Getting Bullied By The F*cking SIM

He was back in the simulation chamber.

It was the same empty white room and the same cool hum under his feet. But something felt different, it was like the place had been quietly updating itself while he was at school watching Hiro fail to open hot sauce packets.

His gear shimmered into place — cloak, gloves, better boots, that same beat-up sword — and his loadout clicked in with a solid thunk. The interface floated up in front of him, sleeker than before. Like the system finally decided he was worth tidying up for.

[WELCOME BACK, ZERO]

[SIMULATION STATUS: SYNC RATE – 99.99%]

The main lobby expanded with a low chime. New doors appeared, it was tall, arched, and glowing faintly with static-blue glyphs. Each labeled in bold, sharp letters like someone had a flair for dramatic signage.

He stepped forward and one door lit up:

[MULTI-WAVE HALL + REFLEX CORRIDOR CHALLENGE]

Another window popped.

[Warning: Training Modules contain escalating difficulty.]

[Injury risk: HIGH.]

Lanz stared at it for a beat, then cracked his knuckles.

"Perfect," he said. "I was totally in the mood to dying."

[...]

"Sarcasm. Ever heard of it, System-chan?" said Lanz, looking disappointed.

And with that, he walked through the door.

The new chamber was massive.

Circular, high-ceilinged, lined with evenly spaced weapon racks and soft glowing sigils that pulsed along the walls like a heartbeat. It didn't feel like a simulation anymore, it felt like an arena.

Lanz stepped in and immediately cracked his neck left, then right.

"So dramatic. Just once I want a training room with a beanbag chair."

As he reached the center, a door slid open, and from it walked a humanoid trainee.

Same build as the last one — light tunic, padded vest, wooden sword in hand — but this one didn't glitch or stand still. It moved with steady rhythm, gaze locked on Lanz like it had something to prove.

He raised his blade, mirrored the stance, and smiled.

"Round two, huh?"

The trainee didn't answer, obviously. But it did charge instead.

Lanz caught the strike cleanly, his sword vibrating from the force. He pivoted, slid to the right, let the next blow whistle past. But the dummy used that as momentum and slashed, but Lanz blocked, stepped to the side, and countered. The rhythm was back. His feet felt lighter now, his arms more sure.

"Alright," he muttered, eyes narrowing, "I've memorized you like a b*tch."

He closed in and ended it with a clean shoulder tap, followed by a spin that knocked the trainee's legs out. One final thrust into the chest, and the figure froze mid-motion — flickering into static before falling.

[WAVE ONE: CLEAR]

He didn't even have time to celebrate.

[WAVE TWO: INITIATING]

Two doors hissed open this time and two trainees stepped out in unison.

They circled him like wolves. Lanz backed up, trying to keep them both in view. The first one darted in with a high feint and the second came low and fast, and clipped Lanz across the hip.

"Sh*t," he hissed, stumbling sideways. "So that's what teamwork feels like."

He switched tactics, no more reactive defense. Lanz started testing spacing, making little fakes of his own, baiting them into crossing paths. The left trainee stepped forward, Lanz stepped back. Right trainee lunged, and Lanz slid under and kicked him square in the shin.

It yelped. Or glitched... He wasn't sure which. But the moment of chaos was enough.

He turned the two of them against each other. Kept slipping through the gaps, redirecting blows, using their momentum to unbalance the rhythm.

The fight stretched longer. Five minutes or maybe ten.

But in the end, both trainees dropped.

One from a hook to the ribs, the other from a brutal parry that turned into a gut-thrust.

[WAVE TWO: CLEAR]

[NEW PASSIVE TAG UNLOCKED: COMBAT AWARENESS – LVL 1]

Lanz hunched over, panting lightly, arms sore, breath ragged, but still smiling. That kind of smile you only get after barely not dying.

The next wave didn't wait.

The floor rippled under his boots like water before hardening again, and the arena reshaped itself in real time.

Steps rose from the edges, platforms forming uneven elevation along the walls. Lights narrowed into a focused glow above the center ring.

Then the doors opened.

Three figures this time. Bulkier than before.

Their armor was basic — simulated iron with dull shine — but it still made them look ten times harder to kill. One carried a longsword, one had a short spear and buckler, and the last spun a dagger between gloved fingers like he was born in a back alley.

"F*ck," Lanz muttered. "Now I have to fight the three musketeer of death?"

They moved together.

He dodged back, barely avoiding a spear jab that tried to pin him to the floor. The longsword dummy came in from the right, he blocked it with both arms on the hilt, but the weight sent him skidding.

He had to roll, again, just to breathe. Suddenly, he felt someone behind him, it was dagger dummy going for blind spot, but he managed to block. Using his right leg, he somehow landed a hit on the hip.

He didn't get a second kick in. The dummy backed up and were already repositioning.

"Okay, you dumb f*ck, think."

He bolted for higher ground, hopping up a narrow platform. From above, he had a better view. The three spread out below like chess pieces.

Longsword came climbing after him first.

Lanz backed off, pulled the figure toward the narrowest ledge, and baited a wide horizontal swing. As it came, he ducked and kicked the trainee's legs from under it. Dummy fell hard and didn't get back up.

CLANK.

Only two left.

The dagger dummy blurred, he was fast, way too fast, zipping up the opposite stairway. Lanz didn't wait for him to close the gap. He dropped down into a roll, cloak fluttering, body sliding to the lower level again.

Spear followed.

A thrust grazed his shoulder, nearly turned his collar into a kebab. Lanz grunted, spun out of reach, and circled the two remaining enemies.

He kept low.

The cloak helped, trailed behind him just enough to throw off their tracking. He ducked around pillars, let them lose sight, then popped out to score a hit on the dagger dummy's wrist. Didn't do much. But it threw off his rhythm.

He feinted left, then dashed right, forcing them to collide mid-step.

Momentum finally shifted, so he pressed the advantage, slicing across the dagger dummy's leg, then turning and hammering the spear trainee's buckler arm. The clang echoed like a fire alarm.

But, it was still not enough. Both dummies staggered back, resetting.

Lanz panted, his eyes scanning and blade lowered.

"Come on, come on…"

Then they charged again.

"F*ck," he yelled, fixing his stance, "Drop already."

He stepped into the dagger slash, twisted at the last second, let it pass clean over his shoulder, and slammed his weight into the dummy's chest and it staggered back, and he cut the dummy's head clean off.

Lanz turned on his heel, caught the edge of the buckler with his blade, and knocked the spear aside with a sharp redirect.

In the same motion, he slashed twice, fast arcs.

Both cuts landed across the chestplates.

The dummies froze. Cracks split down their frames, then they dropped, like marionettes with their strings cut.

[WAVE THREE: CLEAR]

[OPTIONAL ROUND 4 UNLOCKED: "MULTI-WAVE REFLEX CORRIDOR"]

The system's notice was too calm, it was almost smug.

Lanz dropped to one knee, sweat dripping from his jaw.

"Optional?" he wheezed. "You know what? Maybe I'll relax for 1 minute."

***

A minute has gone by, then stood.

"Yeah, no. We don't do optional here."

He raised his sword and pointed it toward the new glowing door.

The door slid open with a hiss that felt way too smug for something not alive.

Lanz stepped through, panting, still sore, probably bruised in six different interesting shapes. His arms still shook from the last wave, but his feet didn't stop moving.

Not after that win.

The hallway ahead was long, thirty meters, give or take. Straight path, clean walls, white tiles, and glowing strips of soft blue along the floor, like some fancy space-age airport lounge.

Except this lounge came with pressure plates, glowing targets, and a reputation for maybe killing people.

Text floated up:

[Welcome to Timed Reflex Corridor]

[Initiating sequence in

3…

2…

1…]

The moment the "1" faded, the corridor came alive.

Pillars retracted from the walls. Swords, literal swords was swinging. One flew past his face and sheared off a few strands of his hair.

"WHAT THE SH—?!"

Lanz threw himself to the side, tripped over a pressure tile, and got launched six feet by an air cannon to the ribs. He landed flat on his back, wheezing like a deflated balloon.

Overhead, a sign flickered:

[PENALTY –2 SEC | FORM RATING: LAUGHABLE]

"Okay," he wheezed, staring up at the ceiling. "I wasn't sure of it before, but I can confirm now that this place hates me."

He scrambled upright. Ahead, more tiles lit up. The second row of panels opened, spring-loaded arms shot forward with padded fists, way too fast for beginner mode.

He tried to dash, but the floor under him tilted suddenly, throwing off his balance just in time for a foam mallet to bonk him square in the jaw.

He stumbled back, arms flailing.

[PENALTY –1 SEC | STYLE RATING: TRAGIC]

"Who programmed this sadistic carnival?!"

His foot landed firmer this time.

The next light node flickered, he moved before it activated.

The next pressure tile hissed, he twisted sideways, and the trap missed by inches.

Lanz's mind lagged half a second behind his own movements. His body was doing the work. His brain was just along for the ride.

A blade arm shot out from the left. He ducked, pivoted, rolled through the next segment like he meant it.

He wasn't thinking, he was reacting.

A flash above blinded his eyes, but he kicked off a tile, flipped midair, and landed in a crouch. Dust scattered and sparks snapped from a wall-mounted node he'd just avoided.

[SPEED BONUS +1 SEC | AGILITY RATING: CLEAN]

By the time he reached the last ten meters, he wasn't even registering the traps anymore. He was just moving and dodging before he saw, tilting before the floor shifted, turning before a trap even hissed.

The corridor tried to trick him, randomized delays, overlapping patterns, double-fakes. All of it, just to fool him.

It didn't matter, he just flowed through all of it.

He stumbled across the final line and collapsed onto one knee, gasping like a dog.

[REFLEX SYNC Lv.1 ACQUIRED]

[Synchronization Threshold Reached: 42% Predictive Movement Achieved]

"Holy… crap," Lanz muttered, head tilted back. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his whole body felt like it had been used to test crash dummies.

But he was grinning. Why? Because this was working.

The simulation lobby faded back in, it was quiet, sterile, almost too peaceful after the madness he just sprinted through. Lanz stood there, chest heaving, sweat-soaked, and grinning like someone who just outran the Grim Reaper and stole his lunch money.

Then the system chimed.

[ALT LEVEL UP — LEVEL 5 REACHED]

Skill Slot Unlocked. Loadout Customization Enabled.

New Equipment Available: [Aged Blade Fragment – ??? Rarity]

He let out a slow breath, half-laugh. "Oh, thank f*cking finally."

Another panel shimmered into view, glowing faint gold.

[Choose Skill for Slot 1]

A bunch of icons flickered, most of them greyed out. Some had weird tags like [LEGACY MODULE] or [BETA INCOMPLETE], which was... not at all concerning.

But one stood out.

It glowed brighter than the rest, a simple option with a jagged sword icon and blue glyphs beneath.

[Skill Learned: Feint Step Lv.1]

[Description: A sudden misdirect movement. Grants +10% Evasion on activation for 2 seconds. Can cancel current animation. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]

"Oh, yes," Lanz whispered, eyes lighting up. "Hello, panic button."

He swiped to accept and the system flashed.

Then another window opened.

[Inventory: Unlocked.]

[Aged Blade Fragment: Now Equipable.]

He equipped it, as soon as he selected it, a shudder ran through the sim space, like the whole program hiccupped. The fragment materialized in mid-air, hovering.

It didn't look like much, just a dull cracked sword piece. It wasn't even sharp, but something about it buzzed in his palm, not like power. More like potential...

[Item Equipped: Aged Blade Fragment – ??? Rarity]

[Status: Bound.

Effect: Unknown.]

Lanz tilted his head. "...Cool, so it does nothing. Love that."

"I'm just gonna use this basic ass sword for now. Maybe this bound sword does something cool in the future."

Another pulse ran through the air.

The lobby faded slightly, not shutting down, but dimming. Like it was telling him: "Session's over, nerd. Go hydrate," or something.

Lanz stretched, wincing as something in his back popped. "Yeah, yeah. Message received."

As far as grind sessions went? This one was goated.

He tapped the prompt. The world blinked like last time.

And then he was gone.

End of Chapter 5.

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ALT SYSTEM — USER PROFILE: ZERO

Level: 5

EXP: 0 / 50

Next Unlock: Skill Upgrade Token (Level 6)

Global System Tracking: DISABLED

World Rank Association: UNLINKED

Stats

STR: 4 | AGI: 4 | VIT: 3 | DEX: 1 | INT: 0 | WIS: 0

Skills

[Basic Footwork Lv.2]

[Blade Control Lv.1]

[Parry Timing Lv.1]

[Feint Step Lv.1] (NEW – Active Skill)

[Reflex Sync Lv.1] (NEW – Passive Skill)

[Combat Awareness Lv.1] (NEW – Passive Skill)

Equipment

Aged Blade Fragment (??? Rarity) (NEW – Bound)

Lightweight Chest Padding

Boots of Basic Mobility

Fingerless Gloves (Basic)

Starter Cloak: Faded Black

Training Ring (+1 VIT)

Inventory Highlights

[Simulation Module: Reflex Corridor]