The shrill cry of his alarm clock cut through the darkness like a blade, dragging Kai from what should have been eternal rest. He bolted upright in bed, his hand instinctively flying to his throat where the phantom memory of Daichi's final blow still lingered like a brand.
But there was nothing there—no crushed windpipe, no blood, no grinding of shattered bones with every desperate breath.
His hands trembled as he stared at them in the pale morning light filtering through curtains he distinctly remembered throwing away when he'd moved out for college. These weren't the hands of a twenty-seven-year-old office worker who'd spent years hunched over computers and boxing statistics. These were the soft, unmarked hands of a teenager who'd never thrown a serious punch in his life.
The room around him was impossible. His teenage bedroom, complete with the faded boxing posters he'd been embarrassed about by age twenty and the pile of training manuals scattered across his desk. Floyd Mayweather gracing the cover of Ring Magazine with his trademark defensive stance, Manny Pacquiao captured mid-combination on another, Miguel Cotto looking ready to tear through anyone foolish enough to face him. All the fighters who'd defined the sport in 2010, when he was seventeen and still believed that watching fights from the safety of his room was enough.
But the memories remained. Every brutal, horrifying detail of that night in the alley burned in his consciousness like acid poured on an open wound. The sound of Yuki's screams, the feeling of helplessness as his broken body refused to obey his desperate commands, the cold satisfaction in Daichi's eyes as he destroyed everything Kai cared about. The knowledge that his father's death hadn't been an accident, that his mother's twenty-year hospitalization was the result of grief over a murder, not a tragic car crash.
A translucent blue window suddenly materialized in front of his face, floating in the air like something out of a science fiction movie. Kai jerked backward, nearly falling off his bed as the impossible display hovered at eye level.
╔══════════════╗
║ KING OF THE RING SYSTEM ║
╚══════════════╝
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] User's wish has been granted Now uploading: King of the Ring Sequence...
A loading bar appeared beneath the text, slowly filling with a pulsing blue light:
████████████████████████████████████ 100% [■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■] Upload Complete!
Kai stared at the impossible display, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard he thought it might burst. This had to be a hallucination—some kind of dying brain activity as his consciousness faded in that alley. But when he reached out to touch the window, his hand passed through it like it was made of light, causing the interface to shimmer and respond to his movement.
A cheerful chime echoed in his mind as new windows cascaded into view:
╔══════════════╗
║ USER PROFILE ║
╠══════════════╣
║ Name: Kai Nakamura ║
║ Age: 17 ║
║ Level: 1 ║
║ Exp: 0/100 ║
║ Title: None ║
║ Status: Severely Undertrained║
╚══════════════╝
Another window appeared below the first, displaying information that made Kai's breath catch in his throat:
╔═════════════╗
║ BASE STATS ║
╠═════════════╣
║ Strength: [●○○○○○○○○○] 5/100 ║
║ Speed: [●○○○○○○○○○] 5/100 ║
║ Stamina: [●○○○○○○○○○] 5/100 ║
║ Technique: [●○○○○○○○○○] 5/100
║ Ring IQ: [●○○○○○○○○○] 5/100 ║
║ Killer Instinct: [●○○○○○○○○○] 5/100
╚══════════════╝
The numbers were humiliating but not surprising. Seventeen years old and completely untrained, with stats that barely registered on whatever scale this system was using. But as another window materialized, Kai felt his understanding of the situation shift dramatically:
╔══════════════╗
║ LOCKED ABILITIES ║
╠══════════════╣
║ 🔒 Mayweather's Philly Shell - Requirements: SPD 25, TEC 30 ║
║ 🔒 Lomachenko's Matrix Movement - Requirements: SPD 35, IQ 40 ║
║ 🔒 Pacquiao's Lightning Combo - Requirements: SPD 30, TEC 25 ║
║ 🔒 Canelo's Counter System - Requirements: TEC 35, IQ 30 ║
║ 🔒 Iron Mike's Peek-a-Boo - Requirements: STR 30, SPD 25 ║
║ 🔒 Ali's Phantom Footwork - Requirements: SPD 40, STA 35 ║
║ [View More: 127 Additional Locked Skills]
╚═════════════╝
The list that followed made Kai's eyes widen in disbelief. Every boxing technique he'd ever studied was there—skills that wouldn't be fully developed for years, fighting styles that existed only in his memories of future champions, combinations that he'd analyzed frame by frame but never imagined he could actually perform.
Techniques from fighters who were still amateurs, styles that hadn't been perfected yet, defensive systems that wouldn't become famous until years later. All of it was here, locked behind stat requirements that seemed impossibly high for his current level.
But it was there. The knowledge of twenty years of obsessive study, transformed into abilities he could actually learn and use if he became strong enough to meet the requirements.
A new window appeared, this one pulsing with urgent red borders:
╔════════════╗
║ DAILY TRAINING MISSION║
╠════════════╣
║ Time Remaining: 23:59:45 ║
║ Push-ups: [○○○○○○○○○○] 0/50 ║
║ Sit-ups: [○○○○○○○○○○] 0/50 ║
║ Squats: [○○○○○○○○○○] 0/50 ║
║ Running: [○○○○○○○○○○] 0/5km ║
║ Completion Rewards: +1 All Base Stats • 50 Experience Points • Unlock: Basic Training Manual ║
║ Failure Penalty: • 72-hour System Lockout • Stat Regression (-1 All Stats). ║
╚═════════════╝
"This is insane," Kai whispered, but even as he said it, he was already swinging his legs out of bed. Insane or not, this was exactly what he'd prayed for in that alley—a chance to become strong enough to protect the people he loved and destroy the animals who'd murdered his father.
His legs felt shaky as he stood up, his seventeen-year-old body lacking the muscle memory and conditioning that had taken him years to develop in his original timeline. But there was something else—a potential for growth that hummed beneath his skin like electricity waiting to be channeled.
"Kai! Get your lazy ass down here before breakfast gets cold!" Uncle Hiroshi's voice boomed from downstairs, exactly as it had every morning during his senior year. The same gruff affection, the same underlying warmth that he tried to hide behind tough-guy posturing.
But now Kai heard something else in his uncle's voice—the weight of responsibility that came with raising two orphaned teenagers while running a struggling gym. Uncle Hiroshi had been a middleweight contender himself before their father's death had forced him to retire early and take over their care.
The man who'd sacrificed his own boxing dreams to raise them. The man who'd never once complained about the burden, who'd worked three jobs to keep food on the table and the gym's lights on. Who drove to the hospital every week to visit Kai's mother, even though she barely recognized him anymore.
In his original timeline, Kai had taken that sacrifice for granted, too absorbed in his own comfortable passivity to appreciate what his uncle had given up for them.
Not this time.
Kai dropped to the floor and assumed a push-up position, his form sloppy but determined. The first repetition was harder than he'd expected—his arms shaking with the effort of supporting his own body weight. By the tenth push-up, his muscles were burning. By the twentieth, he was gasping for breath.
But he kept going. Every rep brought him one step closer to the strength he needed. Every drop of sweat was an investment in the power to protect Yuki, to avenge his father, to destroy the Sasaki family and everyone who'd helped them turn boxing into a tool for criminals.
"Kai!" Uncle Hiroshi's voice again, now tinged with concern. "You better not have fallen back asleep up there!"
"Coming, Uncle!" Kai called back, surprising himself with how strong and clear his voice sounded. "Just... getting some exercise in!"
He could hear his uncle's footsteps pause on the stairs, probably wondering if he'd heard correctly. In seventeen years, Kai had never voluntarily exercised before breakfast.
The push-ups were completed with grim determination, and Kai moved on to sit-ups. The system's interface floated at the edge of his vision, updating his progress in real time:
Push-ups: [■■■■■■■■■■] 50/50 ✓
Sit-ups: [■■■■■■■■○○] 40/50
His abdomen felt like it was on fire, but Kai pushed through the last ten repetitions with single-minded focus. This wasn't just exercise—this was the foundation of his revenge. Every rep was a step toward becoming someone who could stand against monsters like Daichi Sasaki.
The squats were the worst part. By the fortieth repetition, his legs were trembling so badly he could barely maintain proper form. But the memory of Yuki's screams drove him forward, rep after burning rep until the counter finally hit fifty.
Push-ups: [■■■■■■■■■■] 50/50 ✓
Sit-ups: [■■■■■■■■■■] 50/50 ✓
Squats: [■■■■■■■■■■] 50/50 ✓
Running: [○○○○○○○○○○] 0/5km
Now came the real test. Five kilometers might not sound like much, but for someone with a base stamina stat of 5, it might as well have been a marathon. Kai pulled on his old running shoes—shoes that in his original timeline had gathered dust in his closet for years—and headed downstairs.
Uncle Hiroshi was in the kitchen, reading the sports section while nursing his morning coffee. His weathered face showed the accumulated stress of twenty years spent trying to hold everything together—the gym, the family, his own broken dreams. When he looked up as Kai entered, his dark eyes showed surprise at seeing his nephew dressed for exercise.
"You're up early," Hiroshi observed, his voice carrying that particular tone adults used when they suspected teenagers of planning something. "And you look like you've been exercising. Since when do you voluntarily break a sweat?"
"Since I decided I want to get serious about boxing," Kai said, the words feeling strange but right in his mouth. "I want to train for real, Uncle. Not just watching and analyzing—actual training."
Uncle Hiroshi set down his newspaper, his expression shifting from surprise to something that might have been hope. The same hope Kai had seen countless times before, whenever his uncle had tried to convince him to take up the family tradition.
"Real training? You mean competitive training?"
"I mean whatever it takes to become a fighter. A real fighter, like Dad was."
The mention of his father made Uncle Hiroshi's expression grow complex—pride and pain and old grief all mixed together. For a moment, he just stared at Kai, as if trying to determine whether this was some kind of joke or teenage phase.
"What brought this on?" he asked finally. "Yesterday you were content to watch fights on TV and argue about techniques you'd never tried. Today you want to step into a ring?"
Kai thought about the question as he stretched against the kitchen counter. How could he explain that he'd already lived through twenty years of being weak, of watching stronger men take whatever they wanted while good people suffered? How could he tell his uncle that he now had access to a system that could transform him into the kind of fighter the world had never seen?
"I had a dream," he said finally, settling on the closest thing to the truth he could share. "A really vivid dream about what my life might look like if I never pushed myself to become stronger. And I realized I don't want to spend the next ten years wondering what might have been if I'd had the courage to try."
Uncle Hiroshi nodded slowly, a small smile beginning to spread across his weathered face. "Dreams can be powerful motivators. But dreams won't carry you through the real work of becoming a fighter. That takes dedication, sacrifice, and a willingness to push through pain when every instinct tells you to quit."
"I'm ready for that," Kai said, and meant it. He'd already endured the ultimate pain—watching the woman he loved suffer while he lay helpless and broken. Physical training would be nothing compared to that nightmare.
"We'll see. First rule of real training—consistency matters more than intensity. Don't try to become a champion overnight."
If only he knew, Kai thought as he headed for the door. The system interface materialized again, showing a map of his neighborhood with an optimal running route highlighted in blue. Five kilometers through familiar streets that would take him past the school, around the park where he'd sometimes watched Uncle Hiroshi train other students, and back home.
As he began to run, his feet hitting the pavement in a rhythm that gradually became hypnotic, Kai reflected on how much his life had changed in the span of a single morning. Twelve hours ago, he'd been dying in an alley, helpless and broken. Now he was seventeen again, armed with twenty years of boxing knowledge and a system that could turn that knowledge into actual power.
The running was brutal. Within a kilometer, his lungs were burning and his legs felt like lead weights. But every time he wanted to stop, every time his body screamed for rest, he thought about his mother lying in that hospital bed, her mind shattered by grief she'd never been able to process. About his father's murder being disguised as an accident. About Yuki's face in that alley.
The system's progress tracker kept him motivated
Running: [■■■■■○○○○○] 2.5/5km
Current Pace: 6:45/km
Estimated Completion: 32 minutes
Heart Rate: 162 BPM
The streets were familiar but felt different now—not just places he'd walked countless times, but a training ground where he was forging himself into something new. Past the convenience store where he'd bought manga instead of protein bars, past the school where he'd spent years being invisible, past the hospital where his mother had spent the last twenty years of her life.
He'd visit her later today, he decided. She wouldn't recognize him—she never did—but maybe if he became strong enough, if he destroyed the people who'd taken his father from them, maybe somehow that would matter.
By the time he completed the route and staggered back to his uncle's house, Kai was completely exhausted but triumphant. The system's completion notification appeared in golden letters:
╔═════════════╗
║ DAILY MISSION COMPLETE!║
╠═════════════╣
║ All exercises completed successfully ║
║ Rewards Earned: ║
• +1 All Base Stats
• 50 Experience Points
• Unlock: Jab Technique (Basic)
• Unlock: Basic Footwork Pattern
║ Level Progress: 50/100 EXP ║
╚═════════════╝
The change was immediate and dramatic. Kai could feel his body responding to the stat increase—muscles that had been trembling with exhaustion now felt energized, his breathing steadied, and a sense of vitality flowed through him like electricity.
╔════════════╗
║ BASE STATS ║
╠════════════╣
║ Strength: [●●○○○○○○○○] 6/100 ║
║ Speed: [●●○○○○○○○○] 6/100 ║
║ Stamina: [●●○○○○○○○○] 6/100 ║
║ Technique: [●●○○○○○○○○] 6/100
║ Ring IQ: [●●○○○○○○○○] 6/100 ║
║ Killer Instinct: [●●○○○○○○○○] 6/100 ║
╚════════════╝
It was just one point in each stat, barely noticeable on the overall scale, but Kai could feel the difference. His body felt more responsive, his mind clearer, his reflexes slightly sharper. If this was what one day of training could accomplish, what would a month achieve? A year?
Uncle Hiroshi was waiting for him in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand and an expression of genuine surprise on his weathered face. Behind him, Kai could hear movement from upstairs—his younger sister Emi getting ready for school, probably wondering why he'd been making noise so early.
"You actually did it," Hiroshi said, shaking his head in amazement. "Five kilometers on your first real run. I have to admit, I'm impressed. Most people can barely manage one kilometer their first time out."
"It wasn't easy, but it felt... right," Kai said, grabbing a glass of water and drinking deeply. The liquid tasted better than he remembered, another small benefit of his improved stats. "Like something I should have been doing all along."
"Well, if you're serious about this boxing thing, we need to talk about proper training methods. Random workouts won't cut it if you want to compete."
"What would proper training look like?"
Uncle Hiroshi's eyes lit up with the kind of enthusiasm Kai hadn't seen in years. For twenty years, his uncle had been waiting for someone in the family to show real interest in carrying on the Nakamura boxing tradition.
"Systematic development," Hiroshi said, pulling out a notepad and beginning to sketch rough training schedules. "Technique work, conditioning, sparring, mental preparation. The complete package. But it starts with fundamentals—proper stance, basic combinations, defensive positioning."
"How long would it take to become competitive?"
"That depends on your natural ability and how hard you're willing to work. Some fighters need years to develop basic competency. Others can pick up the fundamentals in months." Hiroshi studied Kai's face, looking for something. "The question is whether you have the dedication to find out which type you are."
As they discussed training schedules and goals over breakfast, Kai felt a satisfaction that went deeper than just completing his first daily mission. He was finally moving in the right direction—toward becoming someone who could protect the people he loved and destroy the monsters who threatened them.
The gentle, caring person who wanted to shield others from harm was still there. He chatted easily with Emi when she came downstairs, asking about her school projects and offering to help with her math homework. He listened patiently as Uncle Hiroshi told stories about some of the amateur fighters he'd been training at the gym.
But underneath the familiar warmth and kindness, something new was growing. A core of steel that hadn't existed before, forged from the memory of absolute helplessness and tempered by the promise of power.
The Sasaki family had no idea what was coming for them.
But they would learn.
The system interface flickered once more as Kai prepared to leave for school:
[NEW OBJECTIVE UNLOCKED]
Visit hospitalized mother
Reward: +2 Mental Fortitude
Special Reward: Unlock Emotion Control Skill
Time Limit: 48 hours
Kai's chest tightened as he read the notification. Even the system recognized that some battles couldn't be won with strength alone. Some wounds went deeper than anything physical training could heal.
But maybe, if he became strong enough, if he destroyed the people who'd caused his family so much pain, maybe that would be its own kind of healing.
Today would be the first day of his new life. The first day of becoming someone worthy of the second chance he'd been given.
The first day of his journey toward revenge.