2025-12-10 20:33:18
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A Lesson He Couldn’t Forget
Arman looked straight at Jim, his expression calm and steady. There was no arrogance in his eyes, no excitement either—only quiet certainty.“We will see,” Arman said evenly, his voice carrying clearly through the training ground. “Who trains whom.”For a brief moment, Jim didn’t react. His body remained still, as if he was measuring Arman. Then his expression changed. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and something ugly surfaced inside him.Anger came first, sharp and immediate.But beneath that anger lived something deeper—hatred.Not the loud, reckless kind, but the kind that sat silently, waiting for the right moment to strike.Kenny stepped closer to Arman and spoke in a low voice, careful that Jim wouldn’t hear him clearly. “Arman, you really don’t have to fight him. You can refuse. No one will think less of you.”Instructor Lira nodded in agreement. “Yes, Arman. If you don’t want to accept this match, you can—”“No.”Arman cut her off before she could finish the sentence.T
Let’s See Who Trains Whom
The training ground was loud with footsteps and breath.Dust rose constantly as students moved, sparred, fell, and got back up again. Shouts echoed across the field, mixed with the dull thud of fists hitting arms, elbows crashing into guards, and shoes scraping against sand.Some rookies were already panting.Some had bruises forming.Some were still trying to understand how their bodies moved.Arman stood still for a moment.His eyes were locked on Kenny.Kenny rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and grinned like he was enjoying himself a little too much.“Alright, rival,” he said. “Let’s see what you learned.”Arman didn’t answer.He shifted his stance slightly. Left foot forward. Weight light. Hands relaxed.Then—He suddenly sprinted forward.Fast.Direct.No wasted movement.Kenny reacted instantly. His arms came up, elbows tight, reading Arman’s shoulder movement.Arman’s right fist shot forward.Kenny moved to block——but the punch stopped halfway.A fake.Before Kenny’s br
A Warning and a Lesson
Kenny walked up to Arman the moment Jim left the classroom. His grin was wide, but his eyes showed a little worry.“Yo bro,” Kenny said, slapping Arman’s shoulder. “That… that was something else.”Arman blinked. “Hm? Why? Is everyone acting like it’s a big deal?”Kenny stared at him like Arman had asked why the sky is blue.“YES, it’s a big deal! That was Jim you stopped! He isn’t just some loudmouth. That guy is one of the strongest in the second years.”Arman raised an eyebrow. “And?”Kenny pointed at Ron, who was sitting quietly, holding his bag tight to his chest.“You know that boy? Ron? Jim’s servants work for Jim’s family. Ron is the servant’s kid. Jim despises that someone weaker than him has power over him in any form. So he bullies Ron to feel big.”Arman looked at Ron again. The small boy was wiping his glasses, trying to hide the redness in his eyes.“I couldn’t care less,” Arman said calmly. “Wrong is wrong.”Kenny nodded. “Well said, bro. But listen— you gotta be careful
The First Conflict
Instructor Lira left the classroom, and as soon as the door closed, everyone let out a breath they had been holding.Kenny leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Damn… she’s intense. I kinda like it.”Arman smirked. “You would.”They were talking quietly when the classroom door suddenly slammed open so hard that half the class jumped.Three boys walked in.The one in the middle stood out instantly — green spiky hair, sharp eyes, a smirk that screamed trouble.The other two flanked him like bodyguards. They looked like twins, almost identical, except one had black hair and the other had brown. Both were tall, muscular, and walked with heavy steps.The class went silent.Nobody said anything.The green-haired boy scanned the room slowly… like he owned it.Then he spotted someone at the back.A small boy.Thin arms. Small frame. Weak posture. Big round glasses. His uniform looked slightly oversized.He sat alone near the window, holding a notebook to his chest like a shield.Arman look
First Day in Class
“All rookies, attention.”The gray-haired instructor stepped forward. Everyone went silent. The cafeteria still smelled like fear and sweat. Arman stood straight, breathing slowly, feeling his heart calm down.“Out of sixty rookies,” the instructor said loudly,“forty-two survived. Eighteen were eliminated. Fourteen had their badges changed.”He paused, letting the numbers hit.“Good. Those who remain are the ones this academy can shape.”A low murmur began in the room. Some rookies sighed in relief. Some looked proud. Some looked scared because they realized barely surviving was still surviving.Arman only nodded. He understood what it meant. He survived… but there was a difference between surviving and winning.The instructors dismissed everyone, telling them to go rest.Arman walked back to his quarters slowly. His legs felt heavy. His mind was replaying every move from the test. Every dodge. Every scream. Every flicker of a badge.Inside the room, he collapsed onto the bed he woke
Nightfall / The Test Ends
The cafeteria was eerily quiet now. The chaos had reached a climax, and Arman crouched behind a toppled table, chest heaving, sweat streaming down his face. The last red badge rookie had lunged at someone across the room, but the strike was deflected by a quick dodge. For a moment, it seemed as if the chaos might never end.Then, slowly, the lights flickered. The deep reds and bright blues of the badges dimmed. The fluorescent glow that had pulsed across the cafeteria for what felt like hours began to fade.Arman exhaled, letting his body relax just slightly. The pulse of Void energy in the room died down, leaving a tense silence. Around him, rookies cautiously peeked from behind overturned chairs and tables. Some had badges flickering weakly; others had changed colors permanently. A few were gone — eliminated.“Status?” Ievon asked calmly.Arman scanned the room. “Most of the rookies are still standing. Several eliminated. A few switched.”He nodded to himself. Every move, every dodg
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