Augustus grabbed a baton and pointed at the dungeon.
"This is my custom-made training dungeon. For three months, I'll train you in my martial arts. Then, you'll spend another three months inside it—alone. After that, you'll head back to the city."
"Wha—what? Return... there?" Josen barely uttered above a whisper, going pale.
"Yes. You must be strong-willed, young man. Training will be tough, but it'll be worth it. You'll gain real power, and experience too."
"Y-yes sir."
"Good. Now go change into your training gear—it's in that room over, just past the closet."
The smell of the synthetic tracksuit was surprisingly nice. It was smooth, slick, and shone under the light.
"Wow… this is nice."
"First off," he continued, baton in hand,
"you're going to face great challenges. You need to harden your heart. Power isn't something you just unlock—you have to sweat for it, bleed for it."
"Now, watch me closely."
He watched in awe. The movements were soft, yet sharp and precise—no wasted motion. Every strike was swift, direct, and aimed to kill or neutralize.
But...
Is it enough? Can I really stand up to them—those monsters with their systems...?
As his thoughts spiraled and despair crept in, a sharp whistle split the air. A panel strike boomed past his ear. He barely dodged it—and realized that if it had landed, he probably wouldn't be standing.
"You're here to train, not fall into your thoughts," he snapped. "Now do exactly what I did."
"Turn there—good. Twist here. Now… strike."
He missed the bullet embedded in the mannequin's head. Again. Augustus sensed the frustration boiling over. After six hours of failing, Josen's morale was starting to crack.
"This is hopeless," he muttered. "Everyone else is casually getting stronger... and I'm just down here, sweating in some cold, heartless dungeon."
looking at him, voice calm but firm.
"Listen, boy... You're not here to become strong. You're here to become real. Strength is just the byproduct."
feeling something stir inside him. He rose to his feet and threw a kick—clumsy, but determined. Augustus, watching quietly, allowed himself a faint smile.
He's growing... in body and mind.
"How do I rotate my hand for this punch?" He asked.
"Start with your palm facing up. Then throw the punch while slowly rotating your arm. You'll feel the wind after it lands."
BOOM.
As he withdrew his fist, he could feel the air ripple around it.
"Whoa… that was—"
"Impressive," cutting in. "Took me a year to get a boom that loud. Now keep practicing—along with your kicks. Focus your mind, purge your soul. Let the martial will flow."
He turned toward the stairs.
"You'll grow strong, my boy," Augustus said in a low voice—just loud enough for Josen to hear.
Weeks go by, as he, even though his growing and understanding the techniques of his grandfather, still feels like his drastically below the expected level for him, but remember the words of his grandpa
rise boost your conviction so u will never fall
Yes sir he says and he stands up one more time ,"formless fang: first form, rapid strike"
Four straight punches around the solar pexus
And a massive chop the the neck of the mannequin causing it to shake violently, finally nailing the first move of the first form of formless fang.
"Yes finally...."
"Ah… ah…"
His panting echoed off the stone walls as he trudged through the hallway, sweat clinging to his brow.
"Woo—ah… oh God. I'm so tired. This is killing me. Jeez, I'm starving"
dragged his feet, passing by ornate paintings and shimmering sculptures. For a moment, he paused, eyes lingering on the polished artwork. How hard did Grandpa work for all this? he wondered. He built this all on his ownno help, no shortcuts. No relying on… them.
His thoughts drifted again, back to Liones. The betrayal still stung. Servants who once bowed and scraped for his attention, now the first to scoff at his downfall. Friends who praised him, made him class captain, who called him their leader vanished. And the girls… their attention, once so constant, now gone without a trace.
That day... they all ignored me. Some laughed, some mocked… but no one—no one stood up for me.
"Lost in thought again?" Augustus's calm voice broke through.
"Yeah Just thinking about… them. How they treated me."
"Let it go," Augustus cut in firmly. "If you don't, it'll weigh you down. Cleanse your heart, and hold your spirit steady."
All he could do was sigh, forcing a nod. "Hmm… okay, sir. Hey, wait… is that spaghetti?"
He laughed softly as Josen's face lit up. In seconds, Josen dashed into the kitchen, sliding across the floor to scoop himself a generous plate.
As they sat and ate together, the conversation gradually turned.
"Grandpa," he spook mouth half full, "how are you so damn strong? I mean… shouldn't Dad and the other elders know about it?"
A small smirk curved Augustus's lips, the glint of pride flickering in his eyes.
"Well," he said with a shrug, "I am pretty powerful."
"Oh really? How powerful exactly?"
"I'd say… somewhere around the level of an SS-ranked player."
CLINK.
Josen dropped his fork.
"What?! SS-rank?! That's insane! There are only ten SS-rankers in all of Liones. And you're saying you're at that level?!"
Augustus chuckled. "Yes. And trust me, you'll grow far beyond that. I just started late."
"Late?"
"After I was cast out of the Malkador family, they gave me some money as compensation. I used it to seek something more valuable than power—knowledge."
"Knowledge?"
"I traveled the world," Augustus said, his voice softening with memory. "Found ancient temples and ruins most people don't even know exist".
leaning forward, intrigued.
"Those scrolls taught me that we—Defectors—aren't cursed. We're different. We aren't tied down by the system. Our growth has no ceiling."
" infinitely? That doesn't even make sense. Wouldn't that make us, like… gods? Then why aren't more Defectors strong?"
Augustus's smile faded.
"Because they've been made to forget. Brainwashed. Centuries ago, there was a great Defector. His power surpassed system logic. They say he rivaled forces that were beyond the system."
"Beyond the system?"
"Yes. The scrolls didn't go into too much detail, but this man… he terrified the world powers. So they allied with the strongest players and the global government to take him down."
"They captured him and made an example out of him—broadcasted it everywhere. That fear? That defeat? It spread like poison. Since then, Defectors have lived in shadows."
He sat quietly, eyes widening.
"But he… he didn't just disappear. He left behind those scrolls to preserve his legacy. To give us something to build on. Something to believe in."
Augustus's eyes met Josen's.
"And maybe someday… we'll not just survive—but stand shoulder to shoulder with the strongest. No longer ridiculed. No longer feared. Just… seen."