"What's happening?" The violent explosion and intense shaking instantly jolted Victor from his near-sleep. He sat up in bed, dazed, looking around in shock.
Where was his nightstand? His bookshelf? His desk? And all those carefully collected "study" materials? Where did everything go?
Victor stared dumbfounded at the massive hole next to him. The left side of his bed, the floor, the wall, and even the ceiling were partially blown away. The edge of his bed was shredded, clearly impacted by the explosion.
Glancing in front and then behind him, he realized with horror that the building he was in had been blown clean through, and he was just on the edge of the destruction.
"With that kind of force, if I'd been hit directly, I'd be dead, wouldn't I?" he thought, stunned, looking at the terrifying damage around him.
Without the protective gear of a star mech, Star Mech Masters are especially vulnerable. Sure, they were physically enhanced beyond normal humans due to the unique energy in their training, but their bodies still had inherent fragility.
"This kind of power… was it some sort of shelling?" He tried to guess what weapon had caused this destruction but quickly realized, "Wait, this is the Douglas family estate. Who would dare attack here?"
As Victor continued to wonder, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, sending a shiver through his whole body. Without thinking, he activated his star mech armor, equipping himself just as a thick bullet trailing a white streak smashed through the wall in front of him, hurtling toward him.
Victor's body reacted on instinct, deploying layer upon layer of energy shields in front of him.
Boom!
The building shook again, part of it collapsing further as flames from the explosion burst out. A figure was thrown through the air, blasted out onto the lawn.
"Cough, cough!" Victor staggered to his feet on the lawn, his whole body stinging with pain, especially in his chest and abdomen. He quickly assessed his injuries.
He had suffered widespread bruising and some internal impact, but a few hours in a medical pod would repair him. It was nothing serious. Having been injured so many times recently, he had become adept at judging his recovery time.
"Who's attacking me?" Victor demanded, furious as he searched for the attacker. Soon, he spotted Muria nearby, watching him with a faint smile and holding an oversized sniper… cannon?
"Geros! Was that you shooting at me?" Victor yelled angrily at Muria, glancing back at the building he'd just left.
The building now had a massive, gaping hole. Such severe damage was probably the worst the estate had suffered since its construction.
"Why ask if you already know the answer?" Muria pulled back the bolt, loading another round, and aimed at Victor. "By the way, I hit you, didn't I? How does it feel?"
"Do you realize what you're doing? You're attacking a future core member of the Douglas family!"
"Talking nonsense. I'm simply exercising the family's right to discipline a student who skips training." Muria raised the sniper rifle, taking aim once again at Victor.
"Skipping training is enough reason to shoot me?" Victor shouted, his face twisted in anger and shock. "I told you, I'll be out of training soon, and you won't have the authority to control me."
"Who told you that? I haven't received any family notice about it. When did you get the idea you have a say in whether you attend this training? Aren't you being a bit too naive?"
Looking at Victor, Muria calmly pulled the trigger again. A brilliant white projectile shot out, trailing a streak toward him.
"Geros, you're shooting again?" Victor hastily deployed his armor, launching a barrage of attacks to intercept the bullet mid-air, detonating it before it could reach him. The explosion tore up a section of the lawn, exposing the dark earth beneath.
"This gun is too weak," Muria muttered, shaking his head in disappointment as he watched his attack get deflected.
"Hasn't the family sent any notice?" Victor asked, his tone desperate.
"The notice saying you're exempt from training? Nope, not a word."
"Impossible!" Victor's face froze in disbelief. His dad had assured him that he'd handle things with the family. Could something have gone wrong?
"I did get a call, though, from a middle-aged guy named Bennett. Looked a lot like you. That wouldn't happen to be your dad, would it?"
"That's my dad's name," Victor replied, gritting his teeth, a sense of dread settling in.
"Oh, then it makes sense. Do you know what he said to me?"
"What did he say?"
"He told me to train you however I like—as long as you're not dead, I'm free to beat you to your limits," Muria replied, smiling.
"No way… That can't be true!" Victor's mind reeled as he froze in place. He seriously considered getting a DNA test to see if he was actually his father's son. What kind of parent would do this to their child?
"Why not? That's exactly what your father told me. Now, hurry over for training. As punishment for skipping today, you'll be the first to spar with me." Muria put away his gun and waved Victor over.
"Brother, I think you should report your actions today to the butler. Otherwise, you might get into some trouble," Daisy reminded him, glancing at the evacuated family members surrounding the building Muria had just targeted.
"Oh!" Muria considered her suggestion, nodded, and took out his communicator, dialing Butler Pais. "Hello, Butler Pais? You noticed what happened just now, right? Send a repair crew over to fix it."
"…Is that the only reason you're calling?" Butler Pais looked at Muria's calm expression, both exasperated and amused.
"Right. I accidentally blew a hole in the manor while training a student, so send someone over to repair it," Muria replied nonchalantly.
"Accidentally?" Butler Pais felt a twinge of pain, finding Muria's shamelessness hard to believe. Did he think he was blind?
"Young Master Geros, I must remind you that this is family property. Please remember that this is a residential area, not a battlefield."
"Fine, I'll keep that in mind next time. But you know, on the battlefield, there's no such thing as a residential area. I'm just helping them adapt in advance."
"Young Master Geros, could you tone down your training methods a bit? Sending people to the hospital every few days isn't ideal. It's causing some members of the family to have complaints about you."
"Complaints every three days? Then I'll space it out to every four or five days. How's that?"
"But there's no need for them to end up hospitalized every time."
"I'm preparing them for the pain they'll face. They need to learn how to endure."
"In any case, please try to ease up."
"I was just trying to get quick results. But if you're not in a hurry, I can slow down."
…
As the sun set over the blood-stained training field, Victor lay on the ground, arms and legs fractured, staring blankly at the sky. Around him were the groans of the wounded and muttered curses from others, as medics arrived to assess his injuries.
"You're hurt pretty badly again. Looks like you're headed back to the hospital. Didn't you just get discharged yesterday? What happened? You used to only need to go every three to five days. Did your skills deteriorate?" the nurse muttered, checking his vitals.
"I ticked off the instructor. That's all." Victor forced a bitter smile, glancing at the concerned nurse.
"Wow, you're really out of luck!" The nurse gave him a sympathetic look, her gaze drifting over the devastated field, riddled with pits, dark stains, and fragments of shattered armor.
"Yeah, out of luck…" Victor lay back on the stretcher, his eyes drifting to the sky, feeling the weight of his fate pressing down on him.
"I can't keep this up," he realized, his mind racing. "If I keep training like this, Geros will either beat me to death or drive me insane. If I can't escape through the usual channels, I'll have to find some other way."
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