A white light flashed.
William's figure appeared in the resting area outside the Fantasy Training Room. He stood there dazed, his eyes vacant, as if his soul had been sucked out.
After being stunned for a full five seconds, he finally let out a slow breath and muttered a curse in a language even he didn't understand.
He'd been crushed.
Utterly and completely crushed.
For five whole minutes, he hadn't been fighting; he was being ground into the dirt.
Those two monsters couldn't even be described as "opponents."
They were nightmares, personified despair—ultimate creations where the designer had etched "the player must die" into their very genes.
G-William's thirty-meter-tall colossal frame carried world-destroying power with every swing of its arm, and its massive body would shift and adapt according to the style of combat.
It was truly as the players said; it evolved anytime and anywhere, absorbing the player's combat experience.
That Pursuer Tyrant was even more disgusting.
That layer of grayish-white shell, mimicking the leader's Exoskeleton, was outrageously hard.
He'd land a full-force blow, and the opponent wouldn't even flinch, only to slap him away dozens of meters with a backhand.
This wasn't something people at their level could handle at all.
The most terrifying part was that these two monsters actually coordinated.
G-William suppressed from the front, while the Pursuer Tyrant launched sneak attacks from the side.
G-William took the hits, while the Pursuer Tyrant harvested the kills.
Just as he'd exhaust himself to tear a wound in G-William, the Pursuer Tyrant would seize the opportunity to pounce from behind, its bone claws piercing straight through his chest.
Five minutes.
He had held out for five minutes.
And out of those five minutes, he spent four of them lying on the ground.
"Hey, brother!"
An excited voice came from nearby.
William turned his head and found that the dozen or so players who had been watching earlier had gathered around, their faces filled with "holy crap, that was awesome" expressions.
"You actually managed to hold out in there for five minutes!"
A young player who looked to be in his early twenties spoke with such excitement that his voice cracked.
"You should know, there are quite a few SS-Rank Hunters who have gone in, and the most anyone's lasted is only four minutes! You broke the record!"
"Yeah, yeah!"
Another player nodded repeatedly.
"No one has been able to last more than four minutes against those Twin Bosses until now! You hit five minutes in one go—that's too strong!"
"Big Shot, can I add you as a friend?"
"Which of the Factions is the Big Shot from? Do you need more people?"
"Big Shot, Big Shot, teach me how you fought them?"
William: "..."
He opened his mouth, wanting to say he was being toyed with for five minutes, not fighting for five minutes.
But seeing their fanatical expressions, he decided to give up on explaining.
"Just lucky."
He said flatly, turning to leave.
But after taking just one step, he suddenly stopped.
Wait.
Five minutes?
He looked down at his hands, recalling the brutal experience of being crushed just now.
Although he was crushed, although he was being beaten the whole time, and although he died a pathetic death in the end...
What did he feel during those five minutes?
It was a sense of oppression.
It was that suffocating, soul-deep tremor one feels when facing a truly top-tier powerhouse.
It was an extreme state where every movement had to be made with full effort, and every judgment had to be made within a tenth of a second.
It was the thrill of jumping back and forth on the edge of life and death, a mixture of despair and excitement from being potentially torn apart at any moment.
This kind of experience...
A flash of red light suddenly flickered in William's eyes.
He thought of his position in Apocalypse.
He was a manager, a strategist, the master administrator who planned everything.
He was used to sitting in the back, allocating resources, and analyzing intelligence while letting people like Fenrir charge ahead.
Most of his combat experience came from routine battles in dungeons or duels with evenly matched opponents.
But that kind of combat provided too little experience.
Being evenly matched meant both sides had a chance to breathe, room to make mistakes, and the lucky mindset that if this wave didn't work, they could try again in the next.
But a real battle of life and death—
Just like facing those two monsters just now—
There was no breathing room, no room for error, and no next time.
It was either you die or I do.
Combat experience in that extreme state was the truly precious wealth that could allow someone to be reborn.
William turned around and looked at the players still surrounding him.
"You want to learn?"
He asked.
Everyone nodded repeatedly.
"Then watch closely."
William didn't say anything more; he simply turned around and walked toward the alloy gate again.
Everyone was stunned.
"He... he's going back in?"
"Didn't he just come out?"
"Holy crap, consecutive challenges? Is he crazy? Can his Spirit even handle this?!"
The alloy door closed.
Five minutes later.
A flash of white light, and William appeared again. This time, he was in even worse shape than before, but a faint smile played on his lips.
"Four minutes and thirty seconds."
He whispered to himself.
"Thirty seconds less than last time, but..."
He paused.
"This time, I dodged three sneak attacks from the Pursuer Tyrant and even managed to leave a wound on G-William."
The surrounding players looked at each other.
Is this guy... a freak?
Smiling after being crushed like that?
However, what shocked them even more was yet to come.
William rested in place for less than a minute, took a deep breath, and walked toward the alloy door again.
Third entry.
Fourth.
Fifth.
Sixth.
...
The surrounding players went from initial shock to later numbness, and finally to... fanaticism.
Because they gradually understood.
William wasn't just fighting.
He was training.
With every entry, he would adjust his strategy based on his death in the previous round.
The first time, he was killed by the Pursuer Tyrant's sneak attack.
The second time, he learned to stay alert for movement behind him at all times.
The third time, he was flattened by G-William's frontal heavy hammer.
The fourth time, he found the timing to roll and dodge the moment the hammer fell.
He wasn't fighting the Bosses.
He was learning how to fight the Bosses.
Seventh time.
Eighth time.
Ninth time.
Tenth time.
A flash of white light.
William's figure appeared once more.
This time, he was only panting slightly, his clothes were a bit messy, and his face was somewhat pale.
But those eyes—
They were incredibly bright.
"Eight minutes."
He said softly.
The surrounding players instantly exploded!
"Eight minutes?! Holy crap!"
"From five minutes to eight minutes in ten challenges—an improvement of three minutes?!"
"This Speed of progress is insane!"
"No, the point is eight minutes! The previous record was only four minutes; he doubled it!"
William ignored the exclamations.
He just stood there, slowly closing his eyes, savoring every detail of the battle just now.
At the eighth minute, he could have held out a bit longer.
But in that instant, he got distracted, G-William caught an opening, and a claw shattered half of his body.
But it didn't matter.
He had already remembered that moment.
Next time, he wouldn't make the same mistake.
He opened his eyes and looked at the watching players.
By now, their looks had completely changed.
It was no longer the curiosity of onlookers, but respect.
"Big Shot."
The young player from before asked cautiously.
"This training method of yours... can we learn it?"
William raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Of course you can."
He glanced at the eager faces around him and said calmly.
"In this world, strength is the foundation for survival. Battles between equals won't give you much experience. Only by facing truly powerful enemies and treating combat as a life-or-death struggle can you constantly force yourself to improve."
He paused.
"And the greatest value of this training room lies right here: you can die countless times without truly dying. You can use death to trade for the most precious combat experience."
"Those who want to become stronger, go try it."
"Those who don't, continuing to challenge evenly matched opponents is fine too."
After saying that, he turned and left the training area, only to stop just as he was about to leave.
"If anyone wants to become stronger, you can head to Apocalypse. Apocalypse welcomes anyone with ambition and goals. There, we can become stronger together."
A slight smile curled on William's lips.
These ten deaths today were worth it.
...