I didn't wake up until late in the afternoon. I looked at my smartphone and saw that it was 4 PM. I went to the bathroom and took a fast, scalding shower. Sitting on the edge of my massive king-sized bed with a towel around my waist, water still dripping from my overly long hair, I started thinking about the absolute chaos of last night.
There were definite highlights—like the intense kissing session with Chloe and meeting Stella—but there were also glaringly obvious problems. Like Luke, his terrifying father Atticus, and Chloe's father, Thorn Crimson.
Sure, Thorn vaporizing my heart was incredibly efficient and entirely painless, but it brutally highlighted a depressing fact: my base stats were monstrous, but I had absolutely zero technique. I was a brawler swinging wildly in a city full of ancient, refined predators. Even Chloe and Stella were freakishly powerful, let alone their old-as-dirt fathers.
With each upgrade, I was getting exponentially stronger. Soon, my raw power would be enough to comfortably clash against them. But I had noticed yesterday that raw power was practically useless if I couldn't hit my target or defend properly. I didn't have a systematic combat system allowing me to put these newly upgraded muscles to use.
Having come to a conclusion, I decided to find the absolute best martial arts instructors in Nebula City. I walked into my sprawling walk-in closet and bypassed my old, trashy clothes, throwing on some high-end, designer athletic wear I had bought during my recent unhinged billionaire shopping spree. I grabbed my keys, headed down to the private garage, and hopped into my luxurious, jet-black sports car.
I drove to a highly exclusive, elite combat facility situated in the upper-class Cultural District. Walking through the pristine glass doors, I went to the reception to inquire about hiring private masters.
These days, I had been hanging out exclusively with supernaturals—beings who naturally possessed flawless features—so I had somewhat forgotten the devastating effect my upgraded appearance had on normal humans. My charm had reached an inhuman level. The receptionist was completely dazed, her face flushed crimson as she fumbled over her words. She was clearly deeply affected by me. I couldn't blame her, though; after my last resurrection, I had surpassed standard supermodel territory and entered the realm of otherworldly, vampire-level beauty.
Acting as if I didn't notice her flustered state, I patiently listened as she listed the available private instructors.
There were grandmasters in Karate, Kickboxing, classic boxing, Kendo, and a lot more. I simply handed her my black card and booked the top experts in Karate, Kickboxing, and Kendo for a solid month of intensive, one-on-one training. I thought it would take me a lot of time to learn, but I had vastly underestimated my newly upgraded brain and supernatural muscle memory.
After two weeks of training every single day from morning to evening, I had reached a staggering level of proficiency in all three disciplines, completely shocking my highly-paid instructors. It got to the point where they were looking at me like I was a literal monster. After one month, I could effortlessly go toe-to-toe with the black belt karate master, the kickboxing champion, and the kendo grandmaster, earning their absolute, terrified admiration.
Every day I was getting hit on by the female staff and the few elite clients frequenting the center; my appearance plus my lethal combat prowess made them crazy for me. I practically had to dodge their advances like I was dodging punches.
I had reached a level where I could use every single part of my body with maximum, deadly efficiency. I had become a living weapon, and now I was finally ready to face my enemies.
BANG.
The heavy training dummy was sent flying across the private room, crashing into the mirrored wall in a poor state. I had seamlessly mixed the martial arts together, creating a tailored, brutal combat system for myself that allowed me to exploit my superhuman physical fitness to the absolute limit.
As I was wiping my sweaty face with a towel, my phone rang. I picked it up. It was Stella.
Over the past month since the birthday party, Chloe, Stella, and I had spent a lot of time together. Eating dinner, going to exclusive clubs, and just hanging out. We had formed a truly weird crew rarely seen in the supernatural world: a vampire heiress, a half-demon succubus, and an unkillable glitch (me).
"Sup," I answered.
"Cool, and you?" Stella's bubbly voice chimed.
"I am bored, what are you doing?"
"Still at the training center."
You couldn't really blame her for being bored. Unless she was with Chloe, she was basically on house arrest thanks to that bastard Atticus. And currently, Chloe was out of the city, visiting a branch of the Crimson clan in another state.
"Ah, yes. I was actually calling to tell you to be careful," she suddenly said, her tone dropping its playful edge.
I frowned, wiping the sweat from my neck. "Luke?"
"Yes. I don't know exactly what he's planning, but it seems highly nefarious. He's been getting frantic lately, ever since he learned about your continued existence and your 'relationship' with Chloe."
I stayed silent, reflecting on the warning. I wasn't afraid, though. Not only could he not kill me permanently, but now, I could actually fight back.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
"Anytime," her sweet laugh echoed on the other side of the line. "Are you free two days from now?" she asked suddenly.
"Yeah, why?"
"Let's go on a date!"
"Huh?" I answered, entirely caught off guard.
"It's a date then!" she declared cheerfully, capitalizing on my distraction before immediately hanging up.
"This girl..." I muttered, staring at my phone screen.
With a sigh, I grabbed my gym bag and got back to my workout. It wasn't anything new, getting pushed around by these impossibly strong women.
After two more hours, I hit the showers and walked out of the building around 8 PM. I headed to the private parking lot, hopped into my sports car, and started the drive home.
As I neared my apartment on a particularly quiet, deserted street, a series of dark shadows suddenly blurred into the road directly in front of my car. I instinctively slammed on the brakes, swerving hard to the right to avoid a collision. The tires screeched violently, and the car skidded, stopping just inches from a brick wall.
I let out a tense breath, incredibly relieved to see my precious baby didn't get scratched.
But before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt to yell at whatever idiot was playing in traffic, a deafening BANG resonated through the deserted street.
A heavy body had just crashed directly onto the hood of my car, crushing the pristine black metal inward with a sickening crunch.
My heart absolutely shattered at the state of my expensive car. The rage that instantly boiled up inside me was blinding.
The assholes, completely oblivious to my murderous fury, approached the car from all sides. They had a distinct, terrifyingly animalistic characteristic about them. It was the way they moved—silently, low to the ground, like apex predators.
They closed in on me as I kicked my door open and stepped out. Not thinking twice about my apparent lack of fear, one of them pounced toward me. His fingers elongated into razor-sharp claws, his face contorting into a ferocious, beastly expression, and his eyes glowing a feral, sickly yellow.
Before his claws could even graze my clothes, I moved.
One second I was standing by the ruined door; the next, I completely disappeared from his line of sight. In a literal flash, I materialized directly behind him. I whipped my leg in a brutal, perfect arc, catching him squarely in the back of the head.
A sickening crunch echoed in the quiet street as his skull caved in. He hit the asphalt like a sack of bricks and didn't twitch again.
I slowly turned my head, cracking my knuckles, and looked at the rest of the pack with an absolutely freezing, murderous glare.
"Who's next?"