Chương 74: The proper use of superspeed – brooding

The fuck was free will, anyway? It was such a dumb thing to–theoretically–not have. Dennis assumed that not having a Soul meant that he was probably a psychopath, or a sociopath, or a whatever-the-fuck-he-was-opath. He wasn't dumb, and the fact that he was more or less incapable of empathy wasn't a secret to him. Sure, maybe he was somewhat oblivious about that in the past, but now he had those memories.

He remembered being moved by things that shouldn't matter, and caring about weird nonsense, and being bothered by– pretty much everything, honestly, in ways that he wasn't now. When he had that Soul point, it was pretty hard to understand exactly what was so different about him, specifically. But now that it was back at zero, things seemed quite clear. Which was kind of ironic, since a bit of a Soul made him self-doubt like crazy. Of course things were clear to him now.

He wasn't really a different person with or without a Soul. He still wanted the same things, and hated the same things. He could experience all the same emotions with or without it. Having none of it didn't make him broken, per se. More confident, maybe. Less worried about things that weren't really important. But he was still him, at the end of it. That was the thing. The difference. Having no Soul made him very, very good at keeping his priorities straight.

He was focused, ultimately, on one thing and one thing only, and everything else was… a world without color and meaning. Just background noise. Two things existed in the world. Speedsters, and everything else. His whole worldview, his whole personality and everything he ever wanted or did was ultimately related to the one and only thing that mattered.

He stood in an alley and watched lazily as the lion-sized cat made of darkness slowly leaped straight out of a shadow, toward the back of a ragged man who hadn't noticed it yet. An ambush in progress. Certainly a mortal danger for the man, as he would surely die once that cat finished its leap. Nice to see Heroic Senses actually doing what they were supposed to do, for once. The situation was dire, but also… not really. After all, from Dennis' perspective, the cat barely moved an inch.

The world was still, and silent. Time-stop was basically a trick of perspective. Dennis had no idea how fast he was at this point, but the answer was obviously 'fucking broken OP fast'. So he had some time to ponder before he rescued the dude, and honestly, he needed it. Heroic Dash might grumble at him a little bit for not actually using the superspeed to save the guy yet, but saving someone was a process, and doing it a few milliseconds slower than he could have wasn't that big of a deal.

So he stood, alone, in a world where nothing moved but him. Pondering. Brooding. That felt pretty cool, to be honest. How had El'el put it? Karma, fate, and talent. What we were, are, and will be, and our ability to choose. So-so on the 'free will' part. Was he incapable of making choices? That was absurd. He was making choices all the damn time. But also… What would he do, if he didn't have his dream? Probably the same thing he did before he saw that movie… Nothing.

He remembered very little of his childhood, and he knew why. How many people remembered tying their shoes when they were six, or brushing their teeth? His whole world was tying shoes and brushing teeth, an endless series of utterly inconsequential events so mundane that they weren't worth being stored in long-term memory. Before he had learned to care about something, the world might as well not exist. It still didn't, for things that weren't at least a little bit related to his dream.

No shit he wanted to skip the boring parts of the elf's speech, which was everything not about making him a better speedster, or a hero. Who cared about the other stuff? Apparently, everyone else. Calling it 'free will' was not entirely right. If someone asked him, he would've explained it differently, as a person who now experienced both sides of the fence and something in between. It was the capacity to care. Among other things, probably. Like talent.

Oh, would you look at that, he was pretty talented alright– Anyways. It was clear that there was some fuckery going on with his Soul stat, but that wasn't that important right now. Obviously, the important part was how it was related to his dream. The hero part of it, to be precise. He was doing quite well on the speedster part, if he could say so.

Figuring out how his talent and lack of 'normal' Soul were related to fate, the Sword Saint skill and the soul eating guy, it was all maybe kinda a bit interesting, but he didn't really care that much. He remembered being really fucking furious at the idea that someone ate his soul, he remembered swearing revenge, but, well… He wasn't bothered by it now. It was whatever. The only thing that mattered was how it was related to him being a hero.

The only important question was whether he really needed a Soul to be a hero? Now that he had a good idea for what it actually did? Soul-Dennis would say yes, but Soul-Dennis was compromised because he cared about other things than his ultimate goal. Soul-Dennis regretted a lot of things, but he did so because those things suddenly started to matter despite their relation to his goal being shaky at best. He didn't have the strength of cold logic, the clarity that the lack of soul provided.

He doubted himself, and wasn't sure what to do in any given situation, because ultimately he wanted more than one thing at the same time, and those things were random and could and would conflict with each other. How would enjoying the warmth of a fire make him a better hero? It didn't, and yet he wasted time trying to figure out how to make one, while he could have spent mana to heal Lily more, buff his speed, or figure out how to make portals from skill spaces.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. He had figured out fire-making because he wanted to feel that warmth, in a world devoid of meaning. He wanted to share it with Lily, for a reason that he couldn't explain, even though the girl was quite dead at that moment and there was no indication that she was capable of appreciating it. All of that, instead of pursuing his ultimate goal. That was unacceptable.

Having a Soul made him care about things other than being a speedster, or a hero. Sure, caring about his missing mom wasn't a bad thing, but only as long as it didn't interfere with his dream. But obsessing over it? Why was she more important than… this dude, right in front of him? How many people would he fail to save while he was busy with a quest to find her? Heroes didn't fucking discriminate by preference.

Sure, he could see how making a grave for some nobodies was a heroic action, but wanting to share their story with others? What was the point? How many people would go unsaved simply because he was busy sitting at a campfire telling fucking stories? Having a Soul was dangerous. It was a fundamental threat to everything he wanted. He didn't need the capacity to pick another path. He had a path, and wasn't interested in any others. Having other options was just… introducing distractions.

Wasting time on unnecessary things. And ultimately, opening up to the possibility of… doing something else. Changing his mind. Deciding to become a farmer like fucking Thanos, only doing that before achieving his goal. That was fucking lame. The capacity to change his mind was a fucking weakness. The cat moved another inch. Its claws were extended, each like a small dagger, all aimed at the back of the man. The guy didn't even start turning around. Didn't he hear it? Was its jump silent?

Dennis put his hand on the monster's back. The creature wasn't made of darkness like he first assumed. Its body was warm and its fur soft. It was a creature made of flesh and bone, just with some properties of darkness. Or a shadow? Since it was leaping out of a shadow like it was some sort of portal, did that mean that it had shadow powers?

"I wonder how the world looks for you," he said to the man.

"Why do you do what you do? How do you know what you want? Is it just… uncertainty, all the time?" His Soul was supposedly recovering, much like his Constitution did. Dennis could stop that. Getting rid of it was as simple as pressing a button. He was… somewhat tempted. Having the thing brought nothing but problems, and the danger it represented was immense. It was a rational choice. But Soul-Dennis believed that he couldn't be a true hero without it.

And, despite being compromised with wanting things other than what he should, he had a strong argument for this belief. Dennis did heroic things because he wanted to be a hero. A hero was a hero because they wanted to do heroic things. Dennis wanted to save this dude because that was what a hero would do. A hero was a hero because they would want to save this dude. What mattered, actions or intentions? Was it okay to do the right thing for the wrong reasons?

Without the Soul, Dennis would be incapable of having the right intentions. He didn't know what the right intentions even were. Some might say that doing the right thing was enough, regardless of reasoning. But Dennis didn't want enough. He wanted to be The Hero. He wanted perfection. Whatever the right intentions were, he wanted those. But with the Soul, there was no guarantee that he would get them.

It was the opposite, in fact, because it would open up the possibility of him outright abandoning his dream for some incomprehensible reason. It would mean wasting time on… on relationships or something, or a random unheroic hobby, or refusing to risk his life to save someone if the chance of his death was too high… What if he became a coward, too scared of dying to do what needed to be done? What if he fell in love? What if he found happiness, in some other pointless thing that didn't fucking matter?

Without the Soul, those possibilities were closed, the tiny fraction of a Soul that was too small to be considered anything else but zero ensuring he cared about the only thing that truly mattered. With it… he didn't know what he would do. What he would want. What kind of person he would become. It was terrifying. Soul-Dennis believed that he was incapable of being a proper hero without a Soul. He was right. Dennis couldn't have the right intentions.

He would always be a half-baked replica of a hero, just because of his nature. Like a demon bound by contract to help people while caring jack shit about them. It wasn't the worst, but it wasn't the thing. But Soul-Dennis didn't understand that he represented an even greater risk. A risk of… giving up. Changing his mind. Being distracted. Not being a hero at all. It could be even worse than what he had right now. At least he was saving the dude. That had to count for something. Dennis never doubted his conviction.

Ultimately, he was terrified that he would. What if it was… flimsy? He didn't have a reason for being a hero, besides that it was the coolest thing in the world. But it was also the only thing in the world. What would happen when he realized that other options existed? What would happen if he thought that something else was even cooler? People loved all kinds of things, for all kinds of reasons. He didn't have a reason for being a hero. It was the root from which everything else grew. A core directive.

An axiom that was never doubted. He was so, so fucking terrified of doubting it and finding it lacking. He unsheathed what was left of Muramasa, and cut the shadow cat in half. It didn't feel like the blade met any resistance, despite being dull. Though it didn't so much cut as it just tore the monster into pieces with sheer inertia, splattering it over half the alley. He saw the sonic shockwave from his strike, moving slowly through the air and displacing pieces of meat and bone as it passed.

It was weird that he didn't make one simply by moving. He would have to test all that physics-breaking shit later. The world sped up again.

"What the–" The guy turned around impressively quickly, pulling out a gun in the same smooth motion. Not one of the floating people then, but a survivor from this side of the world.

"Don't worry, man," Dennis said somewhat detachedly.

"There was this cat jumping at you. I killed it." The man looked at him warily, his eyes flickering between Dennis and the bloody mess spread over the ground and most of the walls.

"Thanks?" the man said hesitantly, still aiming the gun at Dennis. Probably the fear aura thing.

"You don't have to," he replied.

"I didn't do it for you."