The team continued their training, cutting down their respective clones with increasing efficiency. Raiden grew swifter with each duplicate he faced, his strikes deadlier and more precise, electricity arcing through the simulated environment with controlled devastation. His initial unease at the thrill of destruction gradually transformed into calculated execution—clinical rather than emotional.

  Rei, still shaken by his own brutal display, became noticeably more efficient with each new Kage clone he faced. No longer did he inflict unnecessary pain; instead, his movements sharpened into clean, lethal strikes. His eyes remained clear, focused, betraying none of the inner conflict that still churned beneath the surface.

  Meanwhile, Hiro and his clones remained locked in their bizarre standoff, engaging in behavior that only Hiro could comprehend. At one point, they sat cross-legged, facing each other in perfect symmetry, communicating through a series of blinks and gill-flutters that left Kage both confused and irritated.

  "That is not combat training," Kage muttered, shaking his head at the spectacle.

  After observing for several hours, Kage finally called a halt to the session. "That's enough for today," he announced, dismissing them with a casual wave. "Rest tomorrow morning, but don't get soft. Saturday afternoon, you're expected at Fumiko's for physical training with her father. I want a full report of what he teaches you."

  As they left the simulation chamber, the burning cityscape dissolved back into the empty room, the sudden absence of smoke and heat making the air feel strangely hollow. The transition from violence to normalcy was jarring, leaving each of them lost in their own thoughts about what they'd just experienced.

  That night, Rei barely slept. The memory of blood on his hands—artificial though it was—kept him tossing and turning until dawn. By the time morning light filtered through his blinds, he had made peace with what he'd done. Not because it felt right, but because he understood its necessity. In this world, sometimes violence was the only language others understood.

  Saturday's clear blue sky offered a stark contrast to the previous evening's simulated inferno. The warm afternoon sun bathed the streets as Rei, Hinata, and Josuke made their way to Fumiko's home. Their conversation remained light, deliberately avoiding discussion of the previous night's training. Some experiences were better left unshared, at least for now.

  They descended into the basement dojo where Asahi conducted his training. The underground space was cool and well-ventilated despite being below ground, with polished wooden floors, sliding paper doors, and training weapons arranged neatly along one wall. Incense burned in one corner, filling the air with a calming aroma meant to center the mind.

  They began with the bucket training, just as Hinata had described. Rei started with the 20kg buckets, gripping them effortlessly. His expression remained neutral as he lifted them, showing none of the strain that such weight would typically cause in a beginner.

  Asahi, observing his ease, decided to push further. The older man's eyes narrowed slightly, assessing this new student with professional curiosity.

  With a simple wave of his hand, Asahi increased the mass to 60kg. Rei barely flinched at the shift, his posture remaining solid, his breathing steady.

  My goodness... Asahi thought, genuinely intrigued by this display of strength. Testing the limits, he raised the weight to 100kg. Yet still, no visible reaction from Rei beyond a slight adjustment of his grip.

  Hinata, watching from the side, smiled inwardly, pleased with her own progress. Her training had allowed her to maintain her grip on 80kg, but she knew she was still far from Rei's level. Still, the improvement from where she'd started was significant—a testament to Asahi's methods and her own determination.

  Josuke, meanwhile, struggled with the 25kg weights, his knuckles whitening as he barely kept his grip. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his arms trembled visibly with the effort.

  "Focus your mana into your hands," Asahi advised, his voice calm but firm. "Don't just grip with your physical strength. Let your energy support the burden."

  Josuke took a deep breath, closing his eyes and recalling Bernard's mana refinement training. The principles were different, but the core concept of channeling energy remained the same. Slowly, his grip stabilized, a faint blue glow appearing around his fingers as he regained control of the buckets.

  Asahi turned back to Rei, impressed but determined to find his limit. "I will double the mass to 200kg. Are you ready?"

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  Rei gave a firm nod, his eyes showing no fear, only acceptance of the challenge.

  Asahi made the adjustment, and this time, Rei felt the difference. The weight bore down, forcing him to rely on something beyond his physical abilities for the first time. His breath deepened as he instinctively channeled energy into his arms and hands, struggling to maintain his stance. His body trembled slightly, muscles straining against the unprecedented load.

  "Breathe," Asahi instructed, his voice carrying years of experience. "Find your center. Let the mana flow naturally through your pathways."

  Rei had always relied on his natural physical gifts—strength and speed that far exceeded normal human limits. But this was different. He could feel something new awakening within him, an energy that flowed through his muscles, reinforcing them beyond their natural capacity.

  So this is mana reinforcement, Rei realized, a sense of discovery washing over him. The power flowing through his arms felt different than the transformations he'd experienced before—not the cold calculation of blue eyes or the savage strength of red, but something that was entirely his own.

  The atmosphere suddenly shifted, a noticeable change in the air occurring as Rei's control over his mana emerged. Unlike previous times when his eyes would change color, this time, it was entirely his own doing—conscious control rather than instinctive reaction.

  Asahi narrowed his gaze, fascinated by the phenomenon. What was that shift just now? It wasn't just mana reinforcement; it was something deeper, more fundamental.

  Rei himself was equally surprised. His strength had always been there, but this was different—this was strength he could control, direct, amplify. If he could interweave this mana reinforcement into his fighting style... the possibilities were staggering. No longer would he need to rely solely on his mysterious transformations for power.

  Josuke, eager to prove himself and not to be outdone, stepped forward. "Double mine too!"

  Asahi arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

  Josuke nodded confidently, puffing out his chest. The moment the weight increased, however, the buckets slipped from his grip, landing directly on his toe.

  A shriek echoed through the dojo as Josuke collapsed, clutching his foot and rolling dramatically across the floor. "AH! MY TOE! I THINK IT'S BROKEN!"

  The entire group erupted into laughter, even Rei managing a slight curl of his lips. Their own buckets slipped from their grasp due to the distraction, though with much less catastrophic results than Josuke's.

  Asahi shook his head, lightening Josuke's burden as Fumiko helped pull him aside. "Alright, enough training for now. I'll prepare ramen for our future soldiers." Despite his stern demeanor, there was warmth in his voice—the pride of a teacher seeing potential in his students.

  Fumiko chuckled as she examined Josuke's foot, which was already swelling. "Hinata and Rei's progress is incredible. Eventually, Josuke will catch up... hopefully." The last word was added with a teasing glance at Josuke, who groaned in response.

  Later that afternoon, the group—now including Josuke with ice bags on his toes—began cleaning the kitchen and dojo. The simple task created a sense of camaraderie, everyone contributing to maintain the space that was shaping them.

  As they worked, Rei sighed. "This training is brutal."

  Hinata wiped down the counter, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, and we haven't even started concept training yet. Asahi believes discipline and hand-to-hand combat are the fundamentals."

  Rei nodded. "I get it, but at some point, I need to figure out what my concept actually is. There will come a day when I won't have a choice but to use it." The memory of his transformation during the fight with Raiden lingered in his mind—power unleashed without understanding, control lost in the heat of battle.

  "Now that I know how to use mana reinforcement, I can combine it with my fighting style," Rei added, studying his hands thoughtfully. "Still, I need to understand what's happening when my eyes change."

  Asahi, overhearing, turned to Rei. "Sorry to interrupt, young man. I'm an avid enthusiast of the Academy and its heroes. You were gifted a license by Haikito—how do you not know what your concept is?"

  The direct question hung in the air, highlighting the unusual nature of Rei's situation.

  Rei hesitated. "I have no clue. Sometimes, I lose control. Things go blurry, and when I wake up, I have a headache. It's happened before."

  Hinata's brows furrowed. "Like when Penguin attacked?"

  Rei shook his head. "No, the first time was with Baku. All I remember is vanishing behind him, closing his mouth, and then blacking out." The memory was fragmented, pieces missing from what should have been a continuous experience.

  Asahi stroked his chin, deep in thought. "Strange... I can't say I've heard of an ability like that."

  The group finished cleaning, and as they prepared to leave, Hinata smiled. "Tomorrow at my place around 2 PM should be perfect."

  Fumiko nodded. "I'll let Sama know."

  Rei hesitated before asking nervously, "Mind if I invite Raiden and Hiro?"

  Hinata shrugged. "Sure."

  The group walked together, with Hinata and Rei leading while Josuke dragged his feet, still suffering from his earlier mishap. The conversation shifted to lighter topics—upcoming exams, favorite foods, plans for the weekend—normal teenage concerns that momentarily pushed aside the weight of their training and responsibilities.

  Several blocks away, a familiar face watched from the shadows.

  Sylvester peered through his specialized heat goggles, a smirk forming on his lips as he tracked the group's movement. His body had mostly recovered from Haikito's beating, though the humiliation burned far hotter than any physical pain.

  "Everyone will be there tomorrow," he whispered to the silent figure looming behind him. "Rei, Hinata, Josuke, and even the extras—all gathered in one place." His fingers twitched with anticipation, the acid beneath his skin bubbling with eagerness. "The perfect opportunity for us to finish what we started."

  The shadowy figure shifted slightly, bone structures creaking beneath a heavy cloak. The sound of grinding joints filled the silence as the figure nodded once—a single, definitive gesture that sealed tomorrow's fate.

  Sylvester grinned. After tomorrow, the Vessel would be dead, and his humiliation would be avenged.