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Strength

I had struggled against my master for what felt like an eternity. Every time I launched an attack, he would effortlessly slip away, either dodging with inhuman speed or deflecting my blows with precise, almost disdainful blocks. When he blocked, it was as though my fists struck stone—there was no give, no bruises left behind. And when he dodged, his body would blur, disappearing from my line of sight for a split second before reappearing somewhere just out of reach. It was maddening. My master—Zero—was known for his incredible speed and power. He wasn’t just any fighter; he was the former leader of Sun, the strongest Supreme Clan in existence.

The clans each ruled different territories, some lush and prosperous, others ruined and desolate, their conditions reflecting the character of their rulers. Sun had once been a beacon of hope, a clan known for its fairness. Yes, they fought—there was always conflict among the clans—but they never slaughtered innocents. They held themselves to a higher standard. But something had changed. Now, innocents lay dead in the streets, and their bodies served as grim evidence of Sun's descent into darkness. It was as though the clan had become a twisted shadow of its former self, killing without remorse or purpose. Not that there could ever be a real justification for such atrocities, but still... Zero had opposed this shift from the beginning, and for that, he had been cast out, stripped of his title and power.

I remember the day he was banished, well, as much as a baby could remember. It was unfair, even cruel. He had only wanted to keep the clan on its rightful path. But four rising stars, corrupted by their own ambition and greed, saw him as a threat. Since then, Zero had taken me under his wing, training me from birth with a single purpose: to surpass him and bring an end to the corrupted Sun. I never believed I could do it. I had spent years convincing myself that I would fail him, that I would disappoint the one person who had ever truly believed in me. But Zero never accepted my doubts. He told me over and over that I was like a son to him. It wasn’t just about using me to achieve his goal—though I knew that was part of it. He had given me power, molded me into something far greater than I ever thought possible. And once his goal was fulfilled, he told me, I would be free to do whatever I wished with the strength he had gifted me.

That brings me back to the beginning, to my frustration and doubt. For years, I had thrown myself at him, attacking with everything I had, yet I couldn’t even land a single scratch. His skill, his experience, his sheer presence—it all seemed so far beyond my reach. But today, just a few weeks after my twentieth birthday, everything changed. For the first time in my life, I surpassed him, victorious. I had beaten him—no, I had beaten him senseless. I stood over his bruised and battered body, sprawled across the uneven grass next to the dilapidated shack we’ve called home for years. His face was swollen, blood staining his lips and cuts scattered across his skin, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. For a moment, his eyes rolled back into his head, and I thought he might be out cold for good.

Then, with a sudden jolt, his eyes shot open, snapping back to life as consciousness returned. He didn't attempt to move, his body too broken and exhausted, but his gaze locked onto mine. "Bastard," he grunted through a strained voice, his tone as dry and biting as ever. "couldn't have held back a bit? What if I died?" I shrugged, trying to hide the hint of satisfaction welling up inside me. "You're not that weak," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. I knelt beside him, the damp earth cool beneath my knees, and extended my hand, offering to help him up. He looked at it, then back at me, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint grin, despite his pain. "No damn way," he groaned, shifting slightly, but not enough to actually move. "I can't even lift a finger right now." His voice softened, becoming something more sincere. "But this... this just makes me happier than you know. You've mastered everything I wanted you to master. You’re finally ready to leave." I pointed down the well-worn trail that wound its way down the mountain, disappearing into the distant horizon. "Then can I go now, or...?"

He explained, leaning back against a worn stone pillar with a calculated expression, "Yes. I held this fight today because I heard some great news. Sun is recruiting through a tournament in Mas Kuli for the first time in years. Seems like their fight with Obsidian really knocked them down a peg." His eyes gleamed, the hint of a smirk forming on his lips as if he found amusement in their misfortune. I nodded thoughtfully, feeling the weight of his words settle in, "You want me to win the tournament and rise through the ranks?" He shook his head with a slow, deliberate motion. His voice dropped an octave, almost whispering, "No. I want you to win the tournament with as little effort as possible, then challenge one of the top brass. Sun is unique in that if you beat someone, you take their rank. You can shoot up the ranks quickly. Then, report back to me." He folded his arms, his gaze unwavering, almost daring me to object. Sounds troublesome... but I can do it. Without hesitation, I turned around and began walking toward the weathered wooden shack that had been my home for what felt like an eternity. "I'm going to pack up my things then," I called out over my shoulder, not even waiting for a response. As I approached the shack, its creaky door barely hanging onto its hinges, I paused for a moment before slowly pushing it open, the groan of the rusted hinges echoing through the silence. Behind me, I heard Zero’s voice—calm, yet filled with an unspoken tension, "Do you regret our time here?" I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him, the dim light casting long shadows across his figure. No. I let a twisted smile spread across my face, my voice low and unsettling, "No. You gave me power. For that, I am grateful, and I will accomplish this task. But after that, we're done." My smile lingered just a second too long. That man tortured me with his brutal training—pushing me beyond my limits, robbing me of a normal childhood. But in return, I have an incredible future ahead of me, one filled with strength and potential. All I need to do now is get through this.

A few minutes later..

I took a step outside, feeling the cool morning air against my skin as the some more rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. The sky above was a soft blend of pink and orange, promising the arrival of another day. I had changed into my gray coat, the fabric heavy but flexible. As I adjusted the collar, I glanced over at him, still lying motionless in the grass. His body was still as if he were part of the earth itself. The blades of grass swayed around him, and I noticed a few bugs had already begun crawling over his skin, undeterred by his presence. The sight was almost eerie, but I felt nothing as I stared down at him. "Well," I began, my voice cutting through the quiet of the morning, "is there anything else you need to tell me?" My tone was casual, though laced with impatience. I was ready to leave this place behind, to move forward with the next phase of the plan.

He didn't move at first. His eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly with each shallow breath. Then, after a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice raspy and slow, "You need some money for the entry fee for said tournament. There's some in the cabinet." I let my eyes narrow, the warmth of humanity fading from my gaze. My stare became cold and unfeeling, piercing into him as if I could see through to his very soul. "I already took it." I said flatly, my voice devoid of emotion. For the first time, he stirred. His head shifted slightly, turning just enough so that his eyes met mine. We locked eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze around us. It was like two predators sizing each other up, though we both knew the real power dynamic had already shifted. And then, something unexpected happened. A smile broke across his face, and I could feel one forming on mine as well. It started small but quickly grew until we both burst into laughter.

A few hours later..

I had finally reached the base of the mountain, my legs not feeling any strain. This mountain had been my home for so many years, every path and hidden nook now ingrained in my memory. Zero told me not to worry, that he would recover. And, of course, I believed him. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have left him lying there on the grass. Zero is strong, undeniably so. He once led a Supreme Clan that was respected, and also feared, across the land. But the years have taken their toll on him, as they do on all men. Still, he clung to a strength that I could only admire. Am I as strong as I think I am? Zero had trained me relentlessly, breaking me down and rebuilding me into something new. But even with all his knowledge and power transferred to me, could I be taken out by one of Sun's top brass? That question lingered in my mind like a dark cloud, refusing to dissipate. I’ll need to test that out eventually—find some way to truly measure my strength against theirs.

In the distance, I spotted Het, a small, rural city nestled in the valley. The farmlands surrounding it stretched out like a patchwork quilt, dotted with livestock and rustic homes. Het seemed peaceful, but I knew better than to take anything at face value. It was a welcome sight after days of isolation on the mountain, but it wasn’t without its dangers. I decided I’d stop there to rest for today. My body needed it, and besides, my mind could use the break. I also realized that after all these years of talking only with Zero, my social skills had probably withered. I hadn't interacted with anyone else in what felt like an eternity, and I knew I was definitely behind. Conversations with other people? I’d be lucky if I could manage basic small talk. If I want to survive beyond the battlefield, I’ll have to learn to adapt to the subtler battles of words and gestures. I may be powerful, but isolation breeds weakness in ways that brute strength can't overcome. Two clans occupied Het—Jiambou and Bloody Knuckle. Both were Minor Clans. Jiambou dealt mostly in prostitution and drug circles, their corruption seeping through the cracks of Het's economy like poison. Bloody Knuckle, on the other hand, had its claws in shakedowns and protection rackets, bullying the weak into submission. They were both on the darker side of morality, though Jiambou was the lesser evil of the two. Even so, I had no intention of getting involved with either of them. The last thing I needed was to be drawn into their petty power struggles.

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No, I needed to lay low, stay off their radar, and keep to myself.

One hour later..

I finally made it to Het. Now, I’m walking along the town’s outskirts, my eyes scanning for a place to stay. This town has an eerie stillness to it—there are barely any people out and about, and the streets feel almost deserted. As I walk, I avoid even considering the idea of staying inside someone’s house, much less taking one from them. That’s not who I am. I’m not evil like Jiambou or Bloody Knuckle. I’m different from those kinds of people, even if I will have to do some dark things to complete Zero's goal. This city feels dead, like it’s frozen in time. To my left, endless stretches of farmland where the crops sway in the faint breeze. To my right, a few stragglers loitering at a couple of cafes or shopping at small, rundown stores. Is this what rural life is? Quiet and uneventful? It’s peaceful, I suppose, but not for me.

I continue walking down the narrow dirt path, taking a sharp left when the road forks. Up ahead, at the end of the road, I see a sign barely hanging on top of a large wooden building. “Tsai Hotel” it reads. The wood is old but sturdy, the paint peeling in some places, but the building itself is large enough to suggest it could host several travelers. This must be a place I can stay, I think, and with no other real options in sight, I walk toward it. As soon as I push open the door and step inside, the interior hits me like a well-placed liver punch. The atmosphere here is off—definitely not the kind of place I expected. The dim, atmospheric lighting casts long shadows across the room, and while it’s not exactly uninviting, it gives off a seedy, almost suffocating vibe. Modern couches are arranged haphazardly around the lobby, and to my surprise—and disgust—there are actual bongs sitting out in the open for people to see. The pungent smell of something illicit lingers in the air. It doesn’t take much to figure out that this place must be owned by Jiambou. This whole setup practically screams their influence. No doubt they have their claws deep in this establishment.

I try not to let the distaste show on my face as I walk forward, my gaze shifting to the receptionist behind the counter. She’s smiling at me, the kind of forced, empty smile you’d expect from someone who’s seen too much in a place like this. In front of her lies a paper with a list of names, presumably the current guests staying here. I sigh internally. I guess I don’t have a choice but to stay here, at least for tonight. I approach the counter and raise my palm to the sky in a casual greeting. “Are there any openings?” I ask. My voice is polite, but I can feel the tension in my body. The receptionist’s smile widens, and she nods quickly. “Yes, sir.” she says sweetly. “There are two rooms open. Would you like to book one?” Uh, yes? That's why I'm here, lady. I keep that snide remark to myself, forcing a smile instead. “Yes, a single bedroom for one night, please.” She nods again and scribbles something down in a small book on the counter. “That will be three silver, sir.” she says, her tone remaining cheery despite the drab atmosphere of the place. For some reason, her smile shifted—no longer just a professional mask, but something sly, almost sinister. There was something off about it, and I couldn’t place my finger on exactly why. A gut feeling told me I was being ripped off. This whole situation smelled rotten. I decided to play along with my hunch, letting suspicion creep into my tone. “Three silver? That’s a whole lot! Are you joking or are you serious?”

Her expression faltered, and I caught the hesitation. She stumbled over her words for a moment, clearly unprepared for me to challenge her. I narrowed my eyes slightly. I only had about ten silver left—no way a single night here could cost three. She knew that, and she was trying to take advantage of me. “Sorry, sir.” she muttered quickly, her smile turning awkward. “You seemed like a foreigner—” Figures. Jiambou’s influence must run deeper than I realized, with scams like this targeting outsiders. They think they can get away with it because no one pushes back. But before I could say anything else, a sharp, feminine voice from my right cut through the tense air. “Stop!” I turned my head in the direction of the voice, only to see a girl, young and fierce-looking, prancing over with exaggerated confidence. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but her expression was twisted with anger and indignation. She stopped just in front of me, glaring up at me like she had something to prove.

“If someone says a price, you deal with it!” she spat out, her eyes narrowing. “You think we’re scared of you?!” I could see the bravado in her stance, but also the slight tremble in her voice. She was overcompensating, trying to intimidate me. I wasn’t having it. Calmly, I bent down to her level, close enough that our faces were nearly parallel. I dropped my voice to a low, chilling tone, just enough to convey a hint of menace. “You should be.” Her eyes widened in response, and I saw her take a cautious step back. That defiant energy drained away quickly, leaving only a look of uncertainty. I stood back up, straightening my posture, and then addressed the receptionist again, my voice cool and measured. “Just give me a fair price. I’m tired, I’ve traveled a long way today. I’m not here to cause trouble.” The receptionist, clearly shaken now, nodded hurriedly, scrambling to make things right. “Sorry, sir. Two bronze is the actual price. Your room is two hundred and two. It’s upstairs.” She fumbled with the key for a moment, placing it gingerly on the desk. I pulled out my wallet, retrieved two bronze coins, and set them down deliberately. I wasn’t about to let them take me for a fool, but I wasn’t about to drag this out either. As soon as the coins clinked against the desk, she slid the key toward me with a nervous smile.

I turned my back to the woman who had intervened, feeling a sudden surge of motion behind me. Instinctively, I twisted my head just in time to dodge a swift kick aimed at my back. It was a heel, meant to catch me off guard. With a quick reflex, I bent down, extended my foot, and sent a gust of wind in her direction. She stumbled and fell, but I didn’t bother to look back at her. Instead, I continued my ascent up the stairs, my voice carrying a cold edge. “Try that again, and you die.” These people were a lost cause—no sense of honor or decency.

I reached the top of the stairs, just about to surpass the last step, when I heard a loud crash followed by the sounds of yelling. No fewer than five. The commotion was immediate, and I could see the chaos unfolding in the lobby. Turning back, I spotted the five men, their aggressive postures and clenched fists making their intentions clear. Their capes marked them as members of a different clan, and with Bloody Knuckle being the only other clan besides Jiambou, it was obvious which side they were on. The man in the middle, with a loud and commanding voice, shouted, “For Blood!” That confirmed it—they were part of Bloody Knuckle, and they were ready to brawl. The scene was chaotic. Four women in the lobby, clearly Jiambou members, were bracing themselves for the impending conflict. Two other men, presumably patrons, looked terrified and confused, caught in the crossfire. I had unwittingly walked into the middle of a gang war on my very first day in Het. Helping Jiambou might be a way to gain favor and perhaps coerce them into providing me with some money—money I desperately needed since Zero’s finances had left me short of the entry fee for the tournament. The prospect of earning that money while possibly gaining some allies was tempting. I nuzzled my chin thoughtfully, watching as the confrontation escalated. If I intervened, I could turn this chaotic situation to my advantage. But I had to be smart about it. Aligning myself with Jiambou might just be the ticket to getting the financial support I needed while avoiding direct involvement in their more unsavory activities.

I backflipped a staggering thirty feet, landing with a heavy thud right in front of the five Bloody Knuckle men. The impact sent a minor shockwave through the ground, making my presence known immediately. One of the men, clearly unimpressed, sneered and mocked, “Cool backflip. You wanted to help us?” I shook my head, a cold smile forming on my lips. “No.” Without another word, I leaned back, focusing all my power into a single, devastating punch. This motion took no more than a quarter of a second. With a powerful thrust, I connected my punch with the cheek of the farthest left man. The force was enough to send him flying through the air, colliding with the other four. They tumbled together, their bodies crashing through the wooden wall with a resounding splintering sound. The wreckage of the wall and the sharp scent of destruction and defeat mingled in the air.

In an instant, all five men were incapacitated, sprawled in a heap amid broken wood and debris. The lobby fell silent, save for the sound of the broken wall creaking and settling. I stood over them, and held my forearm, admiring the power I had just unleashed. With a satisfied smirk, I quipped, “Yeah, I’m as strong as I think I am.”

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