The days just after spring had passed, before the summer heat arrived, were the most comfortable and pleasant time of year.
Wolf Mountain Town and the surrounding plains and valleys were almost entirely covered in green. Even the old Howlett estate was draped in countless climbing vines, wisteria, and all kinds of thorny shrubs, turning it into a "fuzzy" old castle.
The morning sun had only just risen a little higher when its slanted rays fell on the semicircular balcony jutting from the main building of the old estate.
James Howlett pushed open the floor-to-ceiling glass doors on the sunny side of his bedroom. Wearing a casually draped black-and-red striped silk smoking jacket, he stood on the balcony, conjured a spark between two fingers, and lit his cigar, taking a leisurely puff.
On the training grounds on the distant slope, a group of young wolves had already begun their training for the day.
You might imagine that the young men practicing hand-to-hand combat in this ancient family estate, isolated from the outside world, would hone their bodies with primitive equipment made from boulders and logs, lending the place a mysterious, rustic, and desolate air.
But on the vast training grounds paved with bluestone, the raised bricks revealed a dark alloy platform emerging from beneath the ground. It was fitted with metal punching targets and posts for testing destructive power, along with all kinds of boxing and physical training equipment.
The training ground could even activate a gravity field of a certain intensity, letting trainees feel the pressure all around them. It was far more advanced than the rudimentary conditions James had trained under in the Underground Palace in his early days.
James rested both hands on the stone railing and watched the young people preparing to spar on the training