Chapter 13: The First Recorded Technique

Khun and Baam returned to their room.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Khun said. "You've been assigned as a Wave Controller. Your training starts tomorrow. You're really lucky."

"Y-yeah. So, um…" Baam hesitated.

"You're wondering about the girl who helped you, right?" Khun guessed. "She's fine."

Baam let out a breath. "I'm glad."

"But apparently," Khun continued, "she's not the girl you think she is."

"Huh?"

"I asked her. She said she doesn't know who you are."

Khun stood up and stretched. "Looks like you mistook her for someone else."

"…I mistook her…"

"Don't stress about it," Khun said casually. "If you keep climbing the Tower, you'll run into the real one eventually."

Seeing Baam still looked unsure, he added, "But let's say she is the one you're looking for. Then maybe… she just doesn't want to see you."

Baam's eyes widened. "Ah."

"Not right now, anyway."

"Not now?"

"If that's the case," Khun said, "your only option is to get stronger—strong enough that she wants to climb the Tower with you."

Rak chimed in from the side, "That's right. Get stronger, turtle. Then fight me."

Khun grinned. "Train hard."

Baam smiled faintly. "I will."

"Oh, and one more thing." Khun walked to the corner and picked something up. "I got this for you."

He handed Baam a black outfit with yellow lines and a printed number.

From the side, Rak squinted. "Hey, where's mine?"

Khun raised an eyebrow. "Next time I'm at a pet shop, I'll get you a custom collar."

Rak growled, "I'll bite you to pieces!"

"Bring it on, bigface."

"For your information," Rak huffed, "among my people, bigger heads are more desirable!"

Their bickering faded into the background as Baam held the outfit in his hands, eyes reflecting a quiet resolve.

---

The argument between Rak and Khun came to an abrupt end when Baam spoke.

"Um… Khun."

Khun turned, his sharp gaze softening slightly. "What is it?"

Baam hesitated, eyes low, then met Khun's gaze with quiet determination. "Can you teach me some martial arts?"

There was a pause.

"I've decided," Baam said. "I want to become strong."

Khun looked at him for a moment—searching his face for hesitation, doubt—but found only resolve. A slow smile curved his lips.

"That's easy," he said. "But with how little time we have until the next test, don't expect to become a master overnight."

Baam nodded. "I just… want to start somewhere."

"I can teach you the basics," Khun offered. "Footwork. Positioning. Throw a few proper punches."

Rak scoffed and walked off, muttering something about wasting time on weak turtles. That left Khun and Baam alone in the empty corridor.

As they moved to an open area nearby, Baam asked quietly, "Khun… are you from one of the Ten Great Families?"

Khun's steps paused. He glanced over his shoulder, then gave a slight nod. "Yeah. The Khun family."

Baam looked at him curiously. "What's it like?"

Khun's eyes narrowed a little. "Competitive. Ruthless. Everyone trains from childhood, always trying to outdo the others. In my family, strength is currency—and weakness is a stain."

A strange look flickered across Baam's face, but he nodded. "I see."

"Anyway," Khun said, brushing off the tension, "let's begin. Punch me."

"What?"

"You want to learn, right? Start by trying to hit me."

Baam nodded slowly and took a stance. It was awkward—his weight uneven, shoulders tense. He pulled his arm back and launched a punch.

Khun shifted a step to the side. The punch sliced harmlessly through the air.

"Again."

Baam threw another. And another. Each one missed as Khun effortlessly dodged with subtle, minimal movements.

After a dozen failed attempts, Baam let out a breath of frustration. "I can't even touch you…"

Khun crossed his arms. "Because you're doing it all wrong. You're swinging your arm, not punching."

He stepped beside Baam. "Let me show you."

Khun slid into position and threw a punch—not at Baam, but toward an imaginary target. The motion was crisp, efficient. His fist snapped forward with startling speed.

Baam blinked. He barely saw the movement.

"Watch again." Khun repeated the punch, slower this time. "Your feet anchor the motion. Your hips drive it. Your arm is just the finish."

He stepped back. "Now you."

Baam mimicked the stance and tried the movement.

"No. Too stiff. Relax your shoulders." Khun adjusted Baam's arms and shifted his feet. "And keep your center balanced. You'll fall over if you punch like that."

They continued for over an hour. Baam practiced basic punches, footwork, and stances under Khun's constant corrections. The training was intense, but Khun never raised his voice—only calmly refined every movement, again and again.

Eventually, sweat soaked through Baam's clothes. His arms trembled. But his movements had begun to stabilize—still far from polished, but no longer aimless.

After two hours, Khun stepped back. "That's enough for today."

Baam leaned against the wall, panting. "Thank you…"

Khun gave him a brief nod and turned to leave. "Don't slack off. We'll go again tomorrow."

Baam watched him go, then dragged himself to the bath, body aching. The hot water stung, but it was a relief.

Later, he collapsed into bed. His muscles throbbed with fatigue, but his mind felt light—clear. He stared up at the ceiling, recalling Khun's precise movements, the sharp snap of his punches, and the quiet intensity of his voice.

Just as his eyes began to close—

A soft chime echoed in his ears.

A faint blue screen materialized above him.

> System Notification:

> Basic Khun-Style Combat Movements Acquired

Baam blinked. It recorded that...?

So this is what the system can do…

I only practiced for a bit—and it still registered.

He looked at the screen again.

> Skill Level: Entry

> Efficiency: 5%

> Entry – Basic techniques, widely accessible but still effective in skilled hands.

> Tip: Continued practice and guided instruction will accelerate growth.

The screen faded, dissolving into the air.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

One step at a time… I'm getting stronger.