After two days of rest, Rudra had fully recovered from his injuries. Even the doctors were astonished by the speed of his body's healing.
Following a few more check-ups, he was discharged from the hospital. Without wasting a second, he began walking toward his home.
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The 5th Residential Area, known for its low-cost rent, prioritized space above all else. As Rudra looked up at the massive building teeming with all kinds of people, he couldn't help but sigh.
He hadn't been wealthy in his previous life either, but he had enough to afford a decent home.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he reminded himself: this wasn't his previous life. If he wanted to live comfortably now, he would have to work harder—and become a warrior.
With that resolve, he started climbing the stairs. Why not take the lift? Was that a joke? In this era, only high-end buildings had the luxury of elevators.
The reason was simple—electricity had become the most valuable energy source in this era. It was reserved primarily for protecting base cities. Only those with enough power or status had the privilege to enjoy its comforts.
Once again, Rudra sighed at the mindset of this era's people. But for now, he lacked the strength to change anything. All he could do was sigh.
Even as these thoughts ran through his mind, his steps never slowed. Before long, he reached the door to his home. He pulled the spare key from his pocket and unlocked it with a familiar motion.
The lights were off, as expected. His mother wasn't home at this hour—she worked at a sewing factory near Area 13.
Remembering the tired look on her face and the slight hunch in her back when she visited him at the hospital, Rudra felt a fresh wave of determination surge within him.
Like any son, he dreamed of giving his mother a better life—one without hardship or exhaustion.
He didn't want her to keep working herself to the bone just for his sake. But as a martial artist, his daily nutritional needs were two or even three times that of an ordinary person. It wasn't cheap to sustain his training and recovery. So, his mother kept working tirelessly.
And it wasn't just her. Sometimes, when he had the time and strength, Rudra also took on tutoring jobs to help ease the burden—just to earn a bit of extra money.
Since it was still early, Rudra quickly changed into his training suit and decided to head to the gym to test his strength.
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He descended the building swiftly and began running toward the location of the Club. At that moment, his speed was 18 meters per second—not his top speed, but sufficient for a warm-up. Weaving nimbly through the crowded streets, Rudra made his way toward the Extreme Martial Club.
Upon arrival, he took out his trainee card and swiped it at the main gate, gaining entry into the gym's main compound.
The Extreme Martial Arts Gym loomed ahead like a colossal beast sprawled across the land. Its main entrance was wide enough for ten cars to drive through side by side, a testament to its grandeur and scale. Inside the compound stood three massive, silver-white buildings, shaped like futuristic spaceships, gleaming under the daylight.
"Hello, Rudra."
"Good morning, Rudra."
As Rudra made his way toward the training room, many trainees greeted him with friendly smiles and nods. The badge on his chest marked him as a trainee, but the respect in their voices came from more than just formality.
Inside the gym, the three towering buildings were known as the Beginner Trainee Teaching Building, the Intermediate Trainee Teaching Building, and the Advanced Trainee Teaching Building.
The first and second floors of the Advanced Trainee Building housed vast lecture halls, each capable of holding thousands of students. These were the core spaces where the gym's instructors conducted their lectures. With a trainee population of nearly thirty to forty thousand across all levels, the Extreme Martial Arts Gym was a city of warriors in its own right.
Walking at a steady pace, Rudra reached the third building—the Advanced Trainee Teaching Building. Many eyes followed him, but no one attempted to stop him or question his presence. Although Rudra often kept a low profile, his strength was well-known.
Just a week ago, he had taken down five advanced trainees single-handedly. Their mistake? Speaking ill of his mother.
Rudra could endure insults directed at himself. But the moment someone tried to disrespect his mother, he would never tolerate it.
On the third floor was a vast training hall, stretching a hundred meters in both length and width—more than enough space for dozens of trainees to practice simultaneously.
At the moment, a group of around a dozen people were practicing Yoga. Unlike China's martial arts, India possessed a vast and ancient inheritance of Yogic traditions—an art that combined physical mastery with deep mental and spiritual control. This rich heritage was one of the key reasons why both nations stood as two of the most powerful in the world.
"Hey, Rudra!"
"Rudra, you're here!"
As soon as he stepped into the large training hall, a few people came forward to greet him.
"Brother Jack, Brother Rahman, Sister Lily," Rudra replied with a warm smile. Being the youngest among them, he had often faced scorn and dismissal from others. But these three had treated him differently. After learning about his situation, they had not only shown him kindness but had also guided him without asking for anything in return. They were the first to extend genuine warmth to him.
"How are you? I heard you had an accident," Sister Lily asked with concern, stepping closer. Her nature was gentle and caring—but Rudra knew well that anyone who dared to underestimate her paid dearly for it.
"I'm fine now," Rudra said, patting his chest with a grin. "After two days of treatment and rest, I'm back to full strength. So, I came to test it out."
"It's good," Sister Lily said with a sigh of relief.
"Hey, hey… our bloody witch has changed!" came a teasing voice. It was Jack, grinning as he walked over. "Looks like she actually cares about someone now. Don't tell me you've fallen for this little brat?"
Rudra chuckled awkwardly, used to Jack's playful jabs.
"Oh? Do you want to feel the sting of my whip again, Jack?" Sister Lily replied sweetly—but with a menacing smile. Despite her tone, a faint blush crept up her neck, though it was subtle enough to go unnoticed.
The moment Jack saw that smile; a chill ran down his spine. That expression had earned her the nickname Bloody Witch, and it wasn't just for show—her power was no joke.
"Oh—uh—must've been my mistake. I must've thought wrong," Jack said quickly, raising his hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright, enough bickering. Rudra came here to test his strength," Rahman said with a smile, stepping in to break up the playful squabble. "Let's go see how much he's improved."
"Oh, right!" Jack perked up, turning to Rudra. "Come on, let's go!"
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Rudra by the arm and dragged him toward the fist strength testing machine.
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Moments later, Rudra stood in front of the electronic device. Known as the Fist Strength Tester, it was a standard tool used to measure a trainee's raw striking power.
Taking a deep breath, Rudra steadied himself. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, calming his nerves and loosening his muscles. The others watched in silence, nodding subtly as they sensed the shift in his energy.
Then—his stance changed.
In an instant, his spine coiled like a drawn bowstring. Power surged from the ground up, flowing through his legs and torso into his arm. His fist shot forward like a cannonball; a blur of explosive force aimed straight at the machine.
Bang!
Rudra's fist slammed into the Fist Strength Tester with a resounding thud. A moment later, the machine buzzed to life, and a string of numbers flashed on the screen:
Fist Strength — 943 kg
Silence fell over the group.
All three of them stared at the screen, stunned. For a moment, no one spoke. Even Rudra stood motionless, eyes fixed on the number. Though surprised, he had a few suspicions forming in his mind—perhaps a result of the mysterious changes within his body since the incident.
"Did… did I see that right? Hey, I must be dreaming," Jack said in a comical tone, rubbing his eyes exaggeratedly.
Lily and Rahman didn't laugh. Instead, they exchanged a wry smile. All three of them knew how difficult it was to break through the threshold required to be recognized as a Prospective Warrior. They themselves had struggled to reach that level. And now, Rudra had just punched through it with ease—at only 17 years old.
"Congratulations, Rudra. You've crossed the minimum fist strength required for the Prospective Warrior test," Rahman said with a proud smile.
"Congratulations!"
"Congrats, brat."
Lily and Jack chimed in one after another, their expressions filled with genuine joy.
"Hehe, it's all thanks to your guidance," Rudra replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "If not for your help, I wouldn't have made it this far."
"Oh, come on," Jack grinned, waving it off. "We all know you're just being polite. Even if we hadn't helped, you would've reached this stage sooner or later. You're built different, kid."
"Rudra, why don't you test your speed next?" Rahman suggested.
"Alright," Rudra nodded without hesitation.
He made his way toward the designated track used for speed testing. Turning back briefly, he gave Rahman a nod.
Understanding the signal, Rahman activated the speed tester.
'Beep!'
Whoosh, whoosh—!
The moment the signal rang out, Rudra shot forward like an arrow released from a taut bowstring. His movement was explosive—smooth yet impossibly fast.
In just a second or two, he had already crossed the nearly 60-meter track, leaving behind a gust of air and stunned expressions.
Once again, a series of numbers flickered onto the display screen:
Speed — 28 m/s
"Hahaha! Good, good!"
A hearty laugh echoed through the hall.
It was Rahman, his face lit up with pride and excitement. "That's incredible, Rudra! You've improved far beyond what we expected."
Lily and Jack stood speechless for a moment, then exchanged glances.
"28 meters per second... That's close to the speed of an official-level warrior," Lily murmured, visibly impressed.
Jack whistled. "Guess we really are getting old. This kid's going to leave us in the dust soon."
"Shut up, Jack. You are just 25 years old." Lily scolded Jack.
Rudra, still catching his breath, couldn't help but smile. Deep down, though, he was wondering—just how far has my body changed since that day?