<131 - Learned Helplessness>
Oknodie was pitiful.
Objectively and especially subjectively.
How could they abuse such a poor child to this extent?
Do they even have a conscience?
Mob had finally found a dream.
“I entered the academy just to follow my friend Jakku, that was it.”
Now it was different.
He had his own goal.
“I want to set Oknodie free.”
To live his own life free from the fate of an assassin.
He certainly deserved to enjoy such normalcy.
“Mob. You seem quite motivated these days.”
“You should try it too. The mentoring from the Dark Trading Company is surprisingly helpful.”
“Isn’t it just luck that you got a good mentor?”
“Normally it’s second-year seniors who help you, unless an upperclassman is assisting. If it’s more helpful, then it’s definitely more helpful, right?”
“Really?”
Jakku’s face didn’t brighten much.
A likely candidate for failure in the lower class.
He was lagging not because of drastic deductions like Mob, but purely due to a lack of talent.
Jakku could objectively reflect on himself.
Mob’s crisis was different from Jakku’s.
If Mob combined his effort with teaching, he could definitely avoid failing.
Jakku was different.
His pure skill alone was causing him to fall behind without any deductions.
“You have nothing to lose. Just give it a shot.”
Mob felt sorry for his friend and wanted him to share in the opportunity he had gained.
“Thanks, Mob.”
“What for, this?”
But he couldn’t miss this.
“If seniors offer you food, don’t eat it.”
“Why?”
“Just don’t eat it, okay?”
Mob had painfully learned the valuable lesson that the only food he should eat at the academy should be bought with his own money.
*
Despite not sharing a drop of blood, Mob liked Jakku immensely.
“Hey, did my expression look that bad?”
Jakku lost his parents to a contagious disease and was left alone.
In a plague-ridden area where even priests hesitated to set foot, he met orphans like himself.
Mob.
He was just a mediocre kid putting off a shabby vibe, not much different from Jakku himself.
As a child, just having a companion to survive in that perilous plague zone was a reason to be happy.
But over time, the friendship he felt for Mob began to morph into inferiority.
Even among a bottom-dwelling existence, there is a difference in talent.
How quick are your hands?
How fast do you learn?
How good is your memory?
Mob surpassed him in every field.
This wouldn’t do.
Jakku knew.
Mob would surely become someone much greater than him.
Even the facade of friendship can’t last forever.
An equal relationship eventually ends.
In fact, that equality had ended long ago.
Mob was too kind to realize it.
For years, Jakku had been consumed by worries about whether Mob would leave him or if he could survive this harsh world alone.
“It seems impossible.”
The grown-up bird flies high, and the mature beast leaves its pack in search of its own territory.
“Want to get stronger?”
Amid the anxiousness, he noticed a wandering mercenary.
They were blatantly suspicious, but it wasn’t the time to be picky.
If he didn’t become stronger, he’d be alone again, dying in solitude.
So, he approached.
He wanted to get stronger.
“To leave your friend behind.”
“Even if you beg to be sent back, you’ll suffer for years, and you might even really die.”
“But if you still want to get stronger, come with me.”
Jakku made his decision.
He would follow that mercenary.
“Mob, I want to follow that person and learn.”
“But if our friendship doesn’t change, let’s meet again where we first met.”
“It might be years from now, but we’ll reunite on New Year’s Day. It’s a promise.”
Ten years have passed since that promise.
He thought Mob wouldn’t be waiting for him.
Ten years.
Could a promise from childhood hold water in a time that changes everything?
“Hey, have you grown?”
“Mob? Is that you?”
“Why, can’t you recognize me because I’ve become so handsome?”
He had grown taller, putting on muscle and flesh.
Mob had matured to the point where you couldn’t recognize the little kid from before.
But some things hadn’t changed.
His playful banter remained just the same.
Even after ten years, their friendship hadn’t changed.
And… the inferiority he once felt was still there.
“I trained for ten years. I worked so hard. But I still can’t catch up to you?”
It was a talent that couldn’t be overcome by effort.
A reality where even Mob, who was now nothing, couldn’t keep up with the true monsters of the upper class.
Yeah, he had no choice but to accept it.
“With your talent, even if you get accepted into the academy, you won’t last a year.”
The instructor had said.
Kids like you are a dime a dozen.
Yet, the only reason he took him in ten years ago was for one simple reason.
It was the fierce will to abandon even friendship and embark on an adventure.
The moment approached where he was expected to wield that fierce determination once more.
Clink.
In his hand was a small vial.
Just swallowing this would boost his mana potential.
Of course, it was a concoction meant for the lowly.
It was obvious it wasn’t a proper product.
An unfinished item.
An experimental product.
The side effects of taking it were enormous.
If his biocompatibility was off, the user would die.
If he had just enough compatibility, he would suffer through terrible agony before dying.
If he had any tolerable level of compatibility, he might survive the terrible pain.
If he was lucky with compatibility, he could achieve dramatic growth.
But how much of a chance is that?
30%?
9.9%?
0.1%?
“Put your expectations aside. I have no talent.”
He realized this after ten years of rolling around in the organization.
The moment he took that potion would be his last.
The instructor had also warned.
“If you get expelled from the academy, you’ll lose all remaining freedom in your life. You’ll have to accept living as a dog for the organization.”
He would never reunite with Mob again.
Life awaited him in the shadows.
A life wandering in the darkness filled with the smell of blood.
He stood at the beginning of a long downhill path.
Already taking a few steps forward.
Even if he strained to resist, he might still be able to return to the entrance.
But if he was too late, he would fall down a steep slope from which he could never return to the past.
The steep slope was right before him.
One misstep, and it would be over.
That very step was contained in the vial in his hand.
“Alright, first-year friends. Don’t look so miserable. We’ll help you out anyway.”
The hand holding the vial retreated to his pocket.
Let’s postpone taking this for a while.
After all, it wasn’t often that Mob found this opportunity for him.
“Thanks for your help, seniors.”
*
It seemed that contributing to a new event was indeed helpful.
Around this time, there should have been news of accidents in the lower class, but there was none at all.
“Jezel. Is there really no news at all?”
“Are you waiting for some news?”
“It’s a secret!”
That expression clearly said there was something!
Jezel smiled warmly, like a parent seeing a child trying to hide a secret.
Feeling slightly irritated by his adult demeanor, I said, “Should I tell you? If you’re that curious.”
Jezel let out a surprised gasp as if taken aback.
His slanted eyes softened into smooth curves.
“I’m a naughty adult interested in hearing other people’s secrets. Would you please share?”
“Hmm… Alright! We’re on the same wavelength, so I’ll let you in on this one for free.”
In reality, one shouldn’t leak such critical secrets casually.
Just because NPCs know what’s going to happen doesn’t mean it leads to completely positive outcomes.
Sometimes trying to prevent something can cause an even larger accident.
Minor incidents can escalate into serious injuries or fatalities.
But still, Jezel was a meticulous, intelligent character, so it should be fine, right?
“This week, a failing lower-class student is expected to cause a fatal incident.”
“…That’s intriguing information. Can you tell me the source?”
“Hmm, explaining it sounds tedious, so I’ll keep that a secret!”
Jezel fell deep into thought.
As I realized his interest had drifted from me, my own curiosity faded too.
Guess I should focus on lectures instead!
*
Looking at Oknodie’s back, Isabel asked.
“How did it go?”
“As Arcadia said, the foundation is expecting a fatal incident to occur this week.”
“…Did Oknodie know that?”
There’s a big difference between merely being used and actually knowing about a crime.
“Could it be… he is an accomplice?”
“I doubt it. If anything, maybe that would be a relief.”
Jezel couldn’t hide his complicated feelings.
“Oknodie is just taking it lightly. About the impending fatal incident.”
“Why…? Oknodie is a nice kid.”
“Have you heard of the term learned helplessness?”
“What’s that?”
“It refers to a phenomenon where one stops trying because they feel their efforts are in vain, believing they can’t change anything.”
To him, Oknodie’s passive attitude derived from learned helplessness.
“He must have already gone through similar experiences multiple times. Thinking he failed every time he tried to seek help or prevent things… if that’s how he feels, then his reaction is understandable.”
It’s not something a child should endure.
Even for adults, it’s a harsh reality that can break your heart.
Just hearing it sends shivers of fear down the spine.
Is assassin training supposed to be this harsh?
Isabel was dumbfounded.
