...
[||| =CH_04= |||]
– Wraak –
"Wasn't Instructor Gruen's class kind of boring, Wraak? It was putting me to sleep." Wraak didn't respond, choosing to keep walking.
But the other guy following him did. "It's probably because you couldn't understand what he was saying, you dumbass."
"I understood what you said just now, so shut up before I kick your ass."
"We're not allowed to spar yet, dumbass. You'd know that if you weren't so…"
Wraak continued walking to the gym, ignoring the bickering of the fools who decided to follow him around like hatchlings.
They'd latched onto him after he secured rank three in their batch, practically begging for guidance in training. He'd thought about turning them away—but they were ranked five and six. Swallowing their pride to approach him had to count for something.
And now, they acted like the three of them were bonded for life.
"C'mon," Wraak rumbled, shoving open the gym doors. "We're here."
Metallic clangs echoed in the otherwise quiet gym, the air heavy with the smell of iron and sweat. The gym wasn't empty—far from it.
Roughly half of their batch was here.
Some pushed themselves on treadmills, others strained under barbells, sweat pooling beneath them. Even the weaklings weren't slacking.
"Looks like everyone's training hard," one of the fools muttered.
Wraak barely heard him. His eyes had already locked onto someone across the room.
Irelia.
She was by the weight racks, gripping a bar loaded with more plates than Wraak had ever dared to touch.
He stopped mid-step.
'...Why. Just why is she here if she's that strong already?'
As she lowered the bar to her chest and pressed it back up, the metal strained, groaning under the weight. Not a tremble in her arms. Her breathing stayed even.
Just looking at her was completely staggering—overwhelming him with a sense of inferiority.
The rumors whispered about her strength felt downplayed as he watched her work out. There was no way he could believe she was a trainee, her power on an entirely different level.
"...Damn," one of the idiots behind him muttered, finally catching on. "I heard she's only a year older than me. How is she so strong?"
The other fool opened his mouth, probably to say something equally pointless, but his words died halfway out.
"Oi… look over there."
Wraak followed his gaze across the room, eyebrows drawing together.
Jyn was on the weight bench, struggling through a set. His form was barely passable, the bar swaying with each lift like it might topple at any second.
"Even the dead last is doing extra training," the idiot snickered.
"Isn't it ridiculous, though? Why'd he waste his life lazing around just to start working hard now?"
"Dunno." The fool's eyes narrowed as Jyn's arms trembled, barely getting the bar up. "But look, doesn't it seem like he's about to pass out again?"
Wraak huffed but didn't disagree. Watching Jyn grind away at those weights almost felt painful—like secondhand embarrassment.
But for some reason, the idiot didn't stop.
"Still, he just keeps going… that's kinda funny, isn't it?"
Wraak's smirk faded.
"Funny?" His voice rumbled low, making the two glance at him nervously. "Stop wasting time saying pointless shit when we can be working just as hard."
Neither responded.
With a grunt, Wraak stepped forward, leaving them to stare awkwardly at the floor.
In silence, the three began to work out in earnest.
Wraak's arms burned from the earlier training he did in between Aprico's calisthenics. However, he embraced the pain, letting the familiar sense dull any nagging remnant of inferiority he felt after watching Irelia.
Waarthar's were a clan of warriors. They did not get jealous—they simply devoted more time to training.
The clang of metal on metal filled the room as he powered through his sets, focusing on the rhythm—lift, hold, lower.
But midway through his third set, something shifted in the corner of his vision.
Wraak slowed, letting the bar rest against his chest. He glanced over—just a quick flick of his eyes.
Edith.
She sat on a bench, curling a dumbbell methodically, clearly feeling every muscle strain as she did so. Blonde hair pulled back tight, not a strand out of place. Even at rest, her posture was sharp.
He let the bar sit longer than he should've, just watching.
She didn't stand out like Irelia. There were no ridiculous displays of power, no rumors that left him questioning reality.
But she was the one who took rank two.
Wraak's grip tightened on the bar.
That wasn't something he could forget.
Irelia was a different breed—something distant, untouchable. But Edith? She was close. Close enough to see, close enough to catch.
'I won't be beaten by you again.'
Edith's hand paused mid-curl as if she felt the weight of his gaze.
Her eyes flicked toward him, locking eyes with him without hesitation. It wasn't like he was being subtle while sizing her up.
Her brow twitched. Wraak's lips quirked.
"You got a problem, lizard?" she asked, voice flat but loud enough to carry.
Wraak met her gaze but didn't say a word.
The two idiots flanking him, however, bristled immediately.
"Aye, what you talkin' to him like that for?" one snapped, stepping forward like a chihuahua pretending to be a guard dog.
"Yeah, show some respect! Wraak doesn't need to explain himself to you," the other chimed in, puffing his chest.
Edith stared at them for a beat, unimpressed.
"Relax," she said, folding her arms. "Your breath smells bad enough already without you running your mouths."
The pair faltered, eyes narrowing.
"Don't blame me," Edith added with a shrug. "We've been eating the same crap all week. So what's your excuse?"
One of them actually sniffed his own breath, earning a quiet snort from someone nearby.
Wraak didn't react. He just kept his gaze steady, unreadable.
Edith met his stare, then raised a brow.
He'd figured out a while ago that she wasn't always so caustic and blunt. For some reason, she only reserved that side of herself for him from what he'd seen.
While he still didn't know what he'd done to earn her ire, her demeanor only fueled his belief she was the perfect rival.
Edith crossed her arms, leaning slightly on one hip. "Look, if you're gonna stare, at least do it with some subtlety. It's creepy."
Wraak's expression didn't shift. "I wasn't—"
"Shut up a sec," Edith muttered suddenly, her gaze sliding past Wraak and locking onto something across the gym.
Wraak frowned but followed her line of sight.
Irelia was moving across the gym, slipping between machines with that same calm, deliberate stride she always carried—right where Jyn was struggling through another bench press.
Wraak's grip tightened on the bar.
Unlike how everyone looked up to Irelia with jealousy or determination, she had not once looked back at them. It was as if she were so far above them she hadn't noticed their attention.
'So why is she suddenly interested in him of all people?'
Jyn tilted his head, blinking up at her. There was a brief exchange—just a few words on her part. Whatever she said, it was quiet enough that no one else caught it.
Wraak watched as Jyn racked the bar and sat up slowly, wiping sweat from his face. Irelia stayed where she was, arms loosely crossed, waiting for his attention. She spoke again, lips moving in short, clipped sentences.
Jyn's brow furrowed. He glanced at the weights, clearly trying to puzzle something out.
She pointed at the weights, at his grip, and was making various gestures at him and the equipment. Whatever she was saying, she was serious about it.
No one could hear them.
"...What is she saying?" one of the guys whispered, leaning in.
"Beats me," the other muttered.
Wraak said nothing, watching as Irelia gave one final nod and turned to leave, heading straight for the exit without another word.
Edith exhaled, adjusting her grip on the barbell. "Weird," she muttered but didn't seem inclined to say more.
No one moved, continuing to watch blatantly.
Jyn sat alone at his bench, eyes flicking to the doors as they shut behind Irelia.
Then his gaze drifted sideways—right in their direction.
Wraak immediately looked down, focusing on the dumbbell rack like it was the most interesting thing in the galaxy. His hanger-ons followed suit, suddenly busy adjusting their laces.
Edith, however, kept staring.
"You two can sit here pretending not to care," she said, rising to her feet. "I'm gonna go ask him what that was about."
Wraak's head jerked up. "What?"
She shrugged. "Better than sitting here wondering."
Before anyone could stop her, Edith was already crossing the gym floor, weaving between machines and trainees.
Wraak could only watch, jaw tightening.
– Jyn –
"Uh… why?" I asked the blonde—Edith, I think—as she'd randomly decided to interrogate me.
"I'm just curious. It wasn't a secret, was it?" She leaned in, whispering.
For some reason, she was rather interested in what Irelia had to say to me. I'd only just learned her name then, but maybe she was a big deal around here…?
Either way, it wasn't that big of a deal.
"Nah, just seemed weird," I replied honestly. "All she did was tell me how to use the weights correctly. Something about my posture and breathing being wrong."
"What?" Edith leaned back, fixing me with a look. Her words sharpened. "That's it? Are you messing with me?"
"No, that's really what she said." I thought for a second, scratching the back of my head. "Oh, and she told me I could go to her if I'm ever confused about something in the gym."
Edith blinked.
She didn't say anything right away—just stared at me with this odd, unreadable expression.
I shifted slightly, suddenly more aware of the sweat clinging to my shirt.
'...What? Do I smell bad, or something? Why is she looking at me like that?'
Before I could ask, Edith narrowed her eyes a little. "Are you two close?"
"Huh? No, not at all." I shook my head, more confused than anything. "That was the first time we've actually talked."
She hummed under her breath, crossing her arms as her gaze drifted toward the gym exit.
"...Weird taste in men," she muttered to herself.
I paused mid-wipe with the towel around my neck.
'Rude.'
"What was that?" I asked flatly.
"Nothing." Edith waved me off and turned, already walking away.
I just watched her go, briefly wondering if everyone here was going to be this weird.
I let out a breath and shook my head.
Whatever.
Irelia's advice had actually been helpful, and I wasn't about to waste it just because someone else thought it was strange. I grabbed the bar again, resetting my posture the way she'd shown me.
Back straight. Feet planted. Don't let my elbows flare too wide.
I was just about to start when a shadow loomed over the bench.
I glanced up—and there was Wraak.
He stood there, arms crossed, his scaled tail flicking lazily behind him. His eyes narrowed like he was trying to size me up.
"...So," he rumbled after a beat, "what did Irelia say to you?"
I stared at him.
"Seriously?"
He didn't blink.
I sighed, letting the bar settle back on the rack.
– Edith –
The gym was quiet at night, with just the faint hum of the overhead lights and the occasional creak of metal shifting to accompany her.
Edith liked it this way. No useless chattering, no one to distract her from training.
She wiped the sweat from her brow and ducked under the bar, letting its weight settle across her shoulders. Her legs trembled slightly, but she forced herself to stand tall.
"One more rep," she muttered, a mantra she always repeated to herself. "Just one more rep."
The bar dipped as she lowered herself, muscles screaming in protest. She'd lost count of how many repetitions she'd done tonight.
It didn't matter.
If she wasn't moving forward, she was falling behind. It was that philosophy that had gotten her this far, and it was that philosophy that she wouldn't abandon.
"Push through," she muttered under her breath, raising herself up.
The burn felt good. Familiar.
She racked the bar with a heavy clank and leaned forward, catching her breath. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she winced. Nearly midnight. She'd have to shower quickly if she wanted even a few hours of sleep.
As she reached for her water bottle, movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her head turned, scowling when she spotted him.
Jyn.
He was at the far end of the gym, drenched in sweat and mid-set. His breathing was steady, arms shaking as he pushed the bar upward.
Of course, he was still here. She wasn't sure if the guy ever left.
Edith rolled her eyes and took a long sip of water, but her gaze drifted back to him. His form was still a little sloppy, but the sheer tenacity that he trained with irritated her to no end.
"Tch," She scoffed under her breath. But even as she did so, she felt her lips press into a thin line. Sloppy form or not, he was still working hard. Still here.
Edith knew what people said about him:
'Lazy bum.'
'Weakling.'
'An embarrassment to the patrol.'
She'd thought the same at first if she was honest, but now…
Now, she wasn't so sure.
Her fingers tightened around the water bottle as an unwelcome memory surfaced. Her father, bent and broken, dragged his body out of the mines long after his shift ended.
"If you stop, you die," he'd told her, his breath shallow and voice hoarse. "I'm sorry, my child but that is how the world works."
She hadn't truly understood it then, but she did now.
She bent down, grabbing the plates to add more weight. The metal was cold against her palms.
"Damn it," she hissed, shaking her head.
Nothing had come easy for her.
She wasn't born to become a warrior. Her race was a frail people blessed with exceptional metabolism—able to survive without the need for sustenance for extremely long stretches of time. Food, water, oxygen, she didn't need any of it for months.
Which is why they were the perfect people to enslave.
That was where she came from. A dusty mining colony on the fringes of the Galactic Patrol's territory, where they were forced to push themselves to the limit to survive. Her father had died in an accident down in the pits, and her mother—despite her advantages—had followed soon after from overwork.
By fourteen, Edith had been on her own.
She gritted her teeth, setting the plates down harder than necessary.
She hadn't joined the Patrol because she dreamed of being a hero. She joined because it was her best shot at getting out—at having something more than rusted metal and empty skies.
But she wasn't the strongest. Or the fastest. She didn't have Irelia's raw talent or Wraak's brute strength. What she did have was grit. She could outlast anyone. She'd made rank two because she refused to stop, no matter how much it hurt.
Edith adjusted her stance beneath the bar and prepared for another set. As she lifted, the strain in her muscles flared back to life. Her breath hitched, arms trembling.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Jyn switch to the treadmill.
He wasn't leaving.
Her grip tightened, irritation sparking beneath the exhaustion. It wasn't fair. She was supposed to be the one who worked the hardest, the one putting in extra hours.
Irelia made sense, she was apparently the princess of the whole damn galaxy—but him?
'Why is he still fucking here?!'
Her arms buckled, the bar lowering faster than she meant. She barely managed to rack it in time, sitting down with a frustrated huff.
Jyn hadn't noticed. Or if he had, he didn't care.
Edith grabbed her towel, draping it over her shoulders as she stood. Fine. Let him stay. She wasn't about to compete with some half-assed dead last.
At least, that's what she told herself as she gathered her things and headed for the exit.
– Jyn –
Nearly three months had passed since the beginning of our training, but it was in the first week that I discovered a flaw in my powers.
My greatest ability was the power to adapt to certain conditions. Heat, Cold, Poison—hell, I could probably survive in the vacuum of space if I just held my breath.
But there was a reason I never tried to exploit that power yet.
Essentially? My status revealed that [Human Adaptability] was a crutch.
o–o
Status
Name: Jyn
Age: 18
Race: Earthling
Title: [F-Class] +50% stat gain if the user is within Galactic Patrol territory.
Battle Power: 83.7
Body: 91 (+2) 93
Mind: NaN
Spirit: 8 (+1) 9
Ki Control: 10%
Abilities: [Human Adaptability], [Vessel of the System]
Major Skills: [-]
Minor Skills: [Lesser Resistance: Poison], [Lesser Resistance: Heat], [Ki Imbuement]
o–o
I had two different numbers for each stat: A base stat, and a modified stat.
The modified stats were just the stat bonuses I gained from all the minor skills added to my base. The base stat was simply my stat unmodified.
Self-explanatory, right?
Well, I quickly realized that my only method to improve my base stat was through training or quests. And the gains from training became less and less as I grew in power.
The problem was that I couldn't turn my stat modifiers off which meant that if I had too many skills, I would be stuck with extremely low base stats.
To put it simply, I needed to build my foundation before I began skill hunting.
At least, for the Body.
I'd spent the entirety of these three months training, studying, and meditating. Not once did my base Spirit increase.
So while my Body began to hit a peak, I began to intensify my meditation. If I could start manipulating ki as a physical force, I could maybe begin to improve my Spirit.
Every day, I remembered the words Gohan had said to Videl and pulled on that feeling with all my might.
But I was not Videl, who had lived her entire life as a martial artist. I was just me, and I had no idea if I was even doing this right.
In that respect, Ki was a double-edged sword.
Mastering it would open up a world of possibilities, a path to strength and freedom I'd never dreamed of before. But it also demanded more of me than anything else in my life ever had.
Ever since that first day when I accidentally tapped into my ki, I had become painfully aware of that.
The warmth of my ki was always there—a flickering ember in my core. It hummed in the back of my mind, like a whisper I couldn't quite make out.
It was alive within me, like a second heartbeat or a river flowing beneath my skin. The more I trained, the stronger that flow became, and the clearer I could sense its currents.
And right now, it was being stubborn as hell.
In my hands, cradled carefully was a tiny, flickering speck of light. It shimmered faintly, a dull white hue that pulsed in rhythm with my breaths.
Sweat dripped from my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I didn't dare blink.
"Come on," I growled, my voice raw from strain. "Just… stay alive a little longer…"
The light wavered, shrinking slightly, and it felt like my heart skipped a beat. I focused my will, trying to will it to stay, but it was akin to cupping water in my hands.
The more I tried to control it, the faster it seemed to slip away.
My arms trembled as my ki flagged, and with one final, pitiful flicker, the light blinked out.
'Damn it.' I groaned and let my arms drop to my side, collapsing onto my back. My breathing was erratic as I stared at the sky, the stars above mocking me with their splendor.
'How do they make this look so easy?'
All of the Z-Fighters were geniuses in that respect, able to use ki blasts without any effort. Unlike him, who had never trained this hard in his life, their ki control must've been far higher than 10%.
He'd thought that with enough training and willpower, he could at least sustain it enough to use it for something other than a fancy candle.
I was, reasonably, getting frustrated.
But I had to remember that even Videl had failed her first time.
"Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way," I muttered, clinging to that thought as I brought my trembling hands together again. "I've been trying to force it, but hadn't Gohan said Videl should relax?"
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I centered myself.
I don't know how long I stayed in that position, simply attempting to feel my own ki. But eventually, it happened.
The ache in my body slowly receded to a dull throb, and the world seemed to fade away.
All that mattered at that moment was the energy within me, the faint warmth that pulsed in my chest. It was there—small, elusive, but undeniably present.
I exhaled slowly, beckoning that power to the surface instead of reaching for it. It responded, flickering like a candle flame, and I gently guided it forward, letting it flow through my arms and into my palms.
My fingers tingled as a faint white glow emerged, a single spark hovering between my hands.
But this time, it didn't sputter or waver. It lingered. Steady.
I held my breath, afraid that even the slightest shift could cause it to vanish.
Slowly, I drew my hands further apart, watching as the faint light stretched, a thin thread of energy connecting my palms. It pulsed with life—soft, warm. But fragile.
'Alright… now compress.'
The thread thickened, gathering at the center as if drawn by some unseen force. Bit by bit, the light compacted, folding inward on itself. The faint shimmer gained substance, swirling softly into a small, spherical shape.
The soft white gradually shifted to a faint blue hue outlining its edges. It crackled faintly, buzzing with a faint heat against my skin.
It was small—no larger than an apple—but it was there.
The ki blast was real.
I could feel it, a thrumming pressure in the pit of my stomach that connected directly to the sphere. It was as if the energy was tethered to me, waiting for direction.
"Alright," I muttered under my breath, trying not to let my excitement overshadow my concentration. "Let's do this."
Carefully, I extended my arm forward, pushing the sphere of light out into the open air.
"Hah!"
The moment I let go, the small ball of ki surged forward like a bullet—
BOOM!
—then exploded violently against the ground in a bright flash of light and smoke.
I sat there, stunned, watching as dust and dirt scattered across the training yard.
The crater it left behind wasn't massive—barely a shallow dent in the earth. But that didn't matter.
A wide grin broke across my face as I collapsed backward onto the grass, the stars seeming dull in comparison to my achievement.
I'd done it.
I couldn't stop the breathless laugh that escaped me, bubbling up until I was outright cackling at the sky like an idiot.
I wiped a hand over my face, chest still heaving from the exertion, but I didn't care. That flicker of light—no matter how fragile—had finally turned into something more.
The manifestation of the raw power swelling within me.
o–o
User has gained sufficient enough understanding to constitute a skill. [Vessel of the System] is reacting…
Minor skill [Ki Manifestation] has manifested!
(+1 Spirit)
o–o
The screen hovered at the edge of my vision, but I barely paid it any attention.
I was too busy grinning at the sky, laughing like a madman.
A/N: Happy New Year! I hope 2024 was a good year for you. Whether it was or not, here's to hoping 2025 is better. As far as the story goes, I think we're like halfway or more through this beginning arc. Hopefully you aren't bored. And if you are, well, maybe the next chapter will be more enjoyable for you.
Reviews
PhilLordy: He always comes in clutch, even when he doesn't even know it.
hero-no5: Thanks! And yeah, I'm trying not to bombard the reader with system messages. I've heard complaints about that in other stories before.
Zwillingen700: Thank you for reading. I won't act like I'm above that numbers-go-up obsession that DBZ fans have, but I'm trying to make his progression (both in power and character development) cathartic like Dragon Ball rather than adrenaline pumping like DBZ.
DragonNOOB: Glad you're enjoying, I was very surprised I hadn't seen this concept elsewhere (to my knowledge) in a fanfic yet. Also yeah, Jyn really isn't paying much attention to anything but his own growth.