Sumir drifted into a deep sleep, the lingering pleasure lulling him into unconsciousness.
Hours later, he awoke, finding the room empty.
This was nothing new to Sumir. Despite Medis's tenderness and submission during their intimate moments, he knew it was simply her personal preference—her kink, if you will—for such gentle and harmonious interactions.
In reality, Medis felt little to nothing for him.
More than once, as he lay groggy and half-asleep after their encounters, Sumir had caught glimpses of her carefully concealed indifference. The gentle expression she wore during their time together would fade away, replaced by a look of cold detachment.
Their relationship was nothing more than a transaction.
From the few cryptic remarks she had made, Sumir had pieced together a vague understanding of her situation. Medis, with her unique constitution, required fluids from men who met specific criteria—matching a certain zodiac sign, birthplace, and blood type—to alleviate some condition in her body.
That was the reason she had come to New Los Angeles.
Sumir was lucky. Not only had he been selected by Medis and effectively "kept" by her, but she had never been in a relationship or slept with anyone before. In a way, Sumir felt like he'd hit the jackpot.
But none of that changed the fact that, to Medis, he was nothing more than a tool.
Despite her outwardly gentle demeanor, Medis had never offered him anything beyond the single monthly dose of Physical Enhancement Diluent they had agreed upon.
And Sumir had never dared to ask her for help with something like his student loan debts.
He knows that would be asking for humiliation.
If he dared to make such a request, Medis would likely wave him off with a serene smile. Shortly after, someone from the Lone Wolf Club—the private organization she was associated with—would ensure he was permanently "taken care of."
Sumir wasn't even a Player. He was just a "pariah".
How dare he make any demands? There were plenty of "pariahs" like him.
Even if Medis sought a new "kept man." he would still need to meet her strict criteria. And in New Los Angeles, there were plenty of such men to choose from.
"I didn't have anything of value before—nothing worth investing in." Sumir thought, shaking his head.
But he wasn't bitter.
"Now, though… with the Physical Crystal enhancing my abilities, I might finally have some leverage—something that could make me stand out."
Deep in thought, Sumir left the room and made his way downstairs. Passing through the club's first floor, he traversed a hallway lined with crimson wallpaper and entered a spacious training facility.
The Lone Wolf Club spared no expense in equipping its members with tools to evaluate their physical attributes.
Punching strength machines, pendulums to test impact resistance, weightlifting stations—they had it all.
The strength tester Sumir had used at the training academy was a basic device that only measured raw punching power. It couldn't provide an accurate Physical attribute value.
The Physical stat—a core foundational attribute—was a composite of Strength, Agility, and Constitution. Achieving one full Physical point meant excelling in all three of these aspects simultaneously.
This was precisely why becoming a reserve Player was so difficult.
It wasn't enough to focus solely on strength; well-rounded development was required.
And only those who had reached reserve Player status and were between the ages of 18 and 23 could register for the Trials, a rite of passage offering a chance to become an official Player.
Additionally, there was a significant difference between an 18-year-old reserve Player and a 23-year-old one. The younger a candidate, the higher their innate potential—and the greater their likelihood of both passing the Trials and awakening a special talent during the process.
Sumir's 18th birthday was exactly one month away, coinciding with the upcoming Official Player Trials.
In other words, if Sumir could use the Synthesis Bar to reach one full Physical point within the next month, he would be entering the Trials at the optimal age of 18—his chances of success would skyrocket!
However, before awakening the Synthesis Bar, Sumir's "uniqueness" had been more of a burden than a blessing.
As an orphan, he was sent to a training institution the moment he came of age, with the expectation that he would take the Player Trials as soon as he turned 18.
For others, their birthdays often fell months after the Trials, giving them a crucial extra year to train before attempting the exam.
But Sumir's birthday was inconveniently aligned with the Trials. This left him with the shortest preparation period possible.
Of course, for most of the orphans in his institution, even a few extra months of training wouldn't have made a difference. Achieving one full Physical point by 18 was simply out of reach for them. Without it, passing the Trials was impossible.
In truth, being funneled into training institutions was nothing short of a death sentence. Those forced into these programs were practically guaranteed to fail, leaving them with no way to repay their student debts. They were destined to become cannon fodder for the major guilds.
Sumir shook his head, dispelling these bleak thoughts.
This time, here at the club, he was determined to utilize every available facility and thoroughly test his attributes.
Stepping purposefully to a massive pressure valve machine, Sumir took a deep breath.
This was a strength-testing device. If he could push the valve forward by just one meter, it would confirm that his strength had reached one ton—one full Strength point!
Sumir focused, channeling all his energy...
Meanwhile, in the center of the training room, near a sparring ring, a muscular man caught sight of Sumir's figure. His eyes lit up.
It was Corning, the same man who had taunted Sumir earlier.
Moments ago, Corning had been showing off, overpowering three so-called "strong contenders" with 0.6 Physical scores in a bid to secure a coveted support role for Anderson.
Now, he was lounging with a group of cronies, boasting about his earlier feats.
Noticing Corning's sudden change in expression as he stared at Sumir, one of his companions smirked and immediately began to egg him on.
"Hey Corning, didn't you say you were looking for a chance to get that kid Sumir kicked out?"
"Yeah! Seriously, how did someone like him catch Medis's eye? If you ask me, only a real man like you, Corning, could properly serve someone as important as Lady Medis!"
"And now he's using the testing equipment? Does he even deserve that?"
...
The group exchanged knowing glances, smirking as if they were watching a prelude to a good show.
It wasn't that they genuinely cared about Corning. In fact, there was a trace of mockery in their eyes.
Medis? Corning actually dared to dream?
Did he even know how the last owner of the Lone Wolf Club had met their end?
Oh, right—he didn't. He was too new to have heard the stories.
That owner had been a full-fledged Player, yet his death had been beyond miserable. His screams had echoed for three days and nights.
Sumir being noticed by Medis…
And Corning thought that was some kind of blessing? What a joke.
Still, they didn't mind watching Corning stir up trouble for Sumir. If he actually went through with it, at least there'd be some entertainment. With a little luck, they might even get rid of two competitors for the logistics team in one go.
"You're right." Corning said with a sneer. "That runt has had it too easy for too long."
"Time to show him how the weak should live."
Cracking his knuckles with a loud pop-pop, Corning's grin grew feral.
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
He deliberately slowed his steps, drawing attention as he approached Sumir.
Stopping just a pace away, Corning stared disdainfully at the young man, watching his every movement with thinly veiled contempt.
Sumir placed both hands firmly on the red button of the pressure valve, took a deep breath, and shoved with all his might.
BOOM!!
A deafening sound echoed through the room. Corning staggered back half a step, his eyes wide with disbelief. The massive pressure valve had been pushed to its limit, reaching the very edge of Sumir's extended arms!
The screen above the valve lit up, and a golden number flashed brightly:
"Congratulations! Push force: 1 ton! You have achieved 1 point in Strength!"
Corning stood frozen in shock.
One ton?
Corning's strength was only 600 kilograms at best! Even Anderson, the pride of the club, had only just managed to hit the one-ton benchmark recently!
When did Sumir become this strong?!
Clang!
Sumir slowly retracted his arms, stepping back as the valve reset itself. His gaze remained fixed on the screen, a mixture of amazement and delight spreading across his face.
Holy crap!
The effect of the physical crystal is this insane?!
He had completely underestimated the power of the Synthesis Bar. Its ability to enhance resources was far beyond anything he had imagined.
For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in his success, grinning like a fool.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, Sumir noticed someone standing nearby—a frozen, slack-jawed Corning.
Frowning, Sumir turned to face him.
"What do you want?" he asked sharply.
The question snapped Corning out of his stupor. He blinked rapidly, glancing between the glowing screen and Sumir's calm expression.
Fear flickered in his eyes.
Corning forced a strained smile. "Nothing, just watching."
His broad, brutish face twisted into an awkward expression that looked utterly ridiculous. Despite his usual bluster, he didn't dare make a sound.
As he spoke, Corning obediently stepped aside, clearing the path for Sumir.
Corning's temper might have been explosive, but he wasn't stupid.
The scene he had just witnessed was incredible, but there was no way he could doubt the validity of Sumir's "1 point in Strength" achievement. The club's testing equipment was state-of-the-art, its accuracy beyond question.
In that moment, any thought of teaching Sumir a lesson vanished. He knew full well that Sumir could now crush him with a single punch.
"Excuse me."
Sumir's voice was calm, devoid of interest in whatever Corning was thinking. Without breaking stride, he brushed past him and headed toward the next testing room.
He still needed to evaluate his physical and agility attributes.
However, as soon as Sumir reached a blind corner out of everyone's view, he couldn't hold back any longer.
"Take off!!"
He shouted in his mind, punching the air in sheer excitement.
Sumir had never experienced such an immense boost in power before. He had severely underestimated the effects of the physical crystal, assuming it would only add two or three hundred kilograms of force while leaving the increases to his constitution and agility unclear.
By his own calculations, he had expected at most a 0.3 boost to his physical attribute.
The reality?
A single physical crystal had completely changed his destiny!