Chapter 500 (1/2)
Ezekiel Ghosthound was a man who was haunted by the choices he didn’t make in his life. He made the decision to accept a modest financial aid package to a middle tier school and graduated with honors. Although he likely could have pushed for higher honors, or a place in his University’s executive board, or done a more ambitious thesis project, he didn’t
In his mind, that phrase hung heavy and dense.
He didn’t.
At the time, he didn’t realize that his golden years were slipping past. Very soon, conversation and advancement wouldn’t come fun and easy to him. Out in the real world, he received a job at a mid-tier firm and did an alright job. Although there were opportunities for promotion, Ezekiel watched them go to other people, usually people from more prestigious schools, people who were willing to put in ridiculous hours.
Ezekiel couldn’t do that. He had married his college sweetheart and she was now pregnant. In the beginning, she was a bright and free spirit that invigorated him. Very quickly, with the stresses of life piling up, Ezekiel found himself frustrated with a wife who cared very little for the necessities of modern life. Even when mortgage payments and phone bills and insurance premiums siphoned away their money, she remained unflappable, happy and bright.
To her, it was enough that they were together. They would make a family together, and if they were only barely above the poverty line, Ezekiel’s wife didn’t mind it. She had made her peace with it.
He didn’t.
For the first time in his life, Ezekiel found himself driven forward with a vicious need to succeed. His bitterness became sharp claws to tear down his competition, and slowly drag himself up the corporate ladder. Perhaps his underhanded and cold methods were noticed, but so were his increased sales numbers. He received his first promotion on the day his son was born.
Ezekiel’s wife knew how important this was for them, and didn’t mind that Ezekiel couldn’t make it. She knew that he was doing this only because he cared. She also believed that naming the child Randidly was a good idea.
He didn’t.
They never explicitly fought about it, but Ezekiel couldn’t help but notice how wounded she was in the wake of surprising him with the name and watching his expression. Ezekiel wasn’t even sure what emotions were clear on his face. But they were true, and they were honest. They never spoke of it, after.
When their fight eventually exploded, and they were divorced, Ezekiel could have maintained a better relationship with his son, who he called Rand.
He didn’t.
When he saw his son struggling with his own strangeness, which Ezekiel privately thought was due to the boy being on the autism spectrum, perhaps he could have intervened. But rather than that, Ezekiel believed that the world was a much better teacher than he could ever be. In the sharp wounds left by bullies, Rand would find armor or he wouldn’t; very little Ezekiel could have done would have likely changed that.
A part of him suggested that Ezekiel should feel bad for treating his son so callously.
He didn’t.
As Ezekiel rose to prominence at his company, he was oddly dissatisfied with his current lot in life. The positions above him were occupied by competent people who rose ahead of him and wouldn’t leave anytime soon. Again, he seemed stuck. No matter how hard he worked, he couldn’t force out anyone above him.
That is, he one day realized, he couldn’t force anyone out by playing by the rules.
He didn’t think twice about any of the hard decisions that he had to make after that.
It was serendipitous, in a way, that the System would come right after he was named CEO of his company. Because at that time, he had accomplished his goals in 7 short years, and now was left… empty. Finally, his dream was realized; the company was his. But this wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was to ride that high of the bitter hunger that let him slaughter his way to the top.
Those bitter claws that had seemed so fragile and ugly had become masterful tools to dismantle another person. His teeth had grown sharp. In terms of empathy, he ranked even lower than his autistic son.
Normal people would have enjoyed being at the top.
He didn’t. It stunk of sloth and pride, and those were not Ezekiel’s sins. No, he was gluttony, and he wanted more.
Was he surprised at his Class? Obviously not. And originally, he had been very happy with it. But eventually, as time passed, Ezekiel came to realize the astronomical price he had to pay in order to not have his stats regress. One life a week was required. Sure, every time he killed someone he took their greatest Skill. But he didn’t get any stats, and he didn’t receive the PP that those people had. He could only grind up his Skills the old-fashioned way. His stat gains were some of the highest Ghost had ever seen, but it wasn’t enough.