Vinegar explained that the most beautiful thing about Blackfield was that any person, regardless of rank, could achieve it.
This prison was big proof of that. There was nearly no one here that did not know how to use Blackfield.
However, like every other thing concerning Shades, it was tied to one’s comprehension ability.
Soren would never call himself dumb—regardless, he had to admit that Shades, according to ranks, did contribute significantly to a person’s intelligence.
Unfortunately, F–rank, not so much.
Nevertheless, he was long past the stage of lanting about his situation and the unfairness of the world.
"Blackfield is simple." Vinegar continued. "Whatever you can do internally, you can do externally." She stated. "The key is internally." She pointed at his chest.
"The Glass will open in T minus ten seconds." The chanical voice bood, interrupting the teaching session.
Everyone got ready and dove into the Glass.
Soren tried to comprehend what Vinegar said.
However, no matter how he tried, he just could not understand how the internal affected the external.
He did not even know what to do internally.
However, there was barely any ti to think.
[You died]
.....
[You died]
....
[You died]
...
[13 deaths later...]
Okay, I am definitely getting sothing wrong. But what is it?
The mont Soren woke up, he sat cross-legged.
He closed his eyes, activating his soul energy like Vinegar had instructed the other day.
However, nothing ca. He was starting to get really frustrated.
He punched the wall. But even seeing his knuckles peel and bleed did not help.
What he really wanted to punch was Sausage Neck’s face.
He gritted his teeth hard. And then, his eyes fell on the book at his side.
He rembered certain words he had read just before Chronovore ca back.
"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself but to your estimate of it."
— Marcus Aurelius. ditations, Book 8
This was the lesson the first pilot learned after entering the Glass but could not find food to eat for days.
It was described as a very frustrating and torturous ti in his life.
While Soren did not face that, frustration was a relatable feeling.
aning that he was just smart enough to comprehend those words in his own way.
Frustration will only grow when you asure yourself by results instead of discipline.
He was asuring himself by the result. Instead, he should discipline himself for the process involved in learning it.
He closed his eyes again. Taking a deep breath.
Punching Sausage Neck is the goal, but learning Blackfield is the process. Calm down, Soren; you can do this.
Not far from him, his roommate stirred awake.
Seeing Sorenditating, Cynthia did not disturb, and just nodded his way before she left the room.
It was probably the first ti she did not carry him on her shoulders.
To think she is so considerate—not wanting to disturb .
He smiled.
That smile eased so tension—allowing a different approach bloom in his head.
After all, with his previous loops, Soren had learned that people got their understanding of techniques and skills much differently from each other.
It could even be said that techniques and skills might differ depending on the individual.
Maybe he was getting the idea wrong.
When he learned First Form, it was because he saw Ivory’s perspective. That sparked the aning in his own.
And so he decided to ask.
He started with Handler.
"Huh? There is a special way to do it? I simply got it on my first try." He replied smugly. "But if you really want to get it, you have to feel it."
That was a disheartening answer.
But what was he expecting? Handler was an A-rank Soulbound warrior. It was his fate to have it easy in life.
Next he went to Ratler.
"I just sll the attacks before they reach . Blackfield is that simple."
Another dead end.
Again, what was he expecting from a person that was practically half rat? Soren reckoned that if Ratler mistakenly found himself in his hotown one day, the town’s madman might have a feast even before he realized Ratler was human.
He shook his head, throwing such an evil thought out of his mind.
After all, it was not Ratler’s fault, but his alone.
[You died]
...
[10 deaths later]
...And once more, Soren felt the frustration creeping at the boundaries of his mind.
Was he really talentless in this area?
Or their words were just not making sense.
Then again, it was not like any of these people were the best of teachers.
But still.
Was comprehending Blackfield that hard?
Maybe a much different approach would work.
And so he did it.
This ti around, he tried imitating how they moved.
He started with Vinegar.
A bad idea. Her flexibility was just out of this world.
[You died]
...
He tried Handler. But that also ended in a fail.
[You died]
.....
Ratler?
Possibly the worst idea he could have thought of.
Why did he even think of doing sothing like that?
He cursed his mind for even considering it.
He died, his body twisting in an unnatural manner.
It was also not the kind of death where one died imdiately.
He suffered through the pain for a while before his heart finally gave up.
Honestly, Death had never felt like such sweet release until now.
[You died]
....
It was only now that Soren looked around and his eyes settled on Slacker.
Really settled on him.
This man, not too tall or short, always kept to himself and occasionally threw a wise crack—or two.
He wore his orange jumpsuit in such a manner that it covered most of his face, allowing people to see just his eyes. Even his hands were gloved.
A bit mysterious.
But the most peculiar thing about him was that Soren never saw him use any abilities.
In all his loops, he never saw him use it once.
Did that an that Slacker had none?
Impossible. No matter how little, he definitely did.
Then the only possibility was that, like Vinegar, whose ability allowed her to whisper into people’s minds, Slacker’s ability was not applicable in such a fight.
Didn’t that an that his Shade rank was probably quite low?
Yet, he could use Blackfield. He lagged behind in the battles, but Soren was sure he could also use Blackfield.
Soren rembered him dodging so impossible attacks from the antibodies.
If there was anyone that knew how he felt, then it was soone who was similarly of a low rank.
Soren walked up to him.
"Slacker, can you teach Blackfield?"
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