"Haa… haa…"
In the academy training facility, a white-haired youth suddenly fell on the ground, panting heavily.
Thud!
Zeke's skin had turned red from his training, steam coming out of his body. His heart raced like he was about to die, and his muscles throbbed so loud that he could feel each and every one of them, a sharp pain coursing along each beat.
But despite all that, his gaze was exceptionally clear.
—
Name: Zeke Crimson
Age: 16
Class: Stick Master (Gray 37/100), Gamer (Black 0/100,000)
Rank: Initiate 1.1
Striking Force: 599 kg
Speed: 19 m/s
Spirit Force: 0
Echoforce: 10
Skills: Stick Manifestation (Active 37/100), Stick Skill (Passive 37/100), Gamer Proficiency (Passive 0/10,000), Gamer Attributes (Passive 0/10,000), Gamer Growth (Passive 0/10,000), Gamer Overload (Active 0/10,000)
—
Zeke had managed to train 4 hours without stopping, swinging his stick like a madman.
By the end of it, he had forgotten to keep track of how many swings he had made, his mind fully concentrated on his stick at hand. It was probably thousands, he was certain of that at least.
If he could, he wanted to push himself even further, but humans were ultimately creatures with limits. He was already feeling pain by the second hour, and by the third hour, he was starting to see apparitions. But he still forced himself to swing, wanting to see where his limits lay.
As a result, his body collapsed by itself. Zeke took note that his limit was four hours of non-stop training, any more than that was impossible. His proficiency points increased from 17 to 37, more than double.
He confirmed that every 10-point milestone increased the required number of swings by 50 to gain another point. By the 30-point range, he needed 200 proper swings to gain a single proficiency point.
However, as his proficiency increased, the easier it became to execute a proper swing. He calculated the time required to execute a proper swing with his current proficiency, and the time it took shortened to 1.5 seconds, cutting his original time by half.
Considering all that, Zeke realized that it was better if his training was spread apart in the day, rather than a single intense session.
The increase of his skill proficiency in Stick Manifestation and Stick Skill also improved his current stick-swinging speed and power. Increasing Stick Manifestation made his stick sharper, while Stick Skill helped him become more skilled in stick swinging.
Zeke could estimate that if he were a level 1 Stick Master before then he was now a level 20 Stick Grandmaster. For a gray-quality class with absolutely abysmal potential and power, he was already doing very well, but of course he's still inferior to someone with a green-quality class.
Other than that, his striking force and speed also increased slightly from his relentless training.
Summarizing all his progress, Zeke gained a lot this time, and he had a lot of new ideas for his future training. But his body was also equally spent. This was likely the last time he'll ever be doing a training session so intense that his body turned into a steam machine.
Zeke quietly closed the panel, having recovered some of his energy. He looked around the facility and saw no one else. It was already 6:50 PM. All the students had already left the campus before evening arrived, and he was the only one who remained in the training facility at this time.
He tried to stand up, but his expression immediately changed, falling back on the ground.
"Ow!"
Zeke winced in pain, unable to move his body. His muscles were so sore that merely attempting to stand up sent a tearing sensation across his body. In short, he couldn't move in the slightest.
"Damn it. Good thing no one is here."
He muttered out loud. He examined his own body and his expression turned grim. A quick estimation told him that he would only be able to move after a couple of hours, before then, he'd have to lie on the floor, waiting for his body to recover to a functioning state.
Thankfully, the Herta Rankers Academy closed at 11:00 PM. There were still a few hours before then, enough for him to restore some energy. His only problem was if someone entered the facility while he was lying on the floor.
Now, that would truly be shameful.
'So be it.'
Zeke closed his eyes as he thought of this, letting his body and mind relax.
Two hours quickly passed.
Luckily, no one entered the training facility during this time.
Zeke's heart calmed down, and he could finally muster some strength. But his muscles were still extremely sore, something that wouldn't heal in a day or two. He winced in pain as he pushed his body upwards, barely managing to stand up.
'Maybe I should've thought more before doing this…'
Zeke pursed his lips, holding his right shoulder. He shook his head as he dragged his body away. The more his body hurt, the more he was regretting training so foolishly.
He stepped outside the training facility, but then a flashlight suddenly blinded his eyes. Zeke was startled, stumbling back as he fell to the ground, wincing in pain once more. His eyes turned alert as he saw a shadow appear.
A familiar voice echoed in the darkness.
"You."
The shadow, Professor Xavier, stared down at him with a stern expression.
"What are you doing…"
But he suddenly paused, seeing Zeke's state. Recalling where the kid had just come out, he inferred the whole situation immediately.
"...!"
Xavier's eyes widened in surprise. He looked at Zeke as a complex feeling rose in him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but hesitation flashed in his eyes at the last moment, ultimately stopping him from continuing.
'... Forget it.'
"Who are you? The flashlight, turn it off! Don't point it at my face…"
Zeke suddenly shouted irritably. He couldn't see who the person was because the flashlight was being pointed directly at him.
Xavier realized what he was doing and turned the flashlight off, looking at Zeke strangely.
"..."
"Tsk. You…"
Finally being able to see clearly, Zeke clicked his tongue. He raised his head and suddenly fell silent. The words he wanted to say were pushed back in his throat. The person turned out to be somebody he knew.
"... Professor Xavier."
He cleared his throat, greeting him dryly.
However, Xavier's expression was indifferent. He turned around and sighed. "Go home quickly. It's dangerous at night."
Zeke fell silent, forgetting about what happened as well. He nodded, "... I understand."
After saying what he wanted to say, Professor Xavier left the training facility, patrolling elsewhere. Among the people Zeke met in his life, he was the one who struck him as the most cold.
'But maybe I'm wrong.'
Looking at where Xavier disappeared, Zeke sighed, not understanding why the man was patrolling so early at night. Since his mind was tired, he brushed it aside and stood up again, taking a mountain of effort to drag his body away.
When he stepped outside the campus, he felt like he was forgetting something. Then, he realized that it was his uniform that he missed. He was supposed to get his uniform at noon, but he was too immersed in his training.
Zeke shook his head, burying it as part of the problems his tomorrow-self needed to worry about. He dragged his body on the streets, soon arriving at Whiskerbasket Apartments. It was odd, but he noticed that the streets were quite empty this evening.
'They're probably asleep…'
But his mind was too exhausted to dwell on it, so he brushed it off as nothing unusual. Zeke pulled out his keys and opened the door. Completely spent, he stepped inside and crashed on his bed, the thin mattress suddenly feeling like the best thing in the world.
'Ahh…'
He groaned, snuggling up to the bed.
He was already sleepy on his way back, and now that he was on his bed, his consciousness began to slip away. He felt like he was still forgetting something, but against his drowsiness, he dismissed that feeling.
Unable to help himself, Zeke's snores soon filled the room.
However, he had forgotten one crucial thing that nobody should ever, ever forget to do in Red Land.
At that moment, a shadow appeared on his doorsteps.
"..."
He had forgotten to lock his door.