The hyperactive kids had worn me out completely. I shouldn’t have agreed to play right after that grueling training session. But at least I picked up some valuable information about this world—and its martial arts—that wasn’t in my fragmented memories.

  We settled down for a moment, catching our breath. Su Yan, surprisingly sharp despite her tough attitude, was the first to speak.

  “Did you know,” she said, “there was a huge war between gods in the ancient times? It broke everything—government, order—all gone. People had to fend for themselves, migrate in massive groups. That’s why you see so many different cultures and races mixed together now.”

  Jaylen chimed in, “Man, it’s wild. They taught us 'bout it in class a week back or so, but callin’ it the ‘War of Gods’? That sound way too dramatic.”

  I nodded, trying to take it all in. “What about martial arts? How do people get strong?”

  Theo, always eager to show off what he knew, grinned. “You gotta sense your blood qi first—that’s what makes you a Junior Martial Artist, and gives an edge over ordinary people. Before that you are just a trainee. ”

  Su Yan jumped in. “And then there are the Ancestor-level fighters. They say some of them can slice a hill the size of Whispering Hill in half.”

  “Sounds like a tall tale,” I said skeptically.

  “Maybe,” Jaylen shrugged, “but you know how it is—most exaggerations got a lil’ truth tucked in somewhere.”

  Their stories painted a vivid picture of a fractured world where strength and skill alone can make a normal human a walking nuclear bomb—upending the common sense I had cultivated on Earth. It was a knowledge I would have to relearn if I hoped to survive here.

  "So when do I start sensing the blood qi? Is there a special requirement?" I asked.

  Su Yan leaned in, her eyes glinting with a mix of pride and mischief. “Normally, kids start sensing their qi around age ten from just daily training. But the real geniuses? They pick it up way faster.”

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “There are even special medicines made from monster parts that can speed up the whole process—kind of like a shortcut.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Jaylen nodded eagerly.“Yeah, those meds ain’t easy to come by. Real rare and cost a grip—most folks don’t even get the chance to try ‘em.”

  Theo added quietly, “But some say relying too much on those can backfire. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows.”

  “You should ask the second-year students,” Su Yan suggested. “They’ve been through the process themselves. Or just ask Teacher Arnold—he’s strict, but he always answers any doubts.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, feeling grateful. With that, I called it a day and, starving, shoved the flavorless food into my mouth like a zombie, eager to finally sleep like a log.

  The next day began as usual—four hours of class, followed by extra training, playing with the gremlins, and eating plenty to “fatten up,” all while bickering with Dong Da. Then came more personal training. It was a peaceful routine. Just like that, a month passed, and once again, it was time for Arnold’s class.

  I looked a lot different from when I first ended up in Evan’s body. It had only been a month, but intense training and devouring food like a starving beast had made a visible difference. Where I was once thin and frail, now I was… slightly muscular and still weak. Progress?

  Despite my gains, I couldn’t win a single sparring match—not even against the so-called “gremlins.” Su Yan and her duo regularly wiped the floor with me, like it was some daily ritual. Honestly, if there was a trophy for “Most Improved Punching Bag,” I’d be a strong contender. Guess I need to increase my training more to catch up.

  Lately, I’ve noticed Teacher Arnold watching me more closely. His quiet scrutiny pushed me to refine my discipline and technique. He truly is the kind of mentor anyone would be fortunate to have - demanding, yet fair.

  “I’m not as worn out today,” I mused. “Guess that means more time to get tossed around by the gremlins.”

  "Evans Wilhelm." Arnold says with the same monotonous voice.

  “Uh, sir! Yes, sir! I mean… how can I help you?” I blurted out, caught off guard by Arnold suddenly calling my name.

  “You’re getting better… Keep at it.” he says with that quiet, gritty intensity—like a compliment and a warning rolled into one.

  "You could’ve just said it normally… Do you enjoy scaring kids for fun?" I muttered under my breath after getting far away, half annoyed, half happy from the compliment.

  Just as I was about to make my smooth escape, I glanced back—only to find Arnold staring at me with a strange expression.

  Why is he looking at me like that?

  Oh no!

  Did he hear my muttering?

  He did not right?

  He's still staring...

  Yep. I’m done for.

  Goodbye, everyone. If I wake up in another world tomorrow, you’ll know why.