Chapter 4 — First Blood
Floating Cloud City was quiet at night.
The kind of quiet that never sat right with me.
Too quiet, like the calm before a storm.
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I'd been out late, finishing my extra conditioning after hauling water all day. The moon hung low over the rooftops, pale light spilling into the narrow alleyways as I jogged back toward the small house I called home.
That's when I heard it.
A shout. Sharp. Panicked.
Then another.
A woman's voice.
I froze, every instinct screaming at me.
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I didn't want to get involved.
This was Floating Cloud City, where strength ruled and weakness was currency. Meddling in someone else's trouble usually got you killed.
But…
I clenched my fists.
If I couldn't step in now — with all my training — then what was the point?
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I followed the sound, darting down a side alley until I found them.
Three men. Rough-looking, low-level thugs by the look of them. One had a rusty blade; the other two looked like they'd stepped straight out of a gutter brawl.
Pinned against the wall was a girl — maybe twelve, maybe thirteen — her thin arms wrapped protectively around a basket of fruit.
One of the men grinned, leaning in close.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Hand it over. Don't make this hard."
She shook her head, trembling.
And that was it.
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I stepped into the alley.
"Let her go."
Three heads snapped toward me.
For a moment, there was silence. Then one of the men — the one with the rusty blade — snorted.
"Oh, look, another hero." He grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "Walk away, boy. You don't want this fight."
My heart was hammering.
The simulations had given me skills, yes. Breathing, balance, even chakra control. But this was real. No resets. No safety nets.
I inhaled, deep and steady, letting my training take over.
Total Concentration Breathing.
My pulse slowed. My senses sharpened. The world narrowed to the three men in front of me.
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The one with the blade lunged first, sloppy and overextended.
I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and drove my knee into his gut.
He folded like wet paper, gasping as the blade clattered to the ground.
The second thug cursed and charged, swinging wild.
This one was harder. Sloppier, yes — but raw strength behind the blows. I ducked under a punch, felt it whistle past my ear, and countered with a sharp elbow to his ribs.
Pain flared in my arm — reality reminding me that my body wasn't fully conditioned yet — but the thug staggered back with a wheeze.
The third one hesitated, eyes flicking between me and his fallen friends.
For a moment, I thought he'd run.
Then he roared and charged.
This time, I met him head-on.
Breath steady. Movements sharp.
A feint to the left. A sweep to his legs. And then my fist connecting with his jaw, sending him sprawling into a pile of trash.
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Silence.
The girl stared at me, wide-eyed, clutching her basket like a lifeline.
The three men groaned on the ground, too winded or dazed to get up.
I forced myself to keep breathing, keep calm, even as adrenaline burned through my veins.
When I finally spoke, my voice was steady.
"Go home. Stay out of the alleys at night."
She nodded quickly, then darted past me, disappearing into the safety of the main street.
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Only when she was gone did I let myself collapse against the wall, shaking.
Because as much as I'd won, the fight had exposed everything wrong with my progress.
My strikes lacked weight. My breathing slipped twice. And the second thug's punch had nearly taken my head off.
If they'd been cultivators — even low-level ones — I'd be dead.
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The system pinged.
> [Combat Assessment: D+]
[Note: Fundamentals solid. Physical strength insufficient. Breathing stability inconsistent under stress. Recommendation: Additional conditioning and controlled combat simulations.]
I stared at the glowing text, then let out a humorless laugh.
"Yeah. No kidding."
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The walk home was quiet.
Every step, every ache, every bruise drove the lesson home:
I wasn't strong yet.
Not strong enough to survive when the real storms came.
Not strong enough to stand toe-to-toe with the monsters this world would throw at me in two years.
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But I'd get there.
I'd have to.
Because if a couple of street thugs could push me to my limits…
…then I didn't stand a chance against what was coming.