Vile Rabbit

Knowing that the world would die along with me, the endless hatred in my heart lessened a little.

Some time later, my son came to visit me. I had forgotten about him. Well, I can't forget anything, but the thought of him had somehow become lost in the countless knowledge that floated around in my mind.

It was about thirty years since I had last seen him in person; he was now a forty-year-old man, and he resembled me just a little shorter, with a toned body, the same hair and eye color.

My appearance wasn't the only thing he had inherited; he had also inherited a portion of my intelligence.

He was nowhere near as smart as me, but he was a genius in his own right. I remember glancing at an article title: *[Evander Alala, son of the great Kane Alala, was rewarded with the highest title for revolutionizing the medical field.]*

I just glanced at it for a second and turned to the next page because i didn't care, for i had invented something better; it was just that I didn't publish it, just like ninety-nine percent of my inventions.

I could see admiration and hatred hidden in the depths of my son's eyes, but I didn't care, for I owed him nothing, and his hatred was nothing compared to mine.

Behind him stood about twenty people his children and their wives/husbands and kids.

As for his mother, she had died of an illness years ago.

They told me about their life, which I couldn't care less about. A few days later, they left. Did I care that they would also die when I died? No.

Years had passed, and I was now over a hundred and ten years old, making me the oldest person to have ever lived. I felt my death drawing closer and closer, as well as my strength, which had stood at its peak all these years, started to dwelling slowly

'how hateful.'

And before I knew it, I was bedridden, strapped up with hundreds of tubes containing medicines, my son and his family standing around me with complicated expressions on their faces. I felt that I wouldn't survive past that day.

The hate in my heart began to stir with madness, and I couldn't help but let out an insane laugh, startling and confusing the people around me.

"Ahahahahahahahahaaaaa! World, today I will die, but so will you too! Ahahahahaha! Both of us will die! Hahahahaha!"

As my eye started to darken and my last remaining vitality slowly seeped from my body, but right before my heart stopped beating, something unimaginable happened.

Within the depths of the world, a spark was lit, a spark that triggered my magnificence and quelled the hatred that dwelled at the core of my being.

Boom!

The world had woken up, after which vital energy flooded the world like a tidal wave, transforming and enhancing everything it touched, including me.

It swarmed and poured into me like a black hole, pulling me away from death's door. With every passing moment, I felt my body revitalized. Then,

pash!

The limit on my body shattered like glass, and my body reorganized, enhanced.

The same for my family.

I had become one and a half times stronger than before. I stood up in extreme shock.

After that day, the world as I knew it completely changed; people became stronger, the trees became taller, and the animals turned into beasts.

The only thing that remained the same was that I was still the strongest; no other creature had shattered their limit.

I researched this energy, which I named vital energy. It was jet black and had the ability to enhance and evolve things.

Soon, I noticed that my full-body exercise had the ability to pull this vital energy inside of me when I worked out. So once again, I started my maddening workout.

Time passed, and I was now one hundred and twenty years old. I felt that it wouldn't be a problem to live to one hundred and fifty years old.

It's been ten years since I escaped death, and I have shattered my limits over three times, reaching a new unbreakable limit. No, it should be that I had reached the end; there were no more limits for me to shatter.

I have become somewhat satisfied with my new strength; I could run faster than any other creature, could lift over seven tons, and could withstand attacks from the sharpest of weapons.

But the endless hatred in my heart still burned, for I was still weak—weak to death.

Destined to die thirty years later, I could not accept that, so I started training even harder, no sleep.

Five years passed, still no progress. Soon, I accepted that this was an issue that training just wouldn't solve, so I turned my focus to something else: the beasts who had gained all types of magical abilities—breathing fire, calling wind and rain.

…

I exited my compound for the first time in fourteen years, where I met my son at the gate; he was on his way to visit me.

Unsurprisingly, he was strong the second strongest after me because he had also created a body technique, though it nowhere close to mine. Still, it was impressive. Unlike me, he spread his technique to the people of the world.

I could feel the familiar hatred oozing off of him, hatred for me.

His hatred for me had grown even more since the last time he had met me a few years ago, after he had discovered my strength, a strength that could have easily ended the beast and the TOL war years ago.

But I had ignored the world and remained in my manor training.

I remember him calling me despicable, selfish scum, that I did not deserve the gift that I had.

I felt that what he said about me being a selfish scum was a fact, but the part about me not being worthy of my abilities, I disagreed. If it wasn't me, then who would it have been? Who else could endure this endless self-hatred and not kill themselves? No one.

That, I was sure of.