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nTime continued to pass.

n

nHe just felt bad for Shang.

nIt was one thing to go through so much pain to become stronger, but it was something else to continuously go through so much pain for decades upon decades.

nThis wasn’t an individual instance of painful training anymore. Being under so much pain for so long had essentially transformed Shang’s entire life.

nYes, Shang was already quite old, but spending decades in pain was still something significant.

nEvery decade of pain was equivalent to about one year of pain for a mortal.

nHow horrible would it be to be under such pain for one year?

nJust one day was already terrifying.

nAs Lucin continued watching Shang, he got the thought that Shang was actually impressively sane for someone that was living like this.

nUnder normal circumstances, one would imagine a quivering mass of terror, paranoia, fear, and irrational hatred.

nSure, Shang had these aspects, but they weren’t so strong that they overtook his entire personality.

nNevertheless, Lucin could still feel that Shang had huge issues deep inside.

nHis body was like a machine that was piloted by ten crazy people with different issues and illnesses, but by averaging them out, the machine was still piloted in a somewhat normal way.

nFrankly, it was a miracle.

nDecades passed.

nEventually, Shang used up all the Furnace Pills he had, which took him a total of 100 years.

nAt this moment, Shang was around 860 years old.

nIf he were a mortal, he would be nearly 80 years old.

nShang had genuinely reached the last years of his life.

nOver the past century, a couple of Clouds had arrived in front of the Isolation Barrier.

nThese Clouds had all wanted to talk to Shang.

nThey kept announcing themselves and knocking at the Isolation Barrier, but Shang never answered them.

nLucin had made it possible for Shang to see the outside, which meant that Shang could have noticed these Clouds and could have interacted with them.

nBut he never did.

nSome of the Clouds even became angry when Shang kept ignoring them.

nYet, it was forbidden to attack someone without their consent, and that extended to someone’s belongings and Magic Circles.

nNo matter how angry they got, they didn’t attack the Isolation Barrier.

nShang had not seen all of them, but he had still taken note of a couple of them.

nIn his mind, every Cloud that had arrived had tried to lure him away from Lucin so that they could kill him.

nWhy else would they be here?

nThey just wanted to kill Shang and get his resources or kill him for some ideological reason.

nAll of them were his rivals!

nAll of them were his enemies!

nAll of them wanted to kill him!

nNaturally, that wasn’t the truth, but that didn’t matter.

nBy constantly being in a heightened state of danger and by going through decades upon decades of nothing but intense pain, Shang’s perception was bound to become warped.

nWhen one experienced nothing but pain and darkness, how could one see the world as anything but filled with pain and darkness?

nBy going through this ungodly training for such a long time, Shang was bound to change.

nJust to put this into perspective, Shang had been training like this for over 10% of his life.

nOne would only need to look at one’s own life, take 10% of it, and go through so much time while being tortured like this.

nWould that person still be the same?

nThis was the longest time Shang had been this isolated.

nIn the past, he had gone through a couple of decades of isolation, but he had still done a couple of different things during it.

nIn Area 23, Shang had fought some beasts, walked from one place to the other, talked to Jerald, and a couple of other things.

nAs a Named Agent in the Temple of Blood, Shang had left his training room from time to time. He saw others from time to time, bought new resources, did some missions, talked to the Keeper, and left the Branch.

nIn Icy Bastion, Shang had to run a town while training, which meant that he regularly had to communicate with others and deal with the management of the town.

nThis time, it was different.

nShang was doing nothing else.

nThere was no break.

nThere was no talking to anyone.

nThere was no buying.

nThere was no managing.

nIt was just Shang and his training…

nFor better or for worse.

nOver the past century, Shang had developed thoughts and feelings he had never been able to imagine before.

nSeveral times, Shang felt like he was approaching death, but not in the traditional self.

nShang didn’t exactly feel like he was about to die, but like he was about to vanish.

nIt was like Shang’s mind and personality had been close to disappearing from the world.

nWhenever that happened, Shang felt like he was no longer inside his own body.

nIt was like he was watching a stranger go through all this pain.

nIt was like he was just an onlooker.

nWithout thoughts.

nWithout opinions.

nAnd sometimes, Shang had the desire to just look away.

nYet, something deep inside of him told him that if he decided to look away, he would never be able to look back.

nHe felt like he would stop existing if that happened.

nBut he was just so tired.

nThere was so much pain.

nIt was so exhausting.

nHe just wanted to not care anymore.

nWas going through that much pain actually worth it?

nWas his goal worth so much pain?

nHe didn’t know.

nHe just didn’t know.

nAfter Shang had recovered after his last session inside the Isolation Chamber, he simply stood up and walked out of it.

nAbsentmindedly, he put it away.

nWhat was he feeling right now?

nNothing.

nHis power had grown, but for some reason, it just didn’t feel great.

nShang wasn’t even relieved that he didn’t need to enter the Isolation Chamber again for several years.

nThere was just nothing.

nShang just didn’t care anymore.

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