91 Ben’s eulogy (1/2)

Half a bean burrito he saved from the day before

Yet, he didnt have time to contemplate the ironic overtonebecause he still had something to do. It was the last item on his agenda of preparing to diewriting his own eulogy

So, sitting at his desk, he wiped off the tangy sour cream from his lips. It wasnt the last thing he wanted to taste and smell, but he couldnt afford to pay extra for guacamole

Then, he took out a piece of paper, feeling its dry texture on his fingers

Then, he took out another piece of paper, because he got sour cream on the first one

And he started to Hemingway

***

After many hours of effort, Ben looked at the paper in his hands and nodded in satisfaction. He didnt need the credit of bringing this beautiful work into existence…Nor did he care if his fame came postmortem. He even didnt mind if someone else took the credit for his Shakespearean work

He cared not about any of those thingsbecause death

Soon, hed be humble and dirt-rich

So those things lacked importance. Ben didnt write it for any of that. There was a much simpler reason he wrote his own eulogy: he feared Antonio screwing it up

The final piece ended up as a story–the tale of Bens life, with a few small adjustments to hook readers, but nothing biographical movies didnt do.

He decided to read it aloud to double-check there were no plot holes or cliches…but he was pretty confident in its freshness…

If there was an issue, he could add some vampires…or make himself a mage instead of warrior…but he didnt want to scare away readers with something too unique…

Ben cleared his throat…

”He was a young hero from the mortal worldfrom the poorest familyof the smallest villageof the smallest townof the smallest cityof the smallest provinceof the smallest countryof the smallest continentof the smallest realmbut every legend has to start from somewhere

…

He had a tough upbringing: one guy called him trash, then another guy called him trash. Before he knew iteveryone was calling him trash in an infinite recycle…

…

He started from nothing

No matter how many times he dreamedthere was no memory from a dead expert

No matter how many times he asked doctorsthey said he possessed no special bloodline

No matter how hard he searched, he couldnt find any OP item left by his parentsand that never changed, no matter how many Christmases he asked for a gaming PC

Even thendespite his household coming from a humble background, it turned out to all be a red herringbecause they had no ancestral ties to any ancient families at all

He trained hard, practicing both internal and external training: internal with PUBG on his PCexternal PUBG on his mobile

Yet, after struggling through a heavenly tribulation of a prep course, he broke through.

Then, with an adventurous heart, he started to journey the world. It forced him to leave his family behind, but he trusted theyd be safe forever due to the powerful local reputation he amassed over a month of faceslapping

If anyone from outside the village ever came and disturbed his legend, putting a finger on his familyhe would destroy them when he returned just in time for the rescue

In the wide lands, he succeeded in raising his position in societyand he did it all by himselfdespite the worst luck in the worldthat forced him to live as a mortician, making him fall into cave after cave of burial sites of old geezers