Just like that, it became routine.
During the day, Yurei and Marian trained the women of the Delinquent Base while their slaves trained Hiro. Breakfast in the morning. Broken bones in the afternoon. Recovery in the evening. Then quiet moments with Yurei, the chain tattoo glowing softly in the dark.
This was their life for the next two weeks.
---
The first week, the mornings were the worst. Hiro would drag himself out of bed, his body still screaming from the previous day's beatings, and stumble to the mess hall. The food was simple—rice, eggs, mushrooms sometimes fish but it was hot and plentiful. After a few days, he learned to eat quickly before his stomach realized what was coming.
His training wasn't about learning flashy new techniques. Instead, he chose to refine what he already had. Severing Claw became sharper, faster, more precise.
His flares burned hotter. His tails moved with a coordination that surprised even him.
Foundation first, he told himself. The rest will come.
And it worked. His beast form felt more stable, more responsive. The chain tattoo pulsed less urgently when he transformed. He was growing—not just in power, but in control.
---
Yurei changed her approach with Beatrice's unit. She wasn't completely demolishing them anymore though she still could, and they all knew it. Instead, she focused on fundamentals. Stances. Breathing. The subtle shifts of weight that meant the difference between a punch that landed and a punch that was dodged.
Beatrice absorbed the lessons like a sponge. Her form improved. Her footwork sharpened. Her blessing—"Brute," a simple name for a simple power had a restriction: it only increased her stats by ten percent. A pittance compared to what some blessings could do.
But after Yurei's training? Twenty-five percent. Still not overwhelming but enough to feel the difference.
Sally showed improvement too. Her blessing was subtle—levitation, the ability to float for short periods—but she'd relied on it too heavily, using it as a crutch rather than a tool. Yurei taught her to conserve her Aether, to strike only when necessary, to let opponents tire themselves out before she moved in.
Felicia and Ramona still struggled with pushups, but they complained less. Progress, of a sort.
---
But Yurei didn't just train their bodies. She also taught Beatrice administrative work—how to review records, how to file reports, how to navigate the bureaucracy that kept the Imperial Army running.
Beatrice hated every moment of it.
"This is pointless," she grumbled, staring at a stack of paperwork.
"This is how you get funding," Yurei replied without looking up. "No funding, no supplies. No supplies, no soldiers. No soldiers, no base."
"We survived before."
"Barely."
Beatrice couldn't argue with that.
---
A heated argument broke out on the third day.
Yurei suggested remodeling the base—making it more professional, more standard, more like other Imperial installations.
The response was immediate and unanimous.
"No."
"You can't."
"This is our home."
Yurei looked around the room—at the graffiti-covered walls, the flickering lights, the worn furniture. "It's a prison."
"It's our prison," Beatrice said, crossing her arms. "We built it. We painted it. We bled on these floors. We're not changing it."
Yurei studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine."
The base stayed the same.
---
By the second week, Marian noticed something. Beatrice's unit was becoming dependent on having two instructors—watching Marian for approval before following Yurei's commands. It was stifling their growth.
So she excused herself from the group sessions.
"You've got this, Captain," Marian said. "They need to learn from you. Not from both of us."
Yurei raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
Meanwhile, Scott and the other beast slaves had whipped Hiro into shape. The process of breaking and repairing his body had made him sturdier, more robust. He was still lean—no one would mistake him for a brawler but his shoulders had broadened, his arms carried definition where there had been none. The chain tattoo settled more comfortably against his skin.
With Marian free from training the unit, she switched to training Hiro directly in fighting skills and tactics.
---
Hiro stood across from Marian in the training yard. She wore a sports top and track bottoms, her usual grin replaced by something sharper.
"Now, Hiro. You fought Scott last week. What are your thoughts?"
"I got lucky."
Even he knew the truth. He had barely won. In an all-out fight, Scott would have wiped the floor with him.
"Good answer." Marian nodded. "But that's not the only lesson."
"Right. Class and type don't determine strength."
"Right again." She tilted her head. "So what does determine strength?"
"Experience?"
"Somewhere correct." Her voice softened. "In the Urahame family, we say relying on physical strength is foolishness. Only cunning and wit can truly save your life."
She stepped closer.
"One day you'll encounter a superior opponent who outclasses you in every regard. Will you pathetically surrender or fight a meaningless battle?"
"I would fight!"
Of course you would, you hero idiot Marian thought.
"Wrong answer." Her eyes hardened. "You're supposed to surrender. Life isn't an anime where you'll just awaken some hidden power and overcome your opponent."
Hiro thought of the crimson door inside him, but said nothing. He couldn't depend on that. The door wasn't a tool—it was a warning.
"So," Marian continued, "do you know what you did wrong against Scott?"
"Well… I—"
"You could have finished that fight in two moves."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously." She held up two fingers. "First, that Spirit Pressure move of yours to immobilize him. Then—bam—claw to the face. Fight over."
Hiro's mouth opened, then closed.
"But instead, you prolonged the fight. You put yourself at a massive disadvantage."
"You're right."
"I know." Marian cracked her knuckles. "While Yurei teaches you martial arts, I'll teach you cunning and trickery. You'll finally learn to fight like a real fox."
She dropped into a stance.
"Let's begin."
Before Hiro could react, Marian was already in front of him, her fist chambered.
"Wait, I haven't—"
*BAM! *
He flew backward, crashing into a decorative stone pillar. Rubble cascaded down, covering him completely only his feet remained visible.
"Shit, he's down," Marian muttered, walking toward the rubble. "I thought that overgrown monkey was doing his body tempering training although his body was starting to look grea— ,gosh what am I killing".
Still looking the rubble "Captain's gonna kill me."
*BANG! *
A hand shot up from the rubble like a zombie from an old movie.
"Oh, good. You're okay."
"Mhm… I'm okay."
"Great." Marian's grin returned. "That means I can continue."
"Wai—"
*BANG. *
---
For the next five hours, Marian taught Hiro how to use his newly conditioned body properly and how to strategize in a fight.
According to her, martial arts proficiency was divided into stages:
Amateur - Learning the basics
Beginner - Consistent execution
Adept - Fluid adaptation
Expert - Near-instinctive response
Master - Teaching others
Grandmaster - Creating new techniques
Sage - Transcending technique itself
Hiro was mid-Amateur.
Scott and the other slaves? Top to peak Adept.
He really had been lucky.
---
Naturally, a few Gates appeared during their stay—nothing major. Blue Gates, releasing only Class 1 and Class 2 Abyssals. The kind experienced soldiers could handle in their sleep.
But for the trainees, they were valuable experience.
Hiro joined the sorties alongside Beatrice's unit. At one point, an Abyssal flanked him. He didn't see it coming.
Beatrice did. Her fist caved in the creature's skull before it could reach him. She didn't say anything just grunted and moved on.
But after that, she started watching his back.
His teamwork improved. He learned to anticipate Beatrice's movements, to cover Sally's blind spots, to trust Felicia and Ramona. When the Gates closed, they returned to base covered in Abyssal ichor, exhausted but satisfied.
By the fifth day, the smell of sweat and Abyssal ash had soaked into his clothes. He didn't notice anymore.
---
At the same time, Yurei was properly bonding with the unit. She ate meals with them. Listened to their stories. Learned the names of the cooks, the cleaners, the utility staff. She wasn't as close to them as Marian probably never would be but she was no longer an outsider.
Hiro became close with the core fighters. Beatrice, despite her gruff exterior, had a dry sense of humor that caught him off guard. Sally, once she stopped being terrified of Yurei, turned out to be surprisingly warm. Felicia and Ramona were inseparable like siblings who had survived the same wars.
And Scott was still giving him grief about the tail bite.
"You bit my tail," Scott said for the tenth time.
"You tried to crush my skull," Hiro replied.
"Fair point."
---
By the end of the second week, the Delinquent Base felt less like a prison. Not home—not yet—but something.
When Yurei announced they would be leaving soon after conducting a final test inorder to measure their full growth, Hiro felt a surprising pang of regret about their eventual departure.
"Next base," Yurei said, "will be harder."
Hiro nodded. "I know."
He looked back at the graffiti-covered walls, the cracked courtyard, the soldiers who had once been criminals. They weren't fixed, not completely but they were on their way.
That was enough.
For now.