"Come here, kiddo," Urmas roared, extending his arm. "Let me show you the ways of a true warrior!"

Hearing Urmas's familiar command, a wide, forceful smile appeared on Ash's face. He rubbed his sore neck, which was hurting like hell, but to not make Urmas suspicious, he could only bite the bullet and hide his discomfort in his heart. Calmly, he pushed aside the creepy "GAME OVER" notification from his field of view and, after taking a deep breath, he recalled all the advice Urmas gave him before rushing toward him.

Ash's movements were more refined and thoughtful than before. He didn't attack blindly, but instead, tried to observe Urmas's reactions. Every time he sensed Urmas attempting an attack, he quickly moved away, knowing that a hit from Urmas would likely disarm him.

While his strategy wasn't terrible, it was ultimately ineffective. After a few dozen seconds of repetitive movements, Urmas grew bored. He dodged Ash's attack with ease and delivered a powerful kick to the location of his tailbone, sending Ash face-first into the dirt.

"You surprise me, kiddo," Urmas spoke with a chuckle. "I didn't expect such quick reflexes, but cowardice isn't a sin when you know you're facing a superior opponent whom you can't possibly defeat. Most bandits, like yourself, instinctively flee if they encounter an unbeatable foe. If fleeing isn't an option, they employ a defensive stance, stalling for time in the hopes of rescue. A shameless attack is a last resort, used only when all else fails. A bandit's primary objectives during combat are to either win decisively with minimal losses or simply survive, utilizing any means necessary. Your current mindset is perfectly with the line of a genuine bandit..."

"Sigh," Urmas continued, his voice laced with frustration, "If I had the option, I might consider taking you on as a student. But this damn poverty... if I did, we'd both be in serious trouble in the future. You may not know this, but being a bandit is no easy feat, especially when you have a black-hearted leader who's constantly eyeing your pockets. One day, I'll kill that bastard with my own two hands" He spat angrily, grinding his teeth. The deep hatred for his boss clearly visible on his face.

Ash, who had already considered Urmas and his gang a stepping stone to his path of being powerful, didn't care about the feud between Urmas and his boss. Anyway, one day when he became strong enough, he'd personally send everyone on a one-way trip to another world. Training was his sole focus at this point. Dusting himself off after rising from the ground, he waited patiently for Urmas's anger to subside before resuming their sparring session.

...

This time, maybe because Ash was repeating things and was mentally prepared, or maybe because of his recent improvement, Urmas deemed further instruction unnecessary since Ash's basics were clear and he already knew more than enough. After three rounds of sparring with near no guidance and a lot of taunts, Urmas casually declared the session over and approached Ash with rope in hand, ready to tie him up and bring him to his base.

However, Ash was clearly unsatisfied. Although this time he wasn't beaten as miserably as previously, without Urmas's active guidance, he didn't make any improvement as well. So, Ash gave Urmas an angry look before slicing his own throat, ready to reload another attempt.

"What the f*ck!" Urmas's surprised and disbelieving voice echoed through the forest, but clearly, no one cared about it.

...

"Come here, kiddo," Urmas roared, extending his arm. "Let me show you the ways of a true warrior!"

Same dialogue, same short figure, but Ash wasn't in a good mood. This time, instead of rushing toward Urmas, he closed his eyes and pondered a bit. He aimed to inflate Urmas's ego, making him put more effort into training for better results. Only then could Ash truly maximize his own learning.

Having made his decision, Ash rushed towards Urmas, swinging his dagger wildly like a true novice. Even if he attacked with full force, he was no match for Urmas, let alone attacking randomly without any thought. Unsurprisingly, Urmas easily sidestepped and tripped Ash, causing him to fall with a thud and leave a dust cloud behind.

Urmas burst into laughter. "Hahaha, kiddo! What were you thinking, getting so serious that you fell for such an obvious trick? Didn't anyone teach you to never let your guard down during a fight, no matter how weak you perceive your opponent to be? Since I'm willing to waste my time on you, don't disappoint me. Focus on what's happening now, and leave the rest for later. You'll have plenty of time to think soon enough." He winked at Ash playful.

Ash still didn't open his mouth, but anyone can say his mood was not very good. He rose from the ground and immediately launched a fierce attack on Urmas, this time with his all strength. He focused all his attention on Urmas's movements, trying to see if he could find any flaw. But sadly, Urmas's technique was just too perfect for a noob like him. A casual swing of Urmas's axe soon disarmed him again.

"Kiddo," Urmas said, his smile vanishing. He looked at Ash calmly retrieving his dagger, a sudden suspicion forming. "Were you hiding your strength at the beginning to surprise me?" He felt a pang of betrayal. He'd treated Ash well, but it seemed the boy harboured ill intent. Although most bandits are known for being shameless and traitorous but this doesn't mean they could accept such behaviour toward themselves with ease. What Ash did was a clear slap on Urma's face.

"I underestimated you, boy" Urmas admitted. "How can someone who, even after knowing that he was about to be sold as a slave, be in such a calm state and even be in the mood to play with me? You actually wanted to sneak attack me, huh? Not bad, not bad... You have opened my eyes, kiddo. I will remember it," As he spoke, Urmas's body became enveloped in a yellow aura-like thing, and before Ash could react, he suddenly noticed something right beside him, but it was too late to turn his head. He only felt something touching his cheek, and he was flown from his location like a rocket and hit hard on a nearby tree with a resounding boom.

BOOM!

Ash smashed into the tree with astonishing speed and shot out a mouthful of blood with wide-open eyes before collapsing to the ground and losing consciousness.

"Tsk," Urmas muttered in disgust, approaching Ash with a small axe slung over his shoulder. "This f*cker wanted to mess with me. Nowadays, you really can't be nice to anyone, otherwise, people start thinking you are easy to mess with and immediately try to take advantage of you. Even such a weak chicken dares to sneak attack me."

He casually checked Ash's breathing, and after confirming that he was still alive, he breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he thought he had hit him too hard in anger and the boy might have lost his life.

"Sigh, this good-for-nothing runt is pathetically weak. Although I used magic, even then being knocked out with a single punch is too shameful," Urmas muttered with disgust. He first picked up Ash's dagger, checked it, and threw it away as if it were some kind of trash. Then, he tied Ash tightly like a mummy with his rope and, after taking his belongings, started walking toward the bandit base.

...

"Ughh! F*ck, my body is hurting like hell. That little bastard is far more powerful than what he looks."

After an unknown amount of time, Ash slowly opened his eyes with a painful expression. He looked around and found himself imprisoned in a small, completely sealed, and utterly dark square cell. A heavy iron door blocked the entrance, and a small fist-sized hole in the back wall near the ceiling provided a sliver of moonlight illuminating the cramped space. There was no bed or something, he was lying on the floor with a tattered mattress. There was also a wooden bucket in a corner that smelled like shit, polluting the entire cell with limited fresh air.

"Now, where the hell am I?" Ash groaned, pushing himself to his feet. He fought the urge to vomit, the foul odor from the bucket (his presumed future toilet) assaulting his poor nose. He approached the iron door and wanted to knock on it, trying his luck if someone could tell him what was going on. But his hands paused mid-air as he felt an unnatural chill against his skin.

Ash, who was still dazed and confused by the whirlwind of events happening to him, looked down and was dumbfounded to see himself in only his underwear, and it wasn't even his own. It was an old dirty unknown person's underwear with many holes everywhere, and his little brother was poking its head out helplessly from a big hole.

"F*CK! Where are my clothes...?"