Limitless The Strongest Revenant

In today's world, IT or information technology has been incredibly good for making money. Personally, I had very little experience with it. The most advanced device I had was my laptop. But like most people, it's purpose was to watch movies or play video games.

Many of my old classmates started out in other careers, but soon switched to computer-related jobs. They kept saying that the money was good and the opportunity for growth was good compared to dead-end jobs.

Of course, that was before they all got fired because of their high rates. In today's globalized economy, who in their right mind would pay an American hundreds of dollars when you can get a pajeet or gook to do it for literally pennies.

Outsourcing became the final nail in the coffin. With the advent of offshoring, most jobs went overseas, sure it saved the bigwigs a lot of money, but at the same time it reduced the number of Americans it could have supported.

That was one of the reasons I never got around to it. At least I had a dead-end job. The same bastards who tried to get me into programming were the same ones who called me to borrow money.

Of course, all this basically meant that I knew shit when it came to programming and IT as a whole. {Program} sounded intimidating to me because I was stupid. But for my coming war I had to learn it, leaving a golden egg was not something I was willing to do.

There was no useless {Fate}. As regrets given form, each and every one of them fulfilled a desire. Bella must have had a good reason for creating {Program}. I somehow learned what it was supposed to do, but that's all.

It was like using the radio, I knew what the radio could do, but who the hell knows how the thing actually makes sound. Anyway, as much as I hated dealing with the annoying shit, I hated the Saviors even more.

The chance to kill them all was my incentive to endure this torture. It couldn't be that bad, right?

"Killing all the fucking bastards."

I internalized my motivation like a mantra. Every time I feel bored, worried, or frustrated. I will recite this mantra as a reminder. I do this so that I can...

"Kill all the fucking bastards."

With my mental preparations complete, I attempted to use {Program}.

"{Program}."

My mind then entered a blank space. {Program}, was essentially clay, it had no purpose. As its owner, its limitation and function were determined by me. This damn thing required big brain energy.

Looking at the empty space, I once again realized how empty my mind is. Like an abandoned cave, nothing filled my mind. Most girls were said to be incapable of understanding that most men had brains like mine.

When we say we are not thinking about anything. We literally fucking mean it.

"Shit..."

As I stared into space, I heard a voice come to my aid.

[Limitless, may I offer a suggestion?]

[Sure, Exa. I have nothing anyway.]

[It is often said that necessity is the mother of invention, so why not start with a problem you wish to solve?]

"Necessity, huh?"

In a way, that statement was true. Humans began to be civilized only after they overcame their primitive needs. People hunted to avoid starvation, but when storms or winter came, they still starved.

To solve this problem, people began to store food. But meat spoiled easily, so when salt was discovered, its value was worth its weight in gold. Still, hunting for food had its limits.

Using berries as an example, humans eventually learned to plant and farm. Soon they domesticated cattle and raised livestock. The very term was a stroke of genius; it was literally a stock of life. Each cow or boar represented the ability to live another day.

This concept became a universal measure throughout the world. No matter what country it was, the fucker who had the most animals was the richest fucker in the land. Of course, things got more complicated over the years, but the concept was incredibly accurate.

"Hmm, my biggest problem is not being able to optimize {Save} and {Rewind}. I forget to use {Save} when I can and plan to start using {Replace} more often. But {Replace} is expensive as hell!"

[Gather requirements, optimize {Save} and {Rewind}. Compile?]

"What the fuck? You just talk to it?"

[Limitless, I think it is because you have {Connect}. The {Program}, much like a compiler, does nothing more than package your ideas. In a traditional sense, machine language is skipped by having a programming language to...]

"Exa, stop, I am neither interested nor able to understand. Dumb it down, explain it to me like I'm five."

[... It is a genie like Aladdin's lamp. Invoke the program, make a wish, and I will do the rest].

"That's what I'm talking about! Thank you, Exa! Should I start with my first wish? Do I only get three wishes? Are they like {Kismet} slots?"

[No, unlike the Kismet slots, you have an extre....]

"Exa, I am five."

[You have an unlimited number of wishes, so as long as your wishes do not conflict, you can have them all].

"Great!"

[Should I compile the first wish?]

"I guess compiling is to make the wish come true? Then yes! Compile the hell out of it!"

[Compiling...] {Save}, designated point to load {Auto} upon invocation of {Rewind}. {Rewind}, summon alternate reality to fill in gaps in {Auto} imagery... Requirements accepted. Generate program...]

"Wait! What did you just say? {Rewind} is not about time? But another reality?"

[Compiling…50%…60%…70%….]

"OY! Stop ignoring me! {Program}! Say something!"

[80%...90%...Program finished. Program [Autosave] , [Autoload] created].

My outbursts caused everyone in the room to look at me. Their meeting continued as I gestured for them to ignore me.

All this time, I thought {Rewind} was, as its name suggests, the ability to go back in time. But many of my assumptions never made sense.

One of them was how my {Fate} allowed me to keep things outside of my definition of {Auto}. For example, if {Rewind} turned back time, my bullets should not only regenerate, but the damage they caused should also be reversed.

However, I have created infinite bullets, and once a bullet has been fired, its components do not recombine to form a new bullet. The gunpowder remains burnt, the case remains spent, and the bullet does not suddenly remove itself from where it was buried.

My body, which was getting thinner despite being originally overweight in my {Auto}. I tried to guess what the {Fates} were doing by what I observed.

And unlike the {Fates} of the Sirens, I could not load {Rewind} into {Limitless}, so I could not get a proper explanation.

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