Chapter 2: The First Step

Dikun Silver didn't sleep much that night. The system's glowing text replayed endlessly in his mind. It was impossible to ignore. For the first time, he saw a glimpse of something beyond his endless cycle of fear and humiliation.

> No Skills Acquired.

Visit a gym to unlock your first martial art.

That was the goal. The system wouldn't hand him strength. He had to earn it.

The creaky fan in his cramped apartment groaned as it spun. The cracked walls and water stains were all too familiar. Dikun's mother worked tirelessly at a local diner, and every penny went toward keeping the roof above their heads. There was no father in the picture — hadn't been since Dikun was a child. His mother's only demand was simple: stay in school.

But Bloodfang High wasn't a school. It was a battleground. And unless Dikun changed, he wouldn't last.

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The Streets of Bloodfang

The following morning, Dikun slipped on his worn-out hoodie and sneakers. The streets were just as rough as the school — cracked asphalt, shattered windows, and distant sirens. Gangs ruled here. Every block had its own crew, and the wrong glance could get you beaten or worse.

Despite the tension in the air, Dikun kept walking. The system remained silent, but he felt its presence. All he had to do was find the right place — a gym where real fighters trained.

He passed street vendors shouting over the noise of rusted motorcycles. Kids played with sticks, mimicking the fights they saw in the alleys. Teenagers with bruised knuckles loitered near convenience stores, glaring at anyone who got too close.

Then he saw it.

A faded sign dangled from a rusting chain above a narrow building. "Red Fang Boxing Gym" was scrawled across it in peeling letters. The windows were fogged with sweat, and the rhythmic thud of fists meeting leather echoed from within.

> Location Detected: Red Fang Boxing Gym

Potential Skill Unlock: Boxing

Dikun's heart pounded. This was it.

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Inside the Ring

The smell of sweat and old leather hit him the moment he pushed open the heavy metal door. The gym was nothing like the polished fitness centers he'd seen in commercials. Here, the floor was cracked concrete, and the air buzzed with tension. Fighters in stained tank tops and torn shorts circled worn-out punching bags, sweat dripping from their brows.

A massive ring stood in the center, its ropes frayed and stained. Inside, two fighters traded blows. The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed through the room. Dikun couldn't tear his eyes away.

"First time?"

The gruff voice startled him. Dikun turned to see a man in his late forties, built like a tank. His face was rugged, a thick scar running from his temple to his jaw. A cigarette dangled from his lips, though it remained unlit.

"Y-Yeah," Dikun managed.

The man snorted. "Name's Kane. Owner of this dump." He eyed Dikun from head to toe. "You don't look like much. What are you here for?"

"I want to learn how to fight."

The room seemed to quiet at his words. A few nearby fighters shot him amused glances, clearly entertained by the sight of a weakling asking for strength.

Kane scoffed. "Fight? You sure? Most kids like you last a week before they crawl back home."

"I won't quit." Dikun's voice was steadier this time.

Kane studied him for a long moment, then jerked his head toward an empty punching bag. "Start with that. Ten rounds. If you're still standing, we'll talk."

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The First Punch

Dikun's fists felt awkward as he approached the bag. He raised them, mimicking what little he had seen. He struck — weak, clumsy. His knuckles barely made a sound.

> System Notification:

Skill Unlocked — Boxing (F-Class)

Progress: 1%

A tingling sensation swept through his body. Suddenly, his posture adjusted. The weight distribution in his legs felt more balanced. His stance steadied. The knowledge wasn't perfect, but it was there — like faint muscle memory.

He punched again. Stronger. Then again. His breathing evened out. Every impact sent a dull ache through his wrists, but he kept going. The world narrowed to the rhythmic thud of his fists against the bag.

> Progress: 5%... 7%... 10%

Kane watched from a distance, a flicker of curiosity crossing his scarred face.

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The Path Begins

By the tenth round, Dikun was gasping for air, his arms trembling. Sweat dripped from his chin. The bag swayed gently, marked with the faint outlines of his strikes.

But he was still standing.

Kane stepped forward, grunting in approval. "Not bad. You've got grit."

Dikun forced himself upright, his chest heaving. The pain was unbearable, but beneath it was something else — satisfaction.

> Skill: Boxing (F-Class) - 15%

Kane tossed him a damp towel. "Come back tomorrow. Maybe I'll teach you how to throw a real punch."

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The Road Ahead

As Dikun walked out of the gym, the setting sun bathed the city in hues of orange. The system's interface flickered once more.

> Objective Progress: Unlock First Skill - Completed

Skill: Boxing (F-Class)

> Next Objective: Survive Bloodfang High for One Week

Bonus Objective: Establish Your Own Gang (0/10 Members)

Dikun clenched his fists. The bruises on his knuckles throbbed, but he didn't care. He wasn't the same scared kid who had cowered under the senior's fists.

This was only the beginning.

And tomorrow, he would return stronger.