It was around 6 PM when I left the track. By now, dinner would be in full swing at the cafeteria, but for some reason, I didn't feel particularly hungry. Maybe it was my new body, different in ways I still didn't fully understand—I hadn't really felt hungry since transmigrating. Either way, I skipped it.
So, where did I end up?
You guessed it—the library, again.
Today, I picked out a mix of books on Combat Basics and Alchemy. I found a quiet corner and lost myself in them for the next two and a half hours. Stances, grips, pressure points. Herbs that healed, herbs that killed, herbs that dulled pain or sharpened focus. Each page pulled me in deeper, and with Immersion, everything seemed to sink into place as if I'd known it all along. In my old world, studying meant repetition until my brain ached. Here, it was like pouring water into a vessel that never spilled.
By the time I was done, I'd absorbed a decent chunk of knowledge. Enough to feel like I wasn't entirely wasting my second chance. I left the library with a strange contentment, almost proud.
Back in my room, it was empty—seems like my roommates were still out, probably hanging with their new friends.
Should I be making friends too?
…Maybe. But I was too tired to think about it.
I collapsed onto my bed, ignored the noise drifting in from outside, and let sleep take me.
The next morning, I woke up at 4:35 AM. I didn't even wash up—just threw on my shorts, shirt, and bands, then headed straight for the field. A few silhouettes were already moving about—about twenty-seven people gathered before the track. At 4:55, we were told to take our positions. Then, at 4:59:56, a countdown began.
3… 2… 1… GO.
The gunshot cracked across the field, and we bolted. My body screamed at me almost immediately. The soreness from yesterday hadn't left. Each stride felt heavier, tighter—but I refused to stop. I kept pushing, gritting my teeth against the burn.
When the signal came—"STOP!"—it was like my strings had been cut. I hit the ground, panting, limbs trembling like a puppet discarded. It took me five full minutes to get back on my feet.
I checked my terminal.
27 km/h average.
Five more than yesterday. And this wasn't pacing—it was my limit. At least now I knew my starting point. A small step forward.
After a quick breakfast at the cafeteria, I returned to the dorm, showered, and went to lectures.
History came first—covering the Age of Enlightenment and The Fall. Then Monsterology and Gates—where we learned how corrupted monsters bred inside ruptures, and why letting a gate linger for more than a few months was a disaster waiting to happen. Apparently, if a gate wasn't closed within five to eight months, the monsters inside spilled into the world. Grim stuff.
Lectures ended, and—as if pulled by gravity—I returned to the library. This time, I dug into books about hand-to-hand combat. Footwork drills, pressure points, momentum transfer, body mechanics. Hours blurred, until I looked up and found it was already 4:30 PM.
I considered heading to mana circulation class… then shook my head. Not today.
Back in the dorm, the room was still empty. My roommates were probably there, working through their struggles. I sat down on my bed, raised my hand, and began.
Refresh.
[-10 MP]
Refresh.
[-10 MP]
Refresh.
[-10 MP]
The ache in my muscles eased, fatigue bleeding away like mist in sunlight. Curious, I tried something different—channeling more mana into the spell. The effect felt… stronger. Clearer. But the numbers didn't match.
[-50 MP]
I frowned. That wasn't right. The cast shouldn't have eaten fifty. Some of it must have slipped away. Mana leakage. Improper control. I made a mental note to attend circulation class tomorrow. No point wasting mana when I barely had enough to begin with.
To test myself further, I dropped down for push-ups. A hundred left my arms useless, so I cycled Refresh again and again until my body held steady, though my mind was foggy. Refresh could clear muscle fatigue, not mental exhaustion.
After a shower, I checked the time. 6 PM. Dinner.
At the cafeteria, I spotted Liam with two other guys—probably his roommates. I joined them, and he introduced me to Taylor and Michael. The conversation was easy, drifting over training, stats, and the usual small talk.
Then Liam tilted his head. "By the way, I haven't seen Miles all day. You?"
"Been busy training," I said. "He's probably wiped out."
"Mind giving me his terminal ID? I want to message him."
I froze for a second.
Right. I hadn't exchanged IDs with any of my roommates yet.
"You don't have it?" Liam asked, surprised.
I chuckled. "Guess I don't. We'll fix that tonight."
He sent me his ID, and I promised to pass it on to Miles. Afterward, we split up, and I headed back to the dorm.