I didn't think packing for a training program could feel so heavy—not the bag, but the expectations that came with it. Five weeks and three days. It didn't sound like a long time, but the words from orientation echoed in my head: "This isn't just training—it's survival."
My system window floated to the side, displaying a timer ominously counting down to the end of the program. I ignored it, focusing instead on folding my last set of clothes.
Gale leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with a mix of amusement and concern. "You know," she started, "if you forget something, it's not like I can magically drop it off for you. Socks are non-negotiable, Ji."
"Socks, huh? What happens if I run out?" I shot her a grin.
"You'll suffer. And don't expect pity from me."
We both laughed, but there was an edge to her tone. Gale wasn't one for sappy goodbyes, but I knew this was her way of telling me to be careful.
When we reached the training center, her usual sharp wit softened. "Listen, Ji. Just… don't overdo it, okay? You've got nothing to prove."
"I know," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I'll be fine."
The look in her eyes lingered with me long after I walked through the gates.
---
The training center loomed before me, a sprawling complex of glass, steel, and concrete that somehow managed to look both imposing and efficient. The air buzzed with energy—nervous conversations, instructors barking orders, and the occasional clink of weapons being handled too casually by rookies.
Before I could take it all in, a familiar voice cut through the chaos.
"Zeus!"
I turned to see Gabriel Cruz weaving through the crowd with his usual easygoing grin plastered on his face. He stopped in front of me, hands on his hips. "Didn't think you'd show up."
"I could say the same about you," I replied, smirking. "Thought you'd be off somewhere more... exclusive."
Gabriel laughed, a genuine sound that seemed to draw the attention of nearby trainees. "And miss this opportunity? Please. My family may have resources, but they can't offer me a chance to spar with you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Spar with me? You're assuming I'll let you win."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he said, mock-serious. "But I've heard rumors. You're the guy to watch out for. Some people even think you might already be top two material."
I rolled my eyes. "Rumors get people killed, Cruz."
"And sometimes, they make legends."
Before I could respond, the blare of a whistle echoed across the courtyard, signaling us to gather in the main hall.
"Guess it's time to get serious," Gabriel said, clapping me on the shoulder.
"Guess so," I replied, following the flow of trainees into the building.
---
The main hall was a cavernous space filled with rows of chairs that quickly filled with the restless shuffle of trainees. At the front stood two instructors, their authoritative presence silencing the chatter almost instantly.
Instructor Marco was the first to speak, his voice sharp and deliberate. "Welcome to the Hunter Association's training center. For the next five weeks and three days, this will be your home, your battleground, and your proving ground."
He let that sink in before continuing. "This program isn't about participation. It's about survival. At the end of this training, the top two trainees will represent the Luzon region in an excursion to investigate a suspected Malice Zone. The stakes are real. If you don't take this seriously, you're wasting everyone's time."
A ripple of unease passed through the room. Even Gabriel, who had been casually leaning back, straightened in his seat.
Instructor Elena stepped forward, her eyes scanning the room with a piercing gaze. "Your training will be divided into several components: physical conditioning, combat theory, survival theory, and practical application of both. You'll also be living on base for the duration of the program. Weekly visitor days are allowed, but your focus must remain on your training."
The instructors alternated as they outlined the schedule:
Physical Conditioning
"Daily," Marco emphasized. "This is non-negotiable. You'll report to the gym instructor, who will monitor your progress. Your endurance, strength, and flexibility will be pushed to their limits. No exceptions."
Combat Theory
Marco gestured to a pair of sparring sticks on the table. "We'll focus on Kali and Silat—close-quarters combat techniques that prioritize efficiency and adaptability. These arts are designed for survival, not showmanship."
Survival Theory
Elena took over, her tone calm but firm. "Navigation, resource management, and emergency first aid will be the core of this class. These aren't skills you can afford to overlook. The Malice Zones are unforgiving. If you can't adapt, you won't last."
Simulated Malice Zones
The room darkened as a holographic display filled the space, showing twisted landscapes teeming with danger. Elena's voice carried over the eerie projection. "These simulations are designed to replicate real-world scenarios. They'll test everything you've learned—and everything you think you know."
I felt a chill run down my spine as the projection dissolved, leaving the room in silence.
---
By the time we reached the dormitory area, the trainees were visibly more subdued. The tension from the orientation hung heavy in the air, and I could see the gears turning in everyone's heads as they processed the enormity of what lay ahead.
Gabriel and I were assigned to the same room, along with a quiet, wiry trainee named Darren Vargas. He gave a polite nod as we entered but didn't say much beyond that.
Gabriel dropped his bag onto the nearest bunk with an exaggerated sigh. "Home sweet home, huh?"
"Feels more like a prison," I muttered, tossing my own bag onto a bunk.
Darren glanced up from unpacking, his expression neutral. "Could be worse. At least they're not making us sleep in the simulation rooms."
Gabriel snorted. "Yeah, because nothing says 'restful sleep' like holographic Malice monsters trying to kill you."
Despite the levity, I could sense the tension in the room. We were strangers, thrown together under intense circumstances, and it was clear that none of us fully trusted each other yet.
Gabriel, ever the social butterfly, tried to bridge the gap. "So, Darren, what's your story? Got any special tricks up your sleeve?"
Darren hesitated, his eyes flicking to me before settling on Gabriel. "Not much to tell. I'm just here to learn."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he turned to me. "And you, Zeus? Got any secret weapons you're planning to unleash during training?"
I smirked. "Wouldn't be much of a secret if I told you, would it?"
That earned a laugh, and for a brief moment, the tension eased.
As I finished unpacking, I couldn't help but wonder how this dynamic would play out over the next few weeks. We were all here for the same reason, but only two of us would make the cut.
And I had no intention of being left behind.
---
Later that night, I lay in bed, drowsiness finally took over after a while of exploring the System interface hovering above me. A new notification blinked into view:
Mission Preparation Progress: 20%.
Below it were two words: Side Quests. I didn't bother opening them. Not yet.
The faint hum of Gabriel's snoring filled the room as Darren shifted quietly in his bunk. I closed my eyes, letting the tension seep out of my body.
Five weeks. Three days. Let's see if I'm ready for this.
---