After catching his breath, he moved on to the next stage of training: punching the wall.
"Hoo..."
*Thudd!*
*Thudd!*
Elion hit the wall with his bare fists, making a hollow sound. His neighbors must have been terrified for the last four years.
*Thudd.*
*Thudd*
At first, he felt uncomfortable using such rough exercises, but over time, the microcracks in his knuckles healed, and his bones became stronger. They didn't look attractive, but they were durable, and he didn't suffer any injuries, unlike the poor wall.
*Thukkk*
*Thukkk*
The guy was already hitting a noticeably indented area of the wall. Surely, after a couple more years of such blows, he could say "hello" to his neighbor without leaving his room. Not that he talked to anyone at all.
*Thudd*
*Thukk*
He used different combinations of blows, starting with straight and sweeping ones and ending with spinning kicks.
"Hoo..." After catching his breath, he continued without clenching his hands into fists.
*Tokkk.*
*Thikk*
He alternated between striking with the inside of his palm and striking with his palm as if it were a knife or an axe. It is unclear what he called this technique, but he struck with the narrow outer part of his hand.
*Tokkk*
*Thikk*
Elion had come across such strange training methods in books before, but he didn't find them too strange and even enjoyed them a little. He imagined himself as a shadow master of fists.
After finishing with his hands, he decided to train his legs. In the final part of the training, he began striking with his feet from strange positions and jumping with maximum swing. He kicked with his heels, bent his toes, and kicked with the hard part of his foot. Then he changed his foot to a ballerina position and kicked with the hard upper part.
After practicing his sweeping strikes with his stick a bit more, he switched up his strategy and started delivering short strikes from less advantageous positions.
He continued this for several minutes until he finally finished.
"Pheww..." He exhaled, finally done with the easy part.
Smack-smack—slapping himself lightly on the cheeks—he began to prepare for the most difficult part of the training, which he had never been able to do before.
This time, he tried to put all his intention and desire into it, attempting it for the 1,460th time.
"Would you like to hear a... 'Joke'?" Elion asked in a mysterious tone.
Nothing happened. Again.
"Ha... Couldn't this voice just give me instructions instead of strange motivational phrases?" He lamented, burdened by the situation.
"Of all the experiments, a couple of things could still work in theory. First, say 'joke' to a living person or creature. Insects and lower forms are excluded, so it must be a creature with some semblance of intelligence. Should I test it on animals?" He stubbornly refused to interact with people in any way.
Perhaps he slightly disliked them. But mostly, it was just ordinary reluctance, and he didn't want to overcome it. Of course, during his studies, he had to interact with his teacher occasionally, and he reluctantly answered his questions from time to time. However, he could freely ignore his classmates, a privilege he took full advantage of. In the beginning, someone talked to him. But after never receiving a response, they left him alone.
If the idea with animals doesn't work, I'll have to interact with people. But that will be later. For now, I can focus on the idea with animals. Besides, no one has ruled out additional conditions or restrictions that I haven't identified yet.
Through experimentation and reading a limited number of books that mention 'Mysteries' only in passing, Elion came to a somewhat vague conclusion about what they are,
They're not alive, but it would also be wrong to call them inanimate... After all, at the very beginning, it spoke to me. Rather, it is simply something else, not entirely explainable by words or reason.
The young man's conclusion was not entirely accurate.
Finally, his training was over. He washed up in the shared bathroom, then got dressed to leave the not-so-cozy den. He had packed his small suitcase with even fewer things the day before. After putting on a simple shirt and dark pants, he was almost ready. He went to the bedside table and took the Anabel doll from it. He put it to his cheek and enjoyed the pleasant sensation. He wondered,
Can I just put her under my top hat like before? After all, when I arrive, I'll have to take it off... I don't mind having her company during lessons, but there might be active classes. Leaving the doll alone with all of these people might not be a good idea... For now, it's better for her to stay in the suitcase. He decided.
After rubbing his cheek against the doll one last time, he gently placed her in a cheap suitcase. Patting her on the head, he slammed the suitcase shut.
He placed the suitcase by the front door, put on his most ordinary dark shoes, and reached for his coat.
Enjoying its pleasant texture, he deftly threw it on and began to feel very comfortable.
After putting on his coat, he gallantly put on a black top hat that had not changed a bit over the years.
Once dressed, he turned to a small mirror hanging on the wall and began to look at himself.
A guy who was still a little shorter than his peers stared at him. His long, peach-wheat-colored hair was slightly dull and reached almost to his shoulders. His hair looked strangely airy and swirled back a little. Elion had initially cut his hair short, but he grew tired of it. As long as it didn't bother him, he didn't care about its length. Moreover, its color reminded him of his family, so he was happy to keep it long.
His eyes were yellow and seemed meant to shine brightly, but they looked dull. His gaze was cold and stern. His straight nose had grown slightly, and his cheeks had become more angular. Overall, his appearance remained the same, though his facial expression had changed.
Elion stared intently at the guy in the mirror.
After standing there for a minute, he raised his hands to his face.
Propping his fists against the corners of his lips, he roughly pulled them upward.
Elion remembered the clown's words about smiling. Even if he lost it, there was always the possibility of finding it within himself again.
You just have to reach out... But apparently, the time has not yet come. He thought as he looked at his reflection with a forced smile.
"..."
"How pathetic..."
Finishing his antics, he took the suitcase in his right hand and left the room without looking back.
Who will fix the dents in the wall?