fighting is about honor and courage? If that were the case, all the leaders in history would have fought that way, but they resorted to strategies, tricks, and deception to win. Even before the system, fighting in the world was based on this."
Deebt fell silent for a moment, then added.
"Winning is simply staying alive and continuing on to another battle, while losing is simply death."
Jazz looked deeply at Deebt.
Deebt was realistic in his view, he didn't see fighting through rose colored glasses, nor did he view death, victory, and defeat through the lens of honor and courage.
In Deebt's view, all of this was pointless, it amounted to death.
Jazz hadn't expected this kind of answer at first. For him, things were a little different.
He saw the essence of fighting as killing, yes, killing the enemy was survival too, but it was different, because it called one to advance and fight.
Deebt saw survival as the priority and found no honor in throwing dirt on a dead man's grave, this went against the general logic of honor.
'I think that's what makes you a little special, brother.' Jazz thought for a moment, then looked at Deebt.
"Brother, for me, the essence of combat is killing, nothing else. You have mentioned the historical leaders who existed even before the system was established, they were all powerful, and every battle they fought was for the purpose of killing. Our perspectives share the same foundation, you see survival, and I see killing. It's just a difference in execution, brother." Jazz began explaining his point of view to his brother with a satisfied smile on his face.
Deebt didn't think much of this, but he looked at his brother with a more contemplative gaze. Perhaps they were twins with different personalities, but they were more like a coin with two sides.
"Sorry, brother, that's our first lesson. You can go back to sleep." said Jazz as he looked at Deebt, who was lost in thought.
"What? Is that it?" Deebt asked hesitantly.
"Yes, that's enough for today. It's like our training yesterday, to know your limits."
Jazz said calmly, then stood up and pushed Deebt out.
Thud.
Jazz closed the door a little too hard.
"What the hell? Well, whatever. Training is training, even the mind needs training." Deebt said dejectedly as he returned to his room. He wasn't angry, but he was surprised by Jazz's reaction.
Jazz had considered this nothing more than an exercise or a way to understand Deebt better.
…
Morning came again, and Deebt and Jazz went out separately this time.
Jazz looked around and didn't see Milly.
He approached Deebt a little and asked him.
"Bro, where's Milly?"
"I don't know. She was sick yesterday, maybe. She left without finishing class."
"What? That's unlike her. Is something going on between you two?" Jazz was curious and tried to read Deebt's expressions, but unfortunately, his reading yielded nothing.
Deebt's face was impassive, his expression rarely changed.
"I don't know. You can go ask her." Deebt said this and moved further ahead, his mind was preoccupied with their conversation about the fight.
"You're right. I'll go after school. I'll take you with me." Jazz said, and didn't follow Deebt any further but left him to his own devices.
"You can think about it some more, bro." Jazz smiled lightly.
…
As soon as Deebt entered the classroom, he noticed that Milly's seat was empty.
'She really didn't come.'
He thought about it for a moment, then lost interest again and sank into his thoughts.
The professor entered the classroom with elegance, his black hair and steady demeanor standing out as he stood before the students.
He didn't call out names but instead directed his attention toward Deebt.
"Deebt Jacks, the principal is calling for you. He told me to tell you to go see him, so go to him."