The scent of cedar and something herbal—perhaps eucalyptus—greeted Qin Hong as he stepped into the bathing chamber. His dirt-caked training uniform left a trail of dust motes dancing in the sunlight streaming through the high windows. Before him stretched an oasis of steam and tranquility that defied all logic given their remote location.
The bathing pool occupied the center of the room, its jade-green waters fed by nine ornate spouts shaped like dragon heads. Their synchronized streams created a soothing rhythm against the water's surface. To the left stood a cedar sauna, its wooden sts darkened by years of heat and moisture; to the right, a rainfall shower with stone tiles that shimmered like abalone shell.
"How...?" Qin Hong's fingers trailed along the perfectly joined woodwork. The cabin had been primitive three months ago. Now it boarded amenities that rivaled luxury spas in Venos City.
Stripping off his filthy clothes, he dipped a tentative toe into the pool—and nearly moaned aloud as the mineral-rich water worked instant magic on his aching muscles. Some combination of heat and whatever infused the water sent tingling waves through his exhausted body. As he submerged completely, the tension of hauling weighted carts through wilderness terrain for ninety consecutive days melted away.
"Now this is living," he murmured, watching steam curl toward the vaulted ceiling.
---
An hour ter, dressed in fresh training garb with a towel around his neck, Qin Hong found Guann sipping tea in the newly expanded living area. The scent of oolong and something citrusy—maybe bergamot—hung in the air. Without ceremony, Qin Hong grabbed the waiting second cup and drained it in one go.
"So," he said, wiping his mouth, "what's next?"
Guann's golden eyes gleamed with amusement. "Rest today. Tomorrow..." He stood in one fluid motion, heading for the door.
"Wait! Where are you—"
The door clicked shut on Qin Hong's unfinished question.
---
**Dawn - Day Ninety-One**
A firm shake roused Qin Hong from dreams of floating in endless green pools. Guann's silhouette loomed in the predawn gloom. "Up. New phase begins."
They descended to a study Qin Hong hadn't known existed. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, their contents ranging from ancient leather-bound tomes to modern holographic archives. At the room's center stood an iron pedestal supporting a book that could double as a small table—its cover bck as voidspace and embossed with silver runes.
"The Sayan Bck Tome," Guann announced. "Every known ability fruit, their stages of mastery, and recorded Absolute Domains." He flipped open the massive cover with ease, revealing pages thinner than rice paper yet somehow durable. "Your new morning ritual—copy one page daily. By hand."
Qin Hong eyed the intricate diagrams and dense calligraphy. "Can't we just—"
"No." The single word carried finality.
---
**Training Grounds**
The weighted gear nearly buckled Qin Hong's knees when Guann first handed it over. The vest alone felt like wearing a refrigerator; the wrist and ankle guards might as well have been forged from neutron stars. Strapping on the belt nearly toppled him.
"Breathe," Guann advised, not unkindly. "Your bones will adapt."
Before them sat a wooden cart piled high with stone bricks, its rear hitched to a plow wide enough to till an acre in one pass. Qin Hong's stomach dropped.
"You can't be—"
"Start with five kilometers today," Guann said, already walking away. "Oh, and dinner's your responsibility too."
The first hundred meters left Qin Hong wheezing. By kilometer three, his vision swam with bck spots. Yet as the weeks passed, something remarkable happened—the weights grew lighter. Not because they changed, but because he did.
---
**Meanwhile - Venos Aerial Command**
The office window rattled as Commander Hojo smmed his meaty palms on the desk. "Twenty flyers stolen in six days, Lieutenant Aki! Twenty!" Spittle flew onto the holographic compint reports floating between them.
Lieutenant Haruka Aki—"Sunny" to her squad—stood at perfect attention, her bck boots gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The silver wings pinned to her uniform colr seemed to droop under Hojo's tirade.
"And that damned silver F300S from st month's joyride incident?" Hojo's jowls quivered. "I want answers, not excuses!"
"Yes, sir." Sunny's voice betrayed nothing, though her mind raced. The theft pattern was all wrong—no crew could move that many high-security vehicles so quickly. Unless...
Her communicator buzzed. Another flyer gone missing.
---
**Venos Headquarters - Garden Tea Time**
The scent of jasmine tea and freshly baked scones sweetened the air as Xiaoyu recounted the flyer thefts to Sisi and Madame Chubby. Bees hummed around the rose bushes, their zy flight paths mirroring the curling steam from their cups.
"It's not normal," Xiaoyu insisted, fingers tight around her porcein cup. "Same man—thirty-ish, masked—selling to six different chop shops. But here's the thing..." She leaned in. "The transactions happened simultaneously across districts."
Madame Chubby's many chins wobbled as she nodded. "Ability user, then. Spatial manipution or duplication perhaps?"
Sisi's eyes lit up. "Bait him. Use Qin Hong's old flyer—"
"Absolutely not." Madame Chubby's teacup cttered onto its saucer. "Guann was explicit about your restrictions."
Xiaoyu's shoulders slumped. Without Qin Hong around, the pn would have to wait.
---
**Hedel Isle - Present Day**
Three months of dawn-to-dusk bor had transformed Qin Hong's body. Where once softness resided, now only corded muscle remained. His shoulders could bear the weight of worlds; his legs powered through terrain that would break lesser men.
Which made Guann's test assignment all the more perplexing.
"Ten wings from carrion mantises?" Qin Hong repeated, rolling the unfamiliar words around his mouth. "With the weights on?"
Guann's smirk was answer enough.
---
**The Hunt Begins**
Qin Hong's first stop—the titanopithecus skeleton—yielded nothing but bleached bones. His second and third locations proved equally barren. Nature's cleanup crew had been thorough.
At the watering hole, inspiration struck. "If you want carrion..." He grinned at the ke's darkening waters. "Make carrion."
The serpent that emerged dwarfed even his most terrifying memories. Fifty meters if it was an inch, its scales the color of dried blood. When it moved, the ground trembled.
Qin Hong's Voidbde seemed ughably small against the beast's armored hide. His first strike—which would have bisected steel—barely scratched its epidermis.
"Okay," he muttered, watching the serpent drink unconcerned. "New pn."
---
**Dinner Interlude**
Back at the cabin, Illya hummed as she set the table. The aroma of her stew—chicken simmered with wild mushrooms and herbs—filled the space with homey warmth.
"It's ready," she called, watching Guann pore over the Bck Tome.
When he finally sat, his measured "It's adequate" hid the truth—that no one made stew like Illya used to. That some fvors couldn't be replicated, no matter how many years passed.
As they ate in silence, both pretended not to notice the distant sounds of Qin Hong's ongoing battle—the thunderous crashes, the enraged hissing, and beneath it all, the determined shouts of a young man refusing to yield.
