"Hmm, still not perfect."
Muria observed his internal state. Within his abdomen, he could "see" an expanse of endless dark void, where a vast cloud sea drifted. In its center, a qi wheel rotated slowly, emitting a faint white glow.
This was the result of Muria's all-night cultivation. But the cloud sea and qi wheel weren't something he'd built from scratch overnight; rather, they were the product of twelve years of accumulated energy, finally transformed through the "Celestial Star Way" technique.
"Although the 'Celestial Star Way' is supposed to be the pinnacle of martial arts in this world, it still has many flaws."
Muria frowned. He'd gone from a path-breaking pioneer to someone walking a ready-made road crafted by his predecessors. However, his outlook far surpassed the humans of this world, and to him, their "grand path" felt narrow and rough.
"I need more martial arts manuals to perfect my cultivation technique," Muria mused.
Even without the dragon lady's encouragement, he'd already decided to explore this world's ancient, forgotten powers. Unlike star-armored warriors, martial artists became increasingly independent of external support as their strength grew.
That said, Muria had no intention of abandoning the path of a star-armored warrior. Though his affinity couldn't compare to the dragon lady's, his 64.68% star affinity was far from useless—especially when measured against his father's meager 3%.
"Time for class." After a sleepless night, Muria looked out the window, feeling remarkably energetic, and began getting dressed for school.
...
"After a period of adjustment, you're all ready to wear star armor. So, starting today, we'll be holding practical combat training!"
Led by a tall, energetic young female teacher, the 50 students of the Star Youth Class entered a spacious training area.
"Since you've just started using your star armor, we won't be using mutants as training partners yet." The young teacher, dressed in a tight-fitting combat suit that accentuated her perfect figure, wore a mischievous smile.
"What? Combat training with those bloodthirsty monsters?"
"This has to be a joke! I came here for school, not to go to war!"
"Are you deaf? The teacher said 'later,' not now."
At her words, the young students—who were still quite far from adulthood—broke out into noisy chatter, most looking fearful.
The mutant classes, especially the live demonstration by Instructor Havin, had given these students a clear understanding of the threat mutants posed.
"Quiet! Anyone who keeps making noise will be facing a mutant right now!" The teacher's sharp tone silenced the room. She enjoyed the thrill of intimidating these kids, her mood brightening as she saw their anxious expressions.
"Look at yourselves. People say you're the elite of Cyril Academy, but I think you're a disgrace to humanity! When fighting mutants, fear only brings faster death. Once you're in here, don't think about leaving. The academy's gates are locked; there's no escape.
You will all eventually fight mutants. And here's some honesty—I have five death quotas at my discretion, so you'd better understand what that means."
The teacher watched the expressions of the students with wicked glee, clearly entertained by their discomfort. Life was full of pleasures, and finding them sometimes just required a bit of creativity.
"Do you have a question, Young Master Douglas?" The teacher's gaze focused on the black-haired boy in the front row, who had raised his hand.
"I want to know when we'll start combat with mutants," Muria asked. Aside from the early attack he'd experienced as a child and Havin's demonstration, he hadn't encountered any other non-human creatures.
This was mainly due to his lifestyle, confined to the academy and his secure home in an upscale neighborhood, where security was naturally top-notch.
"And why do you want to know?" The teacher squinted at Muria, studying the confident young man in front of her.
"I want to see how much effort it will take to kill one," Muria replied.
"Ha! The Douglas family's young master certainly thinks differently."
"I'm just an ordinary family member, not a 'young master,'" Muria corrected her.
"To someone like me, there's no difference. Either way, you're out of my league," the teacher chuckled, her tone laced with irony.
"Alright, enough chatter. Let's start the class. Your first opponents are your classmates. Find a partner, two to a group."
As soon as the teacher finished speaking, Muria felt an intense gaze on him. He turned and saw a girl with flaming red hair staring at him eagerly—his neighbor, Hillman.
"Jerros, be my opponent!"
"Are you sure?" Muria raised an eyebrow.
"Are you scared?" Hillman raised her chin proudly, scanning the students around her. No one dared meet her gaze; with the highest affinity in the class, she was seen as the strongest by default.
"No, it's just that… since you're a girl, I'm afraid I might beat you too badly."
"Hah!" Hillman laughed angrily, stretching out her hand to summon her student-issued star armor, which flew toward her and enveloped her like a homing swallow.
"Jerros, put on your star armor. I hope you'll still be as cocky once you're lying on the ground, unable to get up."
"Suit yourself," Muria shrugged, summoning his own star armor from the storage box at the edge of the training ground.
The process of equipping star armor looked impressive and dramatic, a sight that fit perfectly for showing off. Unfortunately, the student-issued armor was too basic, leaving large parts of the body exposed, which lessened its grandeur.
"Ready? I'm going to attack!" Muria called out to the red-haired girl across from him.
"No need for warnings!" Hillman's star armor glowed as she rushed forward, her anger evident in her quick, agile movements.
"Too many openings." Watching her approach, Muria shook his head slightly. He had no interest in dragging this fight out; it was a waste of time.
Bang!
His armored fist struck Hillman's unarmored abdomen.
Caught completely off guard, Hillman let out a choked cry, doubling over as pain shot through her stomach. Tears sprang to her eyes as she gasped for air.
"When did he get so close to me?" Curled up in pain, Hillman was confused. She hadn't even noticed Muria moving in.
"Getting distracted during a fight is a fatal mistake," a calm voice sounded, and she felt her arm grabbed. She was pulled in close, then spun through the air in a jarring shoulder throw.
"Ugh!" Hillman grunted as she hit the ground, her back screaming in pain. She realized that the jerk had actually thrown her over his shoulder without the slightest concern for her.
"You…" Lying on the ground, Hillman looked up at Muria, her face a mix of anger and embarrassment. Was something wrong with him? Did he have no sense of pity?
"What? Not satisfied? If so, get up and fight me again. I'll keep going until you're convinced," Muria replied, his response a classic of unfiltered directness.
Seeing Muria defeat the class's top talent in just two moves, the other students exchanged glances, then stared at him as if he were some kind of alien.
"Jerros, as a warrior, I must commend you. Well done!" The teacher, having witnessed the match, walked over, her expression intrigued as she looked at Muria.
"But from a woman's perspective, you're a real jerk—a true scoundrel of Cyril Academy. She's such a beautiful girl, and you didn't hold back at all."
"I didn't hold back because I wanted Hillman to recognize the gap between us and stop bothering me. My time is precious, and I have no patience for trivialities," Muria explained. His classmates and teacher looked at him with even stranger expressions.
…
By the end of the day, Muria's name had spread throughout the academy, along with the title "The Scoundrel of Cyril." Muria paid it no mind and even found a moment to dial a number.
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