Capítulo 442: The Price of Fear
The first day of intense training had come to a grinding, aching end.
And to everyone’s surprise, and maybe their slight shame, not a single person was able to even land a hit on Aron.
Even though that wasn’t the actual goal of the whole exercise, they were still treating the sparring sessions almost like a real fight. After all, in order to feel fear, the kind of paralyzing, primal fear required to trigger their hidden potential, wouldn’t they need to push Aron to the point where he felt in danger? Only then would he attack them back even harder, with genuine intent.
Right now, they had to admit it: because the gap between them and him seemed so incredibly large, none of them really felt the fear of dying.
This, they knew, was their downfall. The thought was perpetually at the back of their heads: they were sure Aron was skilled enough to avoid actually killing them. That tiny safety net, that unspoken assurance, was blocking the mental spike necessary for their breakthrough.
Most of the others had gone home, but Wolf was staying at the Fortis Group facility, taking a room there so he didn’t have to continue the tiring commute back and forth.
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The events of the day kept replaying in his mind.
‘With his weapons and his sheer skill, it seems like Aron might even be above an S rank… a true hidden powerhouse,’Wolf mused, his mind already shifting into evaluation mode. ‘I have to take this into consideration when I’m evaluating certain things. He’s a factor no one in our group, or outside, could have predicted.’
Wolf sighed, feeling the familiar, uncomfortable pinch of inadequacy. ‘And as for me, I need to upgrade myself as well. Otherwise, I will fall behind, and that’s a luxury I can’t afford in this world.’
Piiing!
Wolf heard a notification chime from his phone. He picked it up and saw it was a push alert from one of his old mobile games. He hadn’t touched a game in so long that the system was desperately sending notifications to try and draw him back in.
‘I guess I need to get on a grind here as well,’ he thought, a flicker of his old, competitive nature surfacing. Not just in life, but maybe in the digital world too, just for a moment of distraction.
When the next day had arrived, everyone met in the same stark training room as last time. Max, their stern leader, was already there, scrutinizing them one by one.
He tilted his head slightly, a subtle gesture that nonetheless sent a chill down their spines.
“You all seem to be smiling?” Max asked, his tone dangerously flat.
“It just means we’re ready for today,” Stephen answered, trying to put a brave face on. “Why do you think it’s a bad thing or something, sir?”
“Of course, it’s bad,” Max stated, his voice cutting like a razor. “The whole point of this, the core objective, is that you’re meant to truly feel as if your life is on the line. You’re meant to be staring death in the face.”
Max swept his gaze across the room, focusing on each member’s confident, almost cocky, posture. “If you really felt that, would any of you be walking in here with a smile today? Aron… I think you haven’t been doing your job properly.”
Immediately, everyone’s heart sank. They vividly remembered the painful strikes they had felt just the day before. Aron was already treating them roughly, holding back only just enough. What was Max doing? And they knew, with absolute certainty, that Aron would take Max’s words seriously.
“Very well, sir.” Aron’s voice was devoid of emotion. He reached into his coat and pulled out two daggers, each with a small metal ring at the end. He started to swing them around, the blades flashing silver in the harsh light.
He was spinning the daggers around his hands like he had been doing it for years, a dark, casual dexterity that was terrifying to watch. Then, with a quick snap, he caught the handles and held them ready, the rings fitting perfectly around his fingers.
“I will up their training now,” Aron confirmed.
This time, as Aron went up against them, the session turned brutal, fast.
He was starting to cause scratches and cuts on their bodies. He didn’t just stop shy of hurting them; he was producing real wounds. Because of this, they weren’t even wearing the protective Ranger’s uniform. Their normal, thin clothing was useless.
Blood was being drawn. Several parts of Joe’s shoulder were already cut up, his shirt shredded.
“Come on!” Joe shouted, adrenaline and pain mixing in his voice. “Don’t you have any shame? I thought we were comrades! Are you really going to hurt your comrades like this?!”
Joe then clumsily leaned back, attempting to dodge, but the dagger sliced right through his shirt and left a large, stinging mark across his chest. He was searing with pain, stumbling backward.
Before Joe could regain his footing or do anything else, Aron delivered a devastating kick, right in the crown jewels, sending Joe collapsing instantly onto his knees. Aron followed through, driving his knee directly into Joe’s face.
Joe’s head flung back violently. The world went dark. He was knocked out.
Joe had no idea how long he was out, or what had happened, and a part of him wondered in his hazy state if he had really died. Then he woke up to find Wolf by his side. They were sitting on the edge of the room, watching Stephen get the exact same, brutal treatment.
“Ah, that hurts. It hurts so much!” Joe groaned, clutching his head and his lower body. “I honestly don’t know how much longer I can do this, man. I really don’t.”
He looked desperately at Wolf. “Like, how do we not know if, out of sheer fear of Aron, we have already unlocked this Superhuman Power? Maybe we just need to do our Vows to actually feel stronger.”
“I guess the truth is, we really don’t know,” Wolf answered, his eyes locked on the sparring. “But the ones that might really know the answer, on whether we have unlocked it or not, can only be ourselves.”
The focus of the room then shifted to the intense, desperate fight between Na and Aron.
In one hand, Aron had the gun loaded with rubber bullets. In the other, he held the terrifying, razor-sharp dagger.
Na was badly cut up, huffing and puffing, but he was still going, fueled by a ragged determination. He was pushed back, his guard breaking, when a sudden, inexplicable surge of power seemed to go through him.
With a guttural shout, Na threw a fist with both hands simultaneously, almost like a gorilla aiming to smash its knuckles down at Aron. Aron, recognizing the strange shift in power, dodged barely an inch away from the attack.
BOOM!
The fists slammed into the floor where Aron had just been standing. The tiling underneath them cracked and fractured, breaking apart from the sheer, uncontrolled force.
Everyone stood up instantly to have a look. The room went silent.
“He broke the freaking flooring!” Joe yelled, forgetting his pain for a moment in sheer astonishment.
Max smiled, a genuine, wide grin splitting his usually severe expression. “Well, that’s a surprise. Out of everyone, it looks like Na is the first one.” It was unexpected, to say the least. The dam had finally broken.