8. Day 1 - Training

Date: Jul 21, 2025

Training started earlier than I expected.

The sky was still a dull grey, barely touched by the light of dawn.

The air smelled like wet rust, thick with the chill of lingering dew.

I was about to pull the thin blanket over my head for just five more minutes when—

Bang!!!

The door slammed open with a jarring crack.

"Wake Up, Wake Up, Up. Now" said a voice like cold steel.

Xia stood in the doorway, dressed in a black cloak that billowed slightly with the draft.

Her tightly braided hair made her sharp features look even more angular in the half-light.

Her eyes, clear and cutting, left no room for debate.

Yin and I nearly fell out of bed. I was still fumbling for my coat when she marched in,

grabbed me by the collar, and dragged me out without another word.

"Your words, you want to protect someone," she said as we stumbled after her, half-awake and already breathless. Her voice wasn't loud, but it sliced through the silence like a blade.

"Then we start by teaching you how not to die."

The "training ground" was a rooftop

—cracked tiles, broken bricks, and no safety rails.

Just wind, dust, and a barely stable surface above the slums of Ulann City.

Below us, the city groaned in its misery, but up here, the silence was brutal.

"Xia Auntie!" Little Bun tugged on Xia's cloak.

"Can I train too? I want to become stronger, so I don't need people to keep saving me. One day, I want to protect everyone too!"

Xia glanced down, then crouched, her face unreadable.

"You're still young, Bun. This training is too dangerous."

"But Bun has already fought before!" I stepped in.

"She's held her own in battle—and she even leveled up. She's not just a kid anymore."

Xia watched me for a moment. Then she looked at Bun again.

"Fine," she said. "But she follows every single one of my instructions.

No exceptions."

"Got it—got it—got it!!" Bun grinned so wide her eyes disappeared.

"Thank you, Sister Jessic! Thank you, Xia auntie! You're the best!"

And just like that, training began.

Less than five minutes in,

I was already regretting everything.

"Little system," I hissed under my breath, trying not to sound like I was complaining

—though I definitely was. "Is this really necessary?"

[Yes, master.]

[This is rare-grade, Level-A rogue combat conditioning.]

[Extremely effective for dodge timing, counter prediction, and sensory adaptation.]

[System Recommended: endurance.]

Endurance? She just tried to crush my skull with a flying brick!

"You," Xia said, pointing at me. Her eyes locked onto mine like crosshairs. "Attack me."

"Wait—huh?" I blinked. "Now?"

"Attack."

Her tone was calm. Almost too calm. It sounded less like an order and more like a fact.

A warning.

I hesitated, but then pulled out my bow and notched an arrow, trying to center myself.

I aimed carefully at her chest.

Before I could even breathe, she vanished.

Smoke? No—just speed.

"Wha—?"

A breeze kissed the back of my neck.

I turned too late.

"You're dead," she whispered behind me.

I froze. A dagger was pressed gently to the base of my skull.

No pressure—but ice rippled down my spine.

That's when it hit me. This wasn't "training." This was survival, disguised as a lesson.

And she wasn't holding back.

The next two hours were chaos.

Yin and I became moving targets in a deadly dance.

Xia barked commands—attack, reposition, analyze—like she was reading out of a combat manual. Every move we made, she countered with surgical precision.

Wham!

Her knuckles jabbed into the soft crook of my elbow.

"Ahh—!" I dropped to one knee, arm screaming in pain.

"Your guard's too open," she said flatly.

Yin didn't fare much better.

She threw him to the ground more than once.

He even coughed up blood at one point, and she didn't so much as blink.

"Your brain moves slower than your feet," she said coolly.

"In the arena, no one waits for you to decide if you want to live."

She moved so fast it was like she bent the air.

And yet—I couldn't bring myself to hate her.

Because somewhere deep down,

I knew every hit, every scolding, every perfectly calculated dodge

—it was all pushing us forward.

She didn't want to hurt us. But she was forcing us to grow.

I began to notice things. The direction of the wind when she moved. The shift in her weight.

The pressure in the ground before she struck.

I began to hear her boots scuff the tiles.

My senses strained to catch every whisper of movement.

Then, she stopped.

"What are you thinking right now?" she asked suddenly.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my lip.

"I'm thinking…" I swallowed, "...how to win."

"Not how to survive?"

"Surviving's the bare minimum," I said, meeting her eyes. "I want to win."

For the first time, her expression changed. Just a little.

She nodded.

"Then prepare yourself. Tomorrow will be worse."

She turned to walk away, leaving behind only one sentence:

"The arena is not a game. Lose, and you die."

Yin and I collapsed on the rooftop, lungs heaving, bruises blooming across every inch of skin.

"She's… a demon," Yin rasped, barely able to lift his head.

I let out a weak laugh. Every muscle in my body burned. But inside—I felt steady.

"She's our cheat code," I whispered. "She's what we need."

But Xia wasn't done yet.

"Next," she called out, tossing something onto the ground in front of us.

Blindfolds. And wooden practice swords.

"Defense and reaction," she said.

"You're not serious," I groaned.

"Use your ears. First one to detect and block the opponent's strike wins.

In the dark, your instincts matter more than your eyes."

We strapped on the blindfolds.

Total darkness.

Thunk!

Something struck my forehead.

"OW!"

"System! Yin did that on purpose!"

[This is part of the lesson.]

[No interference.]

I gritted my teeth, flailing wildly. But Yin had already shifted to another side.

Smack.

Right in the back.

"Don't rely on your eyes," Xia said calmly. "You won't always see your enemy."

We must've looked like idiots—two blindfolded teenagers swinging wildly like broken puppets.

And yeah, it was kind of ridiculous.

But then... something started to change.

I felt the air shift. Yin's breathing. The way his foot brushed the tile. T

he faintest tremor when he moved.

And I responded—just a second faster.

"Stop," Xia finally called.

She gathered the sticks and led us back inside.

I was bruised, cut, filthy. My shirt was torn and crusted with blood and dirt.

But my heartbeat?

Steady.

For the first time since arriving in this nightmare world—I felt strong.

At the threshold, Xia paused. She turned back and gave us the smallest glance over her shoulder.

[Congratulations, Master. All attributes have increased.]

"Tomorrow," Xia said, "we go to the arena."

Wait—already?

"It's only Day Two!" I blurted.

"To know your enemy," she said, "you must know the battlefield.

You need to understand the rules before you face a noble in combat."

She stepped closer. Her eyes were serious. Unshakable.

"I don't want you to lose," she said softly.

"Because this fight… is bigger than just you."

She looked at us—really looked at us.

"It's the future of the slums. The hope of the resistance. And me, your teacher.

I want to see if you can carry the weight of that promise."

Her words hit harder than any of her punches.

It wasn't just about Bun anymore.

I had to do this.

I had to win.

My legs were shaking by the time we got back to the house.

Every step felt like walking on splinters.

My arms hung limp at my sides, like dead branches barely attached to my shoulders.

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to cry or throw up. Maybe both.

Little Bun trotted beside me, barely winded,

humming to herself and swinging her arms like she'd just returned from a fun picnic.

How?!

"You okay?" Yin asked as we stumbled into the common room.

"Fine," I managed, before collapsing onto the nearest pile of rags that passed for a couch.

My back spasmed in protest.

"I think I grew abs just from clenching," Yin muttered, slumping down beside me.

We both burst out laughing.

It wasn't the elegant, movie-style laughter.

More like the kind that borders on hysterical.

The kind that spills out because if you don't laugh, you'll scream.

Across the room, Xia leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

She was still calm. Unbothered. Like the entire training session hadn't even raised her heartbeat.

"You two held up better than expected," she said, her tone unreadable. "Not good. But not hopeless."

That was her version of a compliment, apparently.

"Why did you choose to help us?" I asked her quietly, as Yin and Bun dozed off in their respective corners.

Xia looked at me, her expression flickering for the first time.

"I've seen people like you before," she said. "Thrown into this world unprepared. Idealistic. Soft. They die."

Her words cut, but they weren't cruel. Just… honest.

"But you fought back," she added. "You didn't give up.

And when I saw you protect Bun even when you were bleeding out…

I knew you were worth testing."

She paused.

"I don't waste my time on people I don't believe in."

My chest tightened.

This wasn't about some random arena fight anymore.

This wasn't just a way to prove I was strong.

It was about not letting her down.

About proving that her belief in me wasn't misplaced.

That night, I lay awake, staring at the cracked ceiling.

The pain in my limbs was nothing compared to the storm in my mind.

I thought about home. About my school uniform.

About my mum's gentle scolding and the smell of kaya toast on Sunday mornings.

And I realized… I wasn't that girl anymore.

That girl would've cried at the first bruise.

That girl would've begged someone else to fight in her place.

But now? I had scars. Skills. A purpose.

I turned to look at Bun, curled up like a tiny bean under a ratty blanket.

I would fight for her.

For Yin.

For Xia, who believed in us when no one else did.

And for myself—because this world had taken everything from me except my will.

I would show them.

I would survive.

And in three days

—I would win.

Day 1 gone.