Chapter 6: Reviewing My Strength
After the intense encounter in the school gym
Ain stepped out of the gym, his fists still tingling from the impact against the bag. The cool night air wrapped around him, a stark contrast to the warmth of his exertion. His mind was ablaze with questions and the faint echoes of Jack's mocking tone. The streets stretched before him, eerily quiet, as if the world itself held its breath, waiting for his next move.
Each step he took felt heavier than the last. The once blurred familiar streets of his past life memory now seemed drenched in a strange, haunting clarity. Buildings he had passed a thousand times felt sharper, more vivid, as if time had painted them with an extra layer of detail. He glanced around, half-expecting someone—or something—to emerge from the shadows.
The sound of his sneakers against the pavement was a steady rhythm, but his thoughts were anything but calm. His body, smaller and less conditioned, felt alien to him. He flexed his fingers, still trying to reconcile the sensation of his past self with the knowledge of his future. This body isn't ready yet, he thought grimly.
As he approached the house, Ain hesitated. The sight of it—unchanged, untouched—sent a pang through his chest. The peeling paint on the doorframe, the faint flicker of the porch light, and the old mailbox leaning slightly to one side—all of it was exactly as he remembered. His past self's life, frozen in time, waiting for him to reclaim it.
He stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking under his weight. His hand hovered over the doorknob, a flood of memories crashing down on him. This was the same door he'd slammed shut after he'd come home from the hell called school he was going to, the same door he'd leaned against on sleepless nights, and the same door he'd walked out of on the day everything fell apart.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.
Inside, the room greeted him with a suffocating familiarity. His old desk was cluttered with notebooks and papers, his bed unmade with a worn-out blanket draped over it, and the faint scent of stale coffee lingered in the air. Ain stepped in, closing the door behind him softly, as if afraid to disturb the ghosts of his past.
He dropped his bag to the floor and made his way to the mirror above the dresser. For a moment, he just stared at his reflection. The youthful face staring back at him was both comforting and unnerving. He ran a hand through his hair, marveling at how different it felt.
"You've got a second chance," he muttered to himself. His voice sounded strange, foreign, as if it belonged to someone else.
As he sat on the edge of his bed, Ain let out a long sigh. His encounter with Jack replayed in his mind, every word, every smirk etched into his memory. The feminine voice, mocking yet oddly supportive, lingered at the edges of his thoughts.
He clenched his fists.
This time, I'll be ready.
Lying back on the bed, Ain stared at the ceiling. The hum of his dormant powers whispered to him, faint but promising. He knew he had a long road ahead, but for the first time in years—or perhaps lifetimes—he felt a flicker of hope.
Tonight, he would rest. Tomorrow, he would start preparing for the battle to come.
The Next Day (Beginning of mid term break)
Ain yawned, leaning against the wall of his dimly lit room .His mind buzzed with plans. The Boxing System (echo of the fallen) he had been granted after time travelling was frustratingly stingy, In some moments the frustration turn into pure bliss when he remembered that this was only 0.00000000000000001% of its power, in the future wouldn't I be invicible. Ain surmised.
"What day is it again" I didn't use to plan my days in my previous life since it wasn't neccessary but now I should make this a habit.
Ain fishing out his phone out from his his pocket, he saw a familiar old pic he had as his lock screen and home screen wallpaper but now wasn't the time to reminisce.Shaking off the lingering thoughts he checked the calendar on his phone ( Saturday, October 7th 2024 Event = MID TERM BREAK untill October 13th 2024). Viewing this Ain started pondering the most efficent way to use this break
T/N: After minutes of pondering Ain decided to dedicate his break to grinding boxing Points and experience in order to catch up or surpass jack if possible who had more abilities that himself
After planning Ain proceeded to continue scrolling through the system interface before his expression turning grim
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Status Window
Name: Ain
Age: 14 (Middle Schooler)
Class: Time travelled Fighter
Status: Alive (for now)
Level: 1
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Attributes:
Strength: 5/15 (Still can't open jars without grunting.)
Speed: 6/15 (Can outrun Grandma—barely.)
Intelligence: 7/15 (Knows how to spell 'intelligence.')
Charm: 4/15 (Reason why he's single.)
Endurance: 5/15 (Could tap out in a pillow fight.)
Stamina: 5/15 (Panting like a dog after three minutes of ....)
Fighting Potential: 3/15 (Not for everyone.)
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Note: Since the host is 14, attributes are graded against the maximum attributes of a 14-year-old.
His eyes lingered on Charm, and he glanced down at his trousers to check. Thankfully, nothing seemed off. Rechecking his stats, Ain groaned.
"Four? I've seen toddlers with more charisma. System, you trying to tell me I'm ugly or something?"
The system, as always, didn't respond.
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Boxing System
Boxing Points: 5.5
Level: 1
Current Skills: None
Training Bonus: +0.5 Points per shadowboxing action
System Note:
< Legendary skills from past martial arts legends A Rank or above range from 500,000-1,000,000 boxing points
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Ain frowned. "At this rate, I'll need to throw at least 989,000 punches just to unlock someone like Mohammed Ali skills".
Scrolling further, he found skills available for purchase.
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Skills Available for Purchase
Beginner Boxing Techniques( F Rank): 3 Points
Guard Breaker Combo(E Rank): 5 Points
Basic Footwork: 2 Points
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Without hesitation, Ain dumped his points into Guard Breaker Combo.
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Skill Unlocked: Guard Breaker Combo(E Rank)!
Description: A three-hit combo designed to dismantle an opponent's guard.
Effectiveness: Dependent on strength, speed, and proper execution.
Note: Using this against a non-guarding opponent is just showing off.
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" E Rank Guard Breaker Combo, huh?" Ain muttered, shadowboxing the motions. The punches felt smooth—fluid—but his strength stat made them laughably weak.
"If my punches were any softer, I'd be a masseuse," he quipped. Still, it was progress.
He continued exploring the system, discovering a tab labeled Auxiliary Functions.
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Auxiliary Functions
1. Combat Tracker: Records and analyzes fight data for performance improvement.
2. Stamina Monitor: Tracks stamina consumption and recovery rates.
3. Motivational Quotes: Provides periodic inspirational messages. (Currently set to "sarcastic.")
4. Daily Challenges: Small tasks that reward Boxing Points.
5. Achievements: Milestones that grant additional rewards.
6. System shop: Can trade boxing points to buy skills of legendary boxers and some martial artist of all ages
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Curious, Ain tapped Motivational Quotes, and the system provided today's pearl of wisdom:
"They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. In your case, it starts with not tripping over your own shoelaces."
Ain stared at the screen, deadpan.
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Shaking his head, he checked out Daily Challenges:
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Daily Challenges (Updated Daily)
Shadowbox for 10 minutes: +1 Boxing Point
Dodge 10 consecutive attacks in training: +2 Boxing Points
Land a clean hit during sparring: +3 Boxing Points
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Finally, something achievable. "If I can dodge Jack's insults, I can dodge most punches," Ain muttered.
Ain then made his way to a gym...
approaching the entrance to the gym, Ain started feeling nervous he had never gone to a gym before even in his past life he only worked out using a workout app as such he felt intimidated by the the thought of entering in. The building was old but sturdy, its brick facade weathered by time. A faded sign above the double doors read "Vargas Training Center," with the letters barely clinging to their original black paint. It didn't look like much—certainly not the kind of place you'd expect to find anyone chasing glory—but it had a presence.
He hesitated at the door, staring at his faint reflection in the glass. This was it. He'd heard about Coach Vargas from whispers in the neighborhood—a man who trained anyone willing to step inside, no matter their background or skill level. No fees, no excuses. Just sweat, discipline, and grit.
Ain exhaled sharply, the breath fogging the glass. You can do this your 38 years mentally, he told himself. With a firm push, he stepped inside.
The scent of sweat and aged leather hit him first, mingling with the faint metallic tang of old weights. The sound of fists thudding against punching bags echoed through the space, mingling with the occasional bark of laughter or encouragement. The gym was alive, a far cry from the silence of his own struggles.
The place was cramped but functional. A row of punching bags hung from chains on one side, while mismatched weights and benches occupied the other. A few boxers sparred in a ring at the center, their movements precise and deliberate. Ain watched them for a moment, transfixed by the sheer intensity of their focus.
"Hey, kid!" a booming voice called out. "You lost, or are you here to train?"
Ain turned to see the source: a mountain of a man with bulging biceps and a tank top that seemed one stretch away from disintegrating. His bald head gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and his beard was a bushy testament to manliness.
"Name's Coach Vargas," the man said, crossing his arms. "I run this place. And you must be a new punching bag."
Ain smirked Faining confidence. "Punching bag? I was hoping for a sparring partner, but hey, everyone's gotta start somewhere."
Vargas raised an eyebrow. "Smart mouth on you, huh? We'll see how funny you are after a couple of rounds in the ring."
The Grind begins
Vargas took Ain to an empty corner where a heavy bag hung like an ominous challenge.
"Alright, kid. Let's see what you've got. Show me your punches."
Ain nodded and got into position, throwing a series of jabs and crosses at the bag. His movements were clunky, his punches lacking power, but he kept at it.
Vargas watched, unimpressed. "That's it? I've seen grannies slap mosquitoes with more force."
"In my defense," Ain panted, "those mosquitoes probably had higher stats than me."
The coach snorted. "Keep talking, kid. You'll learn soon enough that jokes don't win fights."
After numerous corrections and drills, Vargas led Ain to the ring for his first sparring session. Marco, an older lean teen with a cocky grin, stood waiting.
"This is Marco," Vargas said. "He's gonna help you get your feet wet."
Marco smirked. "Don't worry, kid. I'll go easy on you."
The bell rang, and Marco immediately closed the distance, throwing light jabs. Ain panicked, flailing his arms in an attempt to block, but Marco's punches slipped through with ease.
"Focus, kid!" Vargas shouted. "Watch his shoulders, not his hands!"
Ain adjusted, managing to dodge a few punches. Then he launched the Guard Breaker Combo.
The first punch connected with Marco's guard, forcing it down slightly. The second punch slipped through, grazing his chin. The third punch like a thrust hit Marco square in the chest, forcing him back.
Marco blinked, rubbing his chest. "Not bad, kid."
Ain grinned. "Thanks. I've been practicing thrus- I mean punching twice a day ."
Vargas stepped forward, raising an eyebrow at Ain's words but he maintained a composed expression. "Not bad for a first timer, kid. You've got some potential—just don't get cocky."
Ain nodded, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes. " Don't worry I won't.
T/N: After Sparring with Marco.....Coach Vargas spent hours correcting Ain's technique and building his foundation. By the time the sun set, Ain had made significant progress, despite his clumsy start. Vargas emphasized the importance of consistency and technique over strength alone, instilling in Ain the hard truth that becoming a true fighter requires more than just flashy moves—it's about discipline and resilience. The day's grind ended with Ain's body sore but his resolve stronger than ever.
End of Day One
As Ain left the gym, his body ached, but his spirit soared. He'd taken his first steps—small and clumsy, but steps nonetheless—toward becoming a fighter.
"Alright, Jack," he muttered. " Be a good boy while I grow stronger and enjoy your pretty little life untill I have the power to kill you."
The gym's lights flickered off behind him as he walked into the night, his determination burning brighter than ever.
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It was time to go to bed. Tomorrow would be another day of grinding, of training. He would prepare himself for what was coming.
With a final glance at his status window, Ain whispered, "Let's do this."
He closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally overtake him. He needed to sleep, to recharge.
But before that Ain had to take one more look a look at his stats he was trying to make that a habit in order to monitor his progress
He opened the system interface, scrolling past his familiar stats with tired eyes.
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Status Window
Name: Ain
Age: 14 (Middle Schooler)
Class: Time travelled Fighter
Status: Bearly awake
Martial level: 1
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Attributes:
Strength: 5.5/15 (Finally opened a jar… but it was empty.)
Speed: 6.5/15 (Can outrun Grandma easily —on her slower days almost catching up to grandpa.)
Intelligence: 7/15 (Still can't figure out why 'abbreviation' is such a long word.)
Charm: 4/15 (Your face needs more practice.)
Endurance: 6/15 (Can survive pillow fights, but just barely.)
Stamina: 6/15 (Breathing like a dog after five minutes now!)
Fighting Potential: 3.5/15 (The universe's way of saying, "Try harder.")
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Note: Attributes increase through consistent training and system rewards.
Seeing little or no change Ain took a nap
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