The training session had pushed the youths to their limits. By the end, complaints echoed throughout the dome, with some players claiming they could no longer feel their legs. The bald, short instructor paid no attention to their misery. He blew his whistle once and left without another word. As the others recovered, Winston remembered the favor Jamison had asked of him. Without waiting for Oswin, he slipped out of the dome and made his way around the structure. A staircase led him toward a sprawling building nearby.
Before proceeding, Winston carefully scanned the area for cameras, remembering Jamison's warning. When he found none covering the spot, relief washed over him. He grabbed the steel railing, vaulted over the balcony, and landed behind the building. With a dull thud, Winston landed in a crouch. He remained still for a few moments, carefully scanning the area. Satisfied that no one was nearby, he began crouch-walking along the back of the building.
Four horizontal sliding windows lined the wall. Reaching the far corner, Winston cautiously peeked around it before pulling back. Seeing no signs of surveillance, he nodded to himself. The space between the building and the concrete perimeter wall stretched roughly thirty meters across, forming a narrow, secluded corridor. Winston settled onto the ground in the middle of the passageway and began thinking about the Voltage Core.
Based on the experiments he had conducted on the bus and later in the changing room, he had already formed a few theories. Lying on his back, Winston raised his legs and began performing bicycle kicks, just as he had done in the showers and aboard the club tour bus.
If he wanted to master the Voltage Core before next week's challenges, he needed to understand exactly how it responded to movement and exertion. For the next thirty minutes, Winston repeated the same exercise he had practiced on the club tour bus.
Back then, every failed attempt had ended with him banging his head against a cupboard. Here, it was the grass-covered ground that absorbed the punishment. Groans and dull thuds echoed through the narrow space as Winston stubbornly continued his experiment. Eventually, frustration and exhaustion caught up with him. Holding his aching back, he sat up and opened the Core System. Nothing--No breakthrough. No progress.
Annoyed, Winston clicked his tongue and shook his head. Pushing himself to his feet, he limped away from the secluded area and headed back toward the front of the building. As he rounded the corner, he froze. A familiar figure stood nearby, lazily blowing a stream of smoke into the air.
The man glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Dumi's protégé," he said. "What was your name again?"
Startled, he looked at the familiar figure and bitterly smiled, "I am Winston"
Leaning against the silver-iron balcony, Haruto pointed at Winston with the cigarette held between his index and middle fingers.
"Winston, right? Glad you're here. So, tell me—how are those legs of yours holding up?"
Straightening up, Winston made his way around the balcony and stopped at the foot of the stairs.
"They're much better now," he said. "Thank you so much for helping me."
Blowing out a stream of smoke, Haruto studied Winston for a moment before asking, "What were you doing at the back of my office?"
Laughing awkwardly and rubbing the back of his head, Winston lowered his gaze before quickly looking back up.
"I was sightseeing. This place is amazing, and I wanted to familiarize myself with it," he replied.
Haruto flicked the cigarette butt away and said, "Come. Let me see your wounds. I'm the head doctor here."
He turned and walked into the building, leaving the door open for Winston. Walking through the row of hospital beds, Winston noticed that only one was separated by a curtain.
Haruto spoke as he moved down the hallway. "Is this patient from your dome? He suffered a fractured tibia and a dislocated shoulder. He'll be fine, but as for his football career this year, he'll have to sit this one out."
Winston glanced toward the partially drawn curtain. Behind it, he caught a glimpse of the injured youth—the same player who had started the mannequin challenge earlier. The moment their eyes met, Winston quickly looked away and hurried to catch up with Haruto.
Haruto pushed open another door and led Winston into his office. With a casual wave of his hand, he gestured toward a bed.
"Take a seat, kid."
Taking a seat, Haruto reached into a small case and withdrew the same set of golden needles he had used to treat Winston's legs. Before inserting any of them, he placed two fingers against Winston's wrist and checked his pulse.
After a moment, Haruto adjusted his glasses, selected a needle, and carefully inserted it into an acupuncture point near Winston's wrist. Slowly, he rotated the needle between his thumb and index finger before moving on to the next point.
As the treatment continued, Winston felt a sharp pain shoot through his veins. The Nethen Essence within him immediately stirred. Tiny streams of it spread throughout his body, flowing through his channels and reaching every limb. The sensation began as a chilling coldness before rapidly transforming into intense heat. Winston felt his entire body growing hotter and hotter, as though it were swelling from within.
Just as the sensation became unbearable, Haruto gently twisted one of the golden needles. Instantly, the raging energy settled. The heat faded, the swelling sensation disappeared, and Winston's body returned to normal as though nothing had happened. What Haruto was really doing was examining Winston's mana flow.
The first time they met, Haruto had suspected Winston of taking one of the enhancement pills circulating through the underground world. Back in Arlesey City, while treating Winston's legs with acupuncture, Haruto had noticed something unusual. Tiny traces of mana lingered within Winston's body. They were so faint that he couldn't perceive them normally. The only reason he had detected them at all was because of the golden needles. Whenever he pierced certain acupuncture points, minute strands of mana would leak out through the punctures.
The discovery had shocked him.
Haruto immediately informed Dumi, who began conducting his own investigation. Haruto did the same, quietly researching the phenomenon on his own. That was why he had been pleased to see Winston again today.
The moment he saw Winston at the academy, he invited him into his office and began another examination using the golden needles. What he found this time surprised him even more.
Previously, Winston's mana had existed only in tiny fragments, like the faint flicker of a neon sign struggling to stay lit. Now, however, it flowed throughout his entire body. The difference was enormous. When Haruto had examined Winston during his earlier visit with Dumi, he had found no signs of the underground pill. He knew what to look for because one of his colleagues had previously examined a person who had taken it.
According to the medical report, the pill entered the bloodstream and forced the body's cells into a state of extreme acceleration. Under microscopic observation, the blood behaved like violent ocean currents surging through the veins.
The drug forcibly opened acupuncture points, causing energy and blood flow to move erratically throughout the body. The blood itself darkened into a deep crimson color. After several hours, the activity would abruptly cease.
The blood would then begin losing its color and vitality, gradually turning into a dark, sluggish substance. The long-term damage was catastrophic. Yet Winston showed none of those symptoms.
Twirling a golden needle against Winston's wrist, Haruto looked at him and asked, "Have you ever meditated before?"
"No, but I have seen my mother meditate every morning before going to work," Winston replied, looking at the golden needle on his wrist.
"Have you ever tried meditating yourself?"
Haruto walked to the side of his office where a wooden wardrobe stood. Opening it, he took out a meditation cushion and an extra pillow. He placed them in the middle of the room before settling onto the pillow in a cross-legged position. Patting the meditation cushion beside him, he gestured to Winston.
"Come join me."
Winston sat cross-legged on the floor beside Haruto and closed his eyes. For a minute, he felt nothing. Letting out a sigh, he opened his eyes and glanced at Haruto.
Without looking at him, Haruto spoke.
"Meditation begins with your breathing and your state of mind. The first step is simple—take a deep breath in, then slowly breathe out.
Repeat it three times, or as many times as you need, until your thoughts begin to settle.
"Once your mind starts to calm, don't force it. Let it become still naturally. Feel the surrounding air. Listen to the sounds of the world. Don't chase them away—acknowledge them and let them pass through your awareness. Allow those sensations to guide your mind into a deeper state of calm,"
Following Haruto's instructions, Winston closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Slowly, he inhaled and exhaled, allowing his thoughts to settle. Little by little, the noise in his mind faded away. As he drifted deeper into meditation, he suddenly felt a cold breeze brushing against his skin. At first, he thought it was the office air conditioner. Then he realized the sensation was coming from within.
The cold seeped through the pores of his body and flowed into his veins. A tingling sensation spread through him, as if countless ants were crawling beneath his skin. It traveled through his muscles, his bones, and all the way to his head.
At the same time, the cold current began gathering in his abdomen. The familiar swirling sensation returned. It spun faster and faster, forming a vortex deep within him.
Then everything went silent.
When Winston opened his eyes, he was no longer in Haruto's office. Instead, he found himself standing in the same vast green landscape he had seen in his dream aboard the club bus. Endless grasslands stretched toward the horizon, swaying beneath powerful gusts of wind. The air was sharp and biting. The moment the wind struck him, a shiver ran down his spine. Instinctively, Winston lowered his center of gravity, bracing himself as though preparing to sprint.
"Okay, let's do some breathing techniques—breathe in and breathe out, and do it slowly," Haruto's voice rang out within the endless grasslands.
Initiating a series of breathing exercises from his position within the endless grasslands Winston observed the wind gradually subsiding and becoming more tranquil. "How are you doing, are you calm now?"
Winston didn't reply. He was far too captivated by the endless grasslands stretching before him. The sea of green seemed to continue forever, disappearing beyond the horizon without a single landmark in sight.
Questions flooded his mind. So this is how it feels to meditate? How vast is this place? Is there even an end to it?
Slowly, Winston lifted his head and looked upward. What he saw only deepened his confusion. There was no sky—Instead, the world above was concealed beneath a blanket of dense gray clouds.
The clouds hung motionless—frozen in place as though time itself had stopped. Not a single gap revealed the sun, nor was there any sign of stars beyond them.