{POV RAK}
Rak stood atop a jagged rocky outcropping that jutted above the sea of overgrown golden wheat, arms crossed, red eyes scanning the pathetic chaos below.
The wheat stretched endlessly in every direction wild, untamed, thick enough to swallow a person whole. Stalks as tall as a man swayed in the wind, rustling like whispers. Rocky terrain broke through the growth in patches, creating natural choke points and ambush zones.
Perfect hunting ground.
But the prey was disappointing.
Turtles. Nothing but turtles hiding in the grass.
He'd already crushed seven of them. Pulled them screaming from the wheat where they'd tried to hide like cowards. Challenged them. Broken them.
All of them were weak.
Pathetic.
The wheat rustled below as more turtles fled, leaving trails through the overgrown stalks.
"BORING!" Rak's roar echoed across the field, sending birds scattering from the rocks. "WHERE ARE THE STRONG ONES?!"
More rustling. More fleeing.
Rak snorted in disgust.
This test is a waste of time. There's no one here worth hunting.
He was about to leap down into the wheat and track another group when
Something changed.
A presence.
Sharp. Cold. Dangerous.
It cut through the field like a blade.
Rak's entire body went still.
His pupils dilated.
His hunting instincts honed through years in the wild screamed at him.
Predator.
Not the weak turtles hiding in the wheat.
This was something that hunted in tall grass.
Something that didn't run.
Something that killed.
Rak's lips peeled back, revealing rows of sharp teeth in a feral grin.
Finally.
A worthy hunt.
His heart pounded with excitement the kind of raw, primal thrill he only felt when facing something dangerous.
"THERE YOU ARE!"
Rak leaped down from the outcropping, his massive feet cratering the rocky ground with a thunderous BOOM.
Wheat exploded outward from the impact.
He didn't even glance at the turtles fleeing through the stalks around him.
His eyes were locked forward, tracking that presence.
Where is it?
He crashed through the overgrown wheat like a living battering ram, stalks snapping and scattering in his wake.
And then
The wheat opened into a small clearing among the rocks.
Two figures stood there.
One had blue hair and sharp, calculating eyes a clever-looking turtle.
But the other
Black hair. Golden eyes. Lean build.
Holding a black needle that caught the light like polished death.
Standing calmly in the clearing as if the wild wheat field was his territory.
And the aura around him
Cold. Sharp. Predatory.
Like a wolf standing in tall grass, perfectly still, perfectly lethal.
Rak's grin widened until it split his face.
That's him.
That's the one.
The boy wasn't hiding in the wheat like the other turtles. He stood in the open, unbothered, as if daring something to attack.
And the way he held that needle
Relaxed. Confident.
Like he'd killed with it before.
Rak's entire body trembled with anticipation.
Without hesitation, he stomped forward through the wheat, each step crushing stalks beneath his feet, shaking the rocky ground.
"YOU!"
His voice boomed across the clearing like thunder.
[Baam POV]
Baam was listening to Khun explain the looking for more alliances, something scattered through the wheat field when he heard it.
A voice.
Deep. Loud. Cutting through the sound of wind rustling wheat.
"YOU!"
He stopped mid-sentence and turned.
Wheat stalks exploded apart as a massive figure burst into the clearing.
Oh. Here we go.
A towering reptilian warrior sun-baked scales, burning red eyes, muscles layered like ancient stone. A crimson tunic stretched across his chest, a dark green cloak falling from his shoulders. A long red staff rested casually across one shoulder, gripped in a clawed hand that looked like it could crush bone.
The way he carried that weapon comfortable, experienced, deadly.
Baam felt that familiar disconnect.
The alligator. The battle-obsessed hunter who calls everyone "turtles."
In the panels, he'd been comedic.
In reality?
Intimidating.
Beside him, Khun's expression shifted calculation replacing casual conversation.
"That's..." Khun's voice was measured, cautious. "...a problem."
His blue eyes swept over the massive figure analytically.
"Reptilian species. Probably a warrior breed. That weapon's seen combat." Khun's tone dropped. "And he's looking at you like you're dinner."
Baam felt that familiar disconnect—watching a manhwa character become flesh and blood.
The alligator. The battle-obsessed hunter who calls everyone "turtles."
In the panels, he'd been comedic.
In reality?
Beside him, Khun's expression shifted—calculation replacing casual conversation.
"That's..." Khun's voice was measured, cautious. "...a problem."
His blue eyes swept over the massive figure analytically.
"Reptilian species. Probably a warrior breed. That weapon's seen combat." Khun's tone dropped. "And he's looking at you like you're dinner."
Baam glanced at him.
Khun's analyzing him in real-time. Smart.
But he doesn't know who this is yet.
Rak stopped at the edge of the clearing, ten feet away, planting his feet wide among the crushed stalks. The staff shifted slightly on his shoulders.
"YOU!" Rak pointed one massive, clawed finger at him. "I can smell it on you!"
Baam raised an eyebrow.
Smell what?
"You killed someone. Recently." Rak's burning red eyes gleamed. "I can smell the blood. The death."
His voice dropped, becoming almost reverent.
"You're no turtle hiding in the grass. You're a hunter."
He lifted the red staff off his shoulders, gripping it with both hands now, his scaled muscles tensing.
"FIGHT ME!"
The demand echoed across the wheat field.
Around the clearing, wheat rustled other Regulars watching from hiding, too afraid to reveal themselves.
Khun took a half-step back, eyes never leaving the reptilian warrior.
"Baam," Khun said quietly, urgently. "We should move. Now. The wheat is thick enough to"
"I'll fight you," Baam said calmly.
Khun's head snapped toward him. "Are you insane?! Look at him!"
But Rak's burning red eyes blazed with pure joy.
"FINALLY!" His voice was a roar of triumph. "A turtle with GUTS!"
He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground, cracking the rocky earth.
"My name is Rak Wraithraiser! Greatest hunter in the Tower!"
He crouched low, his scaled body coiling like a spring, staff held ready.
"Remember it before I crush you, prey!"
Baam raised Black March, holding it in a loose, relaxed grip.
The world stilled.
His heartbeat slowed.
His mind sharpened.
"25th Baam."
Rak's burning red eyes locked onto him, measuring, calculating.
Then his jagged teeth showed in a predator's grin.
"Good name for prey! Now"
His legs tensed.
Muscles coiled beneath sun-baked scales.
"LET'S HUNT!"
And he launched himself forward like a living avalanche.
Rak launched himself forward like a living avalanche.
The ground cracked beneath his feet.
Wheat exploded outward from the sheer force of his movement.
His massive frame closed the distance in seconds staff raised high, ready to bring it down with crushing force.
Time didn't slow.
Baam simply saw.
Every muscle contraction. Every shift in weight. Every micro-movement that telegraphed Rak's intent.
Overhead strike. Full commitment. Massive power but predictable trajectory.
Dodge left. Counter from below.
Baam's body moved.
Not frantically.
Not desperately.
Smoothly. Efficiently. Like water flowing around a stone.
He sidestepped.
The red staff came down like a falling mountain.
CRACK.
The ground where Baam had been standing exploded—rock shattered, earth cratered, wheat vaporized in a cloud of dust and debris.
Khun's eyes widened from the edge of the clearing.
"That force..."
If that had connected, Baam would have been pulverized.
But it didn't connect.
Rak's burning red eyes tracked Baam's movement, surprise flickering across his reptilian face.
"Fast turtle!"
He swung the staff horizontally a sweeping arc meant to catch Baam mid-dodge.
The world stilled in Baam's mind.
No panic. No fear. Just crystalline clarity.
He saw the arc. Calculated the timing. Adjusted.
Baam dropped low, staff whistling over his head by inches.
The wind pressure alone was violent enough to flatten the wheat behind him.
He's strong. Incredibly strong.
But strength without precision is just wasted energy.
Baam pivoted, Black March flashing forward in a precise thrust aimed at Rak's exposed ribs
CLANG.
Rak twisted his staff down, intercepting the needle with reflexes that should have been impossible for something his size.
Their weapons locked for a split second.
Baam felt the sheer weight behind Rak's strength like trying to move a mountain.
He's not just strong. He's experienced.
A real hunter.
Rak grinned, jagged teeth gleaming.
"Good!" His voice was a growl of approval. "You're no ordinary turtle!"
He pushed.
The force sent Baam sliding backward through the dirt, boots carving trenches in the earth.
But Baam didn't lose balance.
He let the momentum carry him, using it to create distance.
{Analyzing combat patterns...} {Entity demonstrates high physical strength, moderate speed, combat experience.} {Weakness identified: Predictable attack patterns. Heavy commitment to each strike.} {Recommendation: Counter-attack during recovery frames.}
Thanks, System. I already figured that out.
Rak charged again this time faster, angrier, excited.
He swung the staff in a horizontal slash.
Baam ducked.
Another overhead strike.
Baam sidestepped.
A sweeping low attack aimed at his legs.
Baam jumped, the staff passing beneath his feet.
Every movement was controlled. Efficient. Wasting no energy.
Rak's attacks were overwhelming each one capable of shattering bone but they followed patterns.
High. Horizontal. Low. Repeat.
He fights on instinct. No formal training. Just raw talent and experience.
That makes him dangerous... but predictable.
Baam landed lightly, eyes never leaving Rak.
"WHY WON'T YOU ATTACK?!" Rak roared, frustration mixing with excitement. "FIGHT ME, PREY!"
Baam's golden eyes remained calm.
"I am fighting you."
"NO! YOU'RE RUNNING LIKE A TURTLE!"
Rak slammed his staff into the ground.
BOOM.
The earth exploded outward—rocks, dirt, and wheat erupting in a violent shockwave.
Baam leaped backward, debris scattering around him.
When the dust cleared
Rak was closer.
Much closer.
His burning red eyes locked onto Baam with predatory focus.
"Enough running," Rak growled. "Show me your fangs, hunter."
For a moment, silence fell over the clearing.
The wind rustled through the damaged wheat.
Khun watched from the edge, completely still, barely breathing.
"He's been... analyzing him," Khun realized. "This entire time. He hasn't attacked once. Just dodged. Studied. Learned his patterns."
A slow smile curved Khun's lips.
"He's not fighting. He's dismantling him."
Baam exhaled slowly.
He wants me to attack. To prove I'm worth fighting.
Fine.
Baam's grip on Black March tightened.
And for the first time since the fight began
He moved forward.
Not defensively.
Offensively.
Rak's eyes widened slightly.
Then blazed with joy.
"FINALLY!"
He swung his staff down with crushing force.
Baam didn't dodge.
He moved into the attack.
Black March flashed upward, deflecting the staff just enough to redirect its trajectory, the heavy weapon slamming into the ground beside him instead of on top of him.
And in that split second
While Rak's weapon was committed.
While his guard was open.
While his momentum carried him forward
Baam stepped inside his reach.
Black March thrust forward.
Straight. Precise. Aimed at the exposed gap between Rak's ribs.
Too close to block. Too fast to dodge.
Rak's burning red eyes widened.
For the first time
Surprise.
The needle drove forward
And stopped.
One inch from Rak's scaled skin.
Baam held it there, perfectly still, perfectly controlled.
Their eyes met.
"I win," Baam said quietly.
Silence.
Rak stared at the needle hovering at his ribs.
Then at Baam.
Then he threw his head back and laughed a booming, genuine sound that echoed across the wheat field.
"HAHAHAHA!" Rak's entire body shook with mirth. "YES! YES! YOU ARE A HUNTER!"
He stepped back, planting his staff into the ground, grinning wildly.
"You didn't run! You studied me! Waited for the perfect moment! Then struck!"
His burning red eyes gleamed with respect.
"That's how a TRUE hunter fights!"
Baam lowered Black March slowly.
Rak crossed his arms, still grinning.
"You're strong, turtle. Stronger than you look."
He tilted his head.
"What's your name again?"
"25th Baam."
"Baam," Rak repeated, nodding slowly. "Good name. I like you, Baam."
He turned his burning gaze to Khun, who'd been watching silently from the edge.
"And you, blue turtle! You're with him?"
Khun blinked, then regained his composure.
"...Yes. We're on the same team."
Rak grunted.
"Then I'm joining your team."
Khun's eyebrow raised. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," Rak said matter-of-factly. "Baam is a strong hunter. I want to fight alongside strong hunters."
He slammed his fist into his chest.
"Besides, hunting alone is boring. Hunting with a pack is better!"
Khun glanced at Baam, clearly skeptical.
Baam met his gaze and shrugged slightly.
In the original story, we tricked Rak into joining.
This time, he just... decided on his own.
Khun sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. Welcome to the team... uh..."
"Rak Wraithraiser!" Rak declared proudly. "Greatest hunter in the Tower!"
"Right. Rak." Khun's tone was dry. "Try not to fight every Regular we meet."
Rak laughed.
"No promises, blue turtle!"
Baam looked between them.
Khun Aguero Agnes. Rak Wraithraiser.
The team is forming... differently than the original story.
But it's forming.
He glanced down at Black March.
The needle pulsed faintly, warmly.
And I didn't have to kill anyone to earn Rak's respect.
Just prove I'm worth fighting.
A faint smile tugged at Baam's lips.
Maybe... this won't be so bad.
Then a voice echoed across the wheat field—loud, commanding, impossible to ignore.
"ATTENTION, ALL REGULARS."
Everyone froze.
The voice came from everywhere at once—the sky, the rocks, the wheat itself. Like the Tower was speaking directly into their minds.
"CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE SURVIVED."
A pause.
"THERE ARE 200 REMAINING REGULARS."
The voice continued, calm and detached.
"AMONG THOSE WHO REMAIN, FIND TWO REGULARS TO BE YOUR TEAMMATES."
"IN SHORT, THIS TEST IS... TO MAKE A TEAM OF THREE."
Rak perked up. "Team? What's a team?"
Khun's expression shifted, flickering across his face.
"A team of three," Khun muttered. "Well, that saves us the time of looking for people."
He glanced between Baam and Rak.
"We already have three."
Baam said nothing, but inwardly
In the original story, things weren't this easy for the main characters.
There was chaos. Fighting. Desperation.
But this time...
He glanced at Rak, who was grinning wildly, then at Khun, who looked almost bored.
...we're already set.
The voice continued.
"THE TIME LIMIT IS FIVE MINUTES."
Khun's eyebrow raised. "Five minutes? That's generous."
"Five minutes?!" Rak roared. "That's nothing! I could hunt ten turtles in five minutes!"
"STARTING NOW, MAKE A TEAM OF THREE."
"AND IF YOU DO NOT FORM A TEAM WITHIN FIVE MINUTES... YOU ARE ELIMINATED."
Around them, the wheat field exploded into chaos.
Regulars burst from hiding, shouting, running, desperately searching for teammates.
Some begged.
Some threatened.
Some fought.
The voice added one final detail.
"TO BE CONSIDERED A TEAM, YOU MUST BE TOUCHING SOME PART OF YOUR TEAMMATES' BODIES WHEN THE TIME LIMIT ENDS."
A pause.
"GOOD LUCK."
Silence fell for a single heartbeat.
Then the screaming began.
Khun watched the chaos unfold with a detached, analytical expression.
Test Floor indeed...
What a difficult test.
His eyes scanned the panicking Regulars.
To make a team of three in five minutes, you have to team up with those nearby...
But the ones nearby are the ones you were fighting with right before the first test ended.
His lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
Which means, to make a team in five minutes...
...is to turn your enemies into allies.
Or die trying.
He glanced at Baam and Rak.
"Lucky for us," Khun said dryly, "we don't have to go through the stress of convincing anyone. Especially not the crocodile."
"I'M NOT A CROCODILE! I'M AN ALLIGATOR!" Rak roared indignantly.
Baam's lips twitched slightly.
Seems like Rak is easier to work with than I thought.
No manipulation needed. No tricks. Just respect.
Around them, Regulars were forming desperate alliances—some successful, some collapsing into violence.
But their team stood calmly in the clearing.
Already complete.
Baam exhaled slowly, then spoke inwardly.
System.
{Yes, Host?}
Can I check my stats?
{Accessing Host Status...}
A translucent screen materialized before his eyes.
{Host Status}
Name: 25th Baam
Rank: None
Attributes:
God of Combat (SSS-Rank) [Passive]Absolute Shinsu Authority (SSS-Rank) [Active]
Skills:
Calm of the Abyss (A+-Rank) [Passive]
Equipment:
Black March (B-Rank, Unignited) [Compatibility: 48%]Pocket (A-Rank)
Baam studied the screen carefully.
Rank: None.
So I'm still at the very bottom in terms of official Tower ranking.
But my attributes...
His eyes lingered on the SSS-Rank designations.
God of Combat. Absolute Shinsu Authority.
Those alone put me leagues above most Regulars.
And Calm of the Abyss...
He thought back to the fight with Rak—how his mind had remained crystal clear even when facing overwhelming force.
It's already proven invaluable.
His gaze shifted to Black March.
Compatibility: 48%.
It's increasing. The more I fight, the more she accepts me.
He dismissed the screen.
I'm strong. But not invincible.
There are Rankers. High Rankers. Zahard Princesses. Floor Guardians.
"Hey, black turtle!" Rak's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Stop standing there like a rock! We won already!"
Khun glanced at him. "He's right. The test is over for us. We just need to wait out the timer."
Baam nodded.
"STARTING NOW, MAKE A TEAM OF THREE."
"AND IF YOU DO NOT FORM A TEAM WITHIN FIVE MINUTES... YOU ARE ELIMINATED."
Around them, the wheat field exploded into chaos.
Regulars burst from hiding, shouting, running, desperately searching for teammates.
"I'll team with you!"
"NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME!"
"PLEASE! I NEED TWO MORE—"
A scream cut off abruptly.
Some begged. Some threatened. Some fought.
The voice added one final detail.
"TO BE CONSIDERED A TEAM, YOU MUST BE TOUCHING SOME PART OF YOUR TEAMMATES' BODIES WHEN THE TIME LIMIT ENDS."
A pause.
"GOOD LUCK."
Silence fell for a single heartbeat.
Then the screaming intensified.
Khun watched the chaos unfold with a detached, analytical expression.
Making enemies into allies in five minutes.
His eyes scanned the panicking Regulars.
The ones nearby are the ones you were just fighting. The ones who wanted to kill you.
His lips curved into a faint, cold smile.
Brutal. But clever.
He glanced at Baam and Rak.
"Lucky for us," Khun said dryly, "we don't have to go through that stress. Especially not with the alligator here."
"I'M NOT AN ALLIGATOR! I'M RAK WRAITHRAISER!" Rak roared indignantly.
Baam's lips twitched slightly.
No manipulation needed.
Around them, desperate alliances formed and collapsed. Violence erupted in pockets across the field. But their team stood calmly in the clearing, already complete.
Time: 3:47
A Regular sprinted past them, wild-eyed, searching.
Time: 4:23
Screaming. Fighting. Pleading.
Time: 4:58
Two Regulars grabbed a third by force, dragging him into their group despite his protests.
Time: 5:00
"TIME'S UP."
The voice echoed across the field with finality.
Baam, Khun, and Rak stood together in their clearing, hands clasped.
Rak's massive hand engulfed Baam's. Khun's grip was firm and confident.
"TEAMS CONFIRMED. SURVIVORS, PROCEED TO THE CENTRAL LOCATION."
The wheat field shimmered—and suddenly, the world shifted.
Location: Evankhell's Floor - Rest Area
Baam blinked as the teleportation completed.
They stood in a massive indoor space—clean white floors, high ceilings, artificial lighting that felt too bright after the open wheat field.
And Regulars.
Lots of them.
Khun's eyes swept the room analytically, counting.
"Looks like 120 Regulars passed," he muttered.
Out of 200.
40 teams.
Baam's stomach rumbled.
"I'm starving," he admitted.
Khun raised an eyebrow, then reached into his blue bag.
He pulled out a chocolate bar and tossed it to Baam.
"Here you go."
Baam caught it, surprised.
"Thanks."
Khun pulled out another one and held it toward Rak.
"Here, gator."
"HEY! IT'S RAK!" the alligator shouted indignantly.
But he snatched the chocolate bar from Khun's hand anyway and bit into it wrapper and all.
His eyes widened.
"Wow! This is yummy!" Rak's tail swished excitedly. "Can I have some more?"
Khun shrugged and reached into his bag again.
"Sure."
He pulled out another chocolate bar.
Then another.
Then another.
Rak's eyes lit up. "YOU HAVE MORE?!"
"I have as many as you want," Khun said casually, tossing them to Rak one by one. "This bag duplicates whatever I put inside it."
"INFINITE CHOCOLATE?!" Rak looked like he'd discovered the meaning of life. "BLUE TURTLE, YOU ARE A GENIUS!"
Khun smirked. "I know."
Watching this play out, Baam unwrapped his chocolate bar and took a bite.
Sweet. Rich. Simple.
Khun's bag... that's the Manbarondenna. One of his most useful tools.
Infinite supplies. Infinite ammunition if he needs it.
No wonder he's so prepared for everything.
This is the life I always wanted.
He'd read about this moment countless times. The camaraderie. The banter. The team dynamic between Baam, Khun, and Rak.
I used to wish I could be here.
And now...
He glanced at Khun, who was fending off Rak's demands for more chocolate.
...I am.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Maybe being isekai'd isn't so bad after all.
{New Quest Assigned} {Objective: Clear the 2nd Floor Tests} {Reward: ???}
Baam dismissed the notification without looking at it.
One step at a time.
Nearby, two Regulars started arguing.
"Hey! Look at what you did to my arm!" one shouted, shoving the other.
"So?" The second Regular shoved back. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"You motherfucker—"
He grabbed the other's shirt, fist raised.
Then a voice cut through the tension.
Deep. Calm. Authoritative.
"Hey. Fighting is prohibited here."
Everyone turned.
A man stood at the edge of the room—tall, lean, with neat brown hair and sharp eyes. He looked relaxed, hands resting casually on his waist, but there was something about his presence that demanded attention.
"Who are you?!" the angry Regular snapped.
The man smiled faintly.
"I'm the test administrator. My name is Lero Ro."
The room went quiet.
"An administrator?" someone whispered. "Then... you're a Ranker?"
"That's right," Lero Ro said calmly.
And then
Water.
It poured out from nowhere not like a flood, but like an ocean suddenly appearing in the room.
Thick. Heavy. Oppressive.
Shinsu.
Baam felt it immediately.
{Warning: High-density Shinsu detected.} {Pressure Level: Moderate}
It washed over him like a wave.
But it didn't push him.
It felt like... swimming in an ocean. Natural. Familiar.
No resistance.
Around him, Regulars screamed.
Bodies were flung backward some slammed into walls, others collapsed to their knees, gasping for air as if drowning on dry land.
Khun gritted his teeth, feet sliding backward slightly, but he held his ground.
Rak crouched low, muscles straining, but he didn't move either.
"This... pressure...!" Rak growled.
But Baam?
He stood perfectly still.
Unaffected.
The Shinsu passed around him like water around a stone.
{SSS-Rank Attribute: Absolute Shinsu Authority - Passive Effect Active}
Lero Ro's eyes widened.
"...What?"
His gaze locked onto Baam the only Regular standing completely unbothered in the center of the room.
"Hey," Baam said calmly, meeting Lero Ro's shocked stare. "I said I don't get pushed out."
Lero Ro stared at him in silence.
Then spoke slowly.
"So... what now?"
Baam tilted his head slightly.
"What now?"
Lero Ro's expression shifted surprise giving way to something like realization.
"You passed," he said quietly.
A pause.
"Perhaps it was my mistake, Lero Ro," the Ranker muttered to himself. "But that would be luck as well."
His tone was nonchalant, but his eyes never left Baam.
Around the room, Regulars who'd been pushed back started shouting.
"That's not fair!"
"How did he?!"
"This test is rigged!"
Then Rak's booming voice cut through the complaints.
"OF COURSE MY BLACK TURTLE PASSED! HE'S THE ONE WHO DEFEATED ME!"
The room went silent.
Defeated... him?
Eyes turned toward Baam with new fear. New respect.
Khun watched quietly from the side, arms crossed.
I knew this guy was special.
His sharp blue eyes studied Baam carefully.
But I didn't expect him to be THIS special.
He was standing right beside both of us... and didn't get pushed back at all.
How did he do that?
Khun's mind raced.
Shinsu resistance. At this level. On the Second Floor.
That's...
His eyes narrowed.
...impossible.
Unless...
He glanced at the Black March resting against Baam's shoulder.
Is it the weapon? Or is it him?
Lero Ro stood in silence, still staring at Baam.
His expression was unreadable.
But inwardly
A monster has arrived.
He'd tested thousands of Regulars over the years.
Some had Shinsu resistance.
Some had natural talent.
But this?
Standing in the center of a Ranker's Shinsu pressure without even flinching?
That's not normal.
That's not even remotely normal.