"Run, quick!" Max ordered them. "Move... I want you to do 2,000 laps in less than four hours!"
"He's lost his mind again..." Gouten whispered to Oliver as they continued running around the dojo.
"This is the fourth time he's increased the number of laps..." Oliver commented, struggling to keep up with his cousin.
"Well... at least we're adapting to the training..."
"Adapting? There's never enough time to do the number of laps Max wants us to do!" Oliver replied, sounding tired. "Six hours isn't enough for just 740 laps!"
"When did you become good at math?" Gouten asked with a half-smile.
"I have no idea..." Oliver replied, without stopping running.
"Keep talking and I'll make you run 3,000 laps... at gunpoint," Max growled with a frown.
"What a grump..." Oliver muttered, trying to pick up the pace. However, Max responded with a swift kick to his back.
Oliver crashed to the ground and rolled a couple of times before hitting a tree head-on. For a few seconds, everything was silent, until the boy's cry of pain broke the air.
"You talk too much, Oliver... and you can't even finish a measly training session," Max snapped, slowly approaching his brother.
Gouten stood motionless, his legs trembling, watching his cousin writhe in pain.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Max?" Oliver moaned with one hand on his back, trying to stand up. His clothes were dirty and his lip was trembling.
Without warning, Max grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face against the floor.
"Are you going to keep talking like that, Oliver?" he asked coldly.
"What's going on here...?" Gouten wondered, frozen with fear. "Why is Max acting this way? ... He's being too strict... He's just going to hurt Oliver..."
"Max..." Gouten stammered in a trembling voice.
"Shut up, Gouten!" Max ordered, his gaze fixed on Oliver. He lifted him off the floor, holding him by the hair, while Oliver clung to his arm to try to ease the pain of the pull.
"L-let me go..." Oliver whimpered with tears in his eyes, unable to bear the pain.
"Earn it," Max snapped with a wild look in his eyes. "Come on, weakling... earn some respect..."
"Weakling?" Oliver repeated between sobs and gasps.
"Max!" Gouten shouted, finally shaking off his fear. "I don't know what's going on, but let Oliver go right now!"
Max snorted and threw his brother near Gouten, who didn't hesitate to help him up.
"Who gave you permission to raise your voice?" Max growled coldly.
"No one raised their voice at you!" Oliver confronted him, struggling to his feet.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Max?" Gouten shouted, trembling with rage. "Have you gone mad?"
"Shut up or you're next!" Max warned him, narrowing his eyes.
"Go ahead! I'll beat you up!" Gouten replied, clenching his fists and adopting a fighting stance. The gesture surprised both Max and Oliver.
Max softened his gaze a little, silently assessing him. "Gouten has already started to take the initiative... that's progress," he thought. "His stance is inefficient, but he's still trying to stand up to me..."
He looked at Oliver, but his expression changed, showing slight disappointment. "My own brother is still a weakling... he didn't even try to hit me back..." he continued thinking to himself. "Although... Oliver has always been very kind. Maybe he didn't confront me because I'm his brother..."
"You embarrass me, Oliver..." Max said in a dry tone. "Gouten had to defend you. What a disappointment..."
Oliver just remained silent at Max's words, gently lowering his gaze, sad and resigned. This only caused Max to clench his teeth in frustration.
"It's been three weeks since I've been training you... I've already taught you how to punch and kick," Max said in a cold voice. "Fight each other..."
"You changed your mind again? What's going on?" Gouten asked, frowning and breathing heavily.
"Shut up and obey!" Max snapped. "I'll beat up the loser..."
"That's stupid..." Gouten replied, looking away in disbelief.
"If you don't fight... I'll beat both of you up," Max insisted in a cold voice.
"This is absurd..." Oliver commented, looking down in frustration. "How do you expect us to fight if we know that the loser will get beaten up?"
"If that's how it's going to be... come here," Gouten said in a trembling voice, clenching his fists.
"I started off on the wrong foot... I wanted to see results and used the wrong order of actions," Max reflected, narrowing his eyes. "I shouldn't have tried to intimidate them from the start... anyway..."
"All right... rest for today..." Max said, closing his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "But this isn't over... tomorrow you'll fight, and I'll put you to the test..."
Oliver and Gouten looked at him in silence. One swallowed hard, while the other was about to open his mouth.
"I'm not going to hit anyone..." Max interrupted in an annoyed voice. "I forgive you for my incorrect order of methods..."
Both boys watched him walk away without another word, a lump in their throats. When he was out of sight, they were finally able to relax and take a deep breath.
"What the hell happened to him?!" exclaimed Gouten, his voice trembling. "He treated us like we were his soldiers!"
"What if that's how he sees us?" Oliver murmured uneasily, his hand trembling.
"What do you mean?" Gouten asked, surprised.
"He said he would train us to be as strong as him... so we could help him on a personal mission..." Oliver replied in a low voice, feeling nervousness run through him. This is getting worse and worse... What awaits us tomorrow?
"Don't worry about it..." replied Gouten, trying to sound calm, although his voice betrayed the same intrigue as Oliver's. "Mr. Baldur always says that thinking too much about things is bad... So let's find something else to do."
"Yes..." sighed Oliver, trying to regain his composure.
Max entered the main house and went straight to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, taking a long sip. At that moment, he heard a firm voice behind him.
"I saw everything, Max," Baldur said in a serious tone. "Are you happy with what you've accomplished?"
Max turned his head and saw him sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea in his hands and a teapot beside him. Baldur's gaze reflected deep rejection and a hint of disapproval toward the young man.
"You don't understand what's going on, Mr. Baldur," Max replied in a low voice, but one full of conviction. "You don't understand the Senkayn mentality... we are born weak or strong. If we are born weak and are humiliated, we must become strong so we can shut our teachers up... even if it means rolling around in the mud.
"I've told you before, Max... 'the environment affects performance.'" Baldur held his gaze firmly.
"That's the most meaningless phrase I've ever heard in my life..." Max replied seriously, without looking away. "Performance is affected by the individual," not the environment.
"You're misusing your words!" Baldur shouted. "You're just scaring your cousin and your brother, and slowly entering a world you won't be able to leave!"
"I'm making them stronger!" Max replied, extending his arm to the side. "Are you refusing to acknowledge it? Okay, keep it up..."
"Last warning, Max," Baldur replies coldly, "or I'll take action..."
"Whatever..." Max replies, not taking the old man seriously, and leaves the kitchen, leaving Baldur with deep frustration and a bitter taste in his mouth.