Jelo had just fought a couple of people.
Not one.
Not two in a simple sense.
But enough.
Enough to feel the difference.
Enough to understand something had changed—not just in his strength, but in how he approached everything.
His primary aim had been clear from the beginning.
Essence.
That was all he wanted.
Enough essence to trigger a system update. Enough to push himself forward, to force growth, to break past the wall he had been stuck behind.
And he got it.
But that wasn't all he gained.
Somewhere in between the clashes, the exchanges, the moments where he had to react instead of think—he had picked up something else.
Experience.
Real experience.
Not the kind you get from training drills.
Not the kind that comes from controlled sparring.
But the kind that comes from fighting people stronger than you.
People faster than you.
People who don't hold back.
He had seen it clearly.
The way stronger fighters moved.
Not just physically—but mentally.
