The system's training regimen was, in Ari's legitimate opinion, designed by a sadist. The Gear was a sadist.
AriToru was standing on the park court at 6 AM. Six in the morning, when normal people were still asleep. He was staring at the list of quests that had populated his vision, since the moment he'd arrived. The sun was barely up. it made the sky in weak pink and orange. For Ari was already exhausted just reading what the system expected of him.
[DAILY CARDIO PROTOCOL - DAY 1]
[QUEST: "FOUNDATION CONDITIONING"]
Full court sprints: 30 repetitions
Suicide drills: 15 sets
Defensive slides (full court): 20 repetitions
Jump rope: 15 minutes continuous
Cool-down jog: 2 kilometers
[ESTIMATED TIME: 2.5 HOURS]
[REWARD: STAMINA +1, SPEED +0.5, 4 SKILL POINTS]
"This is not ideal," Ari said to the empty court. "I just got out of the hospital. This is—"
[THIS IS NECESSARY]
The system's text appeared without preamble. It was cold and matter-of-fact.
[YOUR CARDIOVASCULAR CONDITIONING IS PATHETIC]
[YOUR STAMINA: 31/100]
[YOUR SPEED: 35/100]
[YOU GET TIRED WALKING UP STAIRS]
[BASKETBALL REQUIRES RUNNING FOR 40 MINUTES STRAIGHT]
[YOU WOULD DIE IN THE FIRST QUARTER]
"I wouldn't die—"
[YOU WOULD METAPHORICALLY DIE]
[WHICH AT YOSHIMURA MIGHT BE WORSE THAN ACTUAL DEATH]
[CARDIO IS YOUR RELIGION NOW]
[PRAY AT THE ALTAR OF SUFFERING]
"Why is there so much?" Ari gestured at the list helplessly. "Can't I just... ease into it?"
[DAYS UNTIL TRYOUTS: 14]
[STUDENTS COMPETING: 200+]
[YOUR CURRENT SKILL LEVEL = GARBAGE]
[TIME FOR "EASING INTO IT"= ZERO]
The system paused, and when the next text appeared, it felt almost... strategic.
[HOWEVER]
[I DO NOT FORCE YOU TO DO ANYTHING]
[YOU HAVE FREE WILL]
[YOU MAY SKIP THE CARDIO QUESTS]
[AND EARN SIGNIFICANTLY FEWER SKILL POINTS]
[YOUR CHOICE]
*Oh right....you don't force me.*
Ari looked at the reward: 4 skill points. He'd spent five days in the hospital studying basketball and earned about 15 points total. This single workout. This single brutal one offered 4 points. And there were multiple cardio quests available. But still it wasn't going to be pretty.
Based on what the system has shown him before. To improve a single stat by one point required 2 to 4 skill points. So it was safe to assume 3 Skill Points equaled +1 stat upgrade. Which means the systems quests being multiple meant each quest completion built four points upon four upon four points. It was evil. He had to exert himself to the extreme for the system's currency. For Skill Points.
"This isn't a choice," Ari muttered. He glared at the system with a mullish expression on his flushed pale skin, "This is coercion."
[SEMANTICS]
"You know I'm still sore from the accident right. My collarbone_"
[87% HEALED]
[STORE ITEM AVAILABLE: MUSCLE RECOVERY AID]
[COST: 3 SKILL POINTS]
[IT REDUCES SORENESS BY 60%]
[IT ACCELERATES RECOVERY BETWEEN TRAINING SESSIONS]
Ari pulled up his skill point total: 14.2 Skill Points. If he spent 3 on recovery, he'd have 11.2 left. But if the recovery aid lets him train harder, earn more Skill Points and complete daily quests easier..... Not to mention it was way too cheap to pass up.
"Fine," he grumbled and made the purchase. "But I'm complaining the entire time."
[I WOULD EXPECT NOTHING LESS]
[...SADLY]
[MUSCLE RECOVERY AID: ACTIVATED]
[REMAINING SKILL POINTS: 11.2]
The muscle recovery activated immediately. that same warm sensation flooded through his body. But this time it didn't go bone deep. He cound feel the warm rush seep into his striations and settle therein.
His sore muscles suddenly felt looser, the creeping ache from his collarbone faded away like breeze.
Ari took a deep wonderful breath, "Well.... That certainly did something." He set his basketball down at the sideline (longer part of the rectangular court. It was the side of the court) and then he stayed by the baseline (the shorter part of the court. What could be called the front or back). He was at the baseline but a few metres from the rim.
"Thirty full-court sprints," he said to himself. "I can do thirty full-court sprints."
He couldn't do thirty full-court sprints.
When he got to the eighth one, his lungs were burning for oxygen. At fifteen, his legs felt very heavy and stiff . When he reached twenty-three, AriToru was sure he was dying. And as he promised. He certainly complained about it.
"I'm just destroying myself here..." Ari gasped, bent over at the free-throw line, hands on his knees, his sweat dipped off his pale skin and down his throat before falling onto the gray floor of the court.
[YOU ARE NOT DESTROYING YOURSELF]
[YOU'RE JUST DRAMATICALLY OUT OF SHAPE]
[MAYBE BECAUSE YOU HAVE NOT ENGAGED IN ANY TRUE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY FOR THREE YEARS]
[OE MAYBE BECAUSE YOU QUIT BASKETBALL LIKE A WIMP]
AriTorus fists gripped his own skin when he folded his hands. Glaring at the System's last message.
[7 MORE]
His eyes blinked when the heavy sweat from his hair and forehead had leaked in. "Seven more", He scratched his eyes in frustration, "might kill me."
[THEN YOU'LL DIE IN BETTER SHAPE THAN YOU LIVED]
[INSPIRING EPITAPH]
[NOW GET ON WITH IT]
Ari forced himself upright and ran. More like swung his stick legs forward and hopped they pushed. His motion was terrible. If it had a name to describe it, the running form would be called *Limby desperation.*
His new Jordans, which had felt so cool yesterday, now felt like they weighed ten pounds each. His breath came in with ragged gasps and came back out in a rough wheeze.
But he finished.
Thirty sprints. Done.
He collapsed on the court, staring up at the early morning sky. The image of his heart exploding out of his chest looked particularly possible in this case.
[QUEST COMPLETE: FULL COURT SPRINTS]
[+4 SKILL POINTS]
[NOW: SUICIDE DRILLS]
[15 SETS]
[STARTING... NOW]
"Wh..wait.. System. Gi... gimme a second."
[PATHETIC]
The suicide drills were worse. OH sooo much fucking worse.
For those unfamiliar with basketball conditioning, suicide drills were exactly what they sounded like: running from baseline to free-throw line and back, baseline to half-court and back, baseline to opposite free-throw line and back, baseline to opposite baseline and back. All in rapid succession. No stops. Fifteen times.
By the fifth set, Ari's legs were clearly trembling.
Now he was running on pure spite, willpower. When he had reached his fifteenth: AriToru was having an out-of-body experience where his consciousness had separated from his physical form to escape the suffering.
He finished the last rep and immediately sat down on the court, not even bothering to move to the bench. Just sat. Right there. On the hot asphalt.
[IMPRESSIVE]
[YOU DID NOT QUIT]
[YOUR FORM WAS ATROCIOUS]
[DO NOT RUN LIKE THAT IN FRONT OF ANYONE YOU'RE TRYING TO IMPRESS]
[BUT OVER ALL YOU FINISHED IT]
"Is that... a compliment?"
[DON'T LET IT GO TO YOUR HEAD]
[YOU STILL HAVE DEFENSIVE SLIDES AND JUMP ROPE]
Ari sobbed in despair. The defensive slides were their own special hell—staying low, sliding laterally across the full court which made Ari looks like a sideways crab. It looked so funny. It wasn't so much an actual slide than a weird throwing of his body sideways and fingers-crossed that his long stick legs would keep him up.
He was to maintain the defensive stance the entire time. He began feeling a weighing pain on his knees. And a stiff back from staying bent for too long.
When that was done.
The jump rope was more merciful. Except his coordination was still terrible, and he kept hitting himself in the shins with the stupid thick rope, it left angry red marks on his whitish pale skin .
Done with that. Next came the two-kilometer "cool-down jog." But Ari did a two kilometer "cool down zombie shuffle." It was 9 AM and AriToru the Pale One had just discovered new levels of exhaustion previously unknown to medical science.
He was so tired.
"I'm so...", GULP..."Water.... please someone. Water."
He made it to the park bench and collapsed onto it like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
[DAY 1 COMPLETE]
[TOTAL TIME: 2 HOURS, 47 MINUTES]
[REWARDS EARNED:]
[STAMINA +1]
[SPEED +0.5]
[SKILL POINTS: 16]
Ari allocated the measley 16 skill points to his stamina and speed.
[CURRENT STATS:]
[STAMINA: 35/100]
[SPEED: 37.5/100]
[YOU SURVIVED]
[BARELY]
[WE DO THIS AGAIN TOMORROW]
"Tomorrow?" A high pitched hoarse voice.. "There's a tomorrow?"
[THERE ARE THIRTEEN TOMORROWS]
*Thirteen huh*
AriToru accepted it. So he decided to close his eyes, meaning to rest for just a moment. Just a quick break before walking home. Just thirty seconds of—
"Ari. Ari, wake up."
Someone was shaking his shoulder. Ari's eyes snapped open, disoriented. The sun was the first thing he made out. It had moved and was much higher, the centre of a blue sky.
It was a fully established morning.
How long had he_
His saw his father standing in front of him, still wearing his work clothes. He had concern etched across his face. "You fell asleep. On a park bench. It's been over an hour."
"I was just... resting..."
"You were unconscious. I called your name three times." Hideaki sat down beside his son, and Ari noticed his father's hands were shook as he did. "You're soaked in sweat. What were you doing?."
Ari sat up slowly, he could feel the weariness everywhere in his body. "Training. For basketball."
His father was quiet for a long moment. "This is what you're going to do? Every day?,"
"Every day until tryouts."
Another long silence. Then his father sighed. "Your mother has been worried. You were supposed to come back home an hour ago."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"I know." Then Hideaki looked at son seriously. "If you're going to do this then do it properly. That means eating enough. Sleeping enough. Not training until you collapse."
"I'm fine, Dad."
But he couldn't fool his own "notice every detail" detective father.
"You're far from fine son. You're exhausted." But there laid in his father's tone something that was not disapproval. It sounded to Ari's ears, something closer to pride. "But you're determined. And determination is important, when it comes with responsibility."
They walked home together, Ari was moving like a ninety-year-old man with arthritis. His mother met them at the door. She took one look at Ari, and immediately started preparing enough food. She was as classic a mom as classic moms went.
"You need protein," she declared, out with eggs, fish, rice, vegetables. "And carbs. And vitamins. Sit. Eat."
There was no alternative. When she says those two words, sit and eat" in succession you just.....sit and eat.
So Ari ate. Then ate more. Then ate more after that. His mother kept bringing food. It seemed Michiko was personally offended by her son's attempt to burn calories.
[MANDATORY QUEST DISCOVERD]
[WATER CONSUMPTION: CONSUME 4.5 LITRES OF WATER PER DAY]
[FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN:]
[DECREASED PERFORMANCE]
[INCREASED INJURY RISK]
"Four and a half liters?" Ari stared at the water pitcher his mother had just set down. Then he realised just how much water was 4.5 litres. His eyes expanded at this realisation "That's... A LOT."
[YOU ARE TRAINING LIKE AN ATHLETE NOW]
[ATHLETES HYDRATE AS A SECOND JOB]
[HENCE, HYDRATE]
So Ari drank. And drank. And spent the next several hours experiencing the inevitable after effects of drinking 4.5 liters of water, which was visiting the bathroom approximately every forty minutes.
[HYDRATION ACHIEVED]
[KIDNEY FUNCTION: OPTIMAL]
[THE BATHROOM TRIPS WERE EXCESSIVE]
[BUT]
[IT IS WORTH IT]
The next five days followed the same brutal pattern.
Wake up at 5:45 AM. Drag himself to the park. Suffer through cardio protocols. Get his spirit broken. Collapse. Eat. Drink. Rest. Piss. Sleep. Repeat.
Day 2: More sprints. More suicide drills. Box jumps were added to the regimen because apparently the Gear believed in "ACCRETIVE SUFFERING". Ari's legs shook so badly afterward he had to sit down three times on the walk home.
Day 3: Hill sprints. The park had a small hill near the court. The system made him run up forty times. Forty! On the third run, Ari was no longer running at all but crawling. His calves gave him immense pain.
[HILL SPRINTS BUILD EXPLOSIVE POWER]
[IT ALSO STOPS YOU FROM BEING A WHINING WEAKLING]
[10 MORE]
"I'm going to fall on this hill," Ari gasped.
[POETIC]
[BUT NO]
[YOU ARE GOING TO RUN UP THIS HILL 10 MORE TIMES]
Day 4: Interval training. Sprint, jog, sprint, jog, all over again until Ari ....
He fell asleep on the park bench again. This time his mother found him, having apparently developed a sixth sense for when her son was unconscious in public places.
"Ari, this is too much," she said hands folded and staring at him upset. She was wearing a pale cream coat with a high turtle neck of matching colour. Along with a long dark skirt that came just under the coat. Black socks and British ankle brown boots.
She was just coming from work at the library.
And her voice was very worried.
"You're pushing too hard. You just recovered from a serious injury—"
"I'm okay" He was trying to look more alert than he felt. Even though he could barely make out her face.
"Okay"
"Okay?!"
"Look at yourself."
Ari didn't need to look. He could feel it—the bone-deep weariness, the constant sore muscles, the way his body felt simultaneously lighter and heavier than it should.
*But mom. The Gear demands suffering.*
Besides, AriToru could also feel something else: strength. Real and clear change .
His legs, which had felt like jelly after day one, now felt solid. He had more control of his breathing. His body was adapting, responding to the abuse with the resilience of youth and the servants work.
"I'm getting stronger," he told his mother. "I can feel it."
Michiko did NOT look convinced, but she let him continue. Though she did start bringing protein shakes to the park, appearing like a worried ghost every few hours to make sure he was still alive.
Her presence always made it easier for Ari to keep running. To never stop. It made pain a lesser thing.
The fifth day was the worst day yet. Full cardio protocol plus endurance running. Three kilometers at a sustained pace. Ari's entire existence became the rhythm of his feet hitting pavement, his breath was coming in counts.
[YOUR FORM IS IMPROVING]
[BARELY]
[BUT IMPROVEMENT IS IMPROVEMENT]
[2ND KILOMETRE]
[YOU LOOK LIKE A CRIPPLED OLD MAN]
[3RD KILOMETER]
[FINAL STRETCH]
[DON'T QUIT NOW]
Ari finally finished the run. For the last 30 minutes he'd been running all through the neighborhood and back to the training court he now called the *Hell court*. He fell down on the grass beside the court and stared up at the sky. *My soul.... It's about to leave me*
But he'd done it. Five days of cardio hell. Five days of waking up before sunrise to torture himself. Five days of his parents looking increasingly concerned while also somehow proud.
That evening, Ari stood in front of his bathroom mirror and barely recognized himself.
Five days of intense training had changed him in subtle but noticeable ways. He'd lost weight, not much, maybe two kilograms or so. But it had come from the right places. His face looked leaner, more defined. His shoulders, which had always been broad but soft, now had that curve shape. His arms, while still slender, showed the beginning of muscle tone in his triceps.
His pale skin now had color....the colour was still a pale skin... Running around for five days doesn't change your genetic quality like skin colour. It's just, now it had a flush to it.
Less like a well preserved corpse and more like a blushing vampire. Even his sclera looked more human.
"Huh," Ari said, turning slightly to check his profile. "I'm actually kind of—"
[NO]
"—getting more attractive—"
[NO!]
"I mean, objectively speaking, the exercise is improving my—"
[YOU ARE STILL A LANKY AWKWARD TEENAGER]
[WITH TERRIBLE HAIR]
[AND CAT EYES THAT MAKE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE]
[YOUR "ATTRACTIVENESS" IMPROVED FROM 3/10 TO 3.5/10]
"Puff", Ari scoffed. Hurt. "You just made those numbers up."
[YOU WISH I DID]
[YOU ARE JUST...
....SLIGHTLY LESS UNFORTUNATE LOOKING]
"I hate you.*
[ AND YOU STILL SUCK AT BASKETBALL. COME ON. HATE ME MORE ]
But even the system's mockery could not deflate Ari's mood, which he was sure was its second most important goal. Other than making him the MVP of MVPs of course. Because when he looked at his profile, the improvement was undeniable:
[CURRENT STATS:]
[STAMINA: 40/100] (+9 from cardio training)
[SPEED: 38/100] (+3 from cardio training)
[POWER: 25/100] (+2 from general conditioning)
[VERTICAL: 21/100] (+3 from plyometrics and jump rope)
[SKILL POINTS EARNED (5 DAYS): 19.3]
[CURRENT TOTAL: 30.5 POINTS]
Nine points of stamina improvement without spending a single skill point. That was massive. That was nearly 20% improvement in pure cardiovascular endurance. And all those hours he'd spent studying film during breaks had pushed his IQ from [67] to [72]
He was with no doubt in his own mind, mproving.
And the final cognizance was an awakening thing. A shivering awareness: *This_ This actually works*. The sadist training and all the suffering. All of it was actually working. He could feel how much more athletic and stronger he was. He no longer had those embarrassing soft calves that looked like a girls.
Days 6 through 12 shifted focus. And yes, He had no resting days.
[CARDIO FOUNDATION: ESTABLISHED]
[BASKETBALL SKILL DEVELOPMENT: BEGINNING]
Ari was glad. Finally he'd get to play basketball. Actually play basketball...and not just run around the neighborhood like some deranged 6'6 slender creature....
He was glad till the system sent its latest message.
[PREPARE YOURSELF]
The system's new quest protocols appeared, and Ari felt a pit forming in his soul.
[BALL HANDLING PROTOCOL - BASIC]
[QUEST: "POUND THE ROCK"]
Stationary ball pounds: 90 seconds per hand
Walking ball pounds: Full court, both hands
Figure-8 dribbles: 10 minutes continuous
Behind-the-back practice: 100 repetitions per side
Between-legs practice: 100 repetitions
[REWARD: BALL HANDLING +8, SKILL +3, 6 SKILL POINTS]
"Ninety econds?" Ari looked at the basketball in his hands. "Ninety seconds per hand of just... pounding the ball?"
[CORRECT]
"That's. NBA players don't even—"
[NBA PLAYERS ALREADY HAVE HANDLES TO SPEAK OFF]
[YOU DO NOT]
[STOP BEING A B**CH]
[AND START POUNDING]
Ari had thought cardio was bad. Cardio was physically more demanding and tested his mental resilience.
This...tested his sanity. Like fighting against your brain, your body and the basketball to just do what you fucking want already.
He started with stationary ball pounds. just dribbling the ball as hard and fast as he could in place. The system wanted him to maintain maximum intensity for the full ninety seconds.
He made it to forty-five seconds before his hand cramped. His hand had never cramped before but the pain was like...arghhhhhhh. His muscles went stiff and contracted violently. The pain was glowing red and intense. Pulsating red at the corner of his eyes for some reason. It was not a nice experience.
"This is impossible!" He shook out his hand, which felt like it was made of burning wire. "My wrist—"
[90 SECONDS]
[THAT'S THE REQUIREMENT]
[TRY AGAIN]
Second attempt: sixty-two seconds. His hand was giving him excruciating pain. His wrist felt like it was going to snap. The ball had hit his finger twice. It sent sudden sharp spikes of pain up his arm. It would likely swell up his fingers in a few hours to come.
Now. Start allover again.
Third attempt: seventy-six seconds. So close. So close. His hand was shaking. The ball was bouncing erratically. Just nine more seconds—
The ball hit his finger hard, right on the nail. Ari yelped and dropped the ball entirely to clutch his hand. The finger had already turned red, probably going to bruise.
"Fuck!" He rarely cursed out loud, but this warranted it. "That hurt!"
[BASKETBALL IS PAIN]
[PAIN IS GROWTH]
[THE GEAR DEMANDS SACRIFICE ARI]
[YOU DO NOT EXPECT TO SIT BACK AND I SOLVE ALL YOUR PROBLEMS]
[PAIN IS GROWTH]
[NOW DO IT AGAIN]
"My finger—"
[IS FINE]
[SLIGHTLY INJURED]
[BUT FINE]
The next text message was delayed, leading Ari to believe the system had nothing more to say. He was about to pick the ball up again when he saw...
[SWITCH HANDS]
Ari wanted to argue, but the system had a point. His right hand needed a break anyway. So he switched to his left, his weaker hand. Then he started pounding.
His left hand had even less strength than his right. His bones were less dense there, his fingers were stiff and unfocused from disuse, even the muscles were less.
He shut up completely while he went again and again. Finally when his wrist felt like it was about to fall off, he completed it.
[90 SECONDS]
[LEFT HAND: COMPLETE]
Ari stopped, gasping like he'd just finished another round of sprints. Hi#s fingers were shaking, so red and swollen. The left wrist had a painful thrum like DOM DOM DOM. Both palms were red from repeated impact with the ball.
"I feel like I'm being tortured."
[CORRECT]
[PAIN IS GROWTH]
[YOUR RIGHT HAND HAS TIME TO REST]
[SWITCH]
[90 SECONDS]
Offcourse his right hand still hurt like crazy. But Ari knew there was no real point in resisting. He'd still end up doing it again in infinite timelines.
[YOU'RE GOING TO GET BETTER]
[COME ON, GRAB THE BALL]
Relentless was the ball handling work. Sixty seconds per hand, switching back and forth until both of Ari's arms couldn't raise up to you his face.
After some resting. And some ice
Then walking ball pounds. Dribbling while walking the full court, maintaining control, switching hands at half-court. The ball kept getting away from him. He had to chase it down half a dozen times.
[YOUR DETERMINATION IS ADMIRABLE]
[BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN ANYTHING YET]
Figure-8 dribbles, weaving the ball through his legs in a figure-8 pattern. It needed synchronization Ari simply didn't have. The ball kept hitting his legs.
"I can't do this!" Ari's frustration boiled over. "I've been trying for twenty minutes and I can't—"
[YOU CANNOT DO IT YET]
The system's text appeared, and for once there was no mocking tone, no sarcastic commentary.
[THAT IS WHY YOU'RE PRACTICING]
Ari stood there, He was breathing hard, the ball was static against his hip. He'd spent three years watching basketball, understanding it intellectually, but never doing it. He never built the muscle memory, the thousand tiny adjustments that allowed skilled players to shoot and dribble with their eyes closed.
He was starting from zero. Less than zero.
But he was starting.
"Okay," Ari said, he readied himself for attempt at the Figure-8, "Okay. Again."
The system's torture continued with new and creative forms of suffering: actual basketball skills.
But first, it sat him down. Metaphorically. The text appeared in his vision during a water break, when Ari was sprawled on the court. The pain wasn't easing. It wasn't going away. He was wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake.
[QUESTION: WHY ARE YOU DOING BASIC DRILLS?]
"Because you're forcing me to?"
__[I'M NOT FORCING YOU TO DO ANYTHING. YOU'RE FREE TO PRACTICE OTHER DRILLS]
Ari scoffed. "As if".
[WHY BALL POUNDS?]
"Huh?"
[WHY FIGURE-8S?]
[WHY NOT JUST PRACTICE CROSSOVERS?]
[OR FANCY MOVES?]
Ari thought about it. "Because... I need fundamentals first?"
[CORRECT]
A new text appeared, formatted like a lesson:
[BASKETBALL TRUTH #1:]
[THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A SCORER AND AN ACE IS FUNDAMENTALS]
[ANYONE CAN LEARN FLASHY MOVES]
[CROSSOVERS, SPIN MOVES, BEHIND THE BACK]
[BUT WITHOUT FUNDAMENTAL BALL CONTROL]
[THEY ARE JUST FANCY WAYS TO TURN THE BALL OVER]
[THE BEST SCORERS IN HISTORY]
[JORDAN, KOBE BRYANT, DURANT, GERVIN]
[MASTERED THE BASICS FIRST]
[BORING, REPETITIVE, FUNDAMENTAL BASICS]
[BALL CONTROL]
[FOOTWORK]
[SHOOTING FORM]
[BODY POSITIONING]
[MASTER THESE]
[AND EVERYTHING ELSE BECOMES POSSIBLE]
[SKIP THESE]
[AND YOU'LL ALWAYS BE LIMITED]
Ari read the text twice, then looked down at his hands red, sore, building calluses. "So this suffering is... necessary?"
[THIS SUFFERING IS FUNDAMENTAL]
[LITERALLY]
[SUFFERING IS FUNDAMENTAL ARI]
[AND THE GEAR DEMANDS SACRIFICE. AS IT DEMANDS ACCRETIVE SUFFERING]