Pretending To Be A Boss-Chapter 490 - 90: The Demon Child’s Dream_2

Because crying is probably one of the few ways to express one's needs.

But this little "Tang Xian" was just sobbing softly.

No one would come to help him.

The best outcome he could hope for was just this.

Crying louder seemed to only increase his troubles.

Maybe it would even attract more people to bully him?

Tang Xian quietly pondered, was this himself before the age of three?

Was this the part of his memory that he had lost?

There was no answer.

After resting for a while, the small "Tang Xian" left the hospital bed.

Although the healing technology here could almost be said to be rapid healing when it came to flesh wounds, his head was still bandaged like a mummy.

He walked down the empty corridor, occasionally hearing faint laughter in the distance, laughter filled with mockery.

But the child still followed the sound.

It was a small activity room.

But it also seemed to be the place where these children studied.

Because there was a huge electronic writing board.

On it were some very strange pieces of knowledge, Tang Xian looked over and saw that most of it was mining knowledge.

He indeed felt very familiar with a lot of mining knowledge when he entered the school district.

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But he had no idea where this familiarity came from.

Or had he really learned it when he was very young?

Tang Xian didn't have time to think too deeply before a chorus of mocking laughter disrupted his thoughts.

"You see, Constantine, I told you, the doctor would definitely wrap him up like a dumpling, because I specifically insisted, it had to be wrapped like a..."

Tang Xian didn't listen to these voices anymore.

In his eyes, these children all looked very similar, their faces blurry.

It was as if he had memories of these people, but he really couldn't remember what they looked like.

Only their eyes could be seen clearly.

They weren't filled with the innocence of two-to-three-year-olds; their gazes were as cold as an adult's.

Tang Xian, now, of course, understood the meaning behind those looks.

So he had been bullied as well.

Although he wasn't sure if this child was himself.

Tang Xian wasn't angry, he was just wondering where exactly was this place?

Could it be that real fortress?

The other six people seemed like his opposites.

They carried indifferent and mocking expressions, using various inquiring tones to analyze him.

Each one proving how foolish they were.

It was similar to wondering why, amongst the seven deities, there would be a waste like himself.

This was indeed a classroom. The little boy sat alone in a corner, and shortly after enduring the ridicule, a teacher arrived.

The teacher was a woman, pregnant.

Her voice was very familiar, very familiar.

Yet Tang Xian just couldn't recall who she was in this dream.

Her face, like the other children's, was blurry.

The content of the class comprised knowledge from the Human World, not common knowledge, but advanced physics and mathematics-related knowledge.

The time in dreams is always strange; this class seemed very long, very long.

It was as if memories of countless classes were interwoven within it.

This knowledge was mixed; some of it was of the mining district, some from the Human World.

Between them were some blurred, or rather brief and not so pleasant memories.

Like being bullied.

From these memories, Tang Xian got the names of these children.

Constantine, Siren, Uranus, Ju Mang, Xi He, Ganesa.

But still, he didn't know what they looked like.

But a three-year-old child would not look out of place even with a pacifier.

Even if these people's appearances became clear, after more than twenty years, he wouldn't be able to recognize them.

Among them, Ju Mang was a girl. Compared to the others, Ju Mang seemed indifferent. She didn't bully the small Tang Xian much, treating him more like a non-entity.

Having figured out these people's names, Tang Xian still didn't know his own.

Or rather, what the little child was called; he was always referred to by others as trash, idiot, defective.

Like an outcast. This feeling was somewhat novel to Tang Xian.

After all, he had always been the one looking down on others.

The teacher never called on him during class.

They would look at Tang Xian with the same disdainful expression.

Even though that voice was so familiar, it was a different kind of familiarity from the disgust carried by these people, an extremely intimate familiarity.

But the feeling differed from reality, her smile should have been beautiful, yet it was reserved for the other children.

More often than not, the young "Tang Xian" was earnestly remembering the words the woman had said, diligently learning various kinds of knowledge.

Enduring all kinds of emotionless yet deeply humiliating sarcasm and ridicule.

In this place, most of the time there were only nine people.

The female teacher and her husband, and then there were seven children.

Everyone gathered here as if on some mission, with the man and woman responsible for imparting teachings and solving doubts.

The children, as if to enrich their understanding of the world as much as possible, then to inherit this world in turn.

In a great hall akin to the seat of a mechanical god, they lived there, not needing to worry about food, water, or any other supplies.

For the others, this place wasn't just about dull studies.

Beyond learning, bullying the defective seemed to be a pastime the other boys never tired of.

Bullying in the Human World is actually all the same.

However, here the hierarchy seemed even more evident, with everyone seeking to curry favor with the child named Constantine.

As if in the future, he would be the ruler of this world.

Another manifestation of the hierarchical system was bullying Tang Xian, the defective.

The entire dream was fragmented and jarring, with a strong sense of disconnection.

Tang Xian had felt several times that he ought to wake up, but just never did.

Every time this happened, it was when the child treated as defective was beaten and tormented by the other children until he passed out.

It was hard to imagine that these children seemed to possess innate brute strength, as they struck without any restraint.

Injuries like those at the start of the dream, with heads smashed and bloodied, were simply the norm.

Since it was in a dream, Tang Xian felt like everything was like a story.

He was rarely moved by stories designed to draw tears, and he had almost never cried in real life.

It shouldn't be, right?

Tang Xian himself couldn't remember.

He just experienced what that child endured, all the various forms of bullying, from a first-person perspective.

Seeing that child curled up and crying in the loneliest corner, Tang Xian's heart still twitched.

No one cared for him.

And certainly, no one loved him.

He couldn't escape, nor would anyone come to save him.

In that period when the child's understanding of the world was still taking shape, his world view still in fragments, he had already begun to endure the darkest experiences that come with human existence.

——Learning is the most interesting thing apart from food.

When Tang Xian saw the child write down this sentence, his entire consciousness lurched.

Like a blurry veil suddenly lifted by the wind.

As the child wrote this sentence, Tang Xian suddenly understood that kind of despair.

Even the teacher in class, the woman who should seem very gentle in his memory, never paid him any heed.

But at least in the classroom, these people wouldn't bully him.

So learning was a joyful activity.

When knowledge was poured into him, at least he could forget the various embarrassing experiences.

Perhaps only during that brief time did he feel truly alive.

Of course, his seriousness also became the source of mockery.

"How could a higher being be concerned with the desires of the flesh? Defective is defective, isn't that right, teacher?"

"Yes, my dear Constantine."

"Look at him, how ridiculous, is he contemplating? Are these simple pieces of knowledge too difficult for him to understand? It seems he's not just defective in terms of talent."

"Why do we have to live with such stupid and vile degenerate beings?"

"Yeah, teacher, what's the point of him being here?"

"Hey, idiot, what's the point of your existence? You don't even deserve to be here!"

Such conversations were common.

Many times, that question would come up—what's the point of being here?

Sadness rose in Tang Xian's heart. He hadn't felt this emotion for a long time.

That young child must be in so much pain, right?

Perhaps the child was desperately searching for the meaning of his own existence, but Tang Xian knew it.

The answer was incredibly cruel.

But Tang Xian had some doubts, too.

Why did he feel a closeness to that woman?

How could such a child possibly keep living?

Did fate at some point bring about a huge change for this child, for his younger self?

Or perhaps… was this just a bizarre, senseless dream?