"Since telekinesis itself is already such a versatile skill, if you have extra points, it might be worth spending them to extend your time in Transcender Space for training. Our abilities are practically unusable back in reality, so there's no need for supplies since a soul transmigration only takes yourself."
"I checked," I continued, "revisiting a world you've been to costs ten points a day. Staying in Transcender Space is cheaper though, only five points per day."
Danny was nodding along, mentally jotting down every tip I mentioned. Angela, however, seemed more intrigued by the idea of a dimensional exploration mark.
"That exploration mark is a curious thing. You'll have to tell us about it afterward," she said with a raised brow.
I laughed, brushing it off lightly. "Count on it! Well, I'm heading back now—I just redeemed a set of internal martial arts, so I better start training hard. Next time you see me, I might just be a martial arts master. Stay safe on your missions, Danny, Angela. Leave me a message if you need help."
After exchanging our contact info in the real world, I ended my first adventure in Transcender Space, bidding them farewell as I opened the door and stepped through.
"Whoa!" I jerked upright from the sofa. The clothes I had bought were gone, replaced with my old comfy homewear from before I got pulled into that game, and my phone was right back in my pocket.
Looking down at the silver ring on my left middle finger, I wondered, 'Is that whole experience a dreamscape or an actual transmigration?' I yawned, checking my phone—it was only 4:30 p.m. Barely half an hour had passed since my catnap started, 'Great. Didn't even get a real rest, and now I'm more drained than before.'
I fired up my laptop, glancing through the latest headlines. "Foreign pandemic outbreak spikes again… Ah, the Pandora country is back at it, I see." I clicked into another story. "Real estate scandal in Eldrea—BeNest Apartments embezzles millions from tenant deposits, leaving thousands homeless."
My jaw dropped, 'Man, some of these corporate sharks were ruthless. If I master my martial arts, I'd love to hunt down people like that and make them pay.'
'Then again, brute force alone won't track down the masterminds behind the scenes. I'd need to redeem some intelligence-gathering abilities or gadgets for that. Whoa, okay, rein it in, Lucas!'
Before today, reading this sort of news would've made me mad, hoping the authorities would step in.
Now, my first thought was vigilante justice,'Nietzsche was right—people with power crave justice their own way. I'm just a rookie with barely any training, yet I'm already planning how to enact justice myself? The audacity...'
'Guess I should start with some research on local martial arts gyms and academies if I'm serious about leveling up.
"Miyagi's Cobra Kai Academy, Muhammad's Boxing Club, Chen's Taichi Fusion…" I frowned, staring at the map filled with red dots.
There were so many options, but I needed a real mentor who could teach me something compatible with my internal energy. Problem was, I had no clue how to even beginz,'Ah! I remembe there were martial arts clubs from school's recruitment fair at the start of term.
Coastal University's Taichi Club was run by someone named Miyamura, I think. Word was his family owned a dojo. At least as a university-endorsed club leader, he'd be less likely to be a fraud. I'd check it out tomorrow.
———
The next day, I got up early, fixed on shaking off the rust. After coming back from Transcender Space, I was pumped and had set up an ambitious training plan: three weeks to rebuild my basics, two months to reach mastery.
Coastal University was peaceful and picturesque in the morning, with trees starting to turn shades of red, orange, and green. The grass on the track field glistened with dew under the first light. I put on my barely-used running shoes and made my way to the track, where a few other students were already warming up.
A bit ahead of me was a girl in a white athletic outfit, her jet-black ponytail bouncing in time with her strides. The way her athletic frame moved with each step... yeah, she was an easy focus point.
The first lap felt good, but before long, I watched as the distance between us widened. By lap two, I was feeling the burn and slowed down considerably. By lap three, it was getting rough—my lungs were practically on fire, and I was struggling to keep pace. By the fifth lap, I was a mess, stumbling along while trying to keep my arms moving in sync with my dead-tired legs.
In the end, I barely made it, panting heavily as I hunched over, drenched in sweat.
Meanwhile, the girl in white had already lapped me twice, probably laughing at my snail's pace. I could swear I caught her stifling a smile as she passed me again.
"Ugh, is this what happens to shut-ins? How did I lose my stamina this fast? It's only been three years since high school." I doubled over, hands on my knees as I gasped for air.
Checked my watch—'two kilometers in twelve minutes? Pathetic. Back in high school, I used to be a long-distance champ. Guess three years of university have turned me soft.'
I straightened up, sucking in deep breaths.
Taichi Club had their morning practice around 8 a.m., so I figured I'd check it out. I'd also swing by the Sanda Club later in the day. Maybe I'd hit the gym too.
The thought of rebuilding my stamina made me wince—had I known it would be this painful, I'd never have let myself go in the first place.
Following the directions I'd found online, I headed to the Taichi Club's training hall, a place I'd never set foot in despite being at Coastal University for over three years.
The hall was spacious, simple, and clean. About twenty members were practicing their forms, all dressed in white martial arts uniforms that looked traditional yet modern and neat.
I looked around before approaching a tall, slim guy standing off to the side. "Hey, is this the Taichi Club?"
He smiled warmly. "Yep, welcome! Thinking about joining the club?"
"Yes! I've always been interested in traditional martial arts and wanted to take it seriously. I'm even considering enrolling in a real dojo but wanted to see what I could learn first."
He straightened a bit proudly. "Then you came to the right place. I'm Ron, vice president of the Taichi Club. Our president, Akira Miyamura, carries on the Miyamura family's Taichi legacy. His grandfather, Aiko Miyamura, was a direct disciple of the great Isamu Ito, a Taichi master from the capital."
Ron's introduction made me nod with admiration. I decided to press my luck. "Is President Akira around today? I'd love to meet him and maybe get a tour of his dojo."
Scratching his head, Ron replied, "He should be here already, usually is, but I guess he's running late today. In the meantime, why don't I walk you through what we offer and you can see if it's a good fit?"
Ron enthusiastically gave me a breakdown of the club's activities. Their focus was on physical and mental wellness, teaching traditional forms for demonstration and light sparring.
Being a school club, their priority was on promoting martial arts culture and preserving tradition, rather than real combat.
"To be honest, Ron, I'm mostly interested in practical martial arts—self-defense and real-world application. I know the club can only go so far, so does Miyamura dojo offer that kind of training?"
Ron nodded, looking slightly resigned. "I get it. We do teach some real techniques, but it's limited here. We focus on integrity and heritage, not just combat. The Sanda Club, though, has more freedom in their training."
He glanced up and waved. "Ah, there's President Akira now. Perfect timing. President! There's someone here interested in learning."
A tall, broad-shouldered guy walked in with an air of calm authority. Sword-like brows, clear eyes—a real classic look. Clad in a spotless white martial arts uniform, he strode over, exuding a quiet strength.
"Morning, Ron. Sorry I'm late, ran into some family problem on my way here. You must be interested in Taichi?" He extended a hand with a friendly smile, "I'm Akira Miyamura, club president. We welcome everyone, whether you're a beginner, enthusiast, or practitioner. What would you like to know?"
He was well-built but carried himself with a scholarly grace, giving off a good impression right away. Ron gave him a quick summary of my questions, and Akira's eyes lit up.
"So, you're interested in Miyamura-style Taichi? Good choice! I'm still a student myself, but I also teach at our family's dojo. Many Taichi Club members train at my family's school or in reputable dojos with skilled instructors."
Intrigued, I asked, "President Akira, I'm a complete novice, but I'm serious about learning. I won't lie, I've got resources, but no connections. I want to learn genuine internal martial arts, especially Taichi. Do you think your family's dojo would be a good fit for me?"
Akira nodded emphatically, "Absolutely! Ron may have mentioned, but our lineage traces directly back to Grandmaster Isamu Ito. My grandfather and uncles are known names in the martial arts community, and our dojo has been running for over thirty years, training countless disciples."
"We even collaborate with the provincial government, so we're officially certified. If you're serious, I can take you to our dojo after today's practice, show you around, and help you sign up."
"Ron," Akiea called to Ron, "bring Chozen over. Let's give Lucas a quick demonstration of some real Taichi techniques."
Soon, a broad-shouldered guy with a strong build approached, showing respect as he addressed Akira. "President, you need me to spar with you?"
Akiea chuckled, "No and Yes, if you don't mind. Lucas, this is Chozen. He joined our club in his freshman year and has been practicing for two years now. Last year, he officially became a disciple at my family's dojo. He's made great progress and is one of our advanced students. Chozen, this is Lucas, a senior considering joining our club."