「Arc 1: Subjugation」Chapter 0008 「Fist」
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"Humph!" 71 poured all his strength into one hand holding the chalice.

"What's that idiot doing?" 18 asked, observing from afar.

"Trying to break it with one arm—never mind him," said 101 as he rummaged through the piles of books on the ground. There was a lot that he had to research.

-

Holy!

The kids looked with glistering eyes as the servants had completed the unfinished room. Out of the two rooms added, one was the kitchen, another was—

"A training area! Let's go!" One kid exclaimed excitedly.

Most kids rifled through the new equipment. The entire room looked about 200 meters long. A ring about a 3-meter radius filled with sand was in the center. At the end of the room, there seemed to be a long waterfall. The rest of the room was divided into compartments—each compartment bristled with tools to train diverse traits.

"I don't like this," 71 said as he realized the ground was open, and everyone would be able to see how the others trained. He didn't like that one bit.

"Neither do I," 101 reciprocated. Ever since little, he'd always learned skills alone or under the guidance of a scholar. He had a habit of learning alone, and because of his fragile bones, he'd never performed martial arts or even exercised. Now, he'd started exercising every day, alone in his room. Thinking about having to do push-ups or punching drills under others' eyesight, the 201-year-old felt embarrassed.

"Neither do I," 18 also reciprocated. She thought physical labor would end up being too tiresome.

Sigh!

All three sighed. But they weren't the only ones who didn't prefer open training groups. Others like 50, 84, 12, and many more also did not like it.

Ding!

The kids' gaze fell towards the east as they heard a loud ring. A few steps away from the center of the ring, there was a brass round bell.

178 rang the bell to attract everyone's attention. The professors had explained the basic working of this room to her, as she was the head of the organizers.

"For the next 27 days, there will be no classes," 178 declared. "Those who wish to train here may train here. As for those who wish to train alone, the professors will provide separate tools."

101 and 71 both sighed in relief.

"I still don't like it," 18 said, seeing the other two sigh.

"As for the lazy ones, who wish to do nothing, the library is open. They may spend their time there.—Now everyone scram." 178 said in a grim tone.

-

"All we get are the weights?" 71 said while looking at the piles of white circular metallic plates placed over each other. He stretched his arm to grab one of the smaller ones.

The plate was the same size as his palm, yet… "Tsk," His veins bulged as he barely managed to lift one with both of his arms.

"You make it look so hard," 101 stretched his arms and tried to lift one. "Tsk…" The veins in his arms bulged because of the heavyweight.

"Yeah… I'm not using those." 18 turned behind and left, humming.

-

101 huffed heavily in his room. To transfer that many tools from the classroom to his own room was an ordeal.

He rested on his back, in his bed, and breathed heavily. "even after all that exercise.." He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Since the first day, he'd maintained strict discipline and did light exercise every night. But even with all that carrying the tools was no easy deal.

In his 201-year lifetime, just carrying those tools might have been the greatest physical labor he ever did.

"Now then.." After a while of resting, he grabbed the hammer and nails and started attaching the pieces of equipment. Like, stone-weighted training tools for upper body conditioning, a blocking post with a movable arm, a weighted rope used to build hand, wrist, and forearm strength, a wooden striking post, iron clogs, etc.

As he fixed them onto the surface, he wondered how much they would cost. Not just the training equipment, but the high-quality herbs available in the kitchen, the cost of renovating the rooms, and the cost to care for and raise all those kids. For now, he and all the kids were getting all these supports for what seemed to be free. This gave him a bad feeling.

-

101 took a long breath as he stood positioned in front of a wooden striking post—his fist clenched mid-air.

Bam!

Crack!

With one swift stroke, he punched the striking post with his left hand. Then, he quickly used his right hand to cover his mouth as he felt his knuckle crack, "That hurt!" But…

Bam!

Crack!

Again, he struck with his right. His knuckles cracked again.

Bam!

He punched again with the cracked arm.

Bam! Bam!Bam!

After a barrage of punches, his face brewed a smile. After the number of punches increased, the intensity of pain soared, but so did the smile on his face.

-

71 also stood still in front of a wooden striking post. His eyes were closed. There was a lot on his mind. He'd always been on top by grades. But now, after the introduction of various Arts, he was sure the grading system would change. The power dynamics would change. Be it in wits or might, he'd no intention of being anywhere else except the top. That was the adamant vow he swore to himself when he decided to punch Number 50.

Bam!

He punched the post.

Bam!

He punched again, and it felt good.

Bam!

By the third punch, his knuckles cracked.

Bam!

But he did not stop,

Bam!

With every punch, he felt his frustrations leaving his body, and his heartbeat grew louder.

Bam!

Pain engulfed his body, but his face grew a smile.

Bam!

After a while, he lost his sense of reason. Even when blood started to pour out, he did not stop.

.

That day, he kept punching till he passed out.

-

"I-I won't even ask what happened," 18 said as she looked at 71's and 101's arms. Currently, all 3 of them stood in the kitchen before a desk.

"How even…" She looked in stupefy as she saw that both of their skin had been torn around their knuckle, and she could see tiny bones and muscles bulging out near the palm and finger joint. Not to mention, their previously white skin tone now looked like a mixture of blue and red.

"Why…would anyone even go that far?" 18, could not understand the reason behind their stupidity.

"I don't know," said 71 as he looked at his broken arm. After waking up, he'd pondered a lot on why he did that. "At first, I wanted to test my fists. At least, that was the reason for the first punch. But..before I realized, my arm moved on its own for the second. Then, I could not stop."

"Precisely," 101 nodded in agreement. He was a man of reason. At least he believed himself to be. The action he took last night felt out of character for him. In the morning, he was in such disbelief that he blamed the wooden post for being cursed for a while. "This morning, I woke up in my pool of blood. It's a blessing I didn't die out of blood loss."

"So much for not being irrational," 18 said satirically.

"I cannot feel my arms." 101 said while looking at 18.

"So?"

"I need someone to bandage them," 101 said while trying to lift his numb arms.

"I cannot feel mine too," 71 also said while looking at 18.

18 sighed.

-

"After hearing all of your thoughts, I have devised a simple routine," 82 announced, standing tall in the ring. He looked down at his group and explained his plans.

No one had discovered the way to test compatibility for the Dark Arts. Thus, after a lengthy discussion, 82 had devised a routine.

Those uninterested in Martial Arts training would focus their time researching Medicinal Arts or Dark Arts.

The ones in charge of Medicinal Arts were 84 and his small group. The rest of his group was assigned to gather more information about the Dark Arts from the library. As for those, who wanted to research all forms of arts, they would have to take turns. For example, one day for Martial Arts, another for Medicinal Arts, and another for Dark Arts.

As for 82, he dedicated his entire time to practicing Martial Arts and strengthening his body. Of course, once his group members discovered the way to test compatibility, he would focus on Dark Arts, but for now, it was time to train his body.

-

82 stood in front of the waterfall. Looking up, he could barely see the waterfall's ceiling or originating point. The concentration of the waterfall decreased around the sides, giving the rocky surface a slithery feel.

82 brushed his palm against the surface, feeling through the stones. He stood near the edge, so there was no water, but the surface was slithery. Climbing such a straight and lubricious surface would be arduous. And should he fall, the ground below is made of rocky black stones. The pain would be excruciating.

He chuckled—the perfect spot to start training. But of course, he was not the only one who decided to train here.

Turning his head, he could see 178 standing beside him. Both of their gazes met.

Thus, began the competition to see who could climb the top.

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