The words blurred together after a while.
Jin leaned forward, elbows on the table, squinting down at a page littered with diagrams and old ink notes. Another passage about grip pressure. Another reminder about footwork and center of gravity. Another perfect world explanation, written for students who already knew what a sword was supposed to feel like.
He flipped to the next page, jaw tightening slightly.
More of the same.
It wasn't bad. It just wasn't enough.
He could understand the theory—but there was no flow, no connective tissue between the ideas. No bridge from "hold the blade this way" to become the blade this way. Every book assumed he had a master standing over his shoulder, correcting him. Every manual expected foundation he didn't have.
Jin sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling.
This wasn't going to cut it.
He needed something more.
The thought slipped in without warning—quiet but sharp.
The system lets me upgrade the base... doesn't it?
