Waking up hurt. Even breathing hurt. I was back in the tank, my injuries and pain rapidly dissipating like evaporating water. I’d failed. Well, was there even any chance of success? I should be happy Master had brought me back to the tank. That last blow… I’m pretty sure it completely destroyed my entire arm.

  I sighed.

  It’s not like I thought I had become super powerful or anything. No matter how hard I worked out, I knew how far I had to go. But still… two heavy losses in the same day wasn’t exactly great. This Mutai was more so punching bag than any kind of fierce warrior…

  I took a moment just to breathe, even if it was breath filled with life saving water. In here was the only time I got to relax really. And it felt like I’d been doing nothing but constantly moving since… for a very, very long time. From the moment I got out of the sewers, all levity and relaxation had seemed to vanish.

  From spending my days training till I bled, to Vincent showing up and showing just how much blood, sweat, and tears I had to go. To finally getting worthy enough in strength to be able to just barely, maybe, learn Master’s martial arts and then getting absolutely destroyed by my fellow training partner and then my Master. How long has it been this time? How long has it been since I simply sat down and did something that wasn’t fighting, training, or trying to survive?

  And yet… I felt…

  ‘So Happy.’

  It didn’t make any sense but my heart beat like a drum. I could feel a smile growing on my face. Something was becoming wrong with me, I could tell, but facts were eating at my mind.

  I stayed ahead of Vincent, the whole way through. All the way till he beat my ass, I stayed ahead of him. I pushed myself harder and overall, I came out the winner. If our training in physique was a competition, I had just barely won. That sense of victory was, amazing. But that paled compared to the next parts.

  Fighting Vincent.

  I hadn’t had time before to take it in, but he was amazing. He didn’t need any practical insertions of needing power, his rage and hatred were what carried him. Combined with his past training and learning of martial arts from his family that still carried over… it was unlike anything I’d ever fought before. The closest would be the turtles but it was different. The turtles had also definitely trained, to a higher degree than almost anyone I knew in terms of technique and skill, but Vincent was just simply more. He followed a style, had precise footwork, and was at a level I could barely understand. It felt like just fighting him once was worth a million battles with all the ideas he had given me.

  And fighting Master…

  I was in awe. He moved so fast and hit so hard but that wasn’t all. That was something any beast could do. No, what made me stare at him like a devilish god was how he moved. I caught snippets of it and his hits were… perfect. They were utterly perfect. His every muscle, his every movement, his every footstep and reaction. Even from simple movements, it was clear. He had forgotten a hundred times more about martial arts than I had ever known.

  I could feel my mind practically crashing just trying to understand him. Even now, moments after being crushed, I could feel it. Just how… awful I fought. Just how terrible. It wasn’t just a matter of power, I had barely controlled my body at all. Had barely messed with my breathing, my stance, and, hell, even my ‘aura’ or how I held myself was all just, wrong. It was like I had unknowingly taken a very, very long test and got almost all the answers wrong.

  It was humbling, it was amazing, and it made me so utterly happy for some strange reason. Despite not relaxing for what felt like forever… I didn’t want to. No, maybe, it was more right to say I absolutely desired nothing more than one thing.

  I wanted to fight again and again.

  It was almost more intoxicating than when I’d gained my first increase in power level. This wasn’t simply an increase in my strength, speed, or durability. This wasn’t represented with any kind of numerical numbers, but it felt like it meant all the more for that. Because of that. Master had said that it was difficult for those weaker to beat those stronger and I was finally truly feeling out why that was. But with strength and technique, the amount of difference you could win against grew. I’d won against stronger foes before, but this was, unlike anything I’d found in the sewer except for Ragual. How high could I reach? How much could technique and skill alone bridge the gap? What about combined with a higher power? With both…

  I wanted to keep going and going, to fight all sorts, to feel myself improve more and more.

  What even was this? When did I become such a, such a battle maniac? But something was just, it felt, right. Like I was expanding, growing, that I was becoming better, ascending. I could feel it, tell it. I knew more. I could fight better and better. I felt great! I could win! It sent a thrill up my spine, the idea of fighting thousands of different opponents and improving and improving after each and every one. I could finally see it, why so many people loved fighting others. It wasn’t simply about them, it was about cultivating your own self higher in all ways. Constant improvement, constant learning, constant lessons. Becoming more of who you are. No, a better version! Like, like evolution.

  There were no words but by the time I got out of the tank, I knew one thing for certain.

  I wanted to fight more and more!

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  To grow!

  To see just what kind of heights I could achieve!

  *****

  Wishes were rarely granted and even less with good intentions…

  “You both suck.”

  The moment the tank opened, those were the words hitting my ears. I hadn’t even noticed Master standing there beyond the glass. Maybe he hadn’t been. Before either me or Vincent could put on our clothes or look at each other, let alone get a word in edgewise, Master was ranting at us.

  “No, like, truly. You both are terrible. Vincent, you went down in one blow. A single damn blow. That’s just… ugh. I’m not gonna be as nice the second time around. If you don’t take this seriously again, I promise you, you will die.”

  “I-”

  “And you.” He said, before turning to me.

  “What are you doing?”

  Uhh, what?

  “I, uhh-”

  “You’re all over the place. There’s hints of different ideas all around you, like you’re trying to combine a bunch of different things together. More annoyingly, it seems to be working. But that’s no way to learn. I train body and then skills but clearly, that was a mistake with you. You don’t have any of the basics down at all and you’re trying to pull off things you have no right trying. It’s no wonder you used Ki so early with that kind of mindset. You’re going to become nothing but a mess of a martial artist at this rate. From now on, I want you to copy my moves exactly when we fight.”

  “But Master I-”

  “You better have some very good words about to come out of your mouth.”

  Oh. Master was angry. Oh shit. Oh fuck. I quickly changed my words and then changed them again. I’d rarely seen Master angry and I didn’t want to see what he’d do in anger after I’d felt what he’d done calmly.

  “...How am I supposed to know how to dodge and maneuver if I’m just trying to copy you?”

  There was more to fighting than just attacking. A ton more. If Master really wanted me to stop trying to adjust with my past information… sure. But if we were going to fight again, I wouldn’t have the time to learn those things. It wasn’t like Master was going to go on the defensive-

  “I’ll go on the defensive, with blocks, dodges, and more. That was the intention anyway. You both need to learn all of the Demon Style, so pay attention next time. Especially to my footwork, if you can see it. Now, come on.”

  He gestured to our clothes, fresh and new. Did he just have a ton of these weighted clothes around? All in our size? How many warehouses did he own for that to be possible? How many were we going to destroy in the name of training? Did he have dedicated cleaning staff or was this another form of Ki techniques?

  I shook off my empty headed thoughts and began to move to our clothes.

  “Wait.” Came a voice.

  I turned to see Vincent looking surprised and shocked.

  “What are… what are you two… Are we going to fight again? Right now?”

  He stared at Master, as if in horror.

  “Of course.” Master said, looking slightly dumbfounded. “Did you think yourself a God, able to learn my whole style in one fight against me?”

  “No, not that, I mean. You…” Vincent looked like he was on the verge of going insane. “Are you going to take it easier on us from now on?”

  “No? Of course not.”

  “We… We just got out of the tank. Out of healing nearly life threatening injuries because of you. And we’re just going to, go back to fighting against you, right away? No teaching, no taking time to learn anything? No mediating? Just another deadly fight?”

  “See Mutai, this is why you at least have perseverance going for you. It took you far longer to ask these really stupid questions and try to give up.”

  “I’m not giving up!” Vincent seemed to practically ignite at those words. “I just don’t understand! When are we going to meditate on your teachings?!”

  “When you’re in the tank.”

  “And when are we going to rest?!”

  “When you’re in the tank.”

  “And… what about…” Vincent seemed to be grasping at straws. “What about food?”

  I perked up at that, staring at Master.

  He snorted.

  “Fine, one meal, lunch. The rest is going to be syringe nutrition to be that lazy. We have a whole lot of work to do.”

  I nodded. It was awful, terrible, and going to be absolutely brutal. But at least I’d have one meal. Even that much felt like a grace from god considering how angry Master seemed to be at our earlier performance.

  “That… Mutai, this is insane. Even more than our last form of training. We could really die.”

  I scratched my cheek, not knowing what to say.

  Wait, yes I did.

  “But it works.”

  Vincent seemed to shut up at that. Yes, it was awful and brutal. The first three weeks I’d trained under him had been almost harder than the sewers. But there was a reason I let this insane bastard train me even after nearly getting me killed so many times. It worked. My power level was approaching heights I’d never imagined, I was finally learning how to fight properly, and eventually, Master would even teach me how to use Ki.

  It was working.

  Vincent knew that. He could feel that. How long must he have trained, only to suddenly grow to nearly twice the power level he’d entered the city at? Even I knew that wasn’t normal. There was no way he’d chosen to stay at [10] all his life. Master’s training was just that damn effective.

  “You’re both insane.”

  “That’s the spirit.” I said, as Master continued walking away. “Now, let’s hurry up and start.”

  ******

  Two minutes later.

  As I struggled to stay conscious, both my arms broken and my jaw shattered, I realized my folly.

  I should have never wished to fight more.

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