Michael arrived at the Argonauts Martial Gym at 8 AM, brimming with energy. He was eager to measure his progress and refine his martial arts skills.
The gym, part of a franchise created by the elite guild Mythology, was an impressive establishment. Founded by Serge Frederick—better known as Siegfried, a legendary martial artist in the Empire—it boasted an excellent reputation, powerful instructors, and state-of-the-art facilities.
Branches like this catered to students and F-typed life forms. Even within F-class, there were unofficial subcategories: F-, F, and F+. The distinctions were significant enough that Michael always had to be cautious, as even a higher-ranked F-type could pose a lethal threat.
At the counter, he handed his membership card to a cheerful receptionist. She greeted him with a friendly smile, which he returned, causing her to blush. The gym was already half full despite the early hour.
After teasing the receptionist, Michael moved toward the equipment to begin his workout. His goal was straightforward: test his limits.
He started with weightlifting. Testing his maximum effort, he discovered he could lift 110 kilograms (243 pounds) with each arm. Satisfied, he moved on to measure his running speed, clocking in at 35 km/h (21.5 mph).
Next was the Laser Room, a specialized chamber for reaction speed training. After a brief rest, Michael stepped inside. The setup was straightforward but challenging: red, lightweight balls would shoot at him from various angles and at increasing speeds. His goal was to avoid as many as possible.
As the countdown reached zero, a red ball launched straight at him. He pivoted smoothly to his right, dodging it. Then came another from the left at a 15° angle, then a 20° angle from the right, and so on.
Michael maintained his focus, avoiding the projectiles with precision. However, the difficulty escalated quickly, and at 14 seconds, a ball finally struck him. The session continued until the computer collected enough data.
His final reaction time was recorded at 150 milliseconds—a respectable score for an athlete but below even the F- type beginner threshold.
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Michael wasn’t discouraged. He reminded himself that he hadn’t allocated any attribute points to speed or reaction yet. This was just the beginning.
After leaving the Laser Room, he headed to the swordsmanship area. Unbeknownst to him, someone was monitoring his progress.
***
Michael’s high school days had been complicated. His academic success and popularity with some of the girls had made him a target for envy. The confession from the school belle—though politely rejected—only fueled resentment among his peers.
Now, as one of the top five candidates for the Nirvana Program, Michael stood out even more. His achievements, despite limited resources, often led to comparisons that embarrassed his classmates.
One such classmate, Jerome Gilt, happened to be at the gym that morning. When Jerome spotted Michael entering, curiosity got the better of him. He discreetly observed Michael’s performance, noting his strength and speed tests.
Watching the results from the Laser Room on a nearby monitor, Jerome nearly laughed out loud.
“Below average in strength, speed, and reaction,” he muttered under his breath. “His talent must be garbage.”
Jerome, unaware that Michael’s talent was focused on long-term growth, jumped to conclusions. He snapped a photo of the Laser Room monitor and shared it in a group chat with his friends.
From there, the information spread rapidly. By midday, most of Michael’s classmates knew about his "disappointing" stats.
For many, the news brought schadenfreude. Frank Hicks, another classmate, was particularly pleased.
Frank had struggled academically, earning the ire of his prominent family. His parents constantly compared him to Michael, who, despite fewer resources, had excelled. Learning about Michael’s "mediocre" stats felt like vindication.
“This is my chance,” Frank thought. He resolved to visit the gym regularly and challenge Michael to sparring matches.
***
Unaware of his classmates' gossip, Michael focused on his martial arts training.
The gym’s sparring dummies were sophisticated robots programmed to fight back with customizable attributes and combat styles. Michael entered his stats into the system and selected E.S.M.A.—Empire Standard Martial Arts—as the dummy's combat program.
E.S.M.A. covered a wide range of techniques, from boxing and wrestling to ground fighting and weapon-based combat. It was the foundation of his training during school.
Equipped with a wooden sword, Michael adopted the standard stance drilled into him during his studies. His movements were deliberate: vertical slashes, thrusts, feints—all designed to break through the dummy’s defenses.
Despite his efforts, the dummy deflected or avoided each strike. Its programmed skill level matched his own, providing a relentless challenge.
Michael fought until exhaustion, each swing of his sword sharpening his technique. Finally, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, he decided to call it a day.
As he left the gym, he remained unaware of the rumors spreading about him or the plans his classmates were making. His focus was on one thing: progress.