The dawn of the second day at Ryōzanpaku brought a fresh layer of intensity.
Lucifer's Healing Factor had worked through the night, knitting together torn ligaments and soothing the deep bone-bruises from the Elder's conditioning.
He stood in the center of the courtyard, his body feeling strange—denser, more grounded, and hyper-aware of his own center of gravity.
Akisame Koetsuji stepped forward, but he wasn't alone.
Apachai Hopachai, the towering Muay Thai master, was shadowboxing in the corner, his punches creating miniature sonic booms.
"Your durability is proven,"
Akisame said, his voice a calm contrast to Apachai's explosive energy.
"But defense without a decisive counter is merely a slow way to lose. You rely on your strange power to crush things, but you lack the physical strength to make it truly unavoidable. Today, you begin Hakai No Ken (Fist of Destruction)."
"Hakai No Ken is not just about strength,"
Apachai boomed, suddenly appearing in front of a massive stone pillar.
"It is about the explosion! You must make your body a bomb!"
With a roar, Apachai lunged, his fist connecting with the stone.
The pillar didn't just crack; it disintegrated into dust.
Lucifer's Fundamental Insight analyzed the strike.
It wasn't just kinetic energy; it was a perfect synchronization of muscle, bone alignment, and internal ki focus.
If he could layer Void Severance over a strike like that, he could bypass almost any Tier 6 or 7 defense.
As Lucifer began his first repetitions—punching a heavy sandbag wrapped in iron chains—the front gates of the dojo creaked open.
Two teenagers walked in. One was a girl with long, golden hair and an athletic grace that screamed "trained fighter"—Miu Furinji.
Beside her was a boy with a bookish look, trembling legs, and an expression of pure, unadulterated terror—Kenichi Shirahama.
Kenichi stopped dead in his tracks.
He watched as Lucifer, soaked in sweat and radiating a cold, focused intensity, drove his fist into the iron-bound sandbag.
The bag groaned, the metal links snapping under the sheer force of the impact.
Lucifer didn't even flinch; his knuckles bled, then visibly sealed shut within seconds thanks to his Healing Factor.
"Wh-wh-what is this place?!"
Kenichi stammered, his face turning pale.
"Miu-san, that guy... he's dying! He's literally breaking his hands and just... keeping going! Is this a dojo or a torture chamber?!"
Miu didn't answer immediately. Her blue eyes were fixed on Lucifer. She had grown up around the world's strongest masters, but she had never seen someone with Lucifer's specific "vibe"—a mix of high-tech coldness and a biological resilience that felt alien.
"It's a place for the strong, Kenichi-san,"
Miu said softly, her curiosity piqued. She stepped toward the training area.
"Grandfather! We're back!"
Lucifer stopped his training, breathing heavily.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the newcomers.
His Basic Empath picked up a tidal wave of "Insecurity" from Kenichi and a sharp "Intrigued Analytical Interest" from Miu.
Raven moved to Lucifer's side instantly.
Her presence was like a cooling shadow, her eyes tracking Miu with a renewed sense of "Annoyance."
"I'm Lucifer,"
He said, his voice regaining that teenage edge—trying to sound casual despite the fact that he looked like he'd just fought a war.
"And this is Raven. We're staying here for... advanced studies."
"I'm Miu! And this is my friend, Kenichi,"
She chirped, though her gaze lingered on his knuckles.
"You're the one Grandfather mentioned. The 'Traveler'."
Lucifer nodded. He knew the rules of the world—hospitality in a place like this wasn't just earned through sweat; it was maintained through respect and resources.
He reached into his tactical pouch and pulled out an envelope.
"The Elder mentioned a fee for the 'specialized' curriculum,"
Lucifer said. He handed the envelope to Miu.
Miu opened it and her eyes went wide.
Inside was $5,000 in crisp, high-denomination bills.
In this era, for a traditional dojo, that was a staggering amount of money for a month's stay.
"This is... a lot, Lucifer-san,"
Miu said, looking up at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Think of it as an investment in my survival,"
Lucifer replied. He looked at the trembling Kenichi.
"If you're here to train, kid, start running. The sandbags don't hit back, but the masters do."
Kenichi let out a small squeak and hid behind Miu.
Raven watched Miu take the money, her mind racing.
Tactical Observation: Miu Furinji is a high-level martial artist. She is the granddaughter of the primary threat (Hayato Furinji). Proximity is dangerous but necessary.
Emotional Conflict: Lucifer just gave her a significant financial asset. He spoke to her with "teenage" casualness.
Raven felt that familiar, hot prickle of jealousy. It was worse now. Miu was "normal" in a way Raven wasn't—she was sunny, athletic, and part of this world.
"The payment was efficient,"
Raven whispered to Lucifer, her voice a bit sharper than usual.
"But perhaps you should focus on your 'Fist of Destruction' rather than socialized spending. We have a goal to reach."
Lucifer looked at her, confused by the bite in her tone.
"It's just the fee, Raven. Chill."
"I am perfectly 'chill',"
Raven lied, her aura flickering dark for a split second.
She turned her gaze to Kenichi, the "weak" disciple. He was the perfect distraction.
If Lucifer was busy training and the masters were busy with the new boy, she could find a way to secure Lucifer's focus.