Training

Weekends are great. No duties, no responsibilities, no reason to wake up early, so I just sleep in until late in the day. By the time my eyes open, the sun is already shining bright in the sky and onto my eyes through the gap in the curtains, forcing me to get up and get started with my day. 

Just like me, Gali has slept in too and her holographic form is snoozing away on top of my second pillow. Now that I think about it, she hasn't left my side even once. I would have thought she would just be here occasionally to check in on me or help when I have questions, but she has stayed put 24/7, even while sleeping.

Yesterday was a tiring one and lasted long into the night, with me pushing myself to clear both the second and third levels of the dungeon in their entirety in one go, a process that turned out to take me until five in the morning. Unfortunately, I didn't get any increases in my stats, but I suppose that is to be expected. I did however manage to get some sort of weird rune that Gali said I can use on any clothing or armor to increase its defensive capabilities, something I have saved for now as I wanna get my hands on something worthy of using it and not waste it on random store bought clothes.

Maybe I can stumble my way into some luck in the dungeon, and if not, I will just have to use my Inventor skill to make something myself.

What I did however find out about myself in the dungeon, something that should have been obvious to everyone including me from the start, is that I have no clue how to fight. Swinging your body around randomly to hit things is all well and good when they are weak enough to crumble at the slightest amount of pressure, but once I came face to face with a boss with similar stats to me on the third floor, I quickly started struggling.

That is why my plan for today is not to spend all day in the dungeon, but instead get at least some basic fighting techniques under my belt. I doubt any reputable place in New York could teach me how to fight beasts to the death or how to use my fairly unique weapon, but something is better than nothing and when I'm risking my life in every fight I will gladly take that something.

Without getting up from the bed or waking up Gali I reach over to the bedside table and pick up my phone to browse for good places. The only one that really comes to my mind from marvel is the Murdock Gym, but considering the devil of Hell's Kitchen is already active, it's safe to assume Jack Murdock himself is long dead, and the gym closed and abandoned. I doubt I could get stick to be my teacher in any way either, not an easy guy to track down as far as I know.

Blindly looking at training places in Google Maps, the first one I come across that is highly rated is a place called The Yancy Street Gym, a place famous for having formerly trained the absolute unit known as The Thing, now a member of The Fantastic Four. I make a mental note of the place and move on with my search.

I stumble across a few other places across the city with a seemingly good reputation, though nothing crazy. None of the names really ring a bell, either, meaning they probably aren't super important in terms of marvel lore. Not that I am super knowledgeable or anything, I watched quite a few of the MCU movies and read a few comics in my past life, but that's about it, so there is a good chance I just don't know about them.

Finally, I end up looking at a website for a dojo that is constantly on top of the search list and heavily advertised and pushed to me. A place called the Chikara Dojo.

The name feels like something I have heard before, but I just can't place from where. The website also heavily features their two-star teachers Danny Rand and Colleen Wing, both names I definitely have heard of before but again, heroes, villains or some side characters I can't remember.

No better way to find out than to join, though.

My mind made up, I climb out of bed and take a quick shower before putting on clothes. By the time I get out of the bathroom, Gali is also awake.

[We heading out to buy another set of clothes for the dungeon?] She asks curiously, taking her spot on top of my shoulder, where she spends the majority of her time.

"Probably later, but first I wanna stop by a place to train. I looked up some potential gyms and picked out a candidate. We will check it out today and if it's bad, I have time to try another one tomorrow," I say, picking out some clothes appropriate for training into a backpack that I sling over my shoulder.

[Umu, I guess almost getting cleaved in half by that axe wielding hobgoblin made you want to improve. Alright, let's go.]

The two of us headed out and take a subway over to Chinatown in southern Manhattan, where the dojo was located. It was not a very long trip, just about 15 minutes including the wait time.

Right away as we got there it became clear that the place had a distinct look of 'being past its prime'. It was still very much operational, as I saw another person with a gym bag slung over their shoulder enter seconds before I arrived, but it had this feeling of being out of time with paint peeling from the outer walls and the plants outside dying from a lack of watering.

As I step inside, it isn't much better. There is an empty front desk and two changing rooms, but I can also see inside the dojo itself where the mats on the ground look to be worn and losing their covering while the lights are dim and most of the windows are closed off, blocking the natural light of the sun from reaching inside.

The only thing that stopped me from turning around and leaving was the audible sound of students training and fighting inside, which means there must be something worth sticking around for, despite the place not looking to be in peak condition.

While I was standing and observing, one of the teachers who had been walking around and giving tips to anyone he saw making mistakes took notice of me and walked over. 

The man approaching me was a middle-aged Asian man. He had short slicked back black hair with a few strands of gray mixed in. He gave off an aura of a man who demanded discipline from anyone around him and would shut down a brawl just by walking into the room.

"You're new" He states, his voice deep but still friendly. He extends a hand to shake. "Looking to sign up?"

"That was the plan, yeah." I nod, reaching out to shake his hand, which somehow turns into a competition of strength as we each put more effort into it. Come on, man, I just got here. "Thought I would at least try it out first and see how I like it." 

"Fair." He says with a half smile, eventually letting go of my hand. "I'm Saburo Yamada, one of the lead instructors here. First day is free and if you like it, you can sign up for a monthly subscription after. That work for you?"

"Perfect." I say as he puts his hands behind his back.

"How'd you hear about this place?" He asks, sounding curious.

"Online, your site popped up first." I say, deciding to see if I can fish up some information from him. "The names Danny Rand and Colleen Wing looked familiar, figured that meant the place had some history to it."

At the mention of those names, the man's brow lifted slightly before nodding thoughtfully. "You must follow news on martial arts tournaments, then. Those two are our two most well known teachers and have won a great deal of tournaments to build a legacy despite their ages. They're… out on a journey right now though. Been a tough few months without them, but I've been keeping the place running."

"You run the place alone?"

"Oh gods, no, there are other instructors." Yamada laughs. "I'm just the head guy for now. Come on, I'll walk you through what we can offer here."

He turns around and leads me into the dojo to get a better view of the ongoing training. There are roughly twenty or so students actively training, split into groups in different sections of the room, along with teachers who were watching over them. Some were doing basic exercise, while others were sparring under their instructor's guidance.

We stop in the doorway and look into the room as Yamada gestures to each of the distinct groups.

"We teach three primary disciplines." He explained. "Swordsmanship, mainly with bamboo or wooden swords, Colleen used to be the main instructor for that but for now we have a different one. A more traditional eastern style that focuses on speed and fluid movement, rooted in Shaolin, Wushu and Kung Fu, this used to be Danny's area of expertise. And finally a western style: boxing, wrestling, grappling and the like."

He gave me a sidewise glance. "So which would you be interested in?"

I take a moment to think. The sword might be useful since even though what I use is kind of a strange mix between a sword and spear, not to mention being double-sided, I still slash it around like one. But in the end I think I should leave that for now, my main reason being that I got my current weapon on the literal first floor of the dungeon and I never know if I might get something better that is completely different in the future making my training, if not useless, at least less relevant.

"I don't need the sword right now," I say after thinking it through. "Between the other two, I think both could be useful. I've got no formal training, but I've had to throw hands a few times recently."

"Then you are not looking to learn for sport." He stated. It was not a question.

"No." I admit, I wasn't planning on wasting my time in any tournaments for trophies and medals.

"Alright." He nodded, no change of tone in his voice. "We don't judge reasons. Some people want to win glory, others just want confidence, or to defend themselves. Either way, what you need is a foundation first, and then you can build upon that however you like."

He paused for a moment as his eyes scanned the two groups which I was interested in. "I'll start you with Ryusei. He was one of Rand's students. Runs the eastern arts group now. You can go ahead and get changed, then make your way to him. I'll go ahead and give him a heads-up while you are doing that."

I do as told without wasting time, going to the male changing room to change clothes. As I make it back and enter the dojo, something catches my eye. Every teacher, including Yamada as well as several students, wear the very same red headband with a symbol of a hand on it.

I have definitely seen that symbol before but whe- OH!

Right. Colleen Wing. The Hand.

Yeah, okay, I know where I am now. In the territory of the bad guys. They do give good training though, since their henchmen are no joke from what I remember. Might be worth sticking around but cut my losses before It's too late.

Before I can spiral down that line of thought, I reach the group which Yamada had sorted me into earlier. The teacher, Ryusei, was currently watching over two students run a paired drill, a mixture of deflections and strikes that were extremely quick and flowed so well it almost looked like a dance to my untrained eye.

"Uhh… teacher?" I wasn't sure what I should be calling them. Since they look Japanese, do I call them sensei?

"Hmm? Oh, you are the new one Sensei told me about." He said, looking me over from top to bottom, before turning to the students he was just looking over. "You two continue on as you have been. If you have any questions, feel free to come interrupt me any time."

He turned back to me and his feet shifted into a stance. "You're in good shape, so let's see what you've got. I heard you have no experience, so just try to hit me in any way you can. No technique needed."

"Really?" I hesitated, not sure why, though.

"You will learn fast when you try. This is also a good way for me to see what level you are starting off at, so go on." He says, not bothered in the least.

"Alright, your funeral." I say and he chuckles slightly. Of course, it wouldn't be his funeral, but fake confidence is better than no confidence.

I lunge forward, trying to throw a quick jab at his chest, the largest area to land a hit on. He dodged with zero effort, his legs didn't even move from their place, just his body shifted to the side as he dodged by a hair. I try again, and again, and again, with each attempt ending the same, though he did have to move his feet as well to take a step to the side or to retreat a few times which I could maybe count as a small win.

He didn't strike back, instead just kept evading as I tire myself out. Finally, as I go for another hit for his right shoulder he moves to catch my fist in his hand and follows that up with a sweep of his leg that I somehow, almost instinctively, manage to hop over. What I don't manage to hop over though is him planting his leg firmly on the ground and spinning his body to do another sweep with his other leg, causing me to land on my back as it knocks the wind out of me.

One second I was standing up, the next I was on my back staring at the ceiling. But the man looked satisfied with what he saw.

"Your movement is raw." He said, looking down at me. "But I've got to hand it to you. You have good speed and reaction time, even the power behind the hit that I caught was nothing to scoff at. You also watch your opponent more than most rookies and managed to dodge a hit. Overall, a very good start."

Thanks." I grunted, pulling myself up. Unfortunately, the compliment was followed up with reality.

"But your balance is shit, your footwork is even worse, and you fight like someone who has only ever watched anime or is pretending to be a video game boss whose attacks are all easy to read and well telegraphed."

"And you can help me fix that, right?"

He gives a faint smile in response. "Of course. With the level you are at right now, you will see huge improvements in no time. We will start from the basics with you, and you can go from there in any direction you wish with your style. But remember this, style is just a tool. Don't marry it. In a real fight, your goal isn't to look pretty but to survive, to win."

He stepped back into a stance. "You have a knife and your opponent doesn't? Use it, end the fight quickly, no need to get fancy. That's what we teach here. Practical, adaptable, and if need be, brutal."

I found myself nodding, fully agreeing with him. This works perfectly for me, who is fighting to kill not to show off in front of a crowd.

And like that, I ended up joining the dojo and began my training there.

***

Author notes: Now that we are 10 chapters in, I would like to ask for any feedback or criticism any of you might have.

As I said earlier I haven't uploaded anything I wrote for a long time and English isn't my first language either so any feedback about the story, grammar or writing style is appreciated so I can improve.