Book 5: Chapter 1: Darkness
I do not have a religion.
My father scoffed at religion. He has always been a man who would scoff at things frequently.
To my father, religion was opium for the weak and, by extension, a factory that created weak people. My father wanted his household to be a hunting ground that raised the strong. Even a gap where opium could be planted was not allowed in his household.
My father had once sat at the dining table and said this:
“The trend of religion has passed. To be a little more exact, even now, the trend is in the middle of withering away.”
It was obvious what my father wanted from his children. He wanted us to grow up into beasts that could rip through anything. Religion was the easiest livestock to rip the flesh off of. My father’s scoffing was easily passed down onto us.
At that time, besides us, our mothers were also seated at the dining room table, but there was one among them who was religious. From what I can remember, she was from a family that had very strict religious traditions. Nevertheless, I have never seen her give a retort to my father’s jeers.
She would simply pray by herself for 5 seconds before every meal. By doing so, she would narrowly overlook the various responses. My father would end up smiling bitterly before saying,
‘Well. It can’t be helped.’