“Technically, we should be starting with basic physical training, but your situation’s a little different.”
“My situation?”
“Well, your body is just... way too weak.”
“......”
I already knew that much, but hearing it straight from soone else still kind of stung.
“No matter how tough my body is, I should at least feel sothing when I take a clean hit. But with you? Nothing. It’s like being punched by a teddy bear.”
“I... I see?”
Was it really that bad?
Honestly, I think Professor Philia’s underestimating her own body here.
Her abs are like cent—how the hell is it fair to say I’m weak for not being able to hurt that?
“But strangely enough, your strike just now had a kind of force that your muscles shouldn’t be able to generate. Like that first counterattack.”
“Uh...”
“So I was wondering... could you tell what that was? If I knew what it was, I could train you more precisely.”
The mont I heard that, I thought, Here it is.
She’s probably been curious about this technique from the start.
But there’s no way I can explain it.
It wasn’t even doing it. It’s just this feeling—my arm shoots out and snaps back, purely on instinct. I don’t even know how it triggers.
It’s kinda like one of those “one-inch punches” you see in comics or novels.
Honestly, I’m not even sure it is a technique. It’s more like a passive effect tagged onto my traits.
Like a one-ti passive that can stop a physical death blow?
So...
“Sorry, I don’t think I can tell you.”
I had no choice but to refuse, and after a short pause, the professor just shrugged it off with a good-natured smile.
“I see. Well, can’t be helped! Still... is there no way to learn it? Like, from a martial school or sothing...”
...Okay, maybe she didn’t totally shrug it off.
She kept muttering to herself as we walked, and I could hear everything.
“Do you belong to a sect or sothing? A master, maybe...?”
“No, self-taught...”
“What? Seriously?”
“I just move based on what feels right...”
“A genius...?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
I an, sure, I wish I were a genius, but unfortunately, I’m not blessed with that kind of talent.
“Hmm... haah, I guess there’s no helping it.”
Leaving her looking visibly disappointed behind , we finally arrived at a facility filled with magic circles all over the place.
“This is the perfect training ground for you!”
“...What is this place?”
“I haven’t used this space in ages. It’s super inefficient, so we barely ever use it. And there haven’t been many students it’s suited for, either.”
She then walked toward a section walled off with glass, wiped so dust off the control panel, and started working the device.
Wooooooom...
One by one, the magic circles began to light up.
“Right now, your body can’t even keep up with my basic training. You’re not even in the kind of shape where walking or running for long is doable.”
I agree completely.
Last ti, I nearly died carrying a 5kg bag of rice from a grocery store five minutes away from the dorm.
Even without carrying anything, my body’s so weak that walking long distances is already pushing it.
My legs are so thin, they might as well be arms.
“You’re short too, and your body weight is crazy low. What do you usually eat?”
“Li—uh, chocolate.”
I did make curry porridge, but if we’re talking quantity, I probably eat more chocolate overall.
It’s not like I even love chocolate that much, but it’s the only way to sneak alcohol in.
“Ughh...”
She looked seriously unimpressed.
“Are you allergic to protein or sothing?”
“Not really.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t have money.”
It’s not just that I don’t like it—though I really don’t like it. I’m not even a fan of eggs, let alone chicken.
Especially dry chicken breast? Sure, I’ll eat it if I have to, but it’s not sothing I want to eat.
But even if I did like it, I couldn’t afford it in the first place.
“I... I see.”
“Yeah, I woke up in a poor household. Lucky .”
“......”
When I told her my family situation, she nodded as if she understood.
“Then why do you eat so much chocolate?”
“Because it keeps from feeling hungry.”
The sweetness and bitterness of the alcohol mix together to make a snack that helps forget I’m starving.
Maybe it’s just , but my brain seems to only process two things: “I’m hungry,” or “This is tasty.” Nothing in between.
“Haaah... well, I guess there’s no helping it. Protein would be better, but given the situation, let’s at least start with so physical activity.”
And then, the magic circles all around began to light up.
“Wanna step inside?”
Following her instructions, I stepped into the massive chamber surrounded by glowing magic circles on all sides.
“This feels weird.”
“It always does the first ti.”
She tapped a few more buttons, and the lights on the walls went dark. Only the circle above remained lit.
Puff!
A heavy blast of air fired down.
I’d already used Fajing earlier, so I couldn’t use my counter, but I dodged it with a support-based evasion.
“This place you’re in trains students with unique physical perception and awareness.”
“......”
“You don’t get it, huh?”
She looked at and smiled knowingly before continuing.
“In short, it’s for people who rely on instinct and tend to ignore what’s right in front of them.”
“Instinct...?”
“That air blast just now—you dodged it even though you never saw it coming, right? That kind of thing.”
“Isn’t it good to be able to dodge on instinct?”
I an, even that spider superhero in the movies could dodge missiles with his eyes closed when he got trapped in an illusion.
“Overall, it’s not a bad situation, but if there’s too much of a gap between your actual perception and what your instincts are doing, it can cause problems. For example, your brain wants to play rock, but your instincts throw scissors instead—completely out of sync.”
“Would that... really happen?”
“Mm... It’s a little embarrassing, but I used this sa setup when I started out. Sothing similar happened to too.”
Oh? A behind-the-scenes story from a side character? Now that’s interesting.
“When your brain can’t keep up with your body, the body takes control. That can lead to choices and outcos you didn’t want.”
She said it flatly, without hesitation.
Maybe it’s because I already knew about her past that it sounded that way.
She once lost soone precious to her on the battlefield.
“You might end up having to abandon soone you could’ve saved. Even if your brain knows you can save them, your instincts make you run away in fear. And what’s the point of instincts like that?”
“I... see.”
Soone I need to save, huh. Would soone like that ever appear for in this world?
...Hard to say, for now.
“So this training is basically about mastering your instincts and attack perception.”
“Then... how long does this go on for?”
“......”
She didn’t answer. Just smiled.
“Professor?”
“As long as you can take it.”
And then, all the magic circles lit up across my field of vision.
Wooooooooooooom—!
“Wait—just a sec—give a mont to prepare—!!”
Inside a space no bigger than about 13 square ters, countless air blasts started flying at .
Front, back, left, right, above, below.
They didn’t hurt that badly, but I definitely felt them when I got hit.
And with the professor watching from right in front, there was no way I could slack off or half-ass my dodging.
‘Well... guess I’ll give it a shot.’
PAAANG!!
Dodging a few was possible.
I ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) ducked under the blasts that ca from above, and if I could sense the breeze, I twisted out of the way.
But that was all thanks to the support evasion built into my trait.
The mont I forcibly shut it off and tried dodging with just my body, I stiffened and got smacked by every single attack.
“Ugh...”
PFF! PAF-PFTH!!
My hair kept whipping into my eyes because of the wind—annoying as hell.
Maybe I should just cut it.
Why do female characters in action or hero stories always have long hair anyway?
When it flies around this much, it’s nothing but a pain.
Still—I focus.
Hair doesn’t matter right now.
I close my eyes and focus entirely on my senses.
I feel the wind approaching , and I try to understand why my Drunken Fist’s support evasion insists so much on avoiding these things.
Shhhhhhh...
Winds and air blasts flying all around this space.
The air currents weaving between them.
The layers of chaotic airflow and turbulence are tangled and hard to read.
Fwooooh...
And then—
PAAANG!
“Ow.”
PFMP!
“Gah.”
.
.
.
.
.
I got smacked around by air blasts for dozens of minutes.
Even though I was moving like crazy, the air was cool enough that the sweat dried fast—but my stamina was completely gone.
“Haah... haah...”
If I were a genius, I would’ve already figured out the support evasion and shouted, ‘I’ve awakened! I’ve grasped the core of dodging!’
But sadly, I wasn’t that kind of person. I just kept getting hit again and again.
“Hurts...”
After getting hit in the sa spots for this long, even air starts to hurt.
While I was training, the professor had gone off to check on other students and now returned, watching rub my bruised spots with a puzzled look.
“Huh? You still haven’t gotten the hang of it?”
“No... unfortunately, I haven’t.”
“That’s weird. If you were self-taught to that level, I thought you’d get it done already.”
“How long did it take you, Professor...?”
“?”
And then she says the most ridiculous number.
“Uh... five minutes? I an, I had the fastest record, but even the others usually finished around then.”
“The others...?”
“I don’t know if you’d know them—people like Beryl Einshvaltz or Carnoa or whatever...”
Are you freaking kidding ?! Those are all high-tier, endga monsters!
And here she is casually na-dropping them like it’s nothing. Just as I was starting to feel totally worn out—
“But it’s fine! We’ve got plenty of ti.”
“Huh? What do you an, fine...”
“Oh, I talked to the other professors and cleared your whole schedule for today. That ans you can train all day long!”
“...Huh?”
No "are you kidding ?" escaped my mouth. Her face looked way too serious for that—like she was just stating the obvious.
“Then what about my other classes...?”
“Ah, it won’t slow down your progress or anything. You couldn’t keep up physically anyway, so it’d be hard to take those classes at all.”
“Ah... Aaaagh!!!”
And thus began the longest day of my entire life.
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