After dropping 10 EP earlier that morning to push my Constitution to Level 5, my body finally felt stable. But enduring Karla Kure's training would require more than just the stamina of an average adult. I needed the reflexes and sensory awareness to actually survive.
I snuck out of the estate at midnight and turned the city's neglected alleys into a marathon. I hunted efficiently, relying on my 'Presence Concealment' to ambush clusters of Grade 5 Fly-Heads and isolated Grade 4s with a steel pipe.
By 4:00 AM, my steel pipe was bent, but my system panel glowed with the results of pure, unrelenting effort.
[Current EP: 58.5]
I sat on a park bench under a flickering streetlamp and pulled up my attributes. It was time to level the playing field before I walked into a den of assassins.
'System. Upgrade Perception and Dexterity to Level 5.'
[Attributes Upgrade Confirmed.]
[Perception: 4 ➔ 5]
[Dexterity: 4 ➔ 5]
[Cost: 20.0 EP]
[Remaining EP: 28.5]
A sharp, electric jolt ran up my spine. My vision suddenly sharpened, pulling the dark shadows of the park into high definition, and my limbs felt incredibly light. My physical vessel was officially operating at the absolute peak of a normal human. I headed home to shower. I was ready.
The Kure Clan estate was tucked away in a heavily forested, private sector of the mountains just outside the city limits. It looked like a massive, traditional fortress from the Edo period, complete with high stone walls and impossibly thick wooden gates.
I walked up to the entrance, wearing a simple dark tracksuit and carrying a duffel bag.
Standing in front of the gate was a towering guard. He was easily six-foot-five, built like a brick wall, and his sclera were pitch-black. He looked down at me, crossing his massive arms.
"I'm here to see Karla Kure," I said politely.
The guard let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Is that right? The young miss doesn't play with ordinary kids."
Without a single micro-expression of warning, the guard's massive hand shot out.
My Level 5 Perception registered the movement, but my body simply wasn't fast enough to escape the reach of a superhuman assassin. His hand clamped around the collar of my tracksuit, lifting me completely off the ground with one arm.
Instantly, a wave of suffocating, violent bloodlust crashed over me. It felt like a physical weight pressing against my throat.
My newly upgraded Constitution kept my airway from collapsing, but the sheer terror of his aura made my heart hammer violently against my ribs.
I didn't scream. I didn't thrash. I grabbed his thick wrist with both hands to relieve the pressure on my neck and glared straight back into his pitch-black eyes, refusing to look away.
"Hey! Put him down!" A sharp, familiar voice echoed from the courtyard.
The guard flinched, the terrifying bloodlust vanishing instantly. He carefully set me back down on my feet, bowing his head respectfully.
Karla jogged up to the gate, wearing a loose martial arts uniform, her hands on her hips. She glared at the towering man. "What are you doing? I told you I had a friend coming over today!"
"My apologies, Young Miss," the guard grunted respectfully. "Just making sure he wasn't a nuisance."
Karla rolled her eyes and grabbed my wrist, dragging me through the heavy wooden gates. "Come on, Ren. Ignore him. But before we train, Gramps wants to see you."
As she led me through the expansive, immaculate zen gardens of the compound, my 'Perception' flared wildly. We weren't alone.
Shadows shifted on the rooftops. Muscular men and scarred women with pitch-black eyes were pausing their daily routines to stop and stare.
The glares they directed at me were intensely hostile, filled with a suffocating, overprotective venom. To them, I was an absolute nobody who had somehow convinced the "Princess" of the Kure Clan to bring him home. If looks could kill, I would have been turned to ash on the gravel path.
We reached a large, open-air tatami room. Sitting cross-legged at the head of the room, sipping tea, was a small, elderly man. Erioh Kure.
"Gramps! I brought him!" Karla announced cheerfully.
Erioh slowly set his teacup down. He didn't smile. His pitch-black eyes locked onto mine, and the air in the room instantly froze.
The bloodlust the guard had emitted at the gate was nothing compared to this. The Patriarch of the Kure Clan unleashed an aura so dense and terrifying that my knees actually buckled slightly. It felt like staring directly into the jaws of an apex predator. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run, to apologize, to grovel.
"Boy" Erioh said, his voice raspy but carrying the weight of absolute authority. "This is not a daycare for bored high schoolers. Get out of my house before I have you thrown off the mountain."
Sweat poured down my face. My chest heaved as I fought the urge to step back. I dug my nails into my palms, grounding myself in reality. If I ran now, I would never survive the curses.
"I'm not here to play," I managed to say, my voice strained but steady. I looked him dead in the eye, refusing to break contact. "I'm here to learn."
Erioh's eyes narrowed dangerously. The pressure intensified.
"Gramps, stop it!" Karla whined, stepping between us and waving her arms. "You're going to scare him away! I barely have any friends my age, and none of the normal kids want to talk about martial arts! He's the only one who actually wants to train! If you kick him out, I'm going to be super angry at you and will not talk to you ever again!"
The shift was almost comical.
The terrifying, demonic aura instantly evaporated. Erioh Kure, the legendary Patriarch of the Kure Clan, completely folded under his great-granddaughter's pout.
"A-Ah... well, if he's your friend, Karla dear..." Erioh stammered, coughing politely into his fist. He waved a dismissive hand at me. "Fine. You may use the back courtyard. But do not expect any special treatment, boy."
"Thank you, Kure-sama," I bowed deeply.
Karla cheered, grabbing my sleeve and dragging me out toward the training grounds.
As soon as we were out of earshot, Erioh's doting grandfather persona vanished. His expression hardened into a cold, calculating mask. He looked into the shadows of the room.
"Hollis," Erioh commanded quietly.
A muscular man stepped out of the darkness, bowing. "Yes, Patriarch?"
"Look into the Ichijou boy," Erioh ordered, his eyes locked on the doorway where I had just stood. "Check if he's a spy or anything and according to my memory he is frail and weak brat. But that boy stared directly into my killing intent and didn't take a single step backward. See if something is interesting about him"
The private training courtyard was built for violence—hard-packed dirt, striking posts, and heavy iron weights.
Karla stopped in the center of the yard, the playful energy from the tatami room completely gone. Her black-and-white eyes locked onto mine with cold professionalism.
"Before we start, get one thing straight, Ren," Karla said seriously. "I cannot teach you Kure Clan secret techniques. Our unsealing method, the 'Removal', is strictly forbidden, and your body would tear itself apart trying to use it anyway."
"I understand," I replied, dropping my bag. "I just need the bare-bone basics of how to fight. Evasion, parrying, and economy of motion."
Karla smiled sharply. "Strip off the jacket. We're starting with warm-ups."
The "warm-ups" were absolute physical hell.
She put me through agonizing, relentless conditioning. Squats, lunges, planks, and explosive sprints across the dirt while dragging a heavy weighted sled. She was tearing down my lack of foundation with surgical precision.
If I hadn't spent those 30 EP to bring my physical stats up to Level 5, I would have passed out in the first twenty minutes. My Constitution worked frantically to knit tearing muscle fibers back together, while my Dexterity kept my exhausted legs from giving out. It was a terrifying tightrope walk. When the sun finally set, I crashed in a sparse guest room, my body radiating heat as it repaired the massive damage.
At 5:00 AM on Sunday, Karla dragged me back out into the courtyard.
"Conditioning is useless if you don't know how to use it," Karla instructed, circling me. "You cannot trade blows with stronger opponents. You need to rely on slipping and redirecting."
Without warning, she threw a jab.
It was blindingly fast, cracking against my cheekbone and sending my head snapping back. I stumbled, tasting copper, but my upgraded Level 5 Perception had already cataloged the movement. I immediately stepped back and reset my stance.
For the next six hours, I was her personal punching bag.
"Slip the punch, don't just lean back!" she yelled, throwing a swift right cross.
I forced my exhausted legs to move, slipping my head to the outside of her arm. I stepped inside her guard, throwing a clumsy hook. Karla effortlessly pivoted her hips, letting my fist sail past her, before sweeping my legs out from under me.
I slammed into the dirt, knocking the wind out of my lungs.
Karla looked down at me. "I'll be honest, Ren. You don't have the innate combat instincts of a prodigy. You're completely average."
I coughed, wiping dirt from my mouth. "I know."
"But," Karla smiled, a predatory gleam returning to her eyes. "Your determination is psychotic. You never close your eyes when I strike. You take the hit, you analyze it, and you force your body to adapt."
I pushed myself up onto my feet, raising my trembling fists. "I can still stand. Let's go again."
Karla threw her head back and laughed. "I love it! Alright, let's drill that into your body until it break!"
We sparred until the sun dipped below the horizon. As I finally dropped to my knees, utterly drained but exhilarated, the system panel flickered quietly in my vision.
[Skill Acquired: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Basic Proficiency)]
A bruised, bloody smile slowly spread across my face.