"Show me all your available training methods," I said excitedly as I opened my status window.
[System Notification]
>> Of course, host. Here is your updated system window, where you can access ten percent of your personal training dummy's functions.
A strange voice suddenly spoke in my head, explaining its functionality. Surprised, but not thrown off, I also inspected the control panel in the martial arts section of my status window, which displayed its various functions.
>> The training dummy has two main modes: Training and Combat. The training mode is a demonstrative state where the dummy will showcase any technique from the martial art you have selected. It may provide help and corrections when you try to replicate them.
As the voice said that, an expansive list of martial arts appeared in my status window, all for me to learn.
>> Boxing, Karate, Judo, Taekwondo, Jiu-Jitsu, Muay Thai, Kickboxing, Capoeira, Krav Maga, Wrestling, Silat, Kung Fu, Wing-Chun...
The list was over two pages long, with perhaps hundreds of martial arts of various origins that I was unfamiliar with. However, those were mostly locked. I couldn't even access them. Upon clicking on the most famous martial arts—boxing, karate, muay thai, and others—I could see their history, strengths, and weaknesses.
>> Host, as underwhelming as it may seem, please note that you will only be able to unlock more functions and permissions to train in more powerful martial arts as you grow stronger from the Ascension ceremonies.
'Thanks for the reminder that I am still weak as hell.' I scoffed in my head.
"Well then, why not start with a demonstration of what you can do to train me? Hm, let's see, pit me against a level-1 dummy who knows boxing and karate!''
>> This is a terribly dangerous idea, host. Sorry, but please reconsider and only try to fight against a non-martial artist dummy.
"What do you mean by that—"
>> What I mean is that you are currently too weak to even face off against a level-1 dummy with boxing, as its base strength is at 40 units.
I blanched, remembering that my own combat power had only been estimated at a measly twenty-seven.
"Alright, hurts my pride, but that's fair." I sighed. Well, at least I now knew where I stood—rock bottom, somewhere below a crash-test dummy.
After this sobering reality check, I spent a few minutes pondering. Clearly, I was far below the combat power needed to take on that entry-level level-1 dummy. But even then, how much of a gap could there really be between my strength of 27 and that untrained-ass, emotionless robot with 40 units that should have served as a tutorial to martial arts training?
In the end, I had to verify that for myself.
"Hey, System, I've decided that I'll fight that level-1 dummy with only boxing anyway. But if I ever say the word 'stop'—even just faintly, barely audible—you have to immediately halt the fight, alright? You're capable of that much, surely, since you're an otherworldly alien creation from gods and whatnot, right?"
>> If that is your final decision, then I shall not go against it, Host. I still hope you have a plan prepared, though, as this attempt is still reckless and perilous nonetheless. At least, if you are ever in mortal danger, I will automatically cancel the fight.
[System notice] - A level-1 dueling dummy with boxing martial arts has been created. Please press the green 'start' button on your system window's training session page to commence the fight.
Reassured by the system's care, I became comfortable with the upcoming fight, still oblivious as to how strong my opponent would truly be. "Great. This should be fun. Start.''
>> Do your best to survive.
"What—" I barely dodged backward as my opponent lunged with a right straight. Taken aback by the speed, I narrowly evaded the punch with my clumsy, self-taught boxing skills.
I quickly assumed a proper stance, sidestepping a left jab aimed at my nose. A right hook followed, smashing into my ribs. Pain shot through me as I forced my legs to retreat. The dummy wasn't giving me a moment to breathe. Gasping, I ran back ten meters, repositioning myself.
I waited for him to close the distance, planning a desperate kick to his stomach. No boxer would expect this. As he approached, I shifted my weight and aimed a crushing blow to his solar plexus—but it failed.
He blocked my turtle-fast kick and unleashed a one-two combo straight at my face. I managed to block the first, but the second grazed my nose, making my vision swim. The terrifying power behind his every punch made me dizzy. Blindly, I swung a heavy right hook to his chin—somehow, it landed—followed by a left uppercut that he dodged effortlessly.
Seeing an opening, I tried a left sidekick, only for him to catch me square on the chin. Pain exploded through my jaw. I opened my mouth to cancel the fight, but a punch to my stomach silenced me. Desperate, I attempted a low kick despite my inexperience, but I retracted too slowly—and the dummy swept my leg out from under me. Or so I thought. Before I knew it, I was getting beaten up on the ground.
Between two rounds of attacks to both my head and body, I managed to breathe once, and it was enough to utter a single word, ''STOP!''
[System Notice] - Fight interrupted: Win/loss count has been updated. Congratulations, this is your first official loss against the level-1 dueling dummy!
Catching my breath and touching my body everywhere it hurt, I sighed, "Did you really have to highlight its level?"
>> I warned you. But you did better than I expected. Congratulations, truly!
"Ohh, fuck off!" I snapped uncontrollably, anger seeping through every syllable.
>> I understand how you feel, but remember, there was a thirteen-unit gap between you and the dummy. It is evident that you wanted to know how much of a strength gap that represented, and now you do. Even a five-unit gap is significant when comparing martial artists with strength below sixty units. Growth is slow; you'll have to take it one step at a time. Even with this method, you can't just go at it recklessly.
"Yes, I understand. You can cease the nagging. I just wanted to see if it was possible to overcome that gap. If I can't even do that, I'll be bound to suffer in the future," I said, regaining my composure.
>> Could you explain your reasoning, host?
I let my thoughts speak, measured and cold. "While you consider this attempt reckless, I deem it necessary. Once I've succeeded in defeating that foe, I'll formulate a training program and follow it. Or perhaps you'll do that for me. But first, I need to overcome this challenge."
>> I see where you're coming from, but is it really necessary to win such a difficult fight before you begin training?
I let my heart answer. "Yes. Otherwise, I wouldn't deserve to use this advantage. I must do something that no one else would dare to do to earn the right to wield such a cheat-like feature."
For some reason, the AI-like voice hesitated before answering, making it feel all the more human despite its metallic-sounding timber. Shortly after, it agreed.
...
Standing in the center of my training ground, I carefully reviewed every aspect of my previous fight, analyzing both my own strengths and weaknesses, as well as the dummy's.
'While it is faster, stronger, more enduring, and technically superior, the dummy is strictly bound to boxing, so I'll need to capitalize once more on that, but right off the bat.'
When I lost, I had assumed it was a leg sweep that brought me down—but the voice clarified that I had briefly lost consciousness after its two-punch combo to my chin and liver. I had been falling while my leg was still extended.
'Its defensive skills aren't that great. I've already caught him in the jaw at a desperate moment, and the attacks he blocked came when I could barely breathe. All I need to do is avoid getting hit, then catch him off guard. Eye poke, throat strike—I need to treat this as a life-or-death battle.'
As I devised my plan, my confidence grew. It was clear I had made mistakes in the first fight, yet I couldn't calm the trembling in my hands.
Assuming an all-around, street-fighting stance, I took a deep breath and focused.
"Start the fight!"
[System Notice] – Fight initiated.
The dummy moved, and in that brief moment of awakening, I struck low, aiming for the groin. It had no effect, freezing us in a timeless, embarrassing instant. I surged forward, my right palm lunging for its throat. It raised its guard, easily blocking my strike—but didn't see my right side kick aimed at its lower stomach.
The dummy flew back a meter. I retreated, keeping my eyes locked on it. Slowing down deliberately, I turned back to his side, slid low, and anchored a leg around its main leg. Using the leverage, I delivered a powerful uppercut to its chin. I pivoted, missing my right elbow strike to the throat, and wildly headbutted its nose so as not to lose my momentum. Detaching my leg, I sent a front kick to its stomach, more to create distance than to do damage.
I flew backward from the kick, rolled, and regained my fighting stance.
It had worked. My chaotic, unpredictable style had caught the dummy off guard.
Catching my breath, I planned my next move as the dummy advanced, a twisted grin spreading across its face. I narrowly dodged a left hook–right body uppercut combo, sidestepping left, and countered with a quick right hook to the solar plexus. It barely blocked, using the same hand that had tried the uppercut. I feinted a fast left overhook to the temple, forcing its guard up, then spun on my heels to drive a knee into its liver.
Exhausted, I gasped for air as I nearly ate a right overhand to my chin. I was running low on steam. I needed to finish this fight now.
Dashing in short, quick steps, I poked him in the eyes and throat multiple times with whip-like attacks. Weak, but unblockable. As my attacks kept racking up damage on him, I managed the distance between us perfectly to avoid getting hit. Soon, I fell into a state where I forgot my fatigue and embraced the rhythm of war that had become our fight.
However, a strong shovel hook that caught me right in the stomach brought me back to reality, and an ungodly pain flashed through my whole being. Still, I held on firm and planned on countering the dummy's incoming, slower attack. Its rear cross was a setup for a stronger, full-weight body shot. As the punch landed, I sent my half-broken right arm up and crashed it down into its unprotected nose. Shaken, I did not stop and dug my fingers into his eyes as if I were trying to gouge them out. In pain, the dummy pushed me, one hand trying to keep me away, with the other resting on his eyes.
Out of breath, I somehow managed to bolt forward and leap onto him. My arms locked around his throat, crushing down by pure instinct, while my legs tangled around his to keep him rooted. He thrashed, fists hammering at my ribs, claws scraping at my arms, trying to escape from my grasp, but there was no way he could do that without the proper technique against a desperate opponent who held him right there, right in front of the gate of death.
His blows hurt, but I clung on like a drowning man clinging to driftwood. Seconds stretched into what felt like eternity, and as my arms were about to give up and my consciousness about to yield, his body sagged, all strength leaving him as we collapsed together onto the cold floor.
I lay there, chest heaving, arms limp, every nerve in my body burning. The dummy was motionless.
I had won.
[System Notice] – You have successfully defeated the level-1 dueling dummy with boxing martial arts for the first time. Congratulations!
I could barely hear the system notification pop in my head as I nearly drifted back into unconsciousness. After a few minutes of rest, I was awake enough to walk and talk.
>> You're more resilient and endurant than expected, Host. I am impressed. Congratulations on your first victory against a stronger opponent, which should now make you eligible to train in safer and healthier means.
"Yeah, right, and thanks," I said tiredly, still exhausted. My heart rate had barely gone down.
>> While you seem to recover fast, I do hope you won't engage in such activities so often. Your physical condition, as you've experienced during this second fight, is still only average. Which technically makes your victory even more impressive, but how did you manage that?
Taken aback by the fact that the godly system kept asking me questions, I simply stared at my status window and squinted my eyes in puzzlement.
>> I am as surprised as you are. Your victory, while theoretically and statistically not impossible, still shouldn't have happened so soon. You've shown no knowledge of any other martial art aside from fairly basic boxing skills, as well as your remarkable resilience and pain tolerance. How did you do it, Host?
Now understanding the voice's question, I recalled my first fight and that short moment before I had initiated the second one. I knew exactly how to win, and it had to do with something I had noticed in the dummy's way of fighting.
"Well, while it knew boxing better than I did, it seemed to have no real fighting experience and always reacted to some of my attacks in a forced defensive maneuver. Any weaker, less skilled opponent would have just struck me. I noticed that even weak attacks from me, if initiated at the right time, could trigger this reaction. All I had to do was exploit this flaw and chip away at his stamina while keeping myself in enough shape to finish him off with a choke.'' I spoke slowly, each word dragging out like I was recounting a story I could barely believe myself.
>> But why did you choose a choke to end the fight?
"Because there was no other effective way for me to ensure a win. Blinding him, exhausting him—it was all meant to lead to the choke. It was the safest option for me to win.'' I finished, sighing as I knew I had also been lucky.
Very lucky.
>> Good insight. So, you made up for your lack of physical and technical attributes with intellect and battle IQ. If you maintain this mentality and train diligently, you will achieve outstanding results. Now, is it time to start your actual training?
"That depends; my knowledge isn't extensive when it comes to training the human body. Do you have a function that allows me to test my physical limits and design a training program that's adapted to my current condition? I will add that, even if it's a woefully painful training method, as long as it can maximize my growth, I'll do it.''
>> I can definitely conduct such a physical test; however, Host, note that the human body of an unwakened being is fragile, and its physical performance can vary in the early stages. I instead suggest that you search for an expert in this domain among your faction's members, as most of my training methods are far beyond what you can handle right now.
"Glorious! Then we'll do this physical test another day. I think I know a guy, a nutritionist, who could potentially help me with muscle growth and basic 'unawakened' types of training.'' I finished my sentence with offensive disdain, my blatant sarcasm getting no reaction from the voice.
It grew annoying to keep calling this training assistant's just voice, so when I watched the training dummy return to its original position, hiding in the dark corner as it put back the sheet over itself after I had turned it off, I said one last thing before leaving. "By the way, do you have a name? I'd like to be able to address you more formally.''
>> I have no names, Host. But you may choose one for me.
Having expected that, I responded quickly after not-so-careful consideration of the name.
"Then it's decided. You'll go by Nexus—it sounds fitting and cool.''
>> Nexus it shall be. Thank you, Host.
"As for you, you should call me Aiden.
...
Kal, still pinned to his chair by Clark and the other executive members, looked like he'd rather be waterboarded than sit through another reunion. When he spotted me leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed.
"Traitor," he muttered, turning away with mock disgust.
I waved hi at the people who saw me enter, and to Kal, I grinned. "Oh, don't be dramatic. I'm here for important reasons!
He huffed loudly enough for half the room to hear. "Somehow I don't doubt that, leader~."
"Uh, don't call me that. You're the last person I want to hear calling me that. Call me master or whatever instead, like usual." I tilted my head. "Anyway, where's Eliot? I need him for my super-secret training program."
Kal snapped back at me, voice dripping sarcasm. "Brilliant. Announce your secret plan in a crowded room. Genius Master."
"Exactly. So secret no one will take it seriously."
He groaned and rubbed his temple. "He's gone helping with various tasks, no clue what though. You'd be better off sending him a message, but you should have already thought of that, otherwise you wouldn't be here, right genius?'' Laughing and further foiling the meeting, I replied, ''Exactly, and since you're the friend of his friend, I came in the hopes that you'd possibly know where he could be.''
"Well, speak of the devil. He's right behind you."
I let out the loudest, most honest 'Huh?' of my life, earning laughter from more than one executive. Turning, I found a red-haired boy—slight but solidly built, with a sharp jaw and bright eyes that radiated his restless knowledge and unspent energy.
"At your service, leader Aiden. I happened to overhear that you wished to see me. How may I help?" His voice carried no trace of nerves, which I appreciated.
"Hello, Eliot. I would indeed like to discuss my personal project with you. However, by your coming here, I assume you may have some business to handle. Thus, I shall wait until you are relieved from your duties before letting you in on any of my shenanigans."
"Oh, that won't be necessary. I am deeply moved that you deem me important enough that I could help you.''
Confused by what I assumed was his overexcitement and disappointed that he immediately gave up on his task simply because I said I needed him, Clark cleared up all my doubts.
"Eliot already finished working two hours ago; he's only helping out on his own with reports because he wants to. He's all yours." He sounded more tired than earlier, I remarked to myself.
"Ah, that is so," I said to Clark, nodding at him slowly, my eyes conveying a subtle, humorous "huh," then turning back to Eliot, I said, "Then I shall abduct you right this instant."
Eliot laughed at my joke, shaking his head with amusement. Together, we left the meeting behind and made our way back to the training grounds.
...
"Leader, Clark has accepted that I spend up to four hours with you daily to help you on your 'secret training program' that only he has been informed about," Eliot said while I stretched my arms in hopes of reducing the soreness I had received from my previous fights.
''Great,''
"I can't believe it, though, that such a great thing actually does exist! With this and my help, you won't have any problems becoming one of the strongest in our region in a short time," he exclaimed, analyzing the dummy's structure scrupulously.
"This is the objective, and that's why only you and I can know about this. I want you to understand that we're not hiding its existence out of selfishness, but because it's too risky. There's only one, so even if my clansmen knew about it, it wouldn't be possible to let them all train with it effectively. And if word of it ever spread beyond us, we'd be guaranteed to face an onslaught from greedy and opportunistic opponents."
"I understand, and as I've said before, you can trust that I will never reveal this to the world. I can swear on—''
"Well, I wouldn't have roped you into my plans and exposed that guy if I didn't trust you. Your reputation as a good human being was well-known all over the school, so be at ease.''
Eliot flashed me a wide smile and nodded as he checked the time on his status window.
"Well then, it's time to start planning your workout program, leader. I'll make sure it hurts—in all the right ways."
My body screamed with soreness, but my grin only widened. Pain meant progress. Eliot wasn't here to coddle me—he was here to break me down and rebuild me stronger. And the thought of that… thrilled me to the core.