"Lower! Faster!"
A deep masculine voice echoed across the wide training ground.
A group of people moved in sync, sweat glistening under the harsh sun. The space was outfitted with top-tier equipment and weapon racks lining the walls. At the center stood a towering flag—its design unmistakable: a white serpent devouring its own tail.
This was the base of the Vipers faction.
Three fairly large, two-story buildings stood scattered across the compound, their exteriors faded from years of sun and wear. Several vehicles were parked nearby, and people moved busily in and out, each with their own task or destination.
Beyond the buildings, nestled at the back of the estate, was the training ground. Roughly twenty young men and women were already there, locked in intense drills as they followed the commands of a single man with unwavering focus.
"I said lower, idiots!" the voice roared, even more ferocious than before. A few trainees collapsed, only to be beaten back to their feet by the bald man standing in front of them.
That man was Bumi Stern—leader of the Vipers Faction.
"I'm gonna give up!" Jay gasped, struggling to breathe. His legs were numb, and he had no idea how much longer he could last.
They were doing squats. Jay had long lost count—he'd stopped somewhere around 140.
"I wanna give up too," Flu panted, fear in his voice. "But did you see what he did to Gina? Let's just keep trying until he calms down. Right, Chuck?"
Chuck didn't answer. Instead, he sped up, squatting faster than anyone else on the field, sweat pouring off him like rain.
He would never forget the humiliation and powerlessness he felt that day. Not only had a girl utterly disgraced him and his friends, but he'd also suffered another embarrassing defeat at the hands of Craven.
He wanted to punch himself for being so weak, so useless—but all he could do was push harder. Grow stronger. Prove to those godforsaken Bulls what he was really capable of.
"That's enough!" Bumi barked.
Most of the trainees collapsed to the ground, exhausted and aching all over—Jay and Flu included.
"Chuck, Jay, Flu. Outside. Now!" he growled, his glare locking onto the three boys.
"Eh?!" Jay and Flu nearly fainted. They had just finished God-knows-how-many squats… and now this? When would it end?
Chuck didn't argue or protest. He simply stepped forward and stood in front of Bumi, hands folded neatly behind his back. Jay and Flu followed after him, though they walked like their legs weighed a ton.
"Now…" Bumi stepped in, stopping inches from Chuck. His voice dropped low and dangerous. "Did you—or did you not—go to the Dark Bulls' home and attack them?"
Bumi was a large man—tall and broad, towering over the boys in front of him. His presence alone was enough to intimidate anyone. But Chuck stood firm. He knew he'd made a mistake, and he wasn't afraid to own it.
"We did, sir," he said confidently.
Flu nearly fainted on the spot, while Jay was already picturing what the afterlife might look like.
'Maybe I can eat clouds in heaven...'
"And did you or did you not lose?" Bumi asked, a vein popping on his shiny bald head.
Jay stepped up nervously. "Well, sir, you see—"
"We did, sir. Woefully," Chuck interrupted, calm as ever.
Flu looked like he was about to cry. Jay? He mentally wrote his will. They were done for.
"And you know the consequence for failure, right?" Bumi said, eyes locked on Chuck, completely ignoring the other two.
For the first time, a flicker of worry crossed Chuck's face. He knew the kind of man Bumi was—failure wasn't something he took lightly. There was no escaping the horrors that awaited them. Still, Chuck squared his shoulders and answered calmly.
"Yes, sir. We do."
Jay and Flu flinched at the word. 'We?' Their souls left their bodies. The tears came right after.
"Good." Bumi cracked a smile. This was why he liked Chuck—the boy was never afraid of a challenge. He was tempted to see just how long that determination would last.
"Now, why don't you and everyone else involved go for a little jog… before your punishment."
"Wait… the squats weren't the punishment?" Jay whispered to Flu, horror spreading across his face.
""Ten laps around the base for everyone else—and twenty for you three," Bumi ordered.
Groans of frustration echoed from those involved, while the others silently thanked their stars.
Jay and Flu hung their heads like men headed to the gallows, their expressions twisted into pained smiles.
"We're so dead…" they muttered together, laughing the laugh of the doomed.
In an instant, someone breezed past the two of them. Jay and Flu looked up to see who it was—Chuck had already started his laps. One by one, the others followed, spurred on by the sight of him taking his punishment without a single complaint.
"We can do this!" Flu shouted as if he hadn't been dying three minutes ago.
"We're finishing these laps—even if it kills us, revives us, and kills us again!" Jay cried, his words dramatic enough to make even Bumi raise a brow.
Bumi watched the two idiots join the others with a faint smile. Oh, the sweet sound of naive confidence. He almost felt bad for what was coming next. Almost.
"As for you lot..." He turned to the rest of the group who hadn't been called out. Not everyone here had taken part in the Dark Bulls incident—but they did have one thing in common with Chuck and his gang: they were all new recruits who joined this year. And Bumi believed in equal opportunity suffering.
"Don't think you're off the hook just yet. You're all about to learn a little something I like to call teamwork."
The devilish smile that followed made every single one of them gulp in fear.
Later that evening, the group had managed to complete their laps, leaving only the trio to continue theirs. Though thankfully, they only had a few more to go.
"H-Hey... where's... where's Jay?" Chuck struggled to get the words out, nearly at his breaking point. He asked only because he realized Flu was the only one still behind him.
"He...Fainted...three laps...ago." Flu gasped. He himself looked like he was well on his way to passing out as well.
"After all... that talk about... finishing even if it... kills us," Chuck scoffed. They were almost done—just a few more steps and the final lap would be behind them.
Using nothing but sheer willpower, Chuck completed the 20 laps around the base—which, for the record, was no small compound. Flu had fainted somewhere along the way too.
Chuck staggered toward the water table like a zombie. After guzzling enough water to drown a camel, he looked up—and there they were. Jay and Flu, wobbling toward him like survivors of a natural disaster.
"We... we freaking crushed it," Jay croaked, hanging off Flu's shoulder like wet laundry.
"You were unconscious half the time," Chuck said with a crooked grin.
Jay squinted. "Shut up, Flu."
Chuck gave him a look. "I'm Chuck."
"I'm over here, stupid," Flu called out.
"What the... walking sticks can talk?" Jay blinked, genuinely surprised. It just showed how exhausted he was.
Without a word, Flu shoved him off his shoulder. Jay hit the ground with a thud.
Chuck chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "You really are hopeless."
They stayed and talked for a while, and before they knew it, night had crept up on them. Chuck eventually stood up and headed inside to rest, with Flu following close behind—he was just as drained.
As for Jay…
"Hey, guys… I still can't move," he chuckled weakly. He was still lying exactly where Flu had dropped him earlier, completely out of energy.
Chuck and Flu ignored him and kept walking toward the building without so much as a glance back.
Jay watched them go, his head barely lifted off the ground.
"…Meh. They'll be back… right?" he asked no one in particular, his voice uncertain and tired.
Silence answered him. Crickets chirped in the distance.
"…Right?"
"If I die here, someone better tell my story… and lie about how I went out." he shouted after them.
It was late now. The Vipers faction had gone quiet—most of its members either fast asleep or simply lying in bed, resting their sore bodies from the day's brutal training. The same went for the trio... or at least, two out of the three.
Chuck shifted under his sheets, eyes wide open. This was the fourth night in a row he couldn't sleep. Ever since the clash with the Dark Bulls, his mind refused to rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their smug faces—mocking him, reminding him of the defeat he couldn't forget.
He couldn't take it anymore.
Kicking off his sheets, Chuck rose to his feet and quietly slipped out of the building. The cool night air greeted him as he stepped outside, the silence pressing down like a weight.
The Vipers' base had three buildings. One housed the new recruits and lower-ranked members—that was the one Chuck stayed in.
The second building was reserved for higher-ranking members and those with special status. It housed the strongest and most important individuals within the Vipers, and the living conditions reflected that—significantly better, more comfortable, and better equipped than the first building.
It was possible for members from the first building to move up, but only through promotions. Most newcomers, however, started at the bottom, and few climbed the ranks quickly.
The third and final building housed shared facilities like the dining hall, storage rooms, and other utility spaces. But the top floor was different. It was completely sealed off from the rest—an entire level dedicated to the living quarters of their leader, Bumi.
Chuck made his way toward the building and climbed the stairs, stopping at a large, reinforced door. It looked impossibly thick.
He knocked.
The wood—or whatever metal it was—barely echoed under his fist. The doors didn't so much as tremble. Chuck doubted he could break through them even if he used every ounce of his strength.
He recalled hearing how Craven had once stormed into the building to confront Bumi. Looking at these doors now, Chuck couldn't imagine how the man had managed to get through. They didn't just look unbreakable—they felt like it.
It was late, so it wasn't surprising that Bumi didn't answer right away. After knocking a few more times and still getting no response, Chuck sighed and turned around. He didn't even know what had come over him—why hadn't he just waited until morning?
But just then, the heavy doors creaked open.
Standing in the doorway was Bumi, eyes half-shut and a tired scowl on his face.
"…What?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes.
Chuck took a deep breath and clenched his fists. He had rehearsed this in his head over and over again. But now, standing in front of Bumi, the words felt heavy—stuck in his throat.
"I... I want to grow stronger," he finally said.
"Okay..." Bumi yawned, scratching his head. Why did this kid come all the way here at this hour just to say that?
Chuck's tone shifted. "I remember how I felt… when I saw Craven attacking my friends." His voice grew cold. "I felt powerless."
He lowered his head, then bowed deeply.
"I never want to feel like that again. So please..." He gritted his teeth. "Please, train me. Make me strong enough to make Craven—and that bitch—pay."
For a long moment, Bumi just stared at him.
Then he smiled.
This determination... it wasn't something he saw often in his faction. Not even in the older members. He liked this kid.
"Fine," Bumi said. "But only after you survive tomorrow's punishment. Then—and only then—you can ask to be my student. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" Chuck straightened up and gave a crisp salute, grinning from ear to ear.