Soon, Asher found himself seated inside a wide training dojo, surrounded by other Sleepers.
And unfortunately, seated right next to Changing Star.
After internally debating with himself for a solid ten minutes earlier, he'd come to a conclusion: if he kept awkwardly avoiding her, things were only going to get weirder. That didn't mean he was comfortable, though.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he slid a few centimeters away from her side.
'Totally normal behavior.'
The class was currently taking turns throwing their strongest punches into a reinforced metal plate attached to a special impact meter. The machine displayed each Sleeper's raw strength as a number.
Most landed between ten and fourteen.
Nephis, to Asher's surprise, actually seemed interested—her pale eyes observing each participant with quiet curiosity.
Asher, meanwhile, looked like he was watching paint dry.
He yawned.
'Everyone here is... stupidly attractive,' he thought absently. Not that he was having lustful thoughts! Not now, anyway. Probably.
Maybe.
"Nephis," Rock called.
It was her turn.
Asher didn't even bother watching. He already knew she was going to hit sixteen.
He continued to look around, of course, he wasn't looking at people.
"Ah!" Asher spotted an inconspicuous shadow spying on the dojo.
he stared directly at it for a moment… then flashed a grin.
In a completely different room, Sunny sat bolt upright, goosebumps crawling up his spine.
"…No way. That bastard saw my shadow?" he whispered, eyes wide.
That was when Nephis, seemingly finished with hers, quietly sat down next to Asher, before proceeding to give him an intense glare.
.
.
.
'Wait… does she… want me to say something?'
Asher stared back, mentally sweating bullets.
"Uh. You are… s-strong," he said at last, voice cracking like a broken flute.
Nephis nodded, "I am."
Then turned to face forward again, completely unfazed.
Asher blinked. 'Huh?'
It was Caster's turn now.
The dojo fell into stunned silence as the numbers flashed across the screen.
21.
A few people gasped. Others just stared. Even Asher raised a brow. He totally forgot Caster got more than Nephis.
Caster turned to look directly at him.
His gaze lingered—cool, pointed.
Asher met it with an unreadable expression. 'Oh. He's trying to provoke me. Cute.'
"Asher."
It was his turn.
With a sigh, Asher strolled up to the machine, cracking his knuckles for dramatic effect.
From the sidelines, Nephis leaned forward. Caster tilted his head, watching closely. Even Sunny stopped chewing on his straw.
Asher raised his fist…
Took a deep breath…
And punched.
The number blinked on the screen:
8.
…
Asher stared at it for a second, then turned around to face the stunned crowd. He casually stuck out his tongue.
"That's the best I got."
—PFFFT!
Sunny spat the cola he'd been sipping across the floor as he laughed. Sudden, Jet's word didn't sound so loud again.
A beat later, the rest of the class burst out too. Even Caster—who looked like he'd swallowed a lemon—let out an involuntary chuckle.
Asher, unbothered, walked back and plopped down next to Nephis.
He turned his head and gave her the exact same unblinking stare she'd given him earlier.
Without missing a beat, Nephis returned the look.
"You are weak."
Asher chuckled dryly. "I am."
He was.
This was not the same body he had in his first nightmare. It was significantly worse. He didn't have much strength, and his muscles were not developed at all. If it was the body he had in his nightmare, he was sure that the score would at least be 14.
The Rock gave a disappointed look to Asher before he spoke, "Now, we will move to sparring and evaluate your general level of training. I need two volunteers to begin."
Nephis glanced at Asher as she stood up along with a muscular dude. Asher sighed as he got up and held Nephis by the shoulder, "Can I fight?" he asked with a smile.
Nephis looked at Asher's eyes for a few seconds a bit confused before saying with the same stoic face, "Ok."
Asher nodded as he made his way to the ring. Nephis observed the scene with a keen interest.
Meanwhile, Sunny couldn't contain his excitement as he cheered Asher on. "Finally! That bastard will get the beating he deserves! I support you, muscle man!" he exclaimed.
Of course he did. This guy ruined the closest thing he would have akin to a school life!
The muscular student cracked his knuckles, then pointed at Asher with a grin too wide to be friendly.
"Hey, pipsqueak! No hard feelings when I plummet your pretty face to the ground, ok?"
Laughter rippled through the watching crowd. A few hoots and whistles followed.
""Enough," Rock said, his tone brooking no argument. Instantly, the room quieted.
"The rules are simple," he explained, his gaze shifting between Asher and his opponent. "Make your opponent's back touch the floor or throw them out of the ring. Use whatever abilities and techniques you find appropriate."
Both nodded.
With a smirk, Asher's opponent boasted about his score. "You know, I got a score of 17, right? That's one more than that Nephis girl! What is someone like you, who got a mere eight, going to do? Hahaha!" he jeered.
Asher shrugged, "Beat you."
Again, the crowd tried to contain their laughter before Rock glanced at them, supressing it entirely.
He turned to the fighters, "You may begin."
The muscle man charged instantly, bellowing like a bull, fists clenched and ready to flatten Asher.
The spectators leaned forward, fully expecting a splatter.
But Asher… was adjusting his dobok.
Just calmly brushing off the front, like he was getting ready for a photoshoot instead of an incoming sledgehammer of a man.
The muscle man hesitated for a fraction of a second, grin faltering. Was the guy serious?
He came closer, and closer—
'This'll be over in one hit', Rock thought with a disappointed sigh.
And then—
Time slowed.
Asher tilted his head just enough to let the punch whistle past his cheek. In the same motion, his right leg snapped up and out, the air around it shimmering with faint distortion—like heatwaves bent around his foot.
The kick landed square in the man's chest.
BOOM.
The attacker was launched like a ragdoll, soaring through the air before colliding with the far dojo wall in a heap of groans and regret.
The silence that followed was deafening. Jaws dropped. Even the floor creaked in disbelief.
A beat passed.
Then, as if on cue, a collective murmur of "Eh?" rippled through the spectators.
Sunny stood so fast his chair toppled. His eyes twitched like a man betrayed by reality itself.
"T-That machine was broken! There's no way that was an eight! That had to be at least a twenty! No, twenty-five! He yeeted a guy who scored seventeen!"
Everyone had their thoughts snapped as they heard Asher click his tongue, "Tsk, I even held back."
"EHHH?!?!" the throng collectively shouted.
Nephis remained impassive as always… but her eyes flicked toward Asher, unreadable.
Caster's jaw was subtly clenched, his stare lingering longer than he meant to.
Asher caught it and offered a sly smile.
'You thought I didn't fall for your provocation bastard?!'
_______________
[A/n: Extra chapter for 100 collections!! Thank you!]