Just before Itoshi drew his sword, something lit up in his hand first a swirl of deep sea-blue light curling around his fingers, and the blade itself answered it, glowing to match.
Slannng!
The sword slid free in one smooth motion.
MIZUTO
THE SOUL OF THE SEA
Itoshi said simply.
"Whoa." Rocky leaned in, sword already raised in front of him like he could copy the motion by proximity alone. "What was that light around your hand just now? Looked almost like water."
Itoshi held his hand up, turning it over. "This? It’s called Zhoa energy. Different for every user it takes whatever shape suits you."
"Is that the same as the System’s energy?" Hasib asked.
"No. Related, maybe, but not the same thing. The System just provides the frame you awaken it in Zhoa itself comes from you." He shrugged. "As for the method of awakening it that’s different for everyone. You’ll each have to find your own trigger."
"We have to figure it out ourselves?"
"That’s generally how it works, yes." Itoshi tucked his sword away. "Take a break, all of you."
They dropped down under the nearest tree, heads tipped back against the trunk. Hasib closed his eyes.
[SYSTEM: YOUR TASK IS STARTING]
So much for resting.
He checked his level first, out of habit more than hope.
Level 1. Not that far from two, actually. Nine more after that and the Black Sword unlocks.
He’d decided somewhere along the way that Level 10 was the number that mattered most right now everything else was just steps toward it.
He rolled his shoulders. "Alright. Let’s do this."
[TASK 1 — STRETCHING]
He gritted his way through it, teeth clenched the whole time, and came out the other side sore but standing.
[TASK 2 — SPARRING]
He emerged from that one worse for wear, fresh cuts stinging along his arms. He cracked open his repair kit without waiting to be told, watching the plating knit itself back into place.
Getting there. A few more pieces and the set’s complete.
[TASK 3 — POSTURE & MOVEMENT]
The moment he stepped through, his eyes went wide.
Nothing about the block field followed any pattern today. Every block bounced and jumped on its own private rhythm... some launching skyward, others dropping without warning, no order to any of it whatsoever.
He swallowed hard and stepped in anyway.
He broke into a run, but wherever he chose to go, the ground under his feet seemed to turn against him first rising, falling, betraying his footing at the worst possible moment. Sharp, arrow-thin spikes began raining down from above on top of everything else, and without any way to predict the blocks’ movement, several of them found their mark.
He staggered back out sometime later, fresh wounds scattered across his arms and shoulders.
[CONGRATULATIONS ]
[ALL TASKS COMPLETED]
He dropped straight to the ground the second he cleared the threshold.
Everything went dark around him and then burst into light, fireworks blooming somewhere overhead.
[ LEVEL UP: 2]
A tired grin spread across his face. Two down. Eight to go.
[YOU GOT A SILVER BOX]
Open
[ARMOR UPDATE CARD]
[USE / LATER]
Use
The remaining plates across his body shifted, reforming into a sleeker, more complete design, coverage spreading further than before. Not the whole set yet but close. The rest will come with the next reward, probably. No rush.
[HEALING KIT ×3]
[HEALING FACTOR UNLOCKED]
He watched, half-dazed, as the cuts along his arms began knitting shut on their own slowly, a little at a time, nothing like the instant patch-job of a kit.
His eyes opened. The others were already sitting up around him.
Itoshi held out three plain iron rods, one for each of them. "Before anything else try channeling your Zhoa energy into these."
They each took one, and the field went quiet with concentration.
Hasib tried shouting at his, loudly, as though volume alone might do the trick. Nothing happened. Sara focused hard enough to start sweating, jaw tight, eyes screwed shut.
Rocky came the closest. For one brief moment, a faint white glow spread out from his palm only to flicker and dissolve before it ever reached the rod.
"That’s real progress," Itoshi told him.
Sara’s eyes narrowed at the display. "I need to be able to do that too."
Rocky just stared down at his own hand, quiet, like he wasn’t entirely sure where the glow had come from either.
The sun dipped low, and Itoshi called an end to the day’s training, telling them to hydrate and head home and to be back by five the next morning.
All three of them nearly choked on the words.
"Five," Hasib repeated. "In the *morning*. That’s that’s a little early, don’t you think?"
Itoshi didn’t dignify that with a response.
The three of them walked together for a while, Sara peppering Rocky with question after question the whole way how had he done it, how had it happened so fast, was the glow actually real, did it feel like anything. Rocky answered none of it, simply walking on in silence.
Hasib watched the whole exchange with a flat, unimpressed look. "Look at her, trying to have a whole conversation with the world’s most dedicated monk."
Rocky peeled off toward his own street without a word of farewell. Sara called one after him anyway.
Not long after, they reached Sara’s street too, and she waved before disappearing down it, still chattering about the day even as she went.
Hasib walked the rest of the way alone, a small, satisfied warmth sitting in his chest that had nothing to do with the training at all.
He was still a block from Sinbad’s Genie Food when he collided with someone coming the other way a strange man in an old, heavy coat, a wide hat pulled low over his eyes.
"Sorry about that," Hasib said automatically, stepping back.
The man didn’t respond right away. He simply stared at Hasib, unblinking, a beat longer than the moment called for.
"...You okay there?" Hasib asked, a little unnerved.
"Yes. Yes, I’m fine." The man’s voice was flat, distant.
Hasib brushed past and kept walking, brow furrowed. *That guy was seriously strange.*
Behind him, the man stayed rooted in place a moment longer, eyes following Hasib’s back down the street. "...Still can’t be sure," he muttered to himself, too low for anyone to hear. "Not yet." Then he turned and walked on, disappearing around the corner.
Inside the restaurant, Mr. Jin caught sight of the new sword at Hasib’s hip and nearly leapt over the counter with excitement.
"Look at that! A real blade of your own already didn’t I tell you? You’re going to be a Legendary Warrior one day, mark my words!"
Layla came hurrying in from the back at the noise, eager to see for herself and in her rush, tipped an entire ladle of hot chotpoti gravy straight across her own foot.
"OW...hot, hot, hot!"
Hasib was already moving, sprinting for a cup of water while Mr. Jin called after him to take it slow and steady, not to panic.
He knelt and poured the water carefully over her foot, blowing gently across the reddened skin. "Okay -Chapter okay, that’s enough, I don’t think it’s too bad."
He shot her a look, still a little annoyed. "You really didn’t need to rush like that."
Layla ducked her head, sheepish, cheeks warm with embarrassment at her own clumsiness. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry everyone."
A customer’s voice called out from the front, and Mr. Jin hurried off to deal with it, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.
Hasib found a tin of burn ointment sitting nearby and smoothed a bit of it gently over her foot. "There. Try to actually be careful for once, okay?"
Layla huffed out a small laugh, still a little embarrassed. "Yeah, yeah. Noted."
Later that night, Hasib lay in bed, half-asleep, the strange man’s face still floating somewhere at the back of his mind. "Still can’t be sure." Sure of what?
He was still turning the thought over when the System flickered awake one last time.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[AN UNKNOWN PRESENCE HAS ENTERED YOUR DETECTION RANGE]
His eyes snapped open in the dark.