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Born To Fight

Wilson has a dream to become a pro-wrestler. he goes against his mom's wishes to follow his dream, and he will do anything to become a successful fighter. He does not get into the academy but gets caught in the scandal of various nobles. Then he joins the revolutionaries to rebel against nobles but soon realises he can't give up his dream. Note: This novel is definitely not one of those cultivation type of books the MC is some OP dude, with girls flocking around him and the likes. cos it is simply not one of them. He makes lots of impulsive decisions and is understandably naive. He will only grow stronger as the novel progresses. So, if this doesn't look like what you prefer, at least do not post some annoying reviews. Thanks for understanding.

Mich14 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
143 Chs

Chapter 18- A Machine

Wilson woke up in a very dark place. Very, very dark. He could not see a thing. He couldn't even make out his own body even though he knew he was looking at it. He tried to shout but he could not make a single sound. He tried to listen but there was simply nothing to listen to. Absolutely soundless. He could not move his limbs even though he could feel them. The only thing he appeared to be able to move was his head but it made no difference. He began to wonder where he was.

'Is this supposed to be some pathway to hell? I AM dead, right?' He was questioning himself. He had no evidence that he was on his way to the land of condemned souls or that he was moving except that he had the feeling that he was. Just a feeling! No solid proof.

"Wait a minute! Why am I being moved to hell? Don't I at least deserve heaven? Hey…..hey...anybody? Why am I not in heaven. I haven't done anything particularly wrong!" He shouted half expecting an answer.

"Wait a minute!........Have I?" He asked again. Still no answer! Only silence. Silence so great, it was painful. He could not help but think back trying to find out where he had done any wrong that could have ruined his chance at reaching paradise. But think as he may, nothing reasonable came up.

He couldn't think of anything hell-worthy, but then he realized that he didn't do anything heaven-worthy either. He then tried to stop thinking. It wasn't necessary. He would just wait and see what was going to happen next. But then, he realized it. He could not stop himself from thinking. His thoughts seemed to be the ones in control now. The thoughts slowly became more tangible. They tugged at his body and dragged him towards a portal that suddenly appeared in his mind.

He fought against his own thoughts and quickly realized it was one he had already lost. He entered through the portal and sped through it at an incredible speed for a few seconds. As he got out, he saw himself, the two year old him. He was crying over an animal, a bird, that was being buried at his backyard, then he saw a three year old him mourning his own father. Then, a four-year-old version of him crying over a close friend eaten by a wolf. He kept seeing himself crying. Several scenes of him crying or trying not to cry from the day he became conscious of his actions till the day of his death. He saw so many events. Many of which he had forgotten or had kept locked up deep in his heart. From mourning his dead pets, friends and families to crying over lost or broken items that meant a lot to him to pretending to be strong even when he was badly hurt both physically and emotionally in order to appear strong for his mother. Many scenes from his childhood flashed before his eyes. All of them, sad and pain-filled.

Then he began to see new scenes. Scenes of his mother crying after he left. This time he could hear her wailing uncontrollably as the women in the village did their best to comfort her. Then the scene was joined by another of his uncle being killed in front of him and him being unable to do nothing, absolutely nothing about it however hard he tried. More painful scenes joined in, all playing at once and then all of a sudden, he was out of the portal.

He slowed his breath. All the scenes he just watched rushed into his brain bringing with them their individual emotional pain. It was like he was reliving each and every one of them again all at the same time. There was no way he could take all that pain and he burst into tears. His heart felt like it would burst. Tears flowed down his cheeks like an immense waterfall. He cried and cried and cried. So much that he did not even notice when everywhere lit up and several hundred men and women appeared in groups of twos and threes, all watching him and shaking their heads slightly before disappearing.

He cried from all the pain as days slowly turned to weeks and weeks to months. Of course, there was no concept of time here and he had no way of knowing. Not like he cared anyway. He cried till he could not cry anymore. He finally looked around and noticed that he could see and move freely. He turned around and noticed a slightly opened door. He instantly knew that that door was his way out and he immediately walked towards it. A voice told him to wait till he had let go of his grievances but he would not listen. He began to run towards the door. The more the voice persuaded, the faster he ran, until he reached the door, and forced it open.

***************

Wilson woke up with a loud gasp. His voice was dry and husky and he instantly knew he needed water....and food urgently. He stood up with great difficulty. His bones creaked as he stood up.

'How long have I been lying down here?' he asked himself.

"You should not stand up yet!" A voice suddenly said, startling him. It sounded nice but he was not in the right state of mind to notice.

"Yeah! Well get me some food and water!" Wilson scowled and shouted at the pretty teenage girl that startled him. She frowned in return.

'So much for sounding nice.' She thought.

"I am not going to do anything until he apologise and speak politely. This is not your house and I am not your maid!" She said at him, crossing her arms over her petite chest. Wilson turned to stare at her fully and scowled even deeper.

"If you are not going to be nice, then forget it!" She said and looked away.

Wilson slowed in on her. The atmosphere got heavier with each footstep. He inched closer until he was right in front of her. Her head tilted upwards to see him staring down at her. She flinched in fear from his burning gaze the moment their eyes met.

"This is me being nice!" She gasped for breath. His breath stank....badly. He walked away, back to the bed and sat on it, facing her.

"What are you still doing staring at me?" He barked at her. She flinched in fear and scrambled to obey his order.

Meanwhile, some oldies were watching him from an orb. They were quiet while they watched before they began to converse.

"Tsk….tsk…tsk….He left earlier than he should have!"

"What do you mean by that? It's been six months! It has never taken this long!"

"I know! He seems to be filled with so much pain, I'm surprised he has not committed suicide. I have seen a lot of people expressing their emotions. But never have I seen a kid with so much pain and anger and hatred who has managed to keep it hidden in that dark corner of his heart for so long and is yet to commit suicide. Even now, he is still filled with so much anger and hatred! I don't know what to do!"

"Can't you just send him back inside?"

"No! It only works once for each person!"

"This is bad! Very bad!"

"No it's not!" they all turned to look at the one who just spoke up.

"What do you mean?"

"He is filled with so much anger and hatred for our enemies, the nobles. He is still useful for us. We were going to use him as a weapon in our war against the nobles before. But now, he is going to be our machine."

They all nodded with understanding. Then all of them looked back at the orb to continue observing the boy in the orb.