Prologue Part: 1
1: Flow
What is strength? What is power?
Jaune wondered about this for a long time when he was a child, when he dreamt of being a hero.
He was naive, foolish in many ways.
But even someone like him knew that strength was necessary to save others, that having power was the requirement he needed to fulfill his dreams.
But even if he knew that, he was ignorant of what strength truly meant and how to obtain it. Of course, his father hindering his path even before it began had a lot to do with it.
However, Jaune didn't deceive himself about his own flaws either.
Even if his father didn't want to train him, he should have sought other ways, he should have worked harder, tried more, explored other options.
Instead, he wallowed in self-pity and false hope that if he made it to Beacon, things would change. That there, he would learn everything he should have learned as a child.
That the only way was by getting into the world's best combat school.
How stupid.
How arrogant.
How foolish.
He didn't even set foot on the school grounds.
Maybe if he had sought strength, if he had tried to learn about it before running away from home like a fool, he could have done something more.
Something more than just dying.
Their foolish dreams and hopes shattered the moment the grimm began tearing their body apart piece by piece.
Ripping off their limbs, opening their body, and pulling out their guts, they witnessed their organs being extracted from where they should have been. They felt it all in slow and agonizing detail.
Honestly, they would have preferred to die instantly, but they supposed that would be too simple of an escape. Somehow, their body and consciousness endured it all until a grimm decided to rip their head off their body.
That memory still haunts them in nightmares.
The phantom pain still lingers.
But surely, this should be impossible, right? How can a dead person still have nightmares?
Well, they didn't know what kind of dumb luck, divine intervention, or miraculous coincidence happened to them.
The fact was, they woke up again.
Jaune Arc died in another world with unfulfilled dreams and shattered hopes.
And Charanko woke up in a new world with a new life.
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The first years were tough.
There were no Grimm, but that didn't make his new home any safer.
Unknown creatures.
Strange life forms.
Monsters.
Jaune hadn't known much about Grimm in his previous life, but he certainly had basic knowledge about them.
The monsters were entirely different from them.
Their intelligence, strength, and cunning had no comparison.
Whole armies faced them and lost.
Humanity in this world might seem more united than in his old world, with no kingdoms and only a unified government, but that didn't mean it was safer.
The constant threat was palpable, and if it weren't for the existence of certain extraordinary individuals, Jaune had no doubt that humanity would have fallen.
There was no general name for them; they didn't belong to the same group, and it didn't seem like they knew each other.
They were loners in many ways, but they were the ones who protected humanity.
This world had no huntsmen; there were no places that trained warriors to protect humanity, and there was no magical dust to level the playing field.
Without the involvement of these extraordinary individuals, humanity would have fallen in this world.
And so, like a naive fool who, even though he had died, still held childish dreams within him, he decided to chase his dreams once more, to seek out one of these extraordinary people to achieve what he could never do in his previous life.
It didn't hurt that the man's identity was known, and his place of residence was public.
Just because he had to have so many stairs?!
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The older man crossed his hands behind his back, even though he seemed a bit hunched; his posture was still firm.
His gray eyebrows lifted when he noticed the small figure climbing the stairs, almost crawling.
He noticed the dirt on his hands, how they were red from the effort, and he saw the exhaustion in him, as if his body seemed ready to collapse at any moment.
But above all, he noticed that fiery blaze in his eyes, like a bright flame.
The least one would expect from a child no more than 6 years old who could climb the thousands of stairs to his dojo.
Despite noticing all of this, the old man didn't move to help; that would be an insult to the effort he was witnessing in front of him.
Instead, he waited, watching as the child struggled to climb until he reached the last step.
For a second, he thought the child would faint once he reached him, but with some astonishment, he watched as the child stood up and walked over to him.
"A-are you Master Bang?"
Bang nodded slowly, still not speaking.
The child fell to his knees and bowed deeply in front of him.
"Please, train me!"
That day would be deeply remembered by Jaune, after all, it was the day someone was truly willing to teach him.
"Of course."
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Three years later.
"It's like a current, a constant flow of water like the furious tides, capable of crushing even rocks."
Bang's voice resonated in Jaune's ears. Today was finally the day, after three long years of training where he learned basic martial arts to condition his body and mind, he had finally reached the moment.
He would learn his master's true martial arts.
However, as he looked at the great and furious river at his feet, Jaune wasn't sure if he would enjoy this as much as he had imagined.
"Like this river then, that's why we came to look at it, right? So that I can understand how it works, just by looking at it from here safely and trying to comprehend it, right?" Jaune couldn't help the tremor in his voice.
"Hahaha, of course not! To truly understand it, you need to experience it firsthand," his master laughed good-naturedly, stroking his chin as if he had a beard.
"E-experience it?! Wait, Master, maybe it's too soon. I think I should practice for another two years!"
"Nonsense! If I say you're ready, you're ready. Now go, test the flow of a river!"
With a hand movement that Jaune couldn't perceive, he was pushed into the air, falling toward the furious river below.
His scream echoed throughout the area.
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In the end, his master had been right, as always, and that experience had helped him grasp the fundamentals of the coolest martial art that exists, and anyone who said otherwise was a fool in Jaune's opinion.
Because how can there be a cooler martial art than the one that allows you to defy any adversity, counter any attack, and return the blow with double the force?
To fight beyond your physical abilities, using your opponent's strength against them entirely?
Of course, many martial arts claim to have such characteristics, but none really compare to the Ryūsui Gansai-ken: Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist!
No wonder his master is acclaimed as the strongest martial artist in the world.
Although the master says that in reality, his older brother deserves that title.
Jaune hadn't met his master's brother yet, but with all the good things his master said about him, he must be an incredible man.
Leaving his thoughts behind, Jaune focused on the task at hand.
Despite everything, Jaune hadn't forgotten the reason he sought his master, the reason he worked so hard.
To be a hero.
To save people.
And now, there was a monster in front of him, threatening people.
Jaune didn't really expect to come across one while he was out buying comics.
It may be another life, but some things don't change.
His fondness for comics being one of them. While his life now focused on his training, his master also taught him the importance of resting properly.
That's why he had gone out to buy comics, or manga as they called it in this world.
Nothing is more relaxing than a good comic book reading!
Returning to the topic, it was in the middle of his purchase that a monster decided to appear.
"Ku ku ku ku! Run! No matter how much you do, in the end, you'll all be my dinner!" The monster was tall, almost four meters, its skin seemed to gleam in metallic gray, and its face was a parody of a traditional wrestling mask.
Not to mention that its body was almost entirely naked, only covered by a pair of ridiculously small briefs.
It was a ridiculous sight, but that didn't make Jaune relax or underestimate his opponent.
No matter how ridiculous he looked or how foolishly he acted, there was a real monster in front of him, and his master had taught him never to underestimate any opponent.
While people fled, Jaune approached, forgetting his purchases and preparing for the fight.
Was Jaune brave?
No.
Was Jaune reckless?
No.
Jaune was afraid; if he were his first-life self, he would be trembling uncontrollably. Even now, his body wanted to shake, but his master had taught him better.
He had instilled enough discipline in his body so that his posture wouldn't falter. His stance was firm, having withstood the onslaught of raging river currents, it was impossible for him to tremble at this point.
And though he was afraid, it wasn't for himself.
He had already died a horrible death, one so horrifying that it still haunted his nightmares. Death didn't frighten him anymore, not when he had experienced such a terrible one. Instead, his fear and nervousness were for the people running behind him. If he failed here, this monster would kill them. If he didn't win, then everyone would be in danger.
That's why he couldn't afford to fail.
That's why he was going to win!
"Ku! A brave little boy stands before me! Do you want to fight the mighty Iron Fist Jack? Then prepare yourself, insolent punk, to witness the strength of a real professional fighter!"
The monster fighter lunged forward, cracking the ground with a single step, his massive body moved faster than it had any right to, and his attack would have instantly crushed any ordinary person. For Jaune, it was like watching it in slow motion. All these years of practice with his master and the other dojo students had honed his perception beyond the human. The attack in front of him was as slow as a snail.
He easily deflected the incoming blow and, clenching his fist, launched his counterattack. His punch easily hit the monster's side, its skin as hard as steel rippled, and its ribs collapsed, breaking on the spot.
"Puah!?" Blood spurted from the monster's mouth, and its body was sent flying dozens of meters. Jaune looked at his fist with childlike amazement. While fighting his master or the other students at the dojo, he had never been able to land such a clean and direct punch.
Of course, he knew he could hit hard, very hard. After all, the "Rock Smashing" wasn't just an elegant part of his master's martial art's name. You would literally have to be able to crush rocks with your fists to even begin practicing it. That was the minimum requirement and the reason why Jaune had taken three years to get ready.
Now, at 13 years of age and having been under the teaching of his master Bang for 7 years, Jaune could do more than just smash rocks. A broad smile spread across his face.
He was no longer weak, no longer that scrawny boy that bullies picked on and that his sisters had to save.
He was no longer a disappointment.
He could be a hero.
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It goes without saying that his master wasn't pleased with his rash act.
"Even if you landed a good hit, monsters can be very deceptive, charanko! You can't judge their strength solely by their appearance," Jaune nodded as he maintained a horse stance, holding a car-sized boulder in his hands.
"Still, it would be hypocritical of me to keep scolding you when you used your strength for the good of others," Bang sighed.
"D-Does that mean I can take a break?" the boy asked with hope.
"No! This punishment isn't because you fought. It's because you stood there like a fool, staring at your fist after landing a good hit! Seriously, if Yoshida hadn't been shopping with you, that monster might have caught you off guard!"
Recalling what happened after his initial success, Jaune hung his head in shame. He had let his guard down, thinking he had already won, and got lost in daydreaming about becoming a hero. If Yoshida, one of his fellow disciples, hadn't been with him, he could have suffered serious injuries when the monster counterattacked.
"You will carry that boulder until the sun sets and reflect on your mistakes," his master said sternly.
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After that, Jaune continued to face more monsters in his free time. Their numbers kept increasing as time passed, and so did his strength.
Jaune tried to protect as many people as he could. He preferred to die again rather than allow anyone to be hurt in front of him.
Jaune didn't come out unscathed every time. The strength of the monsters and their fighting styles always varied. Even with the coolest martial art in the world, Jaune found himself in serious trouble several times.
However, he gained a lot of experience, helping him improve his strength by leaps and bounds. He wasn't Bang's strongest disciple, but he was certainly within the top 10, and the youngest, earning him the title of the most talented by many.
That changed when Garou arrived.
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What was talent?
In his first life, Jaune wasn't good at anything, he didn't excel in any area. Perhaps if he had searched more, tried harder, things might have been different. But those were just regrets of the past.
In this life, Jaune believed he had found his talent. He thought he understood the word, maybe he got carried away by the praises of his master and fellow students, but Jaune felt a sense of pride. It wasn't petty pride or anything like that; Jaune knew that even if he did have talent, that wasn't what made his strength grow. Instead, it was hard work and effort that mattered most.
But even knowing that, Jaune still felt proud, proud to be called Bang's youngest and most talented disciple, proud of his peers' praises, and proud of his strength.
Garou shattered all of that in just one month.
Garou showed him what true talent meant.
The real meaning of the word.
Genius...
In truth, Jaune was grateful to Garou; he made him come back down to earth and realize that, no matter the praise, no matter what others said about him, at the end of the day, he was still that clumsy, scrawny boy who had bled, sweated, and cried for everything he had gained in this world.
That everything was due to his effort and not that illusory word called talent.
That he was not a genius.
And that was okay.
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It was a few months after Garou's arrival that the Hero Association was founded.
Some representatives had come to his master's dojo seeking their participation.
Jaune's eyes sparkled with stars upon hearing the explanation these men gave. Perhaps if he hadn't been so focused on himself, he might have noticed the dark look in Garou's eyes, the darkness and hatred within them.
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