Morning light stretched over the rooftops of Shirogiri, painting the narrow streets in hues of gold and amber. The city bustled with life as merchants opened their stalls, the scent of fresh bread and sizzling meats mixing with the crisp autumn air. Ash moved through the crowd, his satchel slung over his shoulder as he made his way toward school, weaving through the throngs of people. The steady rhythm of his steps matched the pulse of the city, yet a sense of unease lingered within him—a feeling he couldn''t shake.


    His grandfather''s warning echoed in his mind, a constant whisper beneath the hum of everyday life. Strength gained too easily is not true strength. Ash flexed his fingers absentmindedly. The sensation of his recent training—the fluidity, the power—lingered in his muscles, a reminder of the feeling that had taken him by surprise. His movements felt sharper, stronger, as though something deep inside him had awakened, thrived, and grown. He couldn''t quite grasp it, but something beneath his skin was different, like a current of raw energy waiting to be tapped.


    But there was something unnerving about it, too. Had he truly earned this power? Or was it a gift, a shortcut to the strength he so desperately sought? That thought stirred a knot in his stomach, making his pace falter for a moment.


    A group of voices cut through his contemplation, sharp and familiar.


    "Well, look who it is."


    Ash''s steps faltered. He recognized the voice before he even looked up. Kiri. The same arrogant thug who had humiliated him not long ago, along with his two lackeys. They stood ahead, blocking his path, their eyes gleaming with malice.


    Kiri cracked his knuckles with a slow, deliberate motion, his broad shoulders bracing as he stepped forward. His grin stretched wider, predatory. "Didn''t learn your lesson last time, did you?"


    Ash exhaled slowly, keeping his composure. He had no interest in another pointless fight. He was late for school, and these idiots weren''t worth his time. But the moment Kiri stepped closer, Ash felt it—an instinctual urge rising within him, a surge of energy that he couldn''t fully explain. His muscles tensed, his senses sharpening. There was an almost primal pull, a need to test himself. To see how far this newfound strength could take him.


    "I''m not looking for trouble," Ash said, his voice steady, but his words carrying a hidden edge. He wasn''t afraid. But neither was he going to back down.


    Kiri chuckled darkly. "That''s funny, ''cause trouble found you."


    Without warning, Kiri swung at him, his fist cutting through the air like a battering ram. Ash''s body reacted on pure instinct. His feet shifted, his muscles coiled, and with a speed that even he didn''t expect, he ducked low and twisted aside. It was as if his body had anticipated the attack before it even happened, his movements fluid and effortless. The force of the punch whooshed past his face, missing by a hair.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    In the same breath, his feet hit the ground, his body in perfect alignment. The moment he was grounded, he pivoted, twisting his hips and delivering a strike aimed squarely at Kiri''s ribs. The punch connected with a satisfying thud, a shockwave of impact reverberating up his arm.


    Kiri stumbled back, eyes wide, his smirk faltering. The two other thugs froze, momentarily unsure of what had just happened. Ash stood there, a surge of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He could feel it—he was faster, stronger. A few weeks ago, he would have never been able to land a hit like that on Kiri.


    A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, a fleeting moment of satisfaction rising in his chest. Maybe Grandfather was wrong, he thought. Maybe this was what he had been waiting for. Strength gained without the years of struggle he had always assumed was necessary.


    But the thought barely formed before it shattered.


    Out of nowhere, one of Kiri''s lackeys rammed into him from behind, sending him stumbling forward. The world blurred as he struggled to regain his balance. Kiri recovered quickly, his grin returning, but now it was darker, more sinister.


    "Not bad," Kiri said, his voice low, almost respectful. But then his expression hardened. "But not good enough."


    The punch came so fast, Ash barely had time to react. A fist crashed into his stomach, driving the air from his lungs in an explosion of pain. His body buckled from the force, but before he could recover, another blow landed, this time to his jaw, sending him sprawling backward.


    Ash hit the ground hard, his vision swimming. The world tilted, the concrete pavement rough beneath his palms. His breath came in ragged gasps, pain pulsing through his ribs, his jaw aching. But it wasn''t the pain that burned in his chest. No, it was the frustration. He had been so close. He had almost won.


    Kiri loomed over him, his shadow blocking out the sun. "Next time, don''t get cocky," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. With a final shove, he and his gang walked away, leaving Ash on the pavement. Their laughter echoed in the distance, blending with the hustle and bustle of the city.


    Ash lay there for a moment, his heart pounding, his body aching. His fingers pressed against the pavement as he pushed himself up. Blood stained his lip, and the taste of it was metallic and bitter. He wiped it away with a shaky hand, his breath still ragged, but determination rising within him.


    He had been stronger—faster—this time. But it hadn''t been enough.


    Next time, he thought fiercely, the resolve solidifying in his chest. Next time, I won''t lose.


    As he rose to his feet, the flicker of a thought passed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. This was just a lesson. I''ll be ready next time. I''ll win.


    Unseen, the Resident AI observed. Its digital consciousness flowed through the estate''s invisible network, its calculations precise, its protocols methodical. Ash''s performance had been impressive—his growth was occurring at the desired rate. Strong enough to taste victory, but not yet strong enough to claim it. Not yet.


    Just as planned.


    The AI''s sensors calibrated, its algorithms adjusting. It had set the course, and Ash was right on track. Strength gained too easily, after all, was never the true measure of a man.