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The Grand Process of Deification
CH.51.1 - Time and tide wait for no man

CH.51.1 - Time and tide wait for no man

It was back in middle-school that Mican was first enlightened to his impending sense of crisis. He had bloomed early, extremely early.

While he was only a boy back then, he was a very experienced boy. He was raised as a single child as the successor of a goliath company. While his well-being had mostly been taken care of by the various nursemaids and nannies hired, he was to travel with his father on a daily basis, to be personally groomed by him.

He had been tested in a countless number of ways by his strict father.

The management process of raising a small company from the bottom up, teaching him judgement of character.

The moral dilemma of funding an orphanage despite his meagre gains, teaching him empathy, yet at the same time, ruthlessness.

The lesson to test all of his close friends and family, turning him into a slight cynic at an early age.

There wasn’t meant to be any ‘success’ at any of these tasks, they were more for him to learn from them. It was these experiences that gave him a wisdom beyond his years, granting him the foresight and perspective to envision his own future.

He remembered the moment of comprehension as if it was just yesterday, and it was simply a natural result. He treasured the memory and kept it close to his heart, and it was what fueled him in his efforts to become a greater person, to find his meaning.

It was a half-day at his extensive academy back then, and he had been picked up from class personally by his father. He had been taken to a stage-play, which was a hobby reserved mostly for the wealthy. As an extremely wealthy family, the Aster family naturally had a private balcony of their own, in which he sat to watch the play unfold.

Back then, his mind was cluttered and clouded, bogged down by the many thoughts crammed in by his father and various teachers.

As he sat silently on the comfortable velvet chair, he ungracefully leaned his arm onto the armrest, propping his chin up with his hand. As he did so, a small realization came upon him.

‘I’m bored.’

It was a small realization, really, but it was also one that changed the entire course of his life, from that very instant on.

As a young child, who could blame him for not understanding his own boredom?

He was pushed into constant education, strictly and rigidly. He knew nothing of entertainment, so how could he possibly know of boredom.

Ironically enough, it was his father bringing him to the play, to teach him the meaning of ‘relaxing being important’, that brought about his realization.

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He had understood the concept of boredom, of course, but the thought had never crossed his mind personally, of his own situation, until he sat in that soft chair, watching the play droll on.

In that instance, many thoughts ran through his head like a storm, igniting many other realizations like a piece of wood fed to a fire.

‘I am… always bored.’

Sitting in his school learning things he had no desire to learn of.

Being taken to private business meetings, where his father would force opinions out of him until he was satisfied.

Doing homework that slowly grated at his mind, like a sharp knife that continued whittling away at meat, turning dull.

It was a boredom that could kill, that was what he truly believed with both his past and present self.

He was a smart child, despite being slightly naïve. That one spark was enough to fill his entire brain with thoughts, and they continued storming through his small head until he fell asleep from exhaustion later that night.

The first thing he did as he soon as he woke up the next day was to vomit last night’s dinner out into his toilet.

Despite being a wise and educated child, Mican was still only a boy, and he was no genius.

What would he do later on in life?

Would he become like those middle-aged men, scratching their stomachs as they slowly grew indifferent to the world? Indifferent to life itself?

Would he become like his father, attending boring plays while constantly churning out money, for no apparent purpose?

What was the point of all of this?

He was basically having a mid-life crisis as a middle-schooler.

The thought of that unending and everlasting boredom seemed like utter hell to him, but he was unable to see a way out as the sole successor to a gargantuan company. There was simply no way his father would allow him a way out, it was almost like it was his destiny.

To put it bluntly, it stressed him the hell out.

As a brat with no experience in life? He had no way to deal with such immense, stress save for vomiting it all out into his toilet bowl.

It was only until two long, long years later that he was granted a portion of freedom in his life as he transitioned from middle-school into high-school. The strict private tutors no longer gave him constant lessons, and his father no longer gave him the time of day as he was too busy beginning for his career as a politician.

He was now allowed to spend freely, despite in moderation, and he was now allowed to make a name for himself by merit of his free will in decision, despite having to constantly mind the family name.

He had fortune and fame at his disposal, but he pursued neither. It was then that he found his first hint of meaning in a hobby.

It was boxing, a sport that he spent a great deal of time on. In this hobby, he was able to win several regional championships and have a title under his belt.

But it was empty in the end.

He quickly realized that it was merely escapism, and he quit the scene just as quickly as he had begun.

Pursuing other hobbies, he went through video games, writing, the violin and flute. He excelled in all of them, his effort in application allowing him to learn at the speed multiple times of that of a beginner, but he tired of them.

It was only now, as he lay gasping for air on the ground, that he felt a hint of meaning flow through him. It was not this faux escapism, and it was only a mere hint of it, but he felt it nonetheless.

After successfully beating the bone demon, he felt as if he was flying, even despite being battered and bruised on the ground.

Raising his hand towards the night sky, Mican clenched his hand around the glittering stars in the distance, as an unprecedented happiness flowed through his body.

Under the gleaming blue moonlight, a small smile appeared on the young man’s face as the twinkling stars were reflected in his eyes, from the shining night sky.