The next morning,
TICK! TICK! TICK! TI—!
I cursed under my breath as I shut down the alarm, my haste might have been a problem, I glanced down at the broken device lying on the floor, its glass shattered, with the hands displaced from their usual position.
I looked at the calendar, oh yeah, I had just uh... two weeks to the sports festival. I spent a few minutes just staring at it, to you know, dispel my sleepiness. I then turned to the broken alarm.
I let out a deep sigh as I knelt down, carefully gathering the shattered glass fragments. I then wrapped them in paper to prevent injury and discarded them in the trash bin.
I looked outside, it was one of those surprisingly nostalgic colors that blended into the sky. The clouds were looking fluffier than ever and the sound of birds chirping filled the room. The morning was pretty clean till now. I like it.
I walked to the bathroom and opened the door after switching on the lights. I took out my brush before I started brushing my teeth, lazily enough. Holidays were very boring compared to the other days of the week, though it might be subjective.
Then, I got ready, wearing some casual clothes, old ones since I was planning on experimentation today. I then disabled friction as I slide through the hallway, resembling a man skating. I quickly went down the stairs and found my way into the kitchen. The fridge was open and Hajime was... making an omelet. I slowly went to the refrigerator and took out a water bottle, before I fled from the scene, avoiding a conversation with him, it's morning, a new day, wouldn't want that to be ruined.
So, it's better to be productive, they said. Some old wise men. I don't know their names. I don't think anyone knows their names. But they said it.
But for these two weeks, I decided to listen to these wise men.
I went outside to our backyard, a small but surprisingly spacious area enclosed by a weathered wooden fence. Patches of dry, uneven dirt covered most of the ground, with only a few blades of grass managing to cling to life. A couple of old garden chairs sat off to the side, unused and gathering dust, their once-white paint now chipped and dull. The air smelled faintly of damp soil and rust from the ancient sprinkler system that hadn't been turned on in years. I'll tell you about it, it smells like shit.
It wasn't always like this. I remember when the grass was greener when my father actually cared about keeping this place in order. But now? Now, it was just another neglected part of the house. A reflection of him—shut-in, disconnected, probably buried in some math bullshit instead of, you know, actually living.
I kicked a stray pebble across the yard, exhaling.
My goal wasn't to break a new law or something, it was the amount of laws I could break at a time.
Let me break it down for you— if I could, theoretically, break two at once, I could break one twice... get it?
I can disable a law for the entire area, but also reinforce it for something specific.
I stretched out my hands, focusing on the space around me. The air felt still, almost expectant. Breaking a law was simple—I had done it thousands of times. But breaking multiple at once? That was where things got complicated.
I decided to start small.
First, I disabled friction again, letting my feet glide effortlessly across the dry dirt. Simple. Easy. It barely took any effort anymore. But now came the hard part—reinforcing friction for something else.
I grabbed another small rock from the ground and concentrated. Instead of making it float or ignoring gravity, I focused on its surface, willing it to grip onto my palm like glue.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, slowly, I felt resistance. The rock clung to my skin unnaturally, refusing to budge even when I tried to shake it off.
A grin crept onto my face.
This was it. I had broken one law while strengthening another. Two forces, opposing, but existing at the same time.
I pushed further.
I disabled air resistance around me, making the world feel eerily weightless. My movements became smoother, unhindered by drag. At the same time, I reinforced it around a single leaf caught in the wind. Instead of drifting gently to the ground, it stopped mid-air, frozen as if caught in invisible tar.
My head throbbed.
I staggered, breathing heavily. This was the problem. Breaking a law was one thing, but maintaining two opposing ones at the same time? It drained me faster than anything else.
Still, I had done it. I'm a f***ing genius, Martin.
With enough practice, I could refine this—make it easier, and less of a burden. If I could layer laws, and combine them efficiently, I could pull off things no one else could... I mean, I can already do things no one else could do, but a level higher.
I took another breath and clenched my fists.
Then, I dropped the effects, returning to the normal state. It was easy for basics such as friction but for the more complex ones...
I broke out of my trance as I looked beside me, on the table, a plate, with breakfast on it.
Did he make it? Well, duh. "Oi! You made it, you could've at least told me so." I told him, but there was not reply. Attitude, eh?
Whatever, not worth it.
So, for example, durability. It was a tough case usually, so using it twice is very taxing, probably. I wouldn't risk using it now, maybe later.
I leaned back in the chair, staring at the plate for a moment longer than I should have. It sat there, waiting—like some kind of silent invitation. I wasn't sure what annoyed me more: the fact that he made it, or the fact that he still cared enough to try.
Not that it mattered.
I stood up and walked away, leaving the plate untouched.
He didn't want to answer to me, huh? Okay, alright.
I spent the next half an hour doing the same thing repeatedly, trying to master it.
"Ey, a bit more focus on this," I told myself.
"Now, I just gotta amplify it with just enough energy." I practiced controlling the magnitude of the broken law and how much it affects things, I took the rock and began floating it, and reinforced it, making it stay stationary in the sky.
I was sweating bullets basically, as my head was as wet as it could get.
"Yes!" I muttered, a breakthrough was a breakthrough indeed, wasn't it?
Yeah, you saw what's happening, let's get through fast, shall we?
Day 2
I stood in the backyard, rolling a pebble between my fingers as I focused. The goal was simple—break and reinforce two laws at the same time, just like yesterday.
I disabled friction beneath my feet, letting myself glide across the dirt effortlessly. Then, I gripped the pebble tighter and reinforced friction on it, making its surface grip my palm like glue.
This was easy now. Too easy.
I let go of the pebble, letting it drop. Then, I added another layer to the experiment—disabling air resistance around me. The world seemed to slip into slow motion, my movements becoming smooth, almost eerie.
Then, I reinforced air resistance around a single leaf drifting from the tree above. It stopped midair, frozen in place.
So far, so good.
I pushed further.
I disabled inertia in my own body. It was a risky move, one I hadn't quite mastered, but if I could do it while holding the other laws in place—
A sharp pain shot through my skull.
"Shit—!"
My legs buckled. The world tilted. My vision blurred.
Then, suddenly, my body snapped forward, inertia reasserting itself all at once. I stumbled, barely catching myself before I hit the dirt.
I sat there, panting. My head throbbed like I'd been hit by a truck.
This was the problem. Breaking and reinforcing laws was fine on their own, but layering them together? Holding them for too long? It drained me faster than anything else.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked up.
The leaf was still hanging there, unmoving.
A grin crept onto my face.
"Still counts."
Day 3 – The Gravity Mistake
"Alright. Just a little bit. Not too much."
I stood in the backyard again, staring at a small rock in my hand. My previous attempts at manipulating gravity had gone… poorly. But I wasn't going to let that stop me.
I took a deep breath.
Disabled gravity on the rock—easy. It floated gently above my palm, weightless.
Next, I reinforced gravity on something else.
My own body.
WHAM.
I hit the ground so hard I thought my spine had shattered.
I gasped for air, my body feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. Every movement was a struggle, my arms trembling as I tried to push myself up.
I forced myself to undo the effect. My body instantly felt normal again, but the sheer exhaustion was enough to make me collapse onto my back.
I lay there, staring up at the sky.
"Not my best idea," I muttered.
A shadow loomed over me.
I turned my head and found Hajime standing at the back door, arms crossed. He'd probably heard the impact.
"Training hard?" he asked.
I grunted. "You could say that."
He nodded slowly, then hesitated—like he wanted to say more but wasn't sure how. Instead, he just said, "Be careful."
Then he walked back inside.
I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath.
Yeah. I had no idea what to do with that.
Day 5 – The Breakthrough
I sat cross-legged in the backyard, staring at the dirt. Today was different. I wasn't just breaking laws—I was redefining them.
Instead of disabling friction, I altered it. Instead of making something weightless, I manipulated its weight selectively, by reinforcing it a bit by supplying very little energy.
I took a small rock and focused.
I reinforced its inertia, making it harder to move. At the same time, I disabled friction around it. In theory, it should have slid across the ground with zero resistance but still required more force to push.
I nudged it.
The rock shot forward like a bullet, skidding across the yard before slamming into the fence with a loud CRACK!
"Yes!" I grinned. This was it. This was huge.
I heard a slow clap from behind me.
I turned and found Hajime standing on the porch, arms crossed, watching me.
"Impressive," he said.
I blinked. That was… new.
"You've been watching?" I asked.
Hajime shrugged. "You've been making a lot of noise."
I scoffed, but I didn't push him away this time. Instead, I just turned back to the yard, staring at the dent in the fence.
"That's gonna be a problem," I muttered.
Hajime walked forward, stopping beside me. "I'll fix it," he said simply.
I glanced at him, surprised. He caught my look and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" he asked. "You think you're the only one who knows how to fix things?"
I snorted. "Didn't say that. But I was the only one fixing things for a decade."
He didn't press the conversation further. He just turned and walked back inside.
I watched him go, then looked back at the fence.
Day 6 – Pushing Limits
I stood in the backyard again, stretching my arms as the morning sun crept higher in the sky. My body ached from yesterday's experiments, but that wasn't going to stop me. The bruises from my gravity mishap were a reminder to pace myself, but I wasn't about to slow down.
Today, I wanted to refine control. Breaking and reinforcing laws wasn't enough—I needed precision.
I picked up a small rock and focused. First, I disabled friction on its surface. The moment I let go, it should've slipped right through my fingers. But I caught it, reinforcing gravity just enough to keep it from floating away.
The rock hovered in place, weight held firm in my palm despite its frictionless state.
"Okay… now let's move it."
I nudged it with my other hand. It shot forward instantly—no resistance, no drag—like a perfectly smooth object on ice. But before it could go too far, I reinforced friction just at the right moment. The rock skidded to a stop in midair before dropping to the ground.
I let out a breath.
This was progress.
It was subtle, but I was starting to get it.