20 Days Later
"Done!"
With a heavy thud, Sam tossed his bag onto the study table and collapsed backward onto his bed. Staring up at the familiar ceiling, he let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"It's finally done."
The societal structure of this world remained largely the same as his previous one, even if the core concepts differed wildly. More importantly, he had just successfully finished his supplementary matriculation examinations.
The subjects had covered Social Studies, Science, Math, Biology, and Rune Theory. While history and society here were completely alien to him, Rune Theory enticed him the most. The underlying concepts felt remarkably similar to computer programming.
'Maybe I can apply the foundational logic of coding directly to rune manipulation,' he theorized.
Over the past twenty days, he had accumulated a staggering 26,000 U.C., consistently spending six hours every single day refining Spiritual Fire Ganoderma into pills.
Sustaining himself on a strict, cheap diet of five kiwi fruits a day, he had continuously drained and recovered his Rune Energy.
As a result, his internal reserves had become incredibly refined. He intuitively felt as though he could manipulate the energy to his exact will, even if practical reality might prove otherwise.
After resting quietly on the bed for a few hours, Sam sat up and took a deep breath, glancing out the window.
'Evening already...' he mused. 'The day went by so fast!'
Clearing his head, he moved over to his study table and sat down. Flipping open his notebook, he let his pen dance across a fresh page.
He had spent the last three weeks frantically cramming history and Rune textbooks to fill the massive gaps left by the previous owner's fragmented memories. It had been an exhausting grind, but he was confident he had aced all the exams.
The math syllabus for tenth-graders in this world was surprisingly vast; the difficulty rivaled the advanced engineering topics from his past life.
Fortunately, that was a breeze for him. He had been particularly shocked to find advanced concepts like Normalization and Linear Interpolation in a high school curriculum. Acing those subjects had only fueled his motivation and excitement for attending a proper intermediate college.
Pushing those academic thoughts aside, he focused on his next martial step. He had already decided that his very first runic ability needed to be Fire-attributed, but he hadn't yet chosen which specific monster's rune to absorb.
He needed to do more research. It was probably better to wait until he was officially enrolled in an intermediate college, where he would have access to a much wider variety of high-tier options.
Finalizing his immediate future plans, he jotted down his new daily schedule:
Combat Training Institute: 2 hours
Rune Pill Refining: 6 hours
Physical Exercise: 2 hours
His previous routine had practically given him nightmares. He had spent the last twenty days surviving on minimal sleep, but he had somehow managed his time and pulled it off. With the exams finally behind him, he just had to wait for the results.
Getting up from the table, he decided to take an evening walk. It would be a perfect opportunity to scout the city for a local combat training institute.
As he stepped out of his room, a passing dorm mate called out. "Hey, Sam!"
Sam went on high alert, glancing over his shoulder, but he quickly relaxed and offered a faint smile.
"Going out for a walk?" the boy asked.
"Yeah, just getting some air. I'm busy scouting today," Sam replied casually.
"Oh, good luck!"
Stepping out of the hostel grounds, he strode confidently toward the commercial district. After a five-minute stroll, he entered the bustling local flea market.
'This is my first time actually touring the area,' he realized.
Numerous vendors were shouting out prices for fresh fruits and vegetables, and a long, aromatic line of food stalls stretched down the road.
Eventually, a particular building tucked away from the main thoroughfare caught his eye.
Sword Training Center A simple, worn-out whiteboard hung on the exterior wall serving as a sign. The building's structure bore visible cracks, and the faded paint was peeling away in large strips.
A faint smile graced Sam's face. "Let's go for a trial," he muttered under his breath. He approached the entrance and knocked firmly on the wooden door.
"Is anybody here?"
Creak! The door swung open, revealing a man with a remarkably rough, uneven beard that looked like it hadn't been shaved in months. Despite the unkempt facial hair, his underlying features were refined.
"Sword training?" the man grunted.
Sam nodded. The man's eyes held a sharp, piercing glare, yet his overall posture and the energy he exuded felt incredibly lazy and lethargic.
"Follow me," the man spat, turning his back.
Sam followed him carefully, his eyes darting around to analyze the surroundings. They walked through a wide, open verandah.
'This must be the primary training area,' Sam thought.
The bearded man led him toward a staircase on the left. "The ground floor is mainly for physical conditioning and basic training," the man explained without looking back.
'Just as I expected.'
However, as soon as Sam ascended to the first floor, his eyes widened in absolute awe. Countless swords were meticulously mounted across the walls. The polished blades caught the ambient light, reflecting dazzling flashes across the room.
"This floor is exclusively for those who pass the basic selection on the ground floor," the man stated.
"Can I touch them?" Sam asked, almost breathlessly.
The bearded man shot him a terrifyingly stern glare.
Sam gulped, forcing an awkward smile. "Ah, it's okay... I was just a little too excited."
"You can," the man said softly, his glare softening slightly.
Sam stepped up to the nearest weapon rack, staring at the steel with sparkling eyes. 'It feels like I've stepped into a historical drama,' he thought.
Barely containing his excitement, he unmounted a standard longsword. His fingers traced lightly along the flat of the blade. 'So, this is how a real weapon feels!' The polished edge acted like a mirror, reflecting his calm face. It looked sharp enough to cleave through solid rock.
'This weight... this balance!' He examined the lethal tip and the leather-wrapped handle, his fingers tracing every detail like an overeager kid with a new toy.
Forcing himself to calm down, he carefully mounted the sword back onto its wall bracket. "What is the procedure for registration?"
The bearded man stepped forward and unmounted a different sword. He held it casually, his voice dropping an octave. "If you choose to wield a sword, I will warn you right now—turn back and change your mind."
"No need," Sam replied firmly. "I'm ready."
The bearded man's eyes shifted for just a split second.
Instantly, Sam felt as though a freezing, glacial wind had physically crashed into his chest. He shuddered violently. He tried to stand bravely, refusing to blink, as if he could manifest his sheer willpower to resist the terrifying, suffocating aura.
He failed miserably.
Thud! Sam's knees buckled. He collapsed to the floor, his face deathly pale, feeling as though his very soul might wither away at any moment under the crushing pressure.
The bearded man looked down at him and shook his head in disappointment. "You are not ready. Go home. Find your true reason for wielding a sword."
Sam stared blankly at the polished wooden floorboards, gasping for breath.
'My resolve isn't ready?' he thought. 'Is my willpower really that weak?'
Forcing his trembling muscles to obey, he slowly raised his pale face and looked the terrifying man in the eye. "I want to register myself in this training center."
The bearded man stared back for a long moment before the crushing aura instantly vanished.
"Okay. As you wish," the man said casually, as if nothing had happened. "30,000 U.C. per month."
Taking a ragged, deep breath, Sam forcefully resisted the urge to curse the man out. Before coming here, he had already researched the local market rates for combat training.
He knew 30,000 U.C. was an absolute scam, but considering the terrifying pressure he had just experienced, he knew this instructor was no ordinary fraud.
He nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll pay half right now, and the other half at the end of the month."
The bearded man simply nodded.