The Boy Who Gave Up

"The world isn't fair."

Noah's father had told him that when he was just a kid, and he remembered it like it was yesterday.

His father had just lost his job in a round of layoffs. Noah saw him come home sobbing that day.

Why wouldn't he be crying? He had given his best years to that company, never missing a day of work, always loyal.

Yet, in the end, a privileged rich kid — who was also the Assistant Director's nephew, by the way — got the position Noah's father deserved.

That incident shattered his father.

He didn't take it well.

He accused the Assistant Director of unfairness and tried to punch him… but ended up getting arrested for aggravated assault.

From there, his life only spiraled downhill. Blacklisted by other companies in his field, he was left jobless.

Defeated and crushed, he turned to alcohol and cheap drugs. Noah's mother tried to get him back on track at first, but she eventually had enough.

At last, she ran away with a wealthy guy she had met while picking up her drunk husband from a bar, taking Noah's baby sister with her.

A few days later, she sent divorce papers.

After that, it was just Noah and his father.

But just to be clear – Noah didn't exactly love that guy. He didn't even respect him as a man. His father never made an effort to work or help around the house. He was merely a shell of his former self.

Noah had to work part-time after school to support them both, cover his tuition, and even pay his father's medical bills after he was diagnosed with cancer, all while taking care of the home chores.

But despite everything Noah did, his father never once hugged him or told him he was proud. He just drank as usual and ignored him as best he could.

In fact, Noah couldn't recall having even one proper conversation with him.

That's why, when his father passed away, Noah felt… relieved.

Maybe that made him a bad person, but his father's death lifted a weight off his shoulders. No more caretaking, no more medical bills. No more nothing!

He was free.

So, yeah, Noah didn't love him or got to learn much from him… except that the world isn't fair and justice is merely an illusion.

Every day, the powerful exploit the weak. The rich get richer while the poor struggle. Happy endings? They don't exist in this world.

Loyalty is ignored in favor of nepotism and goodwill eventually gives way to corruption, while hard work is overshadowed by god-gifted talent.

Those who try to change the world are silenced, their voices drowned out by those who benefit from the status quo.

In a world like that, where even the tiniest sliver of hope is immediately snuffed out, is it even worth trying? What's even the point?

Take him, for example. Noah had to drop out of college because he stood up to a bully who was harassing a girl. By sheer stroke of luck, or lack thereof, that boy turned out to be the governor's son. His dear daddy ended Noah's future with one phone call to the Dean.

Now Noah juggled multiple low-end jobs just to get by.

Just last night, while working a late shift as a waiter at a fancy restaurant upstate, he ran into his mother and her new family.

Noah wanted to avoid them desperately, but he had to take their order. So, he steeled his heart and walked up to them.

And guess what his mother said when she saw him after all these years?

"You're embarrassing."

Yeah, apparently, his job was beneath her new upper-class status. She said she always knew he would end up just like his father—a sad failure. But what did she even know about him?

So what if his life didn't turn out as planned?

So what if he wasn't exactly wealthy or successful?

One thing he sure as hell wasn't was sad. In fact, he was happier than ever. And what was the key to his happiness? He had no expectations! That way, he could never be disappointed.

He had simply given up on everything.

Yes, it might sound depressing, but maybe that's the secret to true happiness. Everyone should try it. Embrace it. It's the only way one can be free!

…Anyway, the point is that quitting while one is behind is not inherently a bad thing. There is nothing to be ashamed of. As a matter of fact, giving up feels great!

So...

"Why the hell is this bastard not giving up?" Noah growled in frustration, barely resisting the urge to smash his controller as he reminded himself how expensive it was.

He was in his small studio apartment – it was dark and messy, with crumpled ramen wrappers and empty soda cans littered all around the room.

The only source of light came from the screen of his old TV, to which his second-hand gaming console was plugged.

He was playing a game called Spirit Realm Chronicles.

It was an RPG-visual novel hybrid. The game was surprisingly good, considering it was developed and launched by an indie studio as their first project.

It had every element that makes a game great – intricately crafted storylines, challenging yet rewarding gameplay, good graphics, and some of the best BGMs Noah had heard in recent years.

Sure, the game started with the typical academy setting cliché, but it developed into so much more. Even the harshest critics had deemed it a near-perfect game with a staggering 8.5/10 stars rating across the internet.

Why only near-perfect, then? Well, because the game was nigh-impossible to beat.

The total gameplay time was somewhere between 100-120 hours, but if one wanted to achieve full completion, it was going to take up around 165 hours to do so.

Moreover, there were around twenty main routes, fifteen hidden routes, and six special routes. Meaning the game had a total of forty-one endings.

Yet, none of them were true happy endings!

The creators had claimed that there was indeed a happy ending, though it was not very simple—or easy, for that matter—to achieve. But it was there.

Well, Noah, and the whole fanbase in general, called bullshit.

It had been six months since the game was released and became an instant hit, yet not a single soul had been able to find that happy ending.

People had tried endlessly, playing hours upon hours to get to the promised happy end, but they all failed.

There was just no way to beat the final boss – well, not unless you wanted most of the main characters, the protagonist himself, and half of the world to die.

There are a few routes where the protagonist saves the world and his allies from certain doom, but even then he'd make a huge sacrifice — which is basically getting imprisoned in Void for all eternity.

That couldn't exactly be called a happily ever after now, could it?

So, as it had become his usual routine, tonight on Sunday's eve, Noah was spending his weekend facing the final boss of the game, the Spirit King, once again after weeks of preparation.

And just as usual, no matter what path he chose or strategy he employed, the outcome was the same as always: defeat or the world's destruction by the Spirit King's overwhelmingly profane powers… sometimes even both.

He had tried every conceivable tactic he could find on the online forums or think of himself, yet nothing helped. He was trapped in a relentless cycle of failure and loss.

The Spirit King just wouldn't give up!

You could try to kill his entire army, decimate his corrupted kingdom, and put an end to all his malevolent plans… but in the end, he would always find a way to screw the protagonist over! Always!

Needless to say, Noah was beyond annoyed by this point.

"Dammit!"

After his final run ended in yet another bitter defeat, Noah snapped in a mix of exhaustion and frustration, throwing his controller onto the couch, the soft clatter echoing through his cramped apartment.

"Why the hell can't I win?!" he muttered, glaring at the screen as the game's dramatic "Game Over" sequence played for what felt like the hundredth time.

This time he did everything perfectly! He chose the most secure routes, collected all the cheat Cards, built a strong Deck, and leveled up his Potential tremendously!

Still, he lost! How?!

What could have been done differently?!

What else could he do now?!

"Fuck this!"

Feeling drained, Noah decided to call it a night.

He looked around his small apartment… piles of trash, an unmade bed, and dirty dishes soaking in the kitchen. The once cozy space now felt like a prison of his own making.

With a sigh, Noah grabbed his jacket and stepped outside. He was in no mood to do the dishes or cook anymore.

•••

The night air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the fusty and suffocating atmosphere inside his room.

He walked through the quiet streets to get to the nearest convenience store, his footsteps slightly unsteady. The road was deserted, bathed in the dim glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that seemed to move with each step he took.

He reached the store and walked in through the automatic gates, the bright fluorescent ceiling light near the entrance fluctuating slightly.

The aisles were empty, save for a solitary hunched figure stocking shelves. It was an old man with a bald head and long, gray goatee.

His name was… something that Noah had forgotten. He was the store's owner.

There was a rumor that the old man was crazy.

Apparently, the geezer had more than once run out to the streets, shouting at people that God had died and the end was coming or something along those lines.

He had also flashed people on multiple occasions.

So, crazy and a pervert.

Well, in his defense, the old man lived alone. He had no family to speak of and not many acquaintances from what Noah had observed over the years.

So, it wasn't a surprise that he was a bit senile. Living all alone with just one's own thoughts could do that to a person. Noah knew it all too personally.

…Oh, well. Whatever.

Whistling a melody, Noah wandered down the rows, eventually selecting a tiffin for dinner. As he approached the counter, he fumbled for his wallet, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in.

"Just this," Noah said, placing the tiffin on the wooden counter as the old man came to scan the item. After scanning it, he handed Noah his change.

Was it just him or was the old man looking at him kind of… somberly… almost sympathetically?

Well, it wasn't something new. Noah was short, malnourished, and had deep, baggy dark circles under his eyes. His slightly long black hair was almost always dirty and disheveled.

In other words, most of the time he looked only a bit better than a random local beggar. So, he was used to people pitying him — after all, it was easy to take advantage of such people.

There were also some who were disgusted by him – those he hated.

Shaking his head, Noah pocketed the coins and was about to leave when suddenly the old man spoke something – his tone low and inaudible:

"In the place where dreams end, find the name never spoken. Only there will the heavens yield."

Noah looked up, confused. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

—Thwamm!!

Before the old cashier could repeat, a deafening crash shattered the night's silence. Noah barely had time to react as a big truck smashed through the wall of the convenience store, plowing into him with brutal force.

Pain exploded through his body, a searing agony that stole his breath.

He couldn't seem to understand what had happened as he was thrown against the shelves, the impact crushing his bones to splinters.

He plopped to the floor, his body mangled and his vision blurring.

The world around him suddenly became a chaotic blend of flashing lights, the distant wail of sirens, and the frantic shouts of bystanders, but everything seemed to be fading away.

His head was a mess; he couldn't seem to form one comprehensible thought. But he instinctively knew one thing—he was about to die here.

He… really was about to die…

As Noah lay there, his life slowly ebbing away, he felt a rush of panic and inexplicable fear. He was suddenly cold… so very cold.

There were a multitude of emotions bombarding his consciousness — sadness, horror, and desperation to name a few — but only one triumphed over all else.

Regret.

It was true what they say about life flashing before one's eye at the time of death.

As Noah relived his life in a blink, he suddenly regretted the bitterness, the resentment, the moments he had given up. He thought of his father, his mother, and the pathetic life he had led.

He was going to die…

He was actually going to die without making anything of himself! He would die as no one, forgotten after becoming a morning news headline! He didn't form any long-lasting relationships, nor did he do something commendable!

He didn't leave a single mark of his existence behind – proof that he had lived! He was going to die, and no one was going to remember him!

No one was going to even mourn him…

Maybe he could've tried harder, hoped more, fought against the despair that had inevitably consumed him.

But in the end… all that he was left with was regret.

He tried to utter something, but his throat was drowning as he choked on his own blood, not able to mutter a single noise as his final breath died on his lips.

He tried to move, but his body felt limp, not responding to his brain. He tried to stay awake… but he was oh so very tired. So, so tired.

In the end, he closed his eyes, giving up one final time as darkness came and claimed him.