Mindset

Baki POV:

As the days passed, the mansion grew quieter, emptier. The weight of the silence, once comforting, now seemed to press in on me, a constant reminder that soon, my father—Yuujiro Hanma—would be coming. Every step I took felt heavier, and the reality of what lay ahead settled deep in my chest. I had trained hard over the past year, harder than I ever thought possible, but I knew that nothing could truly prepare me for what was coming. My father wasn't just a challenge; he was a force of nature, a living embodiment of strength and terror.

Shibukawa and Motobe had left not long after Doppo, returning to their respective dojos and lives. Their goodbyes had been brief but meaningful. Shibukawa, with his sharp wit and calm demeanor, had left me with parting words that echoed in my mind: "Fighting isn't just about strength, kid. It's about knowing when to fight and when to let your opponent fight himself." Motobe, quieter and more introspective, simply nodded as he handed me a scroll filled with instructions for training in his absence. His way of saying that while he was gone, the lessons never stopped.

I appreciated their wisdom, their guidance, but I couldn't help but feel an ache in my chest as they walked away. For the first time in a year, I found myself truly alone in the mansion. The days that followed were a strange contrast to the intense training regimen I'd grown accustomed to. Without constant training, the structure of my life suddenly shifted. I had time—time to breathe, to think, to reflect.

I decided to take a break. Not from growing stronger, but from the constant grind. For the first time since I had been reborn into this world, I allowed myself to relax, to step back from the physical intensity of the past year. I spent my days reading, a habit I'd picked up from my previous life. One book in particular caught my attention—"The Power of Mindset and How to Change Habits."

It felt strange, sitting in a quiet room with nothing but a book in hand. After the relentless training, the idea of focusing on mental strength felt almost foreign. But it was something I had neglected in the whirlwind of physical improvement. In my past life, I hadn't been lazy by any means, but I wasn't the kind of person who pushed myself all day, every day either. The old me was someone who enjoyed his comfort zones, who found balance between work and rest. That life seemed like a distant memory now.

But now, I knew that my future was different. Here, I had to be active, constantly pushing forward. My father wasn't someone who would accept mediocrity, and I couldn't afford to let my past self dictate how I approached this new life. The idea of pushing beyond my limits wasn't just a physical task anymore—it was a mental one. I had to change the way I approached life entirely, to become relentless in both mind and body.

I found myself reflecting on the lessons I'd learned over the past year, from Doppo, Shibukawa, and Motobe. Their teachings had been brutal, pushing me to the edge of what my young body could handle, but they had also taught me patience, control, and strategy. But with Yuujiro, I had no illusions—there would be no patience, no room for mistakes. Everything I had learned up until this point had been preparing me for the real challenge.

I closed the book, setting it aside for a moment, and stared out the window at the garden below. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the mansion grounds. The peaceful days I had been experiencing felt like the calm before the storm. And I knew that the storm was coming—one that would change everything. Soon, my father would arrive, and with him, a new kind of training. One that would likely push me far beyond what I thought I was capable of.

A part of me, deep down, was scared. Not of the physical pain—I had grown used to that—but of losing myself in the process. What would I become after training with Yuujiro? Would I still be Baki, or would I become something else—something more like him? It was a question I had been wrestling with ever since I was reborn into this world, and now, as the time drew nearer, it felt more pressing than ever.

But as much as the fear gnawed at me, there was something else inside me too—determination. I had made a wish when I was reborn, a wish to travel to different worlds and explore something beyond the mundane life I had lived before. This was my reality now, and I had to embrace it. The time for hesitation was over.

I stood up, stretching my legs and feeling the strength that had grown in them over the past year. Even without active training, I could feel how much I had improved. My muscles were stronger, more responsive. My body, though still young, was far more capable than any ordinary child. And yet, I still felt the weight of inexperience.

Experience. That was the one thing I couldn't rush. No amount of strength or technique could make up for the battles I hadn't fought, for the moments of sheer survival I hadn't yet faced. I knew that would come with time, and when it did, I would be ready.

For now, though, I allowed myself this brief moment of peace. I knew it wouldn't last, and that when my father arrived, the calm would be shattered. But in this quiet moment, I could reflect on how far I had come—and how much further I still had to go.

Yuujiro POV:

As I prepared to leave and finally meet my son again, my mind wandered back to the last time I saw him. Baki—the son I'd allowed to live and grow for this purpose—had been little more than a fragile creature then. He couldn't even throw a proper punch. He was strong, physically and mentally, of course, but that was merely the result of my blood running through his veins. That was his birthright, nothing more. Power, strength, resilience—he had the foundations. But the last time we stood face to face, he had been nothing more than potential. And potential, without the right kind of training, without being properly forged, was utterly meaningless.

I was giving him a chance, after all. My blood, my legacy. But if he couldn't rise to the challenge… then I would simply make a new son.

Still, despite my doubts, there was something that intrigued me about this boy. He had survived under Emi's care, though her methods were weak in my eyes. I didn't believe in her training, but she had kept him alive this long, and the rumors I had heard spoke of his growing strength. Maybe he could surprise me. It was possible, though not likely.

I strapped my jacket on, the material stretching over the immense muscles that could crush mountains, and I couldn't help but smirk at the thought. Surprise me? Me? It was almost laughable. No one had surprised me in years. The world had long since lost the ability to challenge me, to offer me anything beyond fleeting moments of entertainment. The fighters, the warriors—they all came at me, one by one, believing they could face a living god. And each one fell. Some had been entertaining for a time, but none had offered anything remotely resembling a true challenge.

Baki… he was different, though. My son. There was a certain expectation, even a faint hope, that he would grow into something formidable, something worthy. That, in the end, was all that mattered: would he be worthy?

I had received no recent updates from Emi. Not that I needed them—she was a means to an end, after all. I never cared much for her training methods, and I still doubted whether she truly had the strength to mold Baki into something useful. But if she had failed, I could deal with that, too. If my son wasn't strong enough, I would simply make another. And another, until one of them was worthy of me. That's all they were to me—vessels for strength, tools for my amusement.

But Baki, he had survived. He was still here. He had my blood, and that gave him a fighting chance. But how far had he come since I last saw him? Would he be a worthy opponent, or would he crumble like all the others?

I didn't hold back my smile at the thought. The idea of finally creating something, someone, who could stand against me was thrilling in its own way. A true challenge. I'd fought all the strongest men in the world, and none of them had given me what I craved. Maybe, just maybe, Baki would be different.

I considered the methods I would use to train him. If he wasn't strong enough to endure my methods, then he wasn't strong enough to exist in my world.

Last time, he had been nothing more than a child with potential, but now? Now, I wanted to see what that potential had grown into. I wasn't interested in training a boy; I was interested in creating a monster. Something in my image. Something worthy of my strength.

I thought about the first test. It would be brutal, and I wouldn't hold back. There would be no mercy, no hesitation. Baki needed to be pushed beyond his limits. I'd see if he could survive what was coming—if he could endure the pain, the brutality. If he survived, I'd mold him into something stronger. If he didn't… well, that would be his end, and I would move on.

But for now, I was curious. What had my son become? Had he grown into the warrior I needed, or was he still the same weakling I had seen before? There was only one way to find out.

The streets blurred beneath me as I moved, the world passing by in a haze. Anticipation was a rare feeling for me. So few things in this world were worthy of my attention. Baki, though… He had my blood, and that was enough to pique my interest. I needed to know if this child of mine would one day become the man who could challenge me. If not, I would cast him aside like all the others, but if he survived… then we would finally begin his real training.

The mansion came into view, its towering presence almost laughable in its grandeur. A home fit for kings, but to me, it was just a cage. I wasn't meant for such places. My battlefield was everywhere. My kingdom was in the chaos of the fight, in the sound of bones breaking, of blood spilling. I was The Ogre, a force of nature, and this place was just a brief stop on my journey.

As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the mansion filled my senses. But I wasn't here for luxury. I was here for my son. Baki. My blood, my legacy. And today, I would see if he was ready. I would see if he had grown into something worthy of being called Hanma.

I smirked. "Let's see if you can survive, boy."

Baki POV 

Today was the day. The day I would meet Yuujiro again. The idea lingered in my mind like a distant storm cloud, growing heavier as the hours passed. Emi had told me this morning, her voice light but her eyes tense, like she was trying to keep her emotions in check. She'd put me in a fine suit, the kind that made me feel like I was being dressed up for an occasion I didn't want to attend. I had even been given a haircut—one I didn't ask for. I wanted my hair long. It was one of the few ways I could hold on to the identity of my previous life. But here I was, cut, suited up, presentable. Just another way of showing how little control I had over my life since being reborn into this one.

I made a decision a year ago. I would never panic again. Not like that first time, when Yuujiro appeared out of nowhere, grabbing me by the neck like I was a toy. The terror I'd felt then, the powerlessness… it was something I swore I'd never let happen again. Since then, something inside me has changed. I could feel it, like a quiet strength building in my chest. Training with my masters—Doppo, Shibukawa, and Motobe—had awoken something in me. A new mindset, a stronger mentality. I wasn't just a child anymore, not mentally. I was stronger now, more prepared, and this time, I wouldn't be caught off guard.

As I sat on the plush sofa in the living room, a book open in my lap, I tried to focus on the words, but my mind kept drifting. The atmosphere around me felt thick with anticipation, and every second seemed to stretch out. Emi was nearby, pacing and saying something to me, though I wasn't really listening. Her voice had faded into the background, just another noise blending into the silence of the mansion.

Then, suddenly, she went silent. He had arrived.

It was like the air in the room changed—becoming heavier, thicker. I could feel his presence before I even saw him. The Ogre. Yuujiro Hanma. The man who made the world tremble. It was as if the whole mansion was holding its breath, waiting for what would come next.

I turned around slowly, my heart beating steadily in my chest, though I could feel the tension creeping in. There he was. His sheer presence filled the room, his massive frame casting a long shadow over everything. His eyes—those cold, predator's eyes—locked onto mine, and I could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical pressure bearing down on me.

But I didn't flinch. Not this time. Instead, I met his gaze head-on, my face set in a calm expression. "Hello, Father," I said, my voice steady, though I couldn't stop a hint of sarcasm from slipping in. "Couldn't say that last time."

The words hung in the air, and I could feel Emi's eyes on me, her breath catching slightly. There was a tension between us, but I didn't care. I wasn't the scared little boy I had been the last time we met. I am stronger now. Not just physically, but mentally. I had faced harsh training, learned to endure pain, to push myself past my limits. I had earned the right to stand in front of him without trembling.

But I knew better than to let my guard down. Yuujiro wasn't the kind of person to let a sarcastic remark slide without consequences. Every part of me was prepared for what might happen next. I had trained for this—for the moment I would face him again. I wasn't naive enough to think I was anywhere near his level, but I was ready to face him without fear.

Yuujiro's Predatory grin widened slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was sizing me up. His massive figure moved with a predator's grace, closing the distance between us with just a few steps. The room felt smaller, suffocating almost, with him standing in it. His presence dominated everything, and it took all my willpower to keep my breathing steady.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was oppressive, like a dark cloud hovering over us. Then, with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder, Yuujiro finally responded, "You've grown." He said it almost dismissively, like he was acknowledging a fact rather than offering praise. "But don't think for a second that makes you special, boy."

His eyes bore into mine, and I could feel the weight of his expectations behind them. To him, I was still just potential, something to be shaped—or discarded—depending on how I performed. I wasn't his son, not in any way that mattered. I was a tool, a vessel for the Hanma bloodline, and if I didn't meet his expectations, I knew exactly what would happen.

But I wasn't going to back down. Not now. I had spent the last year training, pushing myself, preparing for this moment. I wouldn't fail. I wouldn't let him break me.

"I'm ready," I said, my voice steady but firm. It was a simple statement, but it carried the weight of everything I had gone through up until now. Every punch, every drop of sweat, every moment of doubt. All of it had led to this moment. Standing before Yuujiro—the man who seemed less like a father and more like a force of nature—I was determined to prove myself, to show that I wasn't just his son, but someone capable of standing up to him.

Yuujiro's grin remained, but the coldness in his eyes made my skin crawl. It was a look that made it clear he saw right through me, saw my strength, but also my weaknesses. "We'll see," he said, his voice low and dangerous, carrying the kind of weight that felt like a promise. "We'll see if you're ready, boy."

The air between us was thick with tension, as if the whole mansion was holding its breath. I could feel Emi in the background, her presence just beyond the edge of my awareness, but she seemed irrelevant in that moment. It was just me and Yuujiro—the man who could crush mountains with his bare hands, and the son who was trying to prove he wasn't just another disappointment.

Yuujiro's expression shifted slightly as he straightened, his posture still commanding the room. "The training will start now. And since you seem to have some brain, it will also include manners," he added, his tone dripping with something between sarcasm and disdain.

Manners? My mind raced for a moment, trying to process what he meant. Manners? From a brute like him? The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it back. I knew better than to let my thoughts slip. Was he going to teach me how to kill someone with "manners"? How to be polite while snapping someone's neck? The absurdity of the idea flashed through my mind, but I pushed it aside. Yuujiro wasn't someone to joke about, even in my head.

Before I could dwell on it too much, Yuujiro's voice cut through the room again. "Go change into some training gear. Meet me in the training hall. You have ten minutes." His eyes flicked toward the door before he added, almost as an afterthought, "I'll talk to your mother."

The way he said it—so dismissively, as if Emi's presence barely registered—made my stomach tighten. He didn't even bother to wait for me to respond before turning on his heel and walking toward the other end of the mansion. The way he moved, with that calm, measured stride, was a reminder of just how dangerous he really was. Every step felt like a countdown to something inevitable.

I watched him go, my body still tense, my heart pounding in my chest. For a moment, I considered what he had said about "manners." It was strange coming from him, someone who lived by brute strength and intimidation. But then again, Yuujiro's view of the world was far from normal. Whatever he had in store for me, it wasn't going to be anything simple. I had to be prepared for anything.

I stood there for a second longer, then turned and headed for my room. I could still feel the weight of Yuujiro's presence, even as I walked away. There was something suffocating about it, like a shadow that followed me no matter how far I went. The mansion, with all its luxury, had never felt so small.

As I reached my room and changed into my training gear, the thoughts swirling in my head became clearer. This was it. The real test was about to begin. All the training with Doppo, Shibukawa, and Motobe had been preparation for this—facing my father, the man who defined what it meant to be strong in this world. And now, I was going to be under his control, molded in his image. Or crushed trying.

Pulling on my shirt, I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't the same kid from a year ago. My body had grown stronger, the result of intense training and discipline. But no amount of muscle could prepare me for what Yuujiro had planned. This wasn't just about strength. It was about surviving him.

I ran a hand through my short hair—another reminder of how little control I had over my life right now. The haircut wasn't mine, it was Emi's choice. She wanted me to look a certain way, to be "presentable" for Yuujiro. As if that mattered. Yuujiro didn't care how I looked; he only cared about whether I could take whatever he was about to throw at me.

My mind drifted back to his words: "I'll talk to your mother." The way he said it made my stomach twist with unease. Emi had always been different around him—there was a tension, a mixture of fear and admiration. It was like she saw Yuujiro as something more than human, something terrifying but irresistible. I didn't understand it then, and I wasn't sure I ever would.

Shaking the thoughts away, I finished getting ready. Ten minutes. I didn't have time to worry about what Yuujiro was saying to Emi. My focus had to be on the training, on whatever hell Yuujiro was about to put me through. I couldn't afford distractions. Not when the stakes were this high.

As I stepped out of my room and made my way toward the training hall, I could feel the tension building again. Every step felt heavier, like I was walking toward a battle I wasn't sure I was ready for. But there was no turning back now.

When I reached the hall, the doors were already open, the room waiting for me like some kind of arena. I stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the vast space, the echoes of past fights that seemed to linger in the air. This is where it begins, I thought.

I walked inside, feeling the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. Yuujiro would be here soon, and whatever was coming next, I had to face it head-on. There was no room for fear. I had promised myself I would never panic again.