Minato leaned back in his office chair, adjusting it with a deliberate motion as silence filled the room. After a brief pause, he spoke, his voice steady but commanding.
"Narberal. Give me your report."
Narberal, standing at attention, gave a slight bow before speaking.
"As you wish, Minato-san."
---
Meanwhile, Bruce was sitting on the edge of his large bed, his gaze drifting aimlessly around the lavish room.
Belita, standing near the door, spoke with her usual polite demeanor.
"Young master, I'll be leaving now. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call for me."
Bruce sighed, a slight frown crossing his face.
"Alright… but can't you drop the formalities already? I mean, we're practically childhood friends."
Belita hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.
"I'm sorry, young master, but the formalities are necessary for a proper master and maid relationship."
Bruce tilted his head, curious.
"According to what you said, you've known me since I was a kid, right?"
"Of course," Belita replied. "Back then, I was still very young and a maid in training, while my mother served as the head maid for Tora-san. Naturally, we became close."
"Oh, I see…" Bruce said, nodding slightly. "But… what about your mother?"
Belita's expression softened, tinged with sadness.
"Unfortunately, my mother passed away on duty a few years ago."
Bruce winced, guilt flashing across his face.
"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have asked."
Belita smiled faintly, shaking her head.
"It's alright, young master. It is the duty of an exclusive maid to protect her master with her life. My mother fulfilled her duty, and when the time comes, I plan to do the same."
With that, she gave a graceful bow and quietly left the room.
Bruce leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ornate ceiling.
"Duty, huh…" he murmured, his thoughts swirling. He sighed heavily, rolling over.
"I'm hungry."
---
Back in the office, the atmosphere was tense. Minato tapped his fingers on the desk, deep in thought, while Narberal stood nearby.
"So, in short, the elders have begun to make their move," Minato said, breaking the silence.
Narberal nodded. "Yes."
Minato's gaze sharpened.
"Do they know Bruce is back?"
"No," Narberal replied firmly.
Minato leaned forward, his expression calculating.
"Inform them."
Narberal bowed. "Understood."
Minato sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Have the Fujimoto family made a move yet?"
"We've noticed signs of movement among their spies," Narberal reported, her tone cautious. "But nothing has been confirmed yet."
Minato let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair.
"This is going to be troublesome…"
---
**Morning Routine**
The soft rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtains as Belita gently pulled them open. Bruce stirred, slowly waking from his slumber.
"Good morning, young master," Belita greeted with a warm smile.
Bruce yawned loudly, stretching his arms above his head. "Good morning, Bell," he replied groggily.
Belita chuckled lightly. "It seems young master Bruce still isn't a morning person, is he?"
With a lazy movement, Bruce rose from the bed, his eyes half-closed. "Nope."
"Come on… Go and freshen up. Breakfast is ready," Belita encouraged, her tone both gentle and commanding.
As Bruce made his way to the dining area, the aroma of freshly prepared Japanese cuisine wafted through the air. His mouth watered at the sight of a beautifully arranged breakfast spread, featuring **Tamago Kake Gohan** (raw egg over rice), **Miso Soup**, **Grilled Salmon**, and an assortment of **Tsukemono** (pickled vegetables).
"Whoa…" Bruce exclaimed, his eyes wide with delight.
Without hesitation, he dove into the meal, ravenously devouring each dish. The flavors were rich and satisfying, making his hunger quickly subside.
---
**Training in the Dojo**
After breakfast, Minato called out to Bruce. "Once you're done, join me outside," he said with a smirk. "For the next year, I'll make sure to beat you up properly."
Bruce grinned, wiping his mouth. "Alright," he replied, following Minato to the dojo.
The dojo was a spacious, open area adorned with traditional tatami mats and wooden training equipment. The serene environment contrasted sharply with the intensity of their upcoming training session.
Minato stood confidently in the center, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he lit it with practiced ease. "Since you haven't awakened your stigma yet, all I'll be teaching you is how to throw punches and build your body," he announced, taking a firm stance. "Now, come at me."
Bruce nodded, determination shining in his eyes. He launched himself forward, throwing a powerful fist into the air. Minato deftly dodged, their movements swift and precise as they exchanged a flurry of punches. The sound of their strikes echoed through the dojo until Bruce, exhausted from the intense session, finally collapsed onto the mat.
"Don't worry," Minato said calmly, observing Bruce's state. "You're an anomaly. This much wouldn't kill you."
Bruce slowly opened his eyes, seeing Belita kneel beside him, concern etched on her face. "You lost," she stated bluntly.
"I'm hungry," Bruce groaned, rubbing his temples.
Belita helped him to his feet. "Get up… Let's go inside."
Bruce looked around, still disoriented. "Alright… How long was I out?"
"For about two hours," Belita replied softly.
"And you sat beside me through that?" Bruce questioned, a hint of frustration in his voice.
Belita smiled gently, her eyes sincere. "It's my job as your exclusive maid to stand by my master."
Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get the feeling that we'll be stuck together for a long time."
"That's a given, isn't it?" Belita responded with a reassuring nod.
"Then I'll be in your care," Bruce agreed, a sense of resignation in his tone.
"Yes, I'll do my best," Belita promised, her smile warm and comforting.
---
As the day progressed, Bruce settled into his new environment with the help of Belita. The mansion, with its blend of traditional Japanese architecture and modern amenities, was both impressive and intimidating. Each room was meticulously maintained, showcasing the Hanma family's legacy.
Belita guided Bruce through the morning routine, ensuring he felt comfortable and cared for despite his lingering amnesia. Their interactions, though formal, began to build a sense of trust and camaraderie between them.
Later that afternoon, Bruce found himself reflecting on the day's events. The revelation of his lineage and the responsibilities that came with it weighed heavily on him. Yet, with Belita by his side and Minato's training ahead, he felt a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.
As the sun set behind the towering mountains, casting long shadows over the mansion, Bruce couldn't help but wonder what challenges awaited him in this new chapter of his life.
---
The room was dimly lit, casting shadows over the traditional Japanese décor. An elder sat cross-legged on a raised platform, his black montsuki adorned with an intricate family crest. His wrinkled face twisted into a scowl, his sharp gaze piercing through the faint glow of the lanterns.
In contrast, the figure standing before him exuded an eerie beauty. Narberal, dressed immaculately in her maid outfit, stood with poise. Her thin, long white hair shimmered faintly in the low light, framing jet-black eyelashes that only added to her otherworldly allure.
"So, you're saying the direct heir of the Hanma bloodline is back?" Elder Kozuki's voice was low and forceful, his tone dripping with anger.
"Yes," Narberal replied bluntly, her voice devoid of emotion.
Kozuki's scowl deepened as he clenched his fist. "Even if he's stricken with anemia, a descendant of that monster is still a threat! If not for that damned Tora Hanma and his scheming disciple Minato, we—the branch families—could have had our chance at the throne!"
His gnarled fingers tugged at his long white beard as a sinister grin began to spread across his face. "But... perhaps we can use his weakness to our advantage." His tone turned thoughtful as he leaned forward slightly. "Spread the word: the yearly Sky Summit will be hosted next year. All heirs of the Hanma family are required to attend—no exceptions."
Narberal bowed slightly. "Understood."
The elder's twisted grin returned, his voice dropping into a more perverse tone. "Don't worry. Once I claim my rightful place, I'll make sure to put your excellent body to good use. That's why I raised you, after all."
Narberal's gaze darkened, her calm demeanor never wavering. "A word of advice for you, Elder Kozuki: 'A snake that dares to climb a mountain to strike an eagle only guarantees its own fall to the rocks below.'"
Kozuki's expression contorted with fury. "How dare a lowly maid threaten me!"
With a crackle of energy, his left hand was engulfed in a sinister green aura tinged with black. Without hesitation, he launched the energy toward Narberal, aiming directly at her chest.
Before the attack could land, a metallic flash illuminated the room. A split second later, his left hand was severed cleanly from his arm, blood splattering onto the tatami mat. Narberal stood motionless, her katana gleaming faintly in the dim light.
"How dare you..." Narberal's voice was soft, yet her words carried a terrifying weight. "How dare you lay such filthy eyes on a body I've nurtured exclusively for Minato-san."
Her expression remained serene, but the underlying fury was palpable as she took a step closer to the groaning elder.
"The next time you try that..." Her voice dropped even lower. "I will kill you."
With that, she sheathed her katana in one fluid motion and strode out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence.
Kozuki, still writhing on the floor, gasped for air as he clutched his severed arm. With trembling fingers, he reattached his hand using stigma energy, his labored breaths soon giving way to a sinister chuckle.
"Not even intermediate-level stigma energy could touch her... Truly terrifying, my 'adopted daughter.'" His laughter grew louder, the sound echoing off the walls.
"But no matter. This changes nothing. The game is on, Minato Hanma. It's a good thing I found out in time. Now, I can crush the insect before he grows wings."
---
At the Hanma mansion, Minato exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression calm but contemplative. He stubbed his cigarette into a polished ashtray, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Is probably what he's thinking..." he muttered to himself.
Leaning forward, he moved a chess piece on the board before him, placing the opposing king in checkmate.
"But in the end, Kozuki's just another stepping stone for Bruce's rise to triumph. This is how you'd want it, right, Tora-san?"
Minato leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting to the window. The setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow, a stark contrast to the tense air that lingered.
---
The gentle knock on the door signaled the arrival of the evening's meal. A maid stepped inside with practiced grace.
"Master Minato, the dinner is ready," she announced with a slight bow.
Minato nodded, rising from his seat. "Alright."
At the dining table, Bruce was already devouring the food like a man starved. Mouthwatering aromas filled the air, the centerpiece being a steaming bowl of *Yakiniku-don*, a Japanese dish of grilled, juicy cuts of meat served atop fluffy rice, accompanied by savory miso soup and a side of pickled vegetables.
"Bruce," Minato called out.
With a mouthful of meat, Bruce barely managed a blunt, "What?"
"We'll be raiding a few dungeons tomorrow, so get ready."
Bruce waved his hand dismissively, shoving another piece of meat into his mouth. "Alright, alright."
---
The next day, Bruce found himself in a dungeon, his surroundings cloaked in oppressive darkness. The air was damp, and every sound echoed ominously off the cold, stone walls.
"So, this is what he meant by 'we,'" Bruce muttered, his exhaustion evident as he struggled to maintain his footing. His light black hair, tousled and dynamic, seemed to move with a life of its own, as if caught in a constant breeze. Each strand accentuated the layered style, giving him an almost storm-like aura. Even in this desolate environment, his presence was commanding, alive with a raw intensity.
As the reality of his situation sunk in, Bruce groaned in frustration. "A dungeon... no food, no water, no weapons... and all he gave me were these stupid gloves."
---
*Flashback*
Minato had handed him a pair of dull, unimpressive gloves.
"These are called emitter gloves," Minato explained casually, puffing on a cigarette. "They're imbued with the blacksmith's stigma. Granted, this particular pair is low-quality—trash, really—but it should help you kill a few monsters."
Bruce had stared at the gloves in disbelief. "Trash? Great... just great."
*End of Flashback*
---
Ruffling his hair in frustration, Bruce sighed heavily. His hair caught the dim light of the dungeon, the movement of each strand reflecting his growing irritation. "What a pain," he muttered, as his stomach growled loudly.
"I'm hungry," he grumbled, scanning the area.
Spotting a lone goblin lurking in the shadows, Bruce's eyes lit up with a glint of primal hunger. His lips curled into a grin as he licked them. "Meat!"
The goblin froze for a moment, sensing imminent danger, before turning on its heels and fleeing for its life.
"Get back here, meat!" Bruce yelled, bolting after it with surprising speed.
---
Above ground, Minato and Belita stood side by side, observing the dungeon's entrance.
"Are you worried about him?" Minato asked, glancing down at Belita.
Belita nodded softly. "Mmn." She squatted on the ground, her expression clouded with concern.
Minato chuckled lightly. "Don't worry. A true descendant of the Hanma family doesn't die easily."
Belita's gaze hardened. "I hope so. Because if he does... I'd rather kill him myself."
---
Back in the dungeon, Bruce finally caught up to the goblin, pinning it down with a triumphant grin. "Finally... got the meat," he murmured, salivating at the thought of his soon-to-be meal.
But as he prepared to enjoy his prize, a chilling sensation ran down his spine. He turned, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, only to see dozens of glowing red eyes staring back at him from the shadows.
A sinister grin spread across his face. "Ooooh, this is gonna be good."
With an almost feral glee, Bruce launched himself into the fray, punching goblins left and right with raw power. The emitter gloves glowed faintly with every strike, emitting bursts of energy that sent the smaller goblins flying.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him rumbled. A massive, 12-foot figure emerged from the darkness—a towering ogre, its muscles rippling with sheer power. Its sharp, mammoth-like teeth glinted menacingly under the faint dungeon light.
Bruce's grin widened, his excitement palpable. "So, you're the boss."
The ogre let out an earth-shaking roar, its voice echoing through the cavern.
"Goooood," Bruce said, cracking his knuckles. "That means even bigger meat."
With that, he leaped into the air, his fist glowing as it arced toward the monstrous ogre.
Bruce was seen dragging the massive ogre's body out of the dungeon, his face beaming with pride. The sheer weight of the creature left a trail in the dirt as he struggled forward.
"Minato! I got the biggest meat!" Bruce exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
Belita, who had been waiting anxiously near the dungeon gate, suddenly leapt toward him and wrapped him in a tight hug. Her expression, usually composed, betrayed a flicker of emotion as a single tear escaped her eye.
"Belita… Were you crying?" Bruce asked, tilting his head in surprise.
Belita quickly composed herself, her tone blunt as she replied, "Don't ruin this for me, Bruce."
Bruce smirked mischievously. "Oh, so now we drop the formalities?"
Minato, leaning casually against a nearby tree, exhaled a stream of smoke. "If you're both done getting cuddly, let's move. We've got a few more dungeons to raid today." He smirked, flicking ash from his cigarette before extinguishing it.
The Months That Followed
The following months became a blur of relentless training, dungeon raids, and grueling spars under Minato's watchful eye. Bruce's days followed a strict routine, each one more arduous than the last.
Training Routine
Minato's body-training regimen was modeled after a standard boxer's training but pushed to its absolute limits.
- Morning Runs: Each day began with a 10-kilometer uphill run through the rugged terrain surrounding Hanma Mountain. Minato insisted on this to build Bruce's stamina and leg strength.
- Strength Training: The afternoons were reserved for weightlifting and bodyweight exercises. Minato made Bruce carry heavy logs, flip massive stones, and perform countless push-ups and pull-ups.
- Combat Drills: Every evening, Minato introduced Bruce to sparring sessions that combined hand-to-hand combat with evasive maneuvers. Though Bruce often ended up bruised and battered, each session sharpened his instincts and improved his reflexes.
"Your punches are sloppy!" Minato barked during one of their sparring sessions. "Again!"
Bruce, drenched in sweat, threw another punch. Minato dodged effortlessly and countered with a light jab that sent Bruce sprawling to the ground.
"Learn to keep your guard up," Minato said, offering Bruce a hand. "You're not fighting to survive—you're fighting to win."
Despite the harshness, Bruce noticed himself improving. Each spar taught him something new, and even Minato acknowledged his growing strength in subtle ways.
Dungeon Raids
Dungeon raids became a near-daily activity. Some dungeons were simple, containing only low-level monsters, while others forced Bruce to face enormous creatures, like the ogre. Though Minato usually observed from a distance, he always stepped in if things got too dangerous.
"Remember, Bruce," Minato once said as Bruce faced a pack of goblins. "A true Hanma never backs down. But knowing when to retreat isn't cowardice—it's strategy."
Escaping Training
On some days, Bruce's rebellious streak got the better of him. He occasionally slipped away from training, hiding in the forest or pretending to be ill. But Minato always found him.
"You think you can skip training?" Minato said once, dragging Bruce out of his hiding spot. "Fine. We'll double your regimen tomorrow."
Belita often brought meals to Bruce during his training. Her presence became a source of comfort for him, even during the most grueling days.
"Master Minato ended up making Bruce raid dungeons all year long," Belita once remarked to herself while cleaning the kitchen. "If he isn't raiding dungeons, he's sparring or going through an arduous training routine. Just like Tora-san used to."
Belita packed Bruce's lunch neatly, grabbing a basket laden with freshly cooked food.
"Ryo-san," she called, "I'm done with the dishes. I'll take Bruce's lunch to him."
Ryo nodded. "Alright, but hurry up. You know how young master Bruce gets when he's hungry."
Belita rushed out of the kitchen, weaving through the halls, only to bump into Ren, a messenger from the branch family.