Kendo was surprised to see Jin at the dojo, and what surprised her even more was how much weight he had lost. She didn't even recognize him for a second. It had almost been a month since she had last seen him, and he had changed so much in that short span of time. His face was leaner but still bit chubby, his posture different—there was a quiet intensity about him now that hadn't been there before. She couldn't help but wonder what had motivated this sudden transformation. But then again, it didn't really matter. As long as it was for the better, she thought, it was a good thing for him.
Jin had returned with her father, dressed in a karate gi, and was ready to join their practice. It was clear he had a new resolve in his eyes, something that Kendo could sense even before he stepped onto the mat.
The day passed in a blur of training, with Jin pushing himself to catch up with the others. Kendo couldn't help but watch him from the corner of her eye, her thoughts briefly drifting to how quickly he had changed. It was like someone had lit a fire under him. She wasn't sure how to feel about it—was it the right thing for him to be pursuing martial arts so seriously? But if he was willing to put in the work, then who was she to judge? The dojo was a place for personal growth, after all.
Later that evening, after I returned home from the dojo, the quiet stillness of my room allowed me to reflect on the day. I leaned back against my bed, still in my gi, and began to think about the practice at the dojo. What we had worked on felt familiar—many of the stances and techniques reminded me of the basic forms I'd learned from the system. But there were differences. The dojo was using only some of those forms, not all of them.
I wasn't sure why that was, but it didn't matter. They seemed to focus on efficiency, building strength and discipline rather than mastering every single form. It made sense—martial arts was more than just learning techniques; it was about applying them with skill and intent.
After dinner, I sat on my bed, opened the system's shop, and browsed through the available books. I had accumulated a little gold, but nothing compared to the costs of the more advanced techniques. I had a long way to go, but it was a start. I decided to purchase a book that seemed practical enough for where I was at the moment.
I brought the Flowing River Technique book from the system's shop for 1000 gold. It was the only technique I could afford, and it seemed like a good starting point. The more advanced techniques were all priced in the tens of thousands of gold, which felt like an unreachable goal for now. But I couldn't be discouraged. Every journey began with small steps, and I would just have to accumulate more gold slowly, one mission at a time.
I took a deep breath and began to focus on the task ahead.
The Flowing River Technique involved refining the energy I absorbed from the environment using Energy and conduit skill, purging any impure energy from it and storing the refined energy in my lower daitain. The process seemed simple in theory, but it was much more difficult in practice. I closed my eyes and began to gather the energy within me, feeling it scattered across my body. I was supposed to channel the energy using the ki pathways and refine it before storing it.
It was hard at first, like trying to contain water with your hands. But after a while, I started to feel the faintest stirrings of energy within my daitain. It wasn't much—just a small fraction of what I had absorbed—but it was enough to show that the technique was working.
An hour passed, and I finally managed to gather a tiny bit of refined energy in my daitain. For every 100 energy I had absorbed using the Energy Conduit skill, I was able to store about 10 of it in its pure form. But it came at a price. The impure energy, the black sludge that was released from my pores, was something I hadn't anticipated. It oozed out of my skin and clung to my clothes. The sight of it made my stomach churn.
Panicking, I immediately threw my clothes off and discarded them. I couldn't let my mother find out what I was doing—I couldn't explain it. I quickly grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom to take a long, cleansing shower.
The water washed away the remnants of the impure energy, and I stood there for a while, just letting the warmth soak into my muscles. I felt a strange kind of relief. I wasn't sure how I felt about this process yet, but it was working. Slowly, but surely, I was starting to feel the difference in my body. I would have to refine this technique over time, but I was confident that it would get better with practice.
The following months passed by quicker than I expected. The daily grind of training, studying, and refining my techniques became my new normal. My routine had changed significantly. Every morning, I would wake up early to complete the system's daily mission of physical training. The difficulty of the missions had doubled after two months, but I pushed through. Afterward, I'd practice the basic martial arts stances in a nearby park, the cool morning air filling my lungs as I concentrated on my movements.
School was always a blur. I focused as best I could, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the growing power inside me. After school, I'd head straight to Kendo's dojo, where I continued my training. The dojo was like a second home now, and I couldn't help but feel more grounded with every day that passed.
Finally, after dinner, I would sit in the bathtub naked and spend an hour practicing the Flowing River Technique, refining the energy I had gathered that day, before taking a bath, exhausted but satisfied. My body had grown stronger, my mind sharper, and my resolve firmer.
This had become my routine. It was slow and steady, but I was determined. With each passing day, I was becoming someone different—someone stronger. And I could feel it. Change was coming, and it was only a matter of time before I would be ready for whatever lay ahead.