05:30 AM
Private Gym inside Ren's Apartment
The sound of rhythmic breathing and the thud of feet against rubber mats were the only melodies in the room. Shawn was shadowboxing, his movements lightning-fast, but Rion sat in a corner chair, watching with a dissatisfied gaze.
"You're wasting too much energy on unnecessary movements," Rion said quietly.
Shawn stopped, sweat drenching his face. He glared at Rion with a suppressed irritation. "These movements took down three men in the lower sector last week."
"Three amateurs," Rion countered. He stood up slowly, stifling a small wince as his abdominal muscles tightened. "An executioner from Osaka won't wait for you to finish your spin kick. They'll shoot you the exact moment you lose your balance in mid-air."
Rion approached Shawn, picking up a short wooden training stick. "Try again. Attack me as if you intend to kill me right now."
**Gin**, who had just entered with data reports, froze at the doorway. He watched the scene with curiosity. A man whose stomach had just been stitched back together was challenging Ren's most aggressive protégé.
Shawn lunged. He moved forward at full speed, but Rion made only a tiny shift—just a few centimeters—and used the tip of the stick to press a nerve point on Shawn's wrist.
Thack.
Shawn let out a sharp gasp, and his training dagger clattered onto the mat.
"Efficiency, Shawn. In the real world, the beauty of your movement won't save your life," Rion said. He handed the stick back to the boy. "Do it again until you can do it without thinking."
Ren appeared on the interior balcony overlooking the gym, holding a porcelain cup of black tea. She observed how Rion was not just providing technique, but a mental discipline different from what she had taught.
"Are you training them to be soldiers, Rion?" Ren asked from above.
Rion looked up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I'm training them to stay alive when I'm not there to deceive their opponents."
Gin approached Ren, handing her a digital tablet. "There's movement at the docks. Not the Yakuza, but Boston MC. They've tightened patrols around the old warehouses. It seems the rumors of a 'ghost at Pier 12' are making everyone paranoid."
Rion and Ren exchanged a look. Tension in Ironport was rising, though no explosion had occurred yet. Every faction was beginning to grope in the dark, trying to figure out who was disturbing their peace.
"Let them be paranoid," Rion muttered. "Paranoia is the best crack to slip a needle through."
The morning was spent with grueling practice for Shawn and deep data analysis for Gin under Rion's guidance. The luxury apartment now felt more like a military training camp than a home. Ren realized that Rion's presence had shifted the atmosphere; there was a new gravity here, and everything was slowly beginning to orbit the strategy Rion was building.