Chapter 68: You Perverted Planet Ero Alien
"Hm hm, lots of fighting spirit—I really like boys with that kind of drive. All right, it's still morning. Before lunch, let's start with the most basic warm-up training. You can do push-ups, right?"
"Of course I can."
Akisame nodded in satisfaction at Takumi's quick reply.
"Then begin, young man. Start with ten thousand as a light warm-up."
"Hah? Ten thousand?!"
Takumi went blank. Anything hitting five digits was insane. Before his two skill boosts, years of enduring fights with his little sister only let him scrape together a hundred with pride. Even boosted, a thousand was brutal—ten thousand was astronomical.
"What's wrong? Too few? Sigh… youngsters these days, don't hold back on yourself. We've got a full hundred days anyway."
"No, that's not—"
Before Takumi could finish protesting, Akisame's eyes lit up like he'd just remembered something.
"Oh, right. You're here to train your body—no cheating with ki. Let me seal it first."
In a flash faster than the eye could follow, his finger tapped Takumi's forehead. Instantly the faint demonic current from his engraved mark shut off.
"What the hell is this?!"
"I used a ki-intercepting finger technique to seal your innate 'ki.' Don't worry—innate ki is a form of 'spirit.' Once your body grows strong enough and your blood-qi condenses into the dantian, internal ki will be born. The body is essence, blood-qi is energy; unite them and you create wave motion. It'll break through my seal. Uniting essence, energy, and spirit will benefit your future greatly."
You've gotta be kidding… so for the next hundred days I'm stuck at plain third-dan black belt karate?! Oh my god. Takumi wailed inwardly, but he didn't argue. He just dropped to the ground and started pumping push-ups.
"Master, what are you doing sitting on me?!"
The second Takumi went prone, Akisame plopped his full weight right onto Takumi's spine. Thirty-eight years old, eighty kilos—Takumi nearly flattened.
"What? I told you: weighted push-ups. Unweighted ones are for children."
"Where the hell do you find a kid who can do ten thousand push-ups?! Are you talking about Clark Kent or Son Goku?!"
Takumi mentally raged but forced himself to keep going. The two boosts had made his physique decent, yet after three hundred he was already dying. Ten thousand felt like a galaxy away.
"Master, I can't anymore…"
"Only three hundred and you're done? I don't recall training any disciples this weak."
"Ughhh, Master! You're supposed to be my first teacher—shouldn't we progress gradually?!"
"Hm, true. But those were ordinary kids. You have potential for 21-dan. You can't be this fragile. Hurry up, or morning will pass and you won't get any of Miu's cooking. Ryōzanpaku rule: disciples who don't finish training get no food."
"Since when was that a rule?! I'm the only new guy here today!"
"Mm. Just made it up."
"Waaah, this is bullying!"
"…998, 999, 1000…"
Takumi gritted his teeth through a thousand. His arms had gone numb, but he knew this was day one's first task—it would shape the next hundred days and every grandmaster's impression of him. No stopping. He didn't even have energy left to talk.
"…2777, 3900, 4000…"
At four thousand he was gasping, sweat beads the size of soybeans splashing the ground and soaking a wide patch. His willpower hit the wall, yet he refused to quit. He switched to self-hypnosis from the hypnotic techniques.
I can do this. I have third-tier strength—even without mana I can explode with power. Ten thousand push-ups are nothing!
Akisame sat steady as a mountain on Takumi's back, statue-still. As a martial arts grandmaster he could "listen" through every inch of contact—reading muscle shifts, force direction, power flow. He clearly felt every fiber in Takumi trembling. A faint smile curved his lips.
"Akisame-sensei, why are you smiling?"
"Nothing. This kid's got impressive will. I only said ten thousand as a joke, yet he's kept going the whole time. Ha, and he's using self-hypnosis too. Knows quite a bit."
"Eh? Getting praised for willpower by Akisame-sensei—that's really rare."
Blonde with violet eyes, Fuurinji Miu looked surprised. She watched Takumi mechanically rise and fall, every muscle bulging under extreme strain. Major tendons stood out like taut bowstrings on his skin, ready to snap at any second.
"What brings you here?"
"Mm, there's a patient at the clinic. Ma-sensei got chased by Shigure-neesan again and is hiding. Grandpa wants you to head over."
"I see. Well, that works."
Akisame stood, then patted Takumi's back.
"Wake up. Did you fall asleep mid-push-up?"
The slap yanked Takumi out of self-hypnosis. Every bone creaked, every tendon felt like steel wire cutting in, every inch of skin ballooning with unbearable pressure. Incomprehensible pain forced a groan from him. But with Akisame gone it felt like a mountain had lifted off—agonizing, yet a huge relief. Wrists screamed with each rep, but somehow he found extra strength and kept pumping.
"…7777, 7778…"
"Miu, I'm heading to the clinic. Take over weighting for me."
"Eh? Me?!"
"Yes. You look lighter, but your weight should be about the same as mine, right?"
"Th-that's… so rude! I've trained martial arts since I was little, but I'm still just a first-year high-school girl! How could I possibly weigh as much as you?!"
Miu bristled like a cat with its tail stepped on, claws out.
Akisame rubbed his chin.
"Fifty kilos and eighty kilos are pretty close, aren't they? Ancient China had that saying—half a catty and eight liang, right?"
"That's way off! The old catty and modern ones aren't the same at all! And why do you even know my weight?!"
"Mm, old Ma told me."
"Kuso! Today I'm definitely teaming up with Shigure-neesan to teach that old pervert a lesson!"
Miu's pretty face flushed crimson. Akisame laughed heartily.
"I'm off then."
Still red-faced, Miu saw Takumi twisting his head mid-push-up—clearly he'd overheard everything. She hurriedly snapped,
"Takumi! Forget everything you just heard! Otherwise I'll use the Miu-style Memory Loss Technique to make you forget!"
"Miu-style Memory Loss? What's that—uh, got it, I'll forget!"
Seeing her fist clench, Takumi wisely shut up. He suspected it was the same "beat-you-until-you-forget" amnesia move from that certain confused-butler manga. Miu sighed in relief, then stepped lightly over. She bit her lower lip, eyeing Takumi's sweat-drenched back. His form was textbook perfect—no spinal sag at all. He looked more like a fine stallion.
"Cough… excuse me, Kouichi."
With that she slowly lowered herself onto his back. Even with most of his senses numb, Takumi clearly felt the soft, yielding warmth of her rear pressing down. His mind jolted awake. Back when he first started he'd fantasized about grabbing that perfect peach just to test its bounce—now he was getting the full intimate contact! Butt sensations really were the best! His eyes went bloodshot, breaths turning ragged like he'd been injected with adrenaline. He pushed even harder.
Smack!
"Ah~!"
Out of nowhere Miu produced a stick and whacked his butt hard. Takumi accidentally let out a yelp. He wasn't a masochist, but a beauty sitting on him and spanking him? Way too stimulating!
"Your hip movements are way too lewd!!! You Planet Ero alien!!!"
Miu's face burned as she shouted. The moment she sat down, Takumi's perfect push-up form had warped into some filthy sun-earth thrusting motion. She was mortified and furious.
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