Inside Leon's house , Leon sat shirtless on the cold wooden floor of his room. His once lean frame was now beginning to show signs of strength-muscles slightly more defined, his body slowly adapting. He sat cross-legged in a lotus position, taking slow, deep breaths.
Steam rose faintly from his body.
Each breath was rhythmic, controlled-his mind focused.
Within his consciousness, he visualized his body glowing in a faint blue hue. The surrounding void was pitch black, but amidst it, particles of bright red energy swirled like fireflies in slow motion. As he focused, the particles drifted toward his palms, gathering into glowing red dots at the center of each.
"The Endless Evolution Technique..."
"...is not about force, but belief."
This technique-unlike traditional cultivation-relied entirely on one's ability to visualize, believe, and guide their inner evolution. And for each person, it was different.
The red dots pulsed once, then dimmed as Leon opened his eyes.
"I guess... this much is my limit for now, huh..."
It had been two weeks since he had transmigrated back into his 18-year-old body. Two weeks of silence, of hiding, of trying to regain a sense of control.
Leon stood up and stretched. After a quick shower, he changed into a long, dark coat with a detachable hoodie, a white T-shirt beneath, and fitted gray jeans. He paused at his grandmother's door-she was still sleeping peacefully. The house was dark, with all the lights off, blanketed in the stillness of early dawn.
(Writers note: bro fashion modal)
He slipped on his shoes and quietly shut the front door behind him.
Outside, the morning air was crisp. The cold breeze wrapped around him like a cloak, but it wasn't unpleasant-it carried with it a strange energy, one that almost erased fatigue.
Leon walked down the empty street as the sun rose over the hills, casting a golden hue across the pavement.
His thoughts wandered.
"It's been two weeks since I came back to the past...
While everything feels the same, too many secrets linger-
Why were my parents really killed? What was that symbol in the journal?
And this technique... as useful as it is, it's not enough."
"I need battle experience. In my last life, I fought monsters, endured bloodshed...
Here, there's nothing. Not yet."
Joggers passed him by, lost in their own morning routines-wearing tracksuits, headphones, and carefree smiles. The world was still normal. Peaceful. Unaware of the disaster to come.
By the time his thoughts reached their peak, Leon had already arrived at the park. The wind was still. The air, heavy. A few leaves rustled, carried by the fading sun as it bled through the trees. Silent and solitary, he stepped into the clearing and removed his black coat, folding it neatly over the park bench.
This was his ritual.
He closed his eyes and whispered the name of his martial path-a martial art he learnt as a soldier in his past life.
"Formic Tyrant Fist."
A martial art born from observing one of nature's smallest yet most unstoppable creatures: the ant. Patient. Tireless. Strong beyond logic. From the ant, Leon drew purpose.
---
First Technique - "Carapace Like an Ant"
"The world may strike, but nothing enters the shell I wear."
He visualized an invisible armor coating his skin-a hardened exoskeleton. It wasn't about flexing muscle, but hardening the spirit. His outer body became a living shell.
→ Defensive visualization technique; increases pain resistance and enhances body control.
---
Second Technique - "Mandible Crush"
"Precision is power. Grip, and never let go."
Leon snapped forward, his hand clenched like serrated jaws. He struck with short, crushing blows-his fingers mimicking the mandibles of a soldier ant.
→ A grappling and locking strike technique that dislocates or immobilizes through bone pressure.
---
Third Technique - "Six-Legged March"
"No retreat. No hesitation. Forward-always."
His feet danced, unnatural and inhuman. Steps came in six-pattern bursts, twisting at odd angles, unpredictable. It was like watching multiple limbs march in sync.
→ A chaotic footwork system inspired by the six legs of an ant; excellent for dodging and overwhelming opponents.
---
Fourth Technique - "Burrowing Strike"
"When walls rise, dig beneath them."
Leon dropped low, palm brushing the ground. With explosive force, he launched upward, his fist digging through the air with twisting torque.
→ A rising, corkscrew punch that mimics how ants burrow into the earth-used to break defense from below or strike weak points.
---
Fifth Technique - "Firm Stand"
"Shake the world if you must-but I will not move."
He planted both feet wide, legs like rooted trunks. Even the wind seemed to bend around him.
→ A stance-based defense technique that maximizes balance, stability, and counters knockback. Perfect for absorbing heavy attacks.
---
Sixth Technique - "Swarming Rampage"
"I am not alone-I am the swarm."
He unleashed a barrage of punches, elbows, shoulders, knees-nonstop, overwhelming. It was less about power and more about volume, like being devoured by a colony.
→ A relentless combo technique meant to overwhelm the enemy with speed and quantity.
---
Seventh Technique - "Formic Fist"
"Even the tiniest can shake the heavens."
Leon stepped forward. Every ounce of strength, breathing, and balance focused into his strike.
With a deep breath, he slammed his fist into a thick metal pole.
CRACK.
Steel twisted and buckled under his blow, the pole bent nearly in half. The concrete base quaked. Dust rose around him like steam.
He stood still, chest rising and falling.
"Haaa... alas, still too weak,"
Leon muttered, disappointment creeping into his voice.
He took his black coat and wore it
Slowly, he slid both hands into the pockets of his long black coat. With a final glance at the broken pole, he turned and walked away beneath the fading sky.
To be continued...