> "Why… do you learn martial arts?"
There was still some time before class began.
James stared at Mike, his mind drifting again as he recalled the first martial arts lesson.
Back then, Mike had stood in the same position, his voice booming through the training hall:
> "Because you are reserve soldiers. One day, you will go to the battlefield—to fight the vassals of the Outer Gods to the death! Learning martial arts… is to stay alive!"
> "Remember that—and train hard! Train like your life depends on it!! Only then will you have a chance to survive!!!"
> "Your background means you can't afford the resources to become mech pilots or psychics. But martial arts—though resource-light—still offer a solid path of advancement. It's your best shot at evolution!"
> "I expect every one of you to reach the Second Realm of Martial Arts before graduation and master at least one A-rank martial technique. Otherwise, once you hit the battlefield, you're just dead meat. There's no second possibility!"
That bloody truth had brutally dragged James back into reality.
Now, in the present, Mike was beginning another lecture:
> "Most vassals of the Outer Gods possess mental or psychic contamination. Even the lowest servant class can emit spiritual shockwaves. At first, the Federation's fleets and mecha divisions suffered heavy casualties. The asylums were overflowing…
But later, we discovered something — once the human body advances through martial evolution, it develops Martial Will, capable of resisting that kind of psychic corruption.
Although reaching the Guts Realm and touching upon the power of 'Intent' by adulthood is nearly impossible, the Federation has developed many techniques that use hypnosis to artificially awaken similar power. Those are what we call A-rank martial arts."
James listened below, teeth aching slightly.
Martial Arts—advertised as the most cost-effective evolution path of the Blue Star Federation—were in truth the cannon fodder track.
There were many ways to resist psychic corruption: potions crafted by alchemists, psychic talismans from mind adepts, psionic armor, or modified mecha units.
But none of these were things someone like him—a debt-ridden Bio-Human—could ever afford.
For people like him, there was only one path:
Train. Fight. Kill.
Train in martial arts.
Fight the Outer Gods' vassals.
If you survived a few years, maybe—just maybe—you could retire alive.
Of course, the Federation hadn't completely sealed off hope for Bio-Humans.
After all, biologically, they weren't much different from Naturals. They still had limitless potential.
The original James who sat here once had a dream—to enter university and postpone conscription.
By Federation law, if you managed to get into university, you received a scholarship and a deferment of military service until after graduation.
It was said that many of the Federation's greatest Martial Saints and War Gods had started that way.
> "College entrance exam, huh…"
"It's difficult. Incredibly difficult. Even Mike probably assumes none of us will ever make it."
After all, one of the basic prerequisites for university admission was to reach the Third Realm of Martial Arts — the Jade Realm (Pǔ Yù) before graduating high school.
The three major realms of martial arts were:
First Realm: Flesh and Skin,
Second Realm: Tendons and Bones,
Third Realm: Jade Body.
A warrior who reached the Jade Realm had transcended human biology—his five organs worked in perfect harmony, his body could automatically repair hidden injuries, and he could live a healthy life up to 120 years without illness.
James sighed inwardly and focused on Mike's movements.
At the front, Mike stood in a horse stance, his spine undulating like a great dragon.
> "Today's training—hold the Great Dragon Stance for thirty minutes, then follow me through the Twelve Forms of Military Fist."
> "The Great Dragon Stance needs no introduction. It's the best foundational stance for tempering the flesh—the First Realm of martial cultivation.
Optimized through countless simulations by the Federation's supreme AI, the 'All-Knowing Brain,' it has reached the level of perfection—exercising every muscle fiber with zero omissions.
Remember: don't stand stiffly—move in both body and mind. Picture your torso as a great dragon, your spine as its bone, and your limbs as its claws…
The stance should not exceed one hour daily. If possible, students should purchase D3-grade Nutrient Solution for recovery."
Mike's explanation was detailed, though he sighed inwardly.
A single bottle of D3 Nutrient Solution cost 5,000 Star Credits—something most Bio-Human students could never sustain.
But that was how it was.
The Federation's resources were limited, and martial arts were already the cheapest and most accessible evolutionary path.
If a student didn't display potential, neither the school nor society had reason to invest.
---
Breathe in… breathe out…
James calmed his mind and assumed the Great Dragon Stance.
A strange sense of familiarity washed over him—as if his body already knew this technique from long practice.
He unconsciously slowed his breathing, visualizing a mighty dragon coiling in his mind. His spine quivered faintly, vertebra by vertebra.
Soon, his skin tingled; heat coursed through his muscles.
His whole body felt alive—numb, itchy, burning.
> "Hold on… hold on…"
He gritted his teeth.
He'd crossed worlds—how could he give up before touching this new world's power?
He didn't know how much time had passed, but suddenly his strength gave out. Darkness swam before his eyes.
A wave of exhaustion crashed through him—like a marathoner hitting the wall.
> "Is this the limit? Am I going to faint? I can't pass out in class—what a humiliation that would be…"
Then, in his half-conscious daze, James felt himself back on that night—the night he'd stayed up reading a novel before waking in this world.
A sword light flashed before his eyes.
Under that sword's brilliance, countless worlds seemed to rise and fall—created and destroyed in a single stroke.
> "That… that was the scene I saw when I crossed over?"
> "Why does it feel like a sword, not a blade… or any other kind of light?"
> "And under that sword light… it felt like something terrifying was being sealed away…"
Before he could think further, the sword light split into two glowing orbs—one red, one white.
The two orbs chased each other in a spiral, like twin fish… or the pattern of a red-and-white Taiji diagram.
Then—
BOOM!!!
The red and white lights collided.
Blinding radiance swallowed everything.
The Taiji pattern shattered—and from its ruins, a faint glow appeared before his eyes.
---
[Name: James]
[Age: 16]
[Profession: Martial Artist]
A simple panel.
As his awareness focused on the "Martial Artist" line, more details unfolded below:
> First Realm: Flesh and Skin (Refinement: 21 / 100)
Twelve Forms of Military Fist: 55 / 100 (Beginner)
Great Dragon Stance: 67 / 100 (Beginner)
---
> "What is this… a game interface? My golden finger? Could it be linked to that sword-light vision?"
James's mind buzzed—and suddenly, countless insights about the Great Dragon Stance surfaced in his thoughts.
Strength returned to his body.
It was as if dry channels were suddenly filled with fresh water, stopping him from fainting.
> "Right… even though I inherited the original owner's mind and muscle memory, my control wasn't perfectly synchronized. I knew how—but my body lagged behind. Now, with this panel… my progress is permanently recorded. My mastery can only increase—never regress!"
> "Finally… I've fully integrated with this body—mind, soul, and martial skill alike."
> "If only I could add points directly…"
James couldn't help a greedy thought—but after searching the panel, found no "Add" option. He sighed and let it go.
---
> "Alright, thirty minutes are up!"
Mike's voice rang out.
Students immediately relaxed—the relief palpable.
Noah, drenched in sweat, collapsed to the ground, gasping.
James was better off—his legs wobbled but held.
> "James, your stance looks stronger. Been practicing secretly at night?"
Noah teased between heavy breaths.
> "This is just my normal level!"
James replied through gritted teeth—though in truth, he added silently:
> "…the original James's peak condition, that is."
Human performance fluctuated, but with his progress now locked in on that mysterious panel, he could maintain peak form indefinitely.
To Noah, it simply looked like James had improved again.
> "Heh, your stance may be a bit better, but let's see what happens next," Noah grinned, pushing himself up.
At that moment, Mike bellowed:
> "Don't lie down! Your bodies are warm and ready—stand up and train! Twelve Forms of Military Fist, first form: Bow-Step Cannon Fist!"
James arched his spine like a drawn bow. His tendons stretched taut like strings. His right hand clenched tight—bones crackling audibly.
He imagined his body as a great bow—and his fist as the arrow.
PAH!
The air popped from the punch.
Noah, startled beside him, flinched.
> "James, what the—how did you get so strong!?"
Mike's sharp eyes swept the room.
Several students had managed to produce that sharp "pop" in the air. His stern face softened slightly.
> "Good. The ancient martial scrolls say, 'A thousand gold coins can't buy a single sound.'
If you can make that sound, you'd be considered a Bright Force Martial Artist in ancient times—able to fight ten men at once!
But it's not enough. Far from it!"
> "Why is this first form called Cannon Fist? The Bow Step is just the beginning. Imagine your body not as a bow—but as a cannon! Use the fire of your heart to ignite your blood, and blast your fist like a cannonball!"
As he spoke, Mike demonstrated.
BOOM!
The same Bow-Step Cannon Fist—but the air itself detonated.
James's eardrums throbbed, his heart quivered, and his chest tightened.
> "That punch… it carries at least twenty years of training. I wouldn't survive one hit…"
Mike withdrew his fist calmly.
> "When you can release a true Cannon Punch—the kind worth ten thousand gold—you've reached minor mastery. The key lies in Heart Fire, the will that drives your blood like gunpowder."
As he spoke, Mike placed his palm on a student's back and pressed lightly.
That student's face flushed red; he threw a punch—this time the "pop" was noticeably louder.
> "This kind of hands-on instruction… no hologram could ever replicate it. But I guess only those who can produce the 'sound' get the privilege…"
James was still thinking when Mike suddenly appeared behind him.
> "Punch!"
Mike's hand pressed against his back.
Instantly, heat flooded James's chest—like ignited gunpowder bursting to escape.
> "Hah!!"
He roared, throwing a punch with all his might—and then collapsed slightly, breath heaving.
> "Not bad. Watch your footwork next time," Mike said, moving on to another student.
James sat down, panting heavily—but excitement glowed in his eyes.
He brought up his panel again and found the martial art entry:
> Twelve Forms of Military Fist: 56 / 100 (Beginner)
> "My proficiency… increased by 1 point?"
> "If I keep this up a few dozen more times, I'll master it completely—reach the next stage!"
> "But… if I push like this a few dozen times, my body will collapse…"
His arms ached deeply. He shook his head with a wry smile.
Then—his eyes widened.
At the bottom of the panel, a new symbol appeared.
It looked like a twisted sigil made of curved lines—vaguely shaped like a mirror.
As his consciousness focused on it, new text appeared:
> [Gate of All Heavens: 1 / 100 (Capturing…)]
(End of Chapter 2)