The first night within Shin-Jinrui Chūsū (New Humanity Core) drifted by to the deep, low hum of anti-matter propulsion engines reverberating from the distant cloud layers.
In the living room of their rented apartment, Shin chose not to sleep on the bed, instead reclining across the long sofa positioned adjacent to the window.
He rested one arm over his forehead while his other hand subtly slipped beneath his shirt collar, pulling out a necklace he had meticulously braided himself from heavy-duty hemp cord.
Anchored at the absolute center of the cord was a glossy black alchemical fragment—a shard of the Ten-Sided Celestial Scripture that he guarded as fiercely as his own life.
Under the flickering streetlights filtering through the glass panes, Shin stared intently at the intricate grooves carved across the fragment.
Suddenly, a bizarre phenomenon occurred.
The ancient Runic characters etched onto the celestial script’s surface abruptly flared with an eerie, profound blue glow.
The illumination radiated no warmth; instead, it carried a highly unstable fluctuation, pulsing once before completely cutting out, returning the fragment to its cold, pitch-black state.
Shin bolted upright, his brow furrowing as he muttered in pure astonishment:
— “Huh?
What in the world…
It suddenly flashed for a split second and then died out?
Could this fragment be reacting to something out there?
How bizarre.”
He rotated the stone shard in his hand for a while, but it yielded no further reaction.
Shaking off his curiosity, Shin let out a prolonged yawn and lay back down:
— “Whatever, it’s late.
Sleeping out here works fine.
Tomorrow I have to head out with Ling Mo to secure some work.
If we don’t bring in some coin, we’ll literally be eating dirt.”
Waking Up to Reality
The following morning, as artificial sunbeams from the city’s energy grid network began to illuminate the room, Shin was still soundly curled up beneath his blankets, blissfully oversleeping.
THWACK!
THWACK!
— “Brother Shin!
Get up right now!
Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Loona stood alongside the sofa, repeatedly striking her oldest brother with a small throw pillow.
“The sun is practically burning your face off.
If you keep oversleeping, you’re literally going to turn into a pig!”
Shin grimaced, weakly cracking open a single eye to stare blankly at his surroundings:
— “Oh…
what’s happening?
I feel like I just closed my eyes for a second, and it’s already morning?”
Loona planted both hands on her hips, pouting playfully:
— “Just closed your eyes, my foot!
You were sleeping like a corpse, which is exactly why we didn’t bother trying to wake you up any earlier.
Kento, Ling Mo, and I went out and ate breakfast ages ago.
Hurry up, wash your face, and get to the table.
We brought back some breakfast for you!”
Shin scrambled out of bed, yawning while scanning the spacious room:
— “Oh, where did Ling Mo and Kento run off to, anyway?”
— “Kento slung his backpack over his shoulder the second he finished eating and vanished somewhere, saying he wanted to scout out the city.
As for Ling Mo, he’s currently waiting by the front door.
He wants to drag you along to look for work!” Loona pointed toward the entryway.
Shin nodded, rapidly executing a cursory morning routine before inhaling his takeout breakfast.
Shortly after, he stepped out of the apartment alongside Ling Mo, officially initiating their grind to earn a livelihood.
Walking down the heavily congested street, Shin glanced at his childhood companion before letting out a massive, weary sigh, questioning anxiously:
— “Man, this job hunt is going to be an absolute nightmare.
Ling Mo, if you keep acting like a locked vault, you’re going to have an incredibly hard time surviving in this capital city.
For example, if a customer walks up to ask about buying something, you’ll probably just stand there nodding or shaking your head, right?”
Contrary to Shin’s expectations, Ling Mo didn’t reach for a notepad, nor did he shake his head.
He cast a brief sideways glance at Shin, his lips tightening slightly before producing a clear, resonant low tone:
— “I am far from the absolute mute you claim I am.
The circumstances have shifted; one must adapt when entering society.”
HALT!
Shin’s eyes widened to absolute circles, freezing dead in his tracks for three entire seconds amidst the surging crowd.
He lunged forward, pressing his hand against Ling Mo’s forehead before touching his own, shouting hysterically:
— “Huh?!
What is this?!
Do I have a fever or am I hallucinating?
Or is some kind of apocalyptic plague about to drop right on our heads?
HOLY CRAP, YOU CAN ACTUALLY TALK, LING MO?!”
Utterly speechless, Ling Mo brushed Shin’s hand away, flatly delivering a single word:
— “Okay.”
— “You almost made my brain detonate from pure shock!” Shin cried out, clutching his head.
— “I told you, I am not mute!” Ling Mo let out a cold huff, crossing his arms as he resumed walking.
“Once we return to our quiet quarters, I will revert to my usual silence.
The only reason I refrain from speaking daily is that pure laziness is fundamentally hardcoded into my DNA.”
Shin could only offer a dry laugh at his genius friend’s absolute powerhouse of an excuse.
Chatting as they walked, the duo soon halted before a modest burger joint nestled on a bustling street corner.
The proprietor was a jovial, heavy-set man.
Seeing two physically robust young men step inside, he welcomed them enthusiastically:
— “You two here to apply for the positions?
Excellent, absolutely excellent!
My shop is facing a severe staff shortage right now!”
Shin proactively stepped forward to address the core issue:
— “Good day, boss.
What is the baseline monthly salary we’d be receiving here?”
The owner laughed heartily, patting his large belly:
— “Aha!
The baseline monthly salary is 450 Sophion Coins.
What do you think?
If you two work diligently and pick up overtime to cover the night shifts, I’ll bump it up to 550 Sophion Coins!
Sound fair?”
— “Wow!
We’ll take it, boss!” Shin’s eyes flared with light, internally calculating that this wage was more than enough to cover rent and sustenance.
“But…
do you happen to have any additional slots available?
I’d love to apply for my younger brother and sister to join us as well.”
The owner shook his head with genuine regret:
— “Ah, what a shame.
After taking both of you on, I only have exactly one final slot remaining!”
— “That works perfectly fine, we’ll take the jobs!” Shin decisively locked in the agreement.
An elimination calculation rapidly executed within Shin’s mind.
With only one slot remaining, it absolutely had to go to Loona.
She was highly intelligent, exceptional with numbers, and possessed a sharp, charismatic wit—perfect for customer service.
As for Kento…
that kid’s face constantly radiated a dense, murderous aura as though he were plotting the systematic eradication of someone’s entire lineage.
If they placed him behind the counter, he would terrify the boss’s entire customer base away within an hour!
Shortly after, the duo received a rapid operational walkthrough from the owner and plunged into a highly demanding first shift.
Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Loona completed her cleaning duties.
Being naturally industrious, she proactively went next door to assist their landlord with chores, babysitting and playing with the delightful five-year-old daughter to afford the mother ample free time to prepare a massive family dinner.
Crashing the Dojo
Across another sector of the metropolis, Kento was walking entirely alone through a district dominated by martial arts institutions.
He halted before a colossal, magnificent architectural structure, adorned with a massive banner boasting metallic lettering: “THE CAPITAL TAEKWONDO DOJO.”
Kento stared fixedly at the dojo’s emblem for a brief moment before casually pushing the heavy doors open and stepping directly inside.
Within the training sanctuary, dozens of disciples clad in pristine white uniforms were aggressively throwing wind-slicing kicks into heavy sandbags across a vast sparring floor.
Upon seeing an unfamiliar outsider dressed in plain attire with deep, hollow black eyes step onto the mat, every single disciple froze, training calculating, hostile glints upon him.
— “Who the hell is that guy?
Never seen his face before.
Is he here to apply for enrollment?” the first disciple whispered.
— “Enroll here?
He’d at least need some baseline potential or a foundation.
Look at how loose his posture is; he clearly knows absolutely nothing about martial arts or close-quarters combat techniques!” the second disciple scoffed with open disdain.
A third disciple, exceptionally tall and heavily built, stepped forward to block Kento’s path, tilting his chin upward with an overbearing tone:
— “Greeting, friend.
What business do you have here?
Looking to register for classes?
We’re completely at capacity, pal!
You should find somewhere else; this dojo doesn’t accommodate dead weight.”
Kento stood with his hands casually clasped behind his back, his gaze completely unwavering as he delivered a flat, utterly arrogant declaration:
— “I want to learn Taekwondo…
And within this specific dojo, who exactly is the strongest?
Tell him to come out.”
The third disciple’s face flushed a violent crimson as fury erupted within him:
— “You dare speak to us with such arrogance—”
BOOM!!!
Before the words could fully clear his throat, Kento struck.
A flawless straight punch—a Seiken Chudan Tsuki infused with brutal, compressed internal force—slammed squarely into the center of the disciple’s face.
An explosive shockwave of air pressure detonated.
The massive disciple launched backward like a kite with its string violently severed, his shoulder and skull impacting the reinforced concrete wall behind him.
The kinetic transfer was so severe that the concrete instantly fractured into a spiderweb of deep cracks as the youth collapsed onto the floor, completely knocked out cold.
Kento instantly retracted his lead leg, raising his hands before his chest while dropping his center of gravity—a text-book, flawless defensive posture of Kyokushin Karate.
— “You bastard!
He’s here to crash the dojo!
Take him down!” the remaining disciples roared in unison.
Another senior student lunged forward, executing a vicious roundhouse kick.
Kento didn’t retreat; instead, he stepped directly into the strike.
Utilizing the fluid redirection principles of Aikido, he effortlessly caught the attacker’s ankle, leveraging the opponent’s own forward momentum to neutralize the strike before executing a brutal throw—a Nage-waza that driven the disciple’s skull vertically into the sparring floor.
CRACK…
SPLINTER!
The disciple remained pinned headfirst into the crater, his legs pointing straight up into the air, completely unconscious.
A third assailant blindsided him from the rear, channeling a crude surge of raw Sophion energy into his leg as he executed a lethal axe kick descending directly toward the crown of Kento’s skull.
Yet, Kento stood as motionless as an unyielding monument of snow-chilled steel.
He didn’t bother to dodge, nor did he raise an arm to parry.
CLANG!!!
The heel struck Kento’s shoulder, but a violent kinetic backlash instantly ricocheted through the attacker’s leg, leaving it completely numb and fractured.
Kento didn’t shift or yield a single millimeter.
He cast a freezing sideways glance at the crippled student, then leveraged his hip rotation to unleash a devastating Uppercut straight into the target’s jaw.
SWISH…
CRASH!
The terrifying mechanical force anchored directly into the jawline, launching the disciple vertically into the air, driving his head straight through the plaster ceiling of the dojo, leaving him dangling suspended like a bizarre architectural ornament.
— “HALT IMMEDIATELY!!!” a furious, booming roar reverberated from the inner chambers.
The Dojo Master—a middle-aged martial artist sporting rippling, hyper-defined musculature and a dense aura of killing intent—stepped onto the floor.
Surveying the absolute devastation of his facility, he barked in pure rage:
— “What pathetic brat from whatever backwater planet dares to come here and defile my dojo?!”
Kento subtly lowered his hands, his dark, lifeless eyes locking onto the master as he flatly dropped three words:
— “I am the White Oni.”
— “Insolent child!
Today, I shall personally beat that intolerable arrogance right out of your skull on behalf of your elders!” the master bellowed.
His velocity was terrifying.
In a literal fraction of a second, he closed the distance to Kento, leveraging his rotational torque to unleash a maximum-output 360-degree spin kick that tore through the atmosphere, targeting Kento’s flank.
True to his nature, Kento chose the most absolute form of dominance: he tanked the strike entirely unprotected!
BOOM!!!
The kick connected cleanly, unleashing a massive shockwave that rippled outward, violently blasting away nearby sandbags and training mats.
Yet, the Taekwondo Master’s eyes instantly dilated with pure horror.
His shin felt as though it had struck an unyielding fortress wall forged from high-tier, hyper-refined Sophion defense matrix.
Kento sustained zero damage; his physical form stood as immovable as granite, without a single strand of his hair even shifting from the impact.
Kento subtly glanced down at the master’s shin, his tone laced with absolute disappointment:
— “Is this truly the absolute extent of your full power?
Use your Sophion.”
Humiliated, the master bounded backward, his face contorting as a brilliant, searing crimson Fire-attribute Sophion current erupted around his physical frame:
— “Fine!
If you are so eager to die, I shall oblige!
Don’t you dare cry for mercy when I reduce you to ash, boy!”
— “Within my lexicon…
the tears of the weak have never existed,” Kento answered coldly.
SWISH!
SWISH!
SWISH!
The master charged like a madman, unleashing a rapid barrage of punches and kicks coated in blazing crimson fire, superheating the surrounding air.
Yet this time, Kento didn’t remain stationary.
His physical form moved like a pure white phantom, fluidly weaving through the onslaught, flawlessly evading every single strike without expending a fraction of his true energy.
— “You move as sluggishly as a turtle,” Kento mocked effortlessly while dodging.
— “DIE!!!” Pushed past the brink of sanity, the master disengaged to create distance, channeling the absolute entirety of his Sophion reserves into his palms before unleashing a massive, roaring beast-shaped energy blast that surged directly toward Kento with lethal intent.
The Secret Technique
Facing the inferno of energy hurtling toward him, Kento remained entirely unphased.
His pupils abruptly contracted as his pure white Sophion current surged at a micro-molecular level.
His lips subtly parted, activating his ultimate secret technique:
— “Ten Directions Flesh Anchor!”
HUMMMMMM!
An invisible, profoundly freezing gravitational pressure instantly enveloped the entire space within a ten-meter radius.
The moment the fiery beast blast breached the perimeter, its thermal output was instantly flash-frozen by sheer atmospheric compression.
The molecular density of the surrounding air magnified several thousand-fold, forcing the energy blast to violently destabilize and dissolve into harmless, drifting embers.
Simultaneously, the Taekwondo Master realized with absolute horror that his entire physical form was completely paralyzed; he was incapable of shifting a single finger.
The extreme atmospheric compression violently crushed his ribcage, triggering a severe onset of oxygen deprivation as his visage turned a deep, suffocating purple.
Kento walked forward with measured, leisurely steps, systematically closing the distance to his immobilized target.
THWACK!
THWACK!
CRUNCH!
One punch, two punches, then three…
Kento flatly unleashed a series of brutal, clinical strikes into the master’s face and torso as though he were merely training on a stationary bag.
Fresh crimson sprayed across the ruined sparring mat.
To close the encounter, Kento shifted his weight, driving a massive straight punch directly into the dead center of the master’s abdomen.
BANG-CRACK!!!
The technique dissolved.
The master’s body launched backward like a high-caliber artillery shell, obliterating the first reinforced wall, systematically puncturing through the second and third walls of the facility, carving a massive, hollow tunnel that extended straight out onto the main public street.
The Dojo Master lay motionless amidst the brick rubble, his skeletal structure shattered, his breathing reduced to faint, shallow gasps.
Kento retracted his hand, pulling out a tissue to meticulously wipe the blood traces off his knuckles before discarding it onto the floor.
Surveying the absolute ruins of the once-magnificent facility, he let out a deeply bored sigh:
— “How incredibly dull…
A facility this grand, yet it failed to force me to utilize even 10% of my true capabilities.”
END OF CHAPTER 21