– Jyn –

  'The sky is green.'

  Over the course of a few hours, my life as a trash human being was turned on its head. I'd gained a system like out of one of those isekai novels, and was sent to the world of Dragon Ball to become a space cop.

  I fought robots, slept in the same room with genuine aliens, and gained various supernatural abilities that I was sure would evolve with time.

  But it wasn't the aliens or the powers that finally made me stop and think. It was the damn sky.

  A feverish, adrenaline-fueled blur of half-remembered DBZ trivia and panic. But standing there, under that unfamiliar sky, it hit me that my previous life was entirely gone.

  This wasn't Earth. I wasn't me anymore. Not really.

  "What… am I doing?" The words slipped out as I stared at my hands, turning them over like they belonged to someone else.

  It didn't feel real until now. None of it did.

  I had gone with the flow until now, knowing my fate would be a thousand times worse if I didn't. It wasn't like I had a choice. But now, with the green sky pressing down on my mind, I started to wonder if I should feel something more.

  Panic?

  Despair?

  Excitement?

  I lowered my hands and let my gaze wander to the other recruits. Most were stretching or quietly chatting. One or two of them were meditating.

  Nobody spoke to me. I didn't know how to meditate or stretch correctly. My only experience with moving my body was in gym class.

  'I… don't belong here—'

  BOOM!

  I flinched as a shockwave of sound slammed into me, rattling my teeth. I could've sworn the ground trembled a little, too.

  Aprico was standing there, his palms held together. A thin layer of dust kicked up around him.

  'That was from a clap? …Damn.'

  "Follow," Aprico growled, his deep voice cutting through the lingering hum of his clap. "Don't stop until I say so."

  He turned and started walking. No fanfare. No explanation. Just walked away like we were supposed to know where we were going.

  I hesitated.

  For half a second, I thought about staying put, but my feet were already moving. Instinct, maybe. Or fear. Probably both.

  While we walked, I thought he was going to just take us somewhere, but he didn't say a word. He just… kept walking.

  I'm pretty sure someone even asked him a question, but he didn't bother to answer.

  Besides that, no one else talked much. Maybe they knew better.

  That wasn't too bad, for a while. Since he was so much taller I had to speed walk just to keep with his normal walking speed. I think I was doing pretty well since I'd managed to avoid stumbling over myself.

  But as the minutes stretched, so did his stride. Walking turned to jogging, then running. By the time I realized what was happening, we were sprinting.

  And then it hit me.

  'He's doing the fucking marathon from hell, isn't he?'

  The thought made me laugh, but it came out as a wheeze.

  It was a test from Hunter x Hunter, a different anime I'd seen. In that anime the instructor just started running. Everyone followed without an end goal in sight. A test of both mental endurance and physical endurance since the examinee didn't know when they'd ever stop.

  I remembered thinking it looked impossible from the comfort of my couch.

  "You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered under my breath as I felt my legs start to burn.

  I didn't care about pride or competition. I hated running. Always had. If I could stop, I would. But I didn't.

  I don't know why. Maybe I was afraid Aprico would clap again and disintegrate me on the spot. Maybe I was just tired of being a quitter.

  "Gah, pant, kuk, pant…"

  I'd never learned the proper way to breathe while running. I knew it existed, but I'd never bothered to learn.

  I hated the fact that my nose was starting to run or that I involuntarily began to shed tears. I hated that I could taste a mixture of dust and saliva in my mouth.

  I hated that I was still an outcast. No matter how much I tried, everyone else was slowly pulling farther and farther away.

  I hated it. Not because I cared what they thought, but because it felt familiar. Too familiar.

  I hated running with a passion.

  But I didn't stop.

  I knew that I didn't belong here and that everyone else had probably been training since birth. And it was only logical that I would take quite a while just to catch up.

  My lungs felt like they were ripping apart, and my joints felt like they were cracking.

  There was no shame in resting for a bit; I knew that.

  But…

  'I can't… I can't stop here…'

  This was my chance. In my past life, I had been a loser until the end. Time and time again I simply gave up and threw myself a pity party of excuses.

  But this was a new life—A fresh start where I could reforge myself without any excuses. Where I had a clear advantage in life that would push me further.

  In a noble-dark world where a single man's hard work could change the universe.

  Where if you're smart about pushing your limits, they will break.

  It wasn't pride or faith in myself that led me to believe that, but an undeniable truth set by the main character of this multiverse.

  I remembered those episodes vividly—Goku, beaten and bruised, lying in the dirt but grinning like he'd just won the whole world. Because he had. He had zero business getting up time and time again, finding some new path to greater strength.

  Yet he always kept moving forward.

  Even when everyone said it was impossible for him to get stronger, or impossible for him to win, he'd always find a way.

  Each step felt like I had weights strapped to my ankles. My legs dragged, my breath came out in ragged gasps, and the world started tilting a little too much for my liking.

  I wanted to stop. Hell, my body was practically screaming at me to stop.

  'But Goku would keep going.'

  The thought looped in my mind.

  I stumbled forward, nearly twisting my ankle as the sprint caught up to me. A sharp cramp twisted in my side like a knife digging into my ribs, but I bit my tongue and pressed on.

  The other recruits were dots on the horizon now, pulling ahead while I lagged behind, gasping like a fish.

  I tried to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze. "I'm not Goku," I muttered, wiping sweat from my eyes. "I'm not even Yamcha on a good day."

  Because Yamcha wasn't weak, nor was Krillin, or any of the human warriors. They trained and stood next to titans even when they had no chance of winning.

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  My foot dragged, and I nearly collapsed face-first into the dirt. I caught myself at the last second, stumbling forward in a half-trip that barely resembled running.

  'One more step.'

  I couldn't breathe.

  'One more.'

  My vision blurred.

  'Just… one more.'

  I didn't know when I hit the ground. I just remembered the green sky above, blurred by sweat and tears.

  As a student, I failed. As a son, I failed. As a brother and friend, I failed. In my past life, I was a loser, through and through.

  Yet somehow, even as the world slowly faded to black while the others were miles ahead…

  The thought of Goku's stupid grin made me feel like I hadn't lost yet.

  I stared, watching the shadows dance across the ceiling.

  There was an artificial, almost sterile scent in the air. Was I in the hospital?

  A screen flickered into my vision, reminding me it wasn't all just one long delusion-filled dream.

  o—o

  Training Report

  Training inefficiency detected. Stat gain will be hindered.

  [Body] stat has increased (+0.6 Body)

  Below minimum threshold (1.0). Stat increase discarded.

  Title [F-Class] activates—boosting inefficient gains by 50%.

  [Body] stat increase recalculated...

  Threshold surpassed. Excess discarded. Stat gain applied.

  (+1 Body)

  o—o

  'Ah, right. I collapsed while running, didn't I?'

  It was cathartic to see my effort be translated into physical growth, but the fact that my title just barely salvaged my stat gain put a dampener on that feeling.

  The realization stung—a reminder that I hadn't truly pushed myself to my limits. I'd burned through my stamina inefficiently, wasting energy I could've used more effectively with proper form.

  'Ah, right. I collapsed while running, didn't I?'

  It was cathartic to see my effort be translated into physical growth, but the fact that my title just barely salvaged my stat gain put a dampener on that feeling.

  The realization stung—a reminder that I hadn't truly pushed myself to my limits. I'd burned through my stamina inefficiently, wasting energy I could've used more effectively with proper form.

  That kind of mistake usually weighed on me. The idea that I was so far behind it wasn't even funny. But this time, excitement flickered underneath the frustration.

  Why?

  Because—

  "I have a long way to go," I blurted out.

  It always felt like I was going nowhere in life, and that all my efforts would eventually be overshadowed by another's. But in this life, even if I didn't have a reason yet, it felt amazing to have a clear path forward.

  Even if Goku and Vegeta only had one transformation, they would still be the two strongest of the Z-Fighters. Because while everyone took breaks or calmed down in times of peace, those two stayed true to their training.

  Goku focused on improving himself without fail—to always be better than he was the day before. Meanwhile, Vegeta sought to surpass the one guy who would never stop training.

  Thus, their true strength was in their consistency. Even if their power only increased by a fraction every day, it was those small increments that stacked over time—year after year.

  And it was that unwavering discipline that I admired. The path to victory that I sought to walk.

  "You've got that right."

  I nearly jumped at the voice, but my body was way too sore for that. I flickered my eyes to the side, where I met the sharp, crimson gaze of Instructor Calia.

  She was leaning casually against the wall with a tablet in her hand, reading through something idly.

  'How long has she been here?' I wondered. 'Did she watch me stare at the open air?'

  "Uh," I wiped my eyes and swallowed the dryness in my throat. "How long have I been out?"

  "Only a few hours." Calia stepped away from the wall, approaching my bed. "You burned yourself out pretty thoroughly. Honestly, I'm surprised you held out as long as you did with that terrible running form."

  I grimaced. "Running's not really my thing."

  "That much is evident," She didn't bother sugarcoating it. "In any case, you're awake now. And since you missed something important we implemented, I might as well show it to you now."

  She swiped at her tablet, bringing up a display and turning it toward me.

  I narrowed my eyes at the bright screen. A list of names scrolled vertically, each accompanied by a number. At the very bottom, my name blinked in bright red.

  Rank #15 – Jyn

  Calia tapped the screen. "You're all F-Class, but we now have a ranking system designed to foster competition growth. Everything is included in deciding your rank—combat effectiveness, power level, even theoretical knowledge."

  I dragged my gaze away from the blinking red number. "I take it passing out mid-run is what put me at the bottom?"

  "Pretty much. But that's to be expected when training has just started. Climbing the ranks isn't impossible, so don't worry." Calia stepped back, crossing her arms. "The top three recruits in your batch receive special rewards. Personalized training, direct access to better resources, and sometimes even the opportunity to tag along on field assignments."

  Standard merit system, then. But that begged the question. "And what happens if I stay at the bottom? Would I be punished or something?"

  Calia made a so-so motion. "Not… really? It just looks bad to graduate from F-Class at the very bottom. You'll probably be assigned to non-combat roles for a while. Logistics, communications, that kind of thing."

  That… didn't sound too bad, actually. Honestly, I wasn't aiming to be some battlefield hero. I just liked the feeling of progress.

  I was competing with myself, not any of these other people. And while one-on-one training would be nice, it wasn't like I couldn't get it somewhere else.

  Earth alone had a ton of masters to learn from, much less the entire universe.

  "Got it," I replied quietly. Then a thought struck me. "Oh, thanks for carrying me here, by the way."

  She waved it off. "Just doing my job. At the rate you're going, we'll probably see each other here often."

  I nodded, accepting that as reality. "Yeah, fair enough."

  Then she sighed. "I was just teasing, don't be so hard on yourself."

  "Oh."

  She didn't seem like the type of person to joke around, so I didn't even consider it. Plus, her delivery was way too dry.

  But her words weren't exactly wrong, I expected to be in the infirmary a lot so…

  "Uh, sorry?" I tried.

  Calia shook her head, clearly regretting the whole exchange. "Never mind. Forget it."

  She turned on her heel and walked toward the door without another word. That was awkward, even if I didn't really understand what went wrong.

  The screen's glow was still a bit jarring in the slightly dark room. I squinted at it, reading my name at the bottom once more.

  The blinking red number was a sobering reminder that—

  "Wait… uh, she left her tablet," I realized, cutting off my own train of thought. I didn't really care about my rank.

  I stared at the device for a long moment.

  "Am I supposed to give this back?"

  Six days had passed since then, and in total, the training had lasted a week.

  As the first day was an assessment of how far one could go, there were no more extreme stretches of physical activity.

  Though, that wasn't to say the schedule was easygoing.

  Waking up at the crack of dawn, they only had an hour of morning time before going straight into hour-long training sessions.

  After some breakfast and personal time, they went right back into training.

  Of course, following this was the afternoon mealtime. The food was… edible. I guess. If you didn't think too hard about what it was.

  I even gained a skill after eating some of the more… exotic dishes.

  o—o

  User has encountered a lethal toxin and survived. [Human Adaptability] is reacting...

  Minor Skill [Lesser Resistance: Poison] has manifested!

  (+1 Body)

  o—o

  …Yeah.

  In all fairness, they did warn me that they weren't sure my species could handle the food. But I figured that with my ability, the worst-case scenario was that I had to be put in a healing pod or something.

  And hey, I was right. So, whatever.

  After the afternoon meal, we had to sit down and get lectured by Instructor Gruen for what felt like hours.

  I'm not saying he was boring—just that it was hard to focus when your whole body felt like it had turned into jelly. Without any energy left, we really couldn't devote attention to training the mind, so to speak.

  I tried my best, really, but it felt like my brain always abandoned ship halfway through.

  After all of that, we were pretty much free to do as we wished until dinner.

  After that, we were left to our own devices until dinner. Sparring was off the table—apparently, the instructors didn't want us forming bad habits. Calia told me flat-out it was to avoid one-sided fights while we were all still building our strength.

  Made sense. I wasn't too hung up about it.

  Wraak, on the other hand… let's just say the giant crocodile wasn't thrilled.

  Not that he ever spoke to me, but he seemed chill—until the sparring ban turned him into the loudest person in the room. I assumed he had his reasons. Whatever they were, I didn't care enough to ask.

  Instead, I focused on myself as usual.

  With just the normal training Aprico put us through, I wouldn't gain any points of [Body]. I understood what he was trying to instill in us by just focusing on gymnastic exercises, but it wasn't building any raw power.

  I'm pretty sure his plan was to get us used to the movements before strapping weights on us to make it harder, but I wanted to get stronger now.

  While everyone else was far too tired to continue training after lunch, I and a few others decided to go right back into the gym. Judging by the looks we got, the others thought we were either obsessed or clinically insane.

  'Or maybe they're just looking at me,' I thought, stretching out on the weight bench.

  It was always awkward when I used the weights. Mostly because I had no idea what I was doing.

  My training log would probably mark this as 'inefficient,' but hey—one point of [Body] every other day was better than nothing.

  And today… wasn't any different.

  I positioned myself—feet flat against the floor, back nice and flat against the bench. My hands found the cold grooves on the bar, and I gave it a solid squeeze.

  Taking a deep breath, I unracked the bar with a bit more of a heave than expected, and it swayed for a second. My arms locked out, holding it in place. When it was stable enough, I lowered it down as smoothly as I could.

  Of course, it dropped a little faster on the way down, but that was fine.

  As soon as the bar touched my chest, I shoved it back up with all my strength. The bar wobbled, but I powered through it, my elbows flared out wide. Eventually, the weight reached its apex, and my arms slightly shook.

  Lower, push, repeat. Simple enough.

  Somewhere in the background—near the treadmill or the row of stationary bikes—I caught voices drifting in and out of focus.

  "Look. Even the dead last is doing extra training."

  "Isn't it ridiculous, though? Why did he spend all his life lazing around if he was going to work hard now?"

  "Dunno. But look, doesn't it look like he's going to pass out again?"

  The bar dipped lower than I meant it to, and I shoved it back up with a little more effort than I'd admit.

  I kept going.

  There was no doubt they were talking about me… but they sounded ridiculous. The mockery was almost nostalgic, like watching background characters rip on Naruto for stupid reasons.

  Made me want to laugh.

  Because as long as I kept moving forward—even just a little—then I was content.

  By the time I was halfway through my second set, someone stepped closer.

  "If you don't mind the intrusion," a calm voice interrupted, "I'd like to talk. There's something I want to tell you."

  I tilted my head, meeting sharp green eyes.

  Silver hair. Red skin. The girl who looked suspiciously like Jeice's long-lost cousin.

  I blinked, sweat stinging my eyes. We hadn't spoken at all this past week. The only words I'd ever said to her were probably "excuse me" when I needed to squeeze past.

  Now she was here, standing over me while I was drenched in sweat, holding a ridiculous amount of weight over my chest.

  And as I sat there, vaguely aware that half the gym was watching us, one single thought lodged itself into my head:

  'I don't remember her name.'