??Chapter 1011: Chapter 998: I Love Studying, Really
Chapter 1011: Chapter 998: I Love Studying, Really
“Let’s hear your opinions,” said the head of the clan, seated at the highest position in the spacious, tiered conference room. He picked up a gavel from beside him and knocked it, sending a strange wave across the room that forcibly silenced everyone.
“What’s gotten into this kid? Weren’t the previous trainings satisfactory? Why is he suddenly making such a demand?” a clan elder frowned.
“Well, although we think the training results are quite good, this young fellow seems to be very dissatisfied and has made a request to the clan.”
“He’s still not satisfied after all this? What more does he want?”
“According to him, the talents we’ve assigned him haven’t even t half of his expected requirents.”
“The current level is already quite good.”
“But he wants better.”
“Does this an he wants to train the thirteen talents, including my grandson, in a more cruel way?” an elderly woman expressed her concerns with a painful expression. She was very dissatisfied with Muria’s training thods, but it was a clan decision, and her dissent alone was futile.
“If we want much better results, increasing the training intensity is inevitable. There’s no need to even ask that!”
“But increasing the training might lead to fatalities, right?”
“I think we should agree to his request, as long as we adhere to the bottom line and ensure their safety. We have been too peaceful for too long. The combat power of our Federation Starmor Masters is half a level behind that of the Empire and the Church’s Starmor Masters, completely no match for them.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that. The Empire borders the territories of the Celestial kind and is always at war, so it’s normal that their Starmor Masters are stronger than ours. As for the Church, that’s a group of madn who are fearless.”
“Given the inherent disadvantages in combat power, there’s really nothing we can do; however, now we have an opportunity to bridge this gap in combat power, so we must not give up.”
“Honestly, the existence of Jenos, this young fellow, has provided us with a new perspective. He has proven that being both a Martial Artist and a Starmor Master is not contradictory; they can complent each other. Therefore, we can try orienting our elite family mbers in this direction.”
“Dream on, drop that thought. The family has already tried sothing similar before. As for Jenos, his main focus is on Martial Arts; due to his talent, he hasn’t put much energy into being a Starmor Master.”
“We could actually select a few mbers with diocre qualifications to try this again. Things are different now. If feasible, we can then roll it out on a large scale. There is indeed rit in Martial Arts.”
“Forget it, I don’t care anymore. If you want to waste resources, go ahead,” the elder observed the eting drifting off topic and shook his head in resignation.
He had reviewed many materials and roughly understood how difficult it was to beco a Martial Artist. Compared to being a Starmor Master, the early investnt and returns of being a Martial Artist just didn’t compare, as examples of exerting effort and ti yet gaining nothing were nurous.
The Douglas family had attempted similar experints before, but without exception, all had failed, hardly achieving even a modest success.
…
A year had quietly passed. Muria’s request to increase the training intensity for the thirteen clan talents entrusted to him had been approved, so he began to devise an even more ruthless training plan for them.
This training was so harsh that these talents felt that being hospitalized was a welco relief. However, Muria controlled the severity of his techniques, avoiding injuries that would necessitate a stay in the dical Cabin as a form of “vacation.”
The endless training made these talents feel as though they were trapped in an eternal, sunless hell. Fortunately, though they were in hell, they could still catch glimpses of light from ti to ti.
The source of this light was their age; they had not fully completed their mandatory federal education. Their main purpose for staying in the manor was actually to attend high school. However, they had the “luck” of encountering Muria and becoming his first batch of lab rats.
Attending classes taught by high school teachers now beca their only leisure ti. Completing the howork assigned by these teachers beca an excuse to avoid training.
Unlike normal high school students, these thirteen talents all hoped that their teachers would assign as much howork as possible—preferably so much that they couldn’t finish it even if they stayed up all night.
Unfortunately, this wish was a luxury because, as mbers of the Douglas family, the possibility of attending school like regular high school students, punctually and daily, was simply impossible.
The O’Grass Family arranged for private teachers for their children to allow more training ti, minimizing howork to the least possible amount.
…
A neatly grood man in a tidy teacher’s outfit pushed open the classroom door and saw three students inside. He paused briefly, then silently picked up the roll call sheet in his hand. Glancing at the two nas listed, his expression imdiately soured.
“Robert, your na is not on the roster for this class. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve already attended this session, haven’t you?”
The man, hired by the Douglas family as a private teacher, instantly identified the extra person in the room. He spoke expressionlessly, his tone undisguised with resistance, clearly disliking the current situation.
“Teacher Mike, it’s like this: although I’ve listened to the last class, there are still many points I don’t understand, so I’d like to hear you explain it again!”
“You can watch the video of my lecture I recorded; it would be the sa.” Mike touched the cold sweat that had unknowingly dripped onto his forehead.
“How could it be the sa? I think it’s better to listen to you teach in person.” Robert chuckled.
“Listening to my lecture is fine, but you’ll need to sit at the back of the classroom,” Mike said, his face showing so distress, knowing this lad was a future big figure but having no intention of befriending him right now.
“Sure, no problem at all, as long as you don’t send
away,” Robert answered with a grin.
Mike maintained his facial expression, moving his slightly trembling, sowhat stiff legs, then walked to the podium and began that day’s lesson.
However, less than ten minutes into the class, the back wall of the classroom was suddenly blasted open, creating a large hole. Shattered stones scattered everywhere, peppering the room with small pits.
Reacting instinctively to the sudden explosion, Mike imdiately ducked under the podium. After the blast, the tension on his face vanished because to him, the most dangerous mont had passed.
Having avoided the explosive damage, Mike erged from under the podium and then looked towards the person responsible for the explosion, a slender girl dressed in starmor, hovering within the classroom.
“Robert, quite bold of you to skip today’s training again. Haven’t you been beaten enough?”
The starmor-clad girl looked down disdainfully at the boy cowering in the back of the classroom.
“Betty, don’t falsely accuse . I didn’t understand everything from Mr. Mike’s last class, so I’m just making up for it, not skipping training. I really love learning,”
Robert earnestly retorted, his face utterly serious, portraying the image of a studious and keen student.
“Give it a rest. Who do you think you’re fooling? You don’t believe that yourself,” Betty waved dismissively, her face showing disdain. “We’ve worn out that excuse. Trying to skive off training with such a trick is useless.”
“So, did Jelos, that demon, send you to drag
back to training?” Robert stood up, his face gradually breaking into a playful smile. “But why would he send you? Isn’t that just giving
an outright pass to skip today’s training?”
“Robert, who do you think you’re looking down on? We’re improving every day. If you slack off even slightly, you could easily be surpassed. Just because you defeated
last ti doesn’t an I’ll lose to you again.”
Betty’s face showed anger as she saw Robert’s expression. Muria had set many rules for their training. For students who skipped training, there were different ways of handling them.
For instance, in the current situation, if Robert could defeat Betty, the captor, he wouldn’t have to attend today’s training and could loaf around legitimately. But if he was defeated and captured by Betty, hell awaited him.
The fundantal rule was: respect the strong, the victor reigns supre. As long as you have the skill, you can loaf every day. But if you lack skill and still dare to skip training, then you’re courting death.
“Not bad, fighting spirit. Let
see how much you’ve improved recently.” Robert stood up, activating his starmor as well, with pieces of black and purple armor beginning to attach to his body.
“Wait, could you two please take your fight outside? I really can’t handle the fallout from your battle,” Mike said hurriedly, speaking up as the man and woman prepared to clash, while he hid behind the podium.
“It’s okay, let them fight; I’ll protect you,” said one of the two unusually calm students, turning her head as she spoke from where the classroom wall had been blown open.
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