He could finally make out the trajectory of his opponent's attacks, even if his body still reacted a fraction of a second too slowly.
He began to understand the terrifying principles of force transmission and the essence of how the human body could be damaged, hidden behind those seemingly simple movements.
Time raced by wildly in this space warped by the system. Toudou Shizuka was like an ordinary person cast into the fires of hell, greedily, painfully, and frantically absorbing the deadly nourishment known as "S-Rank Fighting Style" as he was broken to pieces again and again.
[Fighting Style (Military-Grade Mixed Martial Arts) Comprehension: 99.99%!]
When the notification finally appeared, Toudou Shizuka was half-kneeling on the ground in a twisted pose, his right hand locking the elbow of the virtual "Ayanokouji" in the opposite direction at an impossible angle! He was covered in blood (virtual), his school uniform was in tatters, and simulated bruises and wounds covered his body. But his eyes shone with a frightening brightness, like burning stars.
The virtual projection across from him froze. Toudou Shizuka could feel that every movement and every ounce of force he exerted now fit precisely into the gaps and weak points in his opponent's attacks, forming an almost instinctive ability to predict and counter them.
[Comprehension has reached the critical threshold! Skill mastery conditions met!]
[Consolidating neural and muscle memory... Complete!]
[Congratulations, Host! You have successfully mastered the skill: Fighting Style (Military-Grade Mixed Martial Arts)! Rank: S-Rank!]
[Simulation Points acquired: 100!]
Boom!
A massive flow of information surged into Toudou Shizuka's mind like a flood bursting through a dam! Countless fragments concerning human anatomy, techniques for applying force, combat experience, and tactical responses fused perfectly with the painful insights he had gained through countless deaths in the Training Ground! At the same time, a strange warmth coursed through his entire body, as if countless invisible hands were massaging and reshaping his muscle fibers and neural pathways. He could clearly feel the combat instincts carved deep into his soul being completely updated and overwritten!
When the torrent subsided, Toudou Shizuka's eyes snapped open.
The cold Virtual Training Ground was gone. In its place was the gently swaying bus interior. Early summer sunlight filtered through the windows, casting shifting patches of light across the floor. The hum of the engine, the students' quiet murmurs, and the little dispute over seats near the front that seemed to have just ended filled his ears—only an instant had passed in the real world!
He was still sitting in the corner with his head slightly bowed, his shoulder bag resting on his knees. He looked no different from a few seconds ago. Only he knew that the surging strength within him and the cold instincts of a top predator embedded deep in his bones felt so real, and so unfamiliar. He unconsciously flexed his fingers, and his knuckles gave a faint, powerful crack, as if they held enough strength to shatter stone with ease.
Just then, he felt a faint but unmistakable gaze on him.
Toudou Shizuka's heart tightened, but his face remained calm and composed, just as "Toudou Shizuka" should be. With a touch of grogginess, as though he had just woken up, he naturally lifted his head and followed the gaze.
Their eyes met.
At the back of the bus, in the window seat of the last row, Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was no longer looking outside. His eyes, dull as inorganic glass beads, calmly and emotionlessly pierced through the shifting figures and settled on Toudou Shizuka's face.
His gaze was faint and composed, with no trace of curiosity or suspicion. It was as though he had merely glanced at an unremarkable corner of the bus—at an ordinary classmate whose presence had... seemed to change in some subtle way just a moment ago.
Toudou Shizuka's breathing did not falter in the slightest. His eyes showed just the right hint of confusion at being watched by a stranger, along with the unease of an introvert. Then, as if embarrassed, he quickly and naturally lowered his head again, breaking eye contact.
The instant he lowered his head, a tiny blue system notification appeared in the upper-right corner of his vision, visible only to him:
[Fighting Style (S-Rank) successfully acquired.]
[Brief gaze detected from target (Ayanokouji Kiyotaka). Correlation Analysis: Extremely low. No threat detected.]
From an angle no one could see, the corner of Toudou Shizuka's mouth lifted ever so slightly, then fell.
He sat quietly, like a drop of water blending into the sea. Only his palm, pressed against his knee, was slightly damp with sweat.
Ayanokouji Kiyotaka would never know that in the brief moment their eyes met, the quiet, nearly invisible ordinary student sitting in the corner of Class B had been "killed" by him over a hundred times in the mental world—and had successfully stolen the S-Rank fangs he took such pride in.
The bus continued smoothly toward its destination. The imposing outline of Kōdo Ikusei High School was already clear on the horizon. Toudou Shizuka gazed at the scenery rushing past the window, feeling the new strength surging within him and the striking [Simulation Points: 100] displayed on the System Interface in his vision.
The bus rolled smoothly along, the engine's low hum the only background noise in the cabin. Toudou Shizuka kept his head bowed, his fingers absently rubbing the rough fabric of the shoulder bag on his knees. A wholly different sense of strength surged through him—the cold instincts of a sleeping beast, born of S-Rank military combat skills, clashing strangely with the gentle disposition of Toudou Shizuka's body. He needed time to adjust, to hide these deadly fangs deep beneath a docile exterior.
At the front of the bus, the brief standoff over the seats continued. The elderly woman with graying hair held onto the railing, swaying slightly with the bus and wearing a faintly weary, awkward expression. Several students sat in the priority seats. Some lowered their heads and pretended to play on their phones; others looked out the window, their gazes wandering. Not one of them got up. A subtle awkwardness and evasive silence hung in the air.
Just then, a clear, pleasant female voice, filled with just the right amount of concern, broke the silence.
"Grandma, you can have my seat!"
Everyone's attention was drawn to her at once. In the aisle near the middle of the bus, Kushida Kikyo, her light brown hair catching the light, stood up briskly with an angelically pure, warm smile. She even took a couple of steps toward the elderly woman and gently helped her by the arm. Her movements were natural and fluid, and her tone sincere and warm, without the slightest hint of affectation or condescension, as if it were the most ordinary kindness in the world.
"Oh my, you really don't have to..." The old woman seemed a little overwhelmed.
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