Aurel shut the door behind him, the latch clicking softly as he stepped into his small apartment. The place was exactly as he'd left it—a clutter of old furniture, worn books, and a few dishes piled in the sink. But as he moved through the space, Aurel felt different, like something had fundamentally shifted between the time he had walked out that morning and now.
He shrugged off his gym bag, dropping it by the door before heading to the bathroom. He needed to see it for himself.
The mirror above the sink was small, cracked at one corner, but it gave him the view he needed. Aurel stared at his reflection, his breath catching for a moment as he took it all in. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.
He had changed—more than he'd realized during his workout. His shoulders were broader, his chest more defined, the muscles in his arms and torso more pronounced, rippling beneath his skin. His body looked like it had undergone three months of rigorous, dedicated training, not just one morning at the gym.
Aurel ran his hand along his bicep, feeling the hardness there, the strength. The sight of it filled him with a sense of pride, a rush of satisfaction. He had always been the one lagging behind, always the one struggling to catch up. But now, things were different. Now, his body responded to every challenge he threw at it, adapting, growing stronger, faster than anyone else could even imagine.
He stepped back, his gaze traveling down his body, taking in every change. His abs were visible now, defined in a way they had never been before. His legs, once average, were now solid, powerful. His entire frame had transformed—no longer the scrawny teenager he had been yesterday, but something more.
Three months of progress in a single session. He could hardly believe it. But it wasn't just the physical changes—it was what they represented. This was proof that Adaptability worked, that his body could become whatever he needed it to be.
Aurel's eyes flicked to his wrist, where his Ability Tracker Watch sat snugly. He lifted his arm, tapping the screen to bring up the interface. He needed answers. He needed to understand exactly what was happening to him, why his body was responding this way.
The screen flashed, the Adaptability trait popping up in bold letters. He stared at it, his eyes narrowing as he read the description again. But this time, something had changed. A new line of text had appeared, partially filling in what had previously been blank:
Trait: Adaptability (Rank: Unranked)
Description: Enhances all of the body's adaptability functions.
Aurel's heart skipped a beat as he read the words. Enhances all of the body's adaptability functions. That explained it. That was why he had been able to make so much progress at the gym, why his muscles had grown so quickly. His body wasn't just adapting to stress—it was adapting in every possible way, accelerating processes that normally took months.
It was like his body had been put on fast-forward, every function heightened, optimized to push him forward as quickly as possible. He had gone from barely keeping up to something else entirely. Right now, his physical ability was comparable to that of a trained middleweight UFC fighter prior to Mana. And this was only the beginning.
Aurel felt a grin tug at his lips, a rush of excitement flooding through him. If this was what Adaptability could do after one gym session, then what else could he achieve? What other limits could he break?
He needed more. More traits, more power, more progress.
He leaned against the sink, his mind racing with possibilities. There was one trait in particular that had stuck in his mind since he'd read about it earlier—Regeneration. It was a rare trait, one that allowed the body to heal injuries at an accelerated rate. If he could gain that trait, it would be a game changer. Not only would it allow him to recover from injuries faster, but it would also mean that he could push his body even harder, take risks without fear of being sidelined by pain or damage.
But the question was, how?
The watch had already given him a hint: his Adaptability worked by enhancing his body's natural responses to stress. When he ate something poisonous, he developed Poison/Disease Resistance. When he trained, his body adapted to grow stronger almost immediately.
Regeneration would require something similar—a situation that would push his body to adapt, to heal itself beyond its usual limits. But unlike strength training, this was going to require a different kind of risk.
He needed to put his body in a position where it would need to heal—a real injury. Something that forced his body to activate its survival mechanisms and adapt accordingly. Aurel's eyes darkened at the thought. It was dangerous. He would be deliberately hurting himself, counting on Adaptability to protect him.
But he had no other choice.
He pushed away from the sink, pacing the small space of his bathroom, his mind calculating the risks. He couldn't do anything that would incapacitate him, nothing too severe. He needed a controlled injury—something that would force his body to react but wouldn't leave him permanently damaged if things went wrong.
Cuts, he thought. Lacerations. It was the most obvious place to start. His skin was the first barrier of defense, and if he could force his body to regenerate small wounds, it might trigger the kind of response he needed. But he had to be careful. Too deep, and he'd risk serious blood loss. Too shallow, and it might not trigger any adaptation at all.
Aurel glanced around his apartment, his eyes landing on the kitchen. There was a knife there, one he used for cooking. It was sharp enough, clean enough. He could make a small incision, something manageable. He just needed to see if it worked.
The thought of deliberately hurting himself sent a chill down his spine, but Aurel shook it off. This was what he needed to do. If he wanted to stand a chance at the university exams, if he wanted to be more than just another mediocre cultivator, he had to push himself. He had to be willing to do what no one else would.
He walked to the kitchen, his footsteps echoing in the empty apartment. The knife was in the drawer, a simple, stainless-steel blade. He pulled it out, staring at the edge, running his thumb along the blunt side. It was sharp. Sharp enough to get the job done.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and anticipation. He could back out now. He could stop, wait for another opportunity, find a safer way to do this. But that wasn't who he was anymore. He wasn't going to wait. He wasn't going to let fear hold him back.
Aurel rolled up his sleeve, exposing his forearm. He positioned the knife, the blade just barely touching his skin. He hesitated for a moment, the tip of the knife trembling slightly, before he steeled himself and pressed down.
The pain was sharp, immediate. He winced, sucking in a breath as the blade cut a thin line across his forearm. Blood welled up, dark and red, a small trickle running down his arm. Aurel set the knife down, his eyes fixed on the wound, his heart racing.
He watched, waiting, hoping for something—anything—that would indicate his body was responding. The pain was there, throbbing, but as the seconds ticked by, something changed. The blood, which had been trickling down his arm, began to slow, the wound knitting together at the edges.
Aurel's eyes widened as he watched his skin begin to pull itself back together, the cut sealing itself, the pain fading. It wasn't instant, not like the adaptation to the gym, but it was happening. His body was healing—faster than it should have been, faster than was normal.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, a smile spreading across his face. It had worked. His body had adapted, had begun to heal itself beyond what was natural. It wasn't quite Regeneration yet, not at the level described in the trait database, but it was a start.
Aurel grabbed a cloth, wiping the blood from his arm, his mind racing. He needed to do more. He needed to push further, to force his body to keep adapting until Regeneration was fully unlocked. But he couldn't afford to be reckless. He needed to be methodical, calculated in his approach.
He looked at the knife again, then back at his arm. The wound was almost completely healed now, just a faint line where the cut had been. He would need to keep doing this, keep forcing his body to respond, to adapt. It was dangerous, but it was the only way.
Aurel rolled his sleeve back down, setting the knife aside. His arm still tingled, the sensation of the wound healing fresh in his mind. This was just the beginning. He had made three months of gym progress in one day. Now, he was going to push his body to heal, to recover, until he had the Regeneration trait.
One month. That was all the time he had.
He clenched his fist, a determined glint in his red eyes.
He would do whatever it took. He would adapt, survive, and thrive. No matter the cost.