A warm surge rushed down from Liam's head, flooding his entire body in seconds.
He squinted slightly and took a deep breath, worried that if he exhaled too hard, it might come out as a moan.
His breath felt light. His vision sharpened.
Clenching his fists, he had the odd sense that even his strength had grown.
No—maybe not so odd. A healthy body was the foundation for real power, after all.
Feeling rejuvenated, Liam doubled down on grinding EXP.
The professor adjusted his glasses, glancing at his suddenly hyper-focused student with mild suspicion.
In the dining hall during lunch, Zoe Carter, shoulder-length hair framing her pretty, annoyed face, took a vicious bite of her fried chicken and mumbled through a mouthful.
"That jerk Zeke Matthews seriously needs to chill. What kind of big man picks on someone just for being weaker?"
Liam, sitting across from her, watched her puffed-up cheeks with calm amusement.
"It's not like he's wrong. I'm not exactly a top performer."
Truth be told, Liam had no idea why Zeke had it out for him specifically.
Zeke was arrogant, sure—but he didn't usually go out of his way to pick on people. And Liam wasn't even the worst-ranked student in the class.
Still, Zeke had made a point of singling him out since day one.
"You ranked third in the entrance trials, remember? If it weren't for your health…"
Zoe paused, casting a sidelong glance at him. Seeing his expression unchanged, she went on:
"If you hadn't started fainting all the time, he wouldn't be anywhere near your level."
Zoe and Liam had grown up in the same neighborhood. Their families were close, and the two of them had been practically inseparable since they were kids—like siblings in all but name.
Before college, Liam had always looked out for Zoe. Now the roles were reversed.
"Yo—what a surprise. The duo's eating together again."
A smug voice rang out behind them. Liam saw Zoe's smile instantly vanish into a scowl as she rolled her eyes hard enough to strain a muscle.
He turned and saw a lanky guy approaching.
He wasn't thin—just tall. Nearly 6'5", with narrow features that always looked faintly sneering, like he was permanently unimpressed with the world.
This was Owen Yu, ranked 17th in class, and Zeke's loyal sidekick.
Owen sauntered over, glanced at their trays with disdain, and launched into his usual passive-aggressive routine.
"Zoe, you hang around trash long enough, don't be surprised if you start smelling like it."
Zoe looked up, her tone cool and cutting.
"Says the guy who follows a bigger piece of trash around all day."
"You little—"
Owen bit his tongue. Then he turned his venom back toward Liam.
"Hey loser, you know you're dragging her down, right? Maybe it's time to stop being selfish and vanish."
Liam looked at him, more amused than annoyed. Honestly, he didn't care much about Owen.
Owen only hated him because of Zoe—he'd been nursing an unspoken crush on her since freshman year. Watching her hang out with Liam daily must've eaten him alive.
Liam took a sip of soup and smiled faintly.
"I don't think I'm holding her back."
"Hah—what kind of fantasy world are you living in?"
Owen laughed, theatrically poking his ear as if he'd misheard.
"You cling to her every sparring session, hoping she'll go easy on you. Pathetic."
Then he reached out and grabbed Liam by the collar.
"Why don't we have a little match this afternoon? Let's see just how useless you really are."
"Owen! Let go of him!"
Zoe stood up, her voice sharp as she slammed her hands on the table. Heads turned. Students nearby began watching the commotion with interest.
Liam stood as well. Owen was taller by a couple of inches, but Liam didn't flinch.
"Sure. Let's spar this afternoon."
"Liam—" Zoe tried to stop him, but he raised a hand, gently cutting her off. She stood there, cheeks flushed with worry.
Owen was clearly caught off guard. For a second, he just blinked. Then his face twisted into a cruel smile.
"It's a deal, punk. Just don't come crawling on your knees, begging for mercy."
"You're not really worth begging to."
Liam calmly pried Owen's hand off his shirt and straightened his clothes.
"You got guts," Owen sneered, giving him a parting glare before storming out.
As soon as he was gone, Zoe practically leapt to Liam's side.
"Liam! What the hell was that? You know how vicious he gets!"
She grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him so hard he nearly saw stars.
"He won't hold back! You've gone nuts!"
"Okay, okay—stop shaking me!"
He caught her hands and tried to steady her. His brain felt like it had been tossed in a blender.
"Relax. It's not like I'm going to lose that badly."
"Not that badly?! Liam, the guy can hit with over 750 kilos of force! His close-combat grades are passing—I don't even know if I could beat him!"
Zoe stared at him, cheeks puffed out with frustration.
Liam chuckled, reaching out to stretch her face into a lopsided smile.
"My headaches are gone. I've gotten a lot stronger."
She blinked at him, skeptical.
"For real? You sure you're not just… imagining it? And even if you are better, you can't just magically get stronger overnight."
"Don't worry. I'll be fine. At the very least, I won't embarrass myself."
He gave her a light pat on the head and went back to eating.
That was a lie.
He wasn't planning to just hold his own.
He planned to win.
The academy offered free housing—two students per dorm. Perfect for rest between training blocks.
Liam's roommate, Todd Rivera, was a quiet, introverted guy from a different class. They got along well enough.
After a quick greeting, Liam sat cross-legged on his bed.
He'd touched Owen's arm during the confrontation and gotten a glimpse of his stats.
Owen YuStrength: 10Agility: 8Estimated Punch Force: 750kg+
Liam himself?Strength: 8Punch Force: 534kg
That seemed like a huge difference for just 2 attribute points.
Averaging things out, Liam figured his strength stat translated to about 66kg per point. Owen's? Closer to 75kg.
If Owen boosted his agility, his power output might spike past 800kg.
Maybe strength didn't scale linearly. Maybe each point added more the higher you went—a curve instead of a line.
The stronger you got, the more each point was worth?
He logged the thought and pulled up his status panel.
Name: Liam VancePotential Points: 2
Strength: 8Agility: 9Endurance: 8Focus: 10
Skills:
Energy Refinement (Incomplete) - Lv1 (82%)
Hand-to-Hand Combat - Lv0 (89%)
Dual Blades - Lv0 (95%)
Footwork - Lv0 (78%)
Mnemonic Skill - Lv1 (0.5%)
Mental Math - Lv1 (0.1%)
Technical Drawing - Lv1 (0.1%)
After upgrading Mnemonic Skill to Level 1, his memory had improved noticeably.
What once took multiple reads now stuck after a glance.
But EXP gains had slowed dramatically.
Each paragraph now gave just 1 point—sometimes nothing at all.
The skill had clearly evolved past the basics; easy exercises didn't count anymore.
After hitting only 0.5% progress from multiple pages, Liam gave up on grinding Mnemonic and looked elsewhere.
It took all morning, but he discovered two new trainable skills: Mental Math and Technical Drawing.
He couldn't draw worth a damn, but he started sketching geometric shapes.
Random doodles gave no EXP, but structured polyhedral drawings earned consistent gains—especially complex ones.
He realized something: not every action counted.
Mnemonic boosted memory. Mental Math boosted calculation. Drawing enhanced spatial reasoning.
All three skills had one thing in common—they trained his brain.
The others—combat, movement, energy control—trained his body and coordination.
And every one of them gave him something real.
Something that made him better.