Huge thanks to CARLfor sponsoring 6 chapters of Possessing Nothing! (3/6)
(T/N: trigger warning for suicidal thoughts)
Sararak.
Sarararak.
All you could see was sand: pouring from the hourglass onto the floor. It was a terrible way to tell the time because it was hard to tell exactly how many days had passed.
He didn’t want to care about anything, so it was a world without anything. Serene silence. It was a nostalgic feeling, bringing Mush’s mountain to memory. So was abstinence. In actual fact, he thought that this practice was better than that of Mush’s mountain or Shaolin. At least there was no suffering from taboos, and no facing his inferiority.
In such a world, practicing by himself was rather comfortable.
That’s what it was like at first.
(T/N: 睡魔 sleeping/lying down + devil/magic…dormant witchcraft?)
This world of absolute silence became a far more terrible hell compared to Mush’s mountain. It didn’t take long before that happened. No matter how much he moved and moved, his body did not tire. He didn’t get hungry either. He missed the rain that came every so often on the mountain. He missed hunger. He longed for thirst.
He ate food even though he didn’t have to. Drank water as well. He drank too much. However, even if he felt the taste, there was no feeling of fullness. No matter how much he drank.
No one pointed it out. The memory of his martial arts remained clear, but practicing felt awkward rather than fluid. He felt like something was off. When he thought about it, he realized it was impossible to check what was wrong.
So he hit a stumbling block. It was a world where only his consciousness existed, but his qi could be used. However, as soon as the qi got exhausted, it would immediately rise again. When he circulated it incorrectly, it reversed his meridians, and the resulting pain was more pronounced than reality.
How much time had passed?
Wasn’t it 100 years yet?
At some point, he came to wish for it all to be over.
10.
The hourglass still remained. He stopped practicing the Nine Heavenly Spears technique and moved to the Rana technique.
He was garbage.
13.
He shouldn’t have done it. But he became aware of it too late. Humans do not change. It’s hard to change. So he would rather pretend to be someone other than himself. But being someone else doesn’t suit him. That’s why his swordsmanship was so imperfect. He recalled what Namgoong Heewon had said. In the meantime, he practiced Nine Heavenly Spears technique some more.
It didn’t go well.
15.
He mulled over the secrets of his consciousness. He recalled his enlightenment from before. In the world of consciousness, memories emerged clearly. He did not forget the practice of Shaolin. He thought it was a good thing.
27.
He didn’t get blisters on his hands even though he stabbed, stabbed, stabbed, and stabbed again. He wasn’t tired. How many times had he stabbed forward?
30.
He wielded the spear and stabbed forwards. Among all the different spear techniques, Shaolin’s method was particularly outstanding. But he was no monk of Shaolin.
41.
What made a person a human?
50.
He had half an hourglass left.
53.
But what did he get?
60.
A little bit more.
74.
Even if he kept doing what he was now, nothing would change. He must be killed. He had to kill the ‘him’ who was weak and garbage. But who would fill in the blanks for those who were already dead? Was he the one supposed to fill them?
81.
‘Dok Bejun. Sorry for killing you. I shouldn’t have killed you.’
90.
He knew how skilled he was. Despite only a little sand being left, he had made little progress. Was he not devoted? During the past 100 years, he practiced the spear without sleeping.
He felt a feeling of inferiority even though there was no genius around. Ten people had previously undertaken Denir’s trial. He said everyone easily passed the first 100 years. But what about him?
Did he work hard? Really? No sleep, no eating, no drinking.
He didn’t work hard. Since he was killing time, waiting blankly, without holding a spear.
It was hard to change. He wanted to kill himself. Kill his weaker self, to be stronger. That’s why he was here. He could only crawl, not walk. He hadn’t learned to walk. He only learnt to walk backwards. Ah, Plam. Plam. I shouldn’t have overcome you back then. Mush. You were wrong.
95.
Let’s stop.
97.
He shouldn’t stop.
99.
The sand ran out.
100.
“Again.”
Lee Sungmin muttered with a hoarse voice. Others who challenged this trial said they had easily spent the first 100 years and got something, according to Denir. That wasn’t the case for Lee Sungmin.
He was proud to have swung the spear as many times as he did in the past years. However, his martial arts did not make much progress. There was no advancement of a no-class here, and no forced growth of skills. Simply swing, swing, and swing. Through that repetition, he had to find new ground and breakthrough it.
It was difficult for Lee Sungmin. For 100 years… How many times did he despair? How many times did he give up? How many years had it been since his spear had not been swayed? What had he done for 100 years? What was abandoned, and what was obtained?
That’s it.
Lee Sungmin dragged his feet toward the hourglass. The sand no longer fell. Reaching for the hourglass, Lee Sungmin swallowed a gulp. Just… Couldn’t he just stop here?
No. That could not be done. If he quit here, there would be no difference. He turned and tried to run away, but changed his mind quickly. He had to do it. He would still be disgusted with himself if he couldn’t do it. If he hit the wall again, he would feel the oppression of inferiority and defeat crashing down on him.
He hated that.
He didn’t want to do that anymore. Lee Sungmin swallowed back his thoughts and took hold of the hourglass.
[Absolute moron.]
Denir’s ridicule seemed to ring in his head, and the first day of 200 years began.
He knew helplessness. He knew weakness. He knew ugliness. He wanted to let go. Throw himself away. No longer think that he wanted to change, but actually, change. Not be content with a little change. He thought over and over again, lost consciousness and opened his eyes again. The sand had piled up on the other side of the hourglass.
What happened? It wasn’t difficult to work out. He went crazy for a moment. Or for quite a long time. What did he do during that crazy moment? He couldn’t even remember.
No. He wasn’t curious. But he thought it was a waste of time. His weak mind was also disdainful.
Time flowed on. Even though the practice here was not reflected in his body in reality, he knew from back when he first returned to the past, that it was important to ‘remember’. That was what made it possible for the Lee Sungmin of that period to live. The reason why Lee Sungmin was confident that he could live differently from his previous life was because of the memories of the days he had lived as a mercenary.
The practice was tedious. He began to practice with a feeling of lifelessness filling him. There was a lot of time. He didn’t have to spend this time effectively.
All he had to do was hold on.
In any case, it would be fine as long as he didn’t go crazy.
Half the hourglass was emptied. 100 years had passed. These 100 years were far more rewarding than the past 100 years he had experienced. He could confidently take a few steps forward. But it was not enough. Inner force, Nine Heavenly Spears technique, and Shadowless – Movement technique.
He decided to go learn martial arts.
In order to balance the distorted core body, it is necessary to perform the core method. If the trial is reached, it naturally faces the wall, and how to break it depends on your ability. Was it possible to face such a wall in this world as well?
Let’s do it. He had a lot of time anyway. If it was not enough, he could turn the watch over. It seemed that he had a proper purpose. Lee Sungmin felt delighted.
It was a kind of delight he hadn’t felt in a few hundred years.
The sand no longer fell. The 200 years were over. Lee Sungmin, who was meditating, opened his closed eyes.
“It’s great at this point.”
Lee Sungmin muttered with a grave face. He had been honing his skills for 100 years, but still didn’t get the feeling of moving forward, let alone reaching a bottleneck. Lee Sungmin realized just how crappy his talent was. Still, in reality, not in the world of consciousness, his achievements in martial arts had gradually improved. If he thought about it, the reason why it was possible to achieve such achievement was because he had corrected the growth of his martial arts, starting from his physique as a No-Class.
But in the world of his subconscious, such corrections did not apply. Lee Sungmin here had not received any growth correction. Instead of applying any skills, he was directly testing his prowess in martial arts. So the growth was slow. Lee Sungmin realized the frighteningly phenomenal talents and skills of martial artists who were born in this world, like Jihak and Namgoong Heewon. They had reached that level without practicing something like skills.
‘Wijihoyeon must be as strong as a monster. In addition to her overwhelming talent, she also sharpened skills rigorously.’
They were all the big figures he met so far. They were them, and he was him. Lee Sungmin slowly woke up. A few decades ago, he felt helpless. But recently, that feeling had almost disappeared. He had practiced his spear force over and over again, but it hardly grew in quality or quantity. The upside was that the practice cleared his head.
“Has it been 300 years yet?”
Lee Sungmin muttered and reached out to the hourglass. After turning it over, the trial will go for another 300 years. When time runs out, Lee Sungmin would have practiced for 600 years.
He was tired of thinking that way, but he turned the hourglass without any hesitation.
It wasn’t until 600 years that he found learning martial arts to be fun.
He realized he shouldn’t only practice martial arts. Heart, mind, and body. If he learnt only martial arts, the balance would not be right. In this world of his subconscious, there would be no backlash, but it was necessary to master the martial arts evenly for when he went back to reality.
The 300-year time was easy to divide up. He marked a notch on the hourglass. The scale divided into three would have roughly 100 years of time for each part. He decided to practice 100 years of strengthening his inner force, 100 years of Nine Heavenly Spears technique, and 100 years of Shadowless – Movement technique.
That’s what he planned.
The 300-year practice was both boring and enjoyable. Surprisingly, his head felt clear. The first 100 years of this trial were insanely terrible, but the subsequent training was better than the first time. Did he get used to it? Lee Sungmin shook his head.
From a certain point, he no longer abused himself. His sense of inferiority started diminishing. Perhaps it was only hiding deep in his heart, and might raise its head again in the future.
But he didn’t want it to be so.
He turned the hourglass over again.
He strengthened his resolve. Lee Sungmin tried to recreate the spear that caused the mortal wound in the fight against Ghost Blade. He failed. After 600 years, he still could not recreate the technique he used to kill Ghost Blade.
“Of course. If I tried it a few times and succeeded, it wouldn’t have been like me.”
Lee Sungmin laughed and nodded. Of course, the unexpected failure was enjoyable. There was no need to be frustrated by failure. There was plenty of time. So he moved on. More. Further.
When it had been 1000 years, he reached the wall. Lee Sungmin clutched his stomach and laughed.
“I practiced for 1000 years and finally reached the wall of transcendence!”
Denir lied to Sungmin Lee. This trial wasn’t just training his consciousness in the subconscious world. You could continue cultivating, but reaching new levels just took longer than usual. No matter how much one practiced, they couldn’t achieve the same efficiency as in reality. So the genius experts would go crazy and die. They weren’t used to frustration and failure. They thought they could do it because they were known as geniuses. However, if they failed for hundreds of years on end, they would definitely go mad no matter what.
It wasn’t the same story with Lee Sungmin. He was very familiar with the truth. That he was foolish. That he had no talent. He was all too familiar with inferiority, self-deprecation, and despair.
“I saw the wall after 1000 years. How much more do I have to do to cross the wall? ”
Lee Sungmin challenged himself while feeling joyful.
500 years began.
“I did it.”
He succeeded in reproducing the spear force that killed Ghost Blade. Right. Simply recreated. He couldn’t do anything more. Although it was possible to replicate the strike, it was impossible to make a different move with the same power.
“It’s me we’re talking about after all. A pitiful and foolish bastard.”
Lee Sungmin hummed, grasping the spear.
600 years.
‘When will I become an ascendent?’
He thought dazedly.
‘Maybe I’ve already gone crazy. Or am I dead?’
Even so.
“Shall I do a little more?”
Lee Sungmin said with a smile.