"Ah—!"
A sharp scream escaped from the young woman as she suddenly saw her son turned into a ball in just a few seconds. Witnessing the entire process up close, she instinctively covered her mouth, took a few steps back, and stared at Muria in terror.
"What did you do to my son?" Even Bennett, who had maintained his composure until now, couldn't help but lose his cool. He frowned and questioned Muria with a hint of indignation.
"Mr. Bennett, there's no need to be so shocked. The principle behind this is the same as what I just demonstrated to you," Muria explained calmly.
"Jeros, turn me back right now! I don't want to stay like this!" cried Victor, the one most distressed in this situation, having been balled up. The experience was utterly miserable.
"Calm down. I was merely demonstrating to your father why I'm qualified to be your teacher," Muria replied with a smile, holding the visually shocking spherical form that Victor had become in his hands.
"Mr. Bennett, do you now understand why I am qualified to teach your son?"
"I understand. Now, turn my son back to normal," Bennett said, his face slightly stiff but still managing to maintain his composure as an experienced man of the world.
"No problem." Muria began realigning Victor's bones, which had been reduced to something resembling a puddle of goo. Within moments, he restored him to his original state.
"Victor, how do you feel?" the young woman rushed over as soon as her son was back to normal. She prodded and examined him anxiously, worried that he might have lost something or suffered some irreparable injury.
"I feel fine," Victor replied, moving his limbs with an amazed expression. He couldn't believe that after being turned into a ball, he was perfectly intact. It was unbelievable.
"Will what you just did to my son have any impact on his future?" Bennett fixed his sharp gaze on Muria, his tone filled with suspicion.
"Why would you think that? What benefit would I gain from causing lasting harm to your son?" Muria responded with an incredulous expression.
"So, my son is fine?"
"Of course. I was merely using your son's body to demonstrate the uniqueness of martial arts practitioners." Muria spread his hands, a hint of helplessness on his face. Although his actions had been somewhat shocking, they didn't warrant such extreme reactions.
"I will take my son for a check-up. If it's confirmed that he's fine, I'll send him to the capital with you tomorrow morning."
"That won't be necessary. There's a newly built hospital near our estate with state-of-the-art facilities. I'll take him there now," Muria declined the man's suggestion, holding firm to his orders from the family.
"Does my son not even have the right to spend one night at home?" the young woman asked sorrowfully, clutching her son protectively.
"Madam, please remember that your son sneaked out without the approval of any caretaker. I am simply here to take him back," Muria replied, his tone firm.
"Let him decide for himself," Muria said, turning his gaze to Victor, who sat uneasily on the sofa. "What's your choice? Go to the hospital for a check-up and return to the capital tomorrow, or leave with me now?"
"Do I really have a choice?" Victor asked with a wry smile.
"Of course. I won't interfere with your decision. However, you must bear the consequences of your choice."
"Are you threatening my son?" Bennett asked, his anger barely contained.
"No, please don't misunderstand. I'm merely offering a gentle reminder. Do you find my words problematic?"
"Dad, Mom, I'll go back now," Victor said, his expression twisting briefly. He understood the underlying meaning in Muria's words. Facing him, he added, "Let's go."
…
"From the day the family entrusted me with your training until today, thirty days have passed. Both you and the family likely find the training overly harsh, so I've decided to adjust the method based on your feedback," Muria announced.
Standing on a vast lawn, he faced thirteen young people who, while close to his age, were within three years of his. These individuals were the family's future pillars.
"To make training more engaging, I've decided to conduct a survival-style exercise. You will board the family's aircraft and be transported to a cleared wilderness jungle for three days of survival. All high-level native creatures have been removed, leaving only mid-level threats."
"If that's all, it doesn't sound particularly challenging for us. What's the catch?" Desley stepped forward and asked.
"Good question," Muria replied. "As I said, this is a survival exercise. As your instructor, I will participate as the hunter. You will be the prey, tasked with surviving in the forest while evading me—or finding a way to escape if we cross paths."
Hearing this, the initially confident young men and women collectively froze. They all knew that with Jeros participating, the difficulty level would be akin to hell.
…
A large transport aircraft slowed down, descending over a vast expanse of forest. From its interior, one by one, the young figures leapt out, each displaying remarkable agility.
"This so-called survival exercise is just Jeros finding a new way to torment us, both physically and mentally, for his amusement. I'm not falling for it," Victor muttered during his descent.
Once all thirteen landed, they quickly regrouped to discuss their next steps.
"We can't all stick together. Moving as a group is too conspicuous. Splitting into pairs would strike a good balance between safety and efficiency."
"Victor, team up with me!" a girl immediately approached Victor, extending an invitation.
"No thanks. You all pair up; I'm sitting this one out," Victor replied, leaning against a tree.
"Have you given up?"
"Pretty much," Victor said, now sprawled on the ground, exuding an air of indifference.
"Jeros won't be happy if he sees you like this."
"Let him be upset. What's that to me? I'm not playing along with his games," Victor said lazily, a hint of shrewdness in his eyes. "Haven't you noticed? Jeros is too strong—so strong he has no equal. That's why he's resorting to messing with us for entertainment."
"Victor, are you just giving up and refusing to resist?"
"Why struggle? He'll catch and beat us anyway. Might as well save my energy and wait it out," Victor said, clearing a spot on the ground to wait for Muria.
"Fine, suit yourself," the others said, shaking their heads as they walked away.
…
Golden sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled patterns on the ground. Lying on the forest floor, Victor listened to the faint sounds of native creatures and smelled the fresh forest air. His eyelids grew heavy.
But just as he was about to drift off, the sound of footsteps on dry leaves drew near. Opening his eyes, he saw Muria standing over him, frowning.
"I knew it. You've been following us all along, treating us like prey while you enjoy being the hunter," Victor said.
"Why aren't you moving?" Muria asked, his brow furrowed.
"Why bother? Running just makes it more fun for you. The result's the same—I'll still get caught and beaten. So why waste energy?"
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