Chapter 76 Earn it with strength!
1214 Words
Levin studied Adam’s eyes. The young man hadn’t fully shaken off the feral intensity of combat—traces of raw, untamed aggression still lingered in his gaze.
For a few tense seconds, their daggers remained locked at each other’s vital points. Then Levin let out a booming laugh, breaking the standoff.
He pushed both their weapon-hands down and said, “In all my years teaching, you’re the biggest troublemaker I’ve ever met—and by far the most unusual.”
“Not bad. I’ll call this round a draw. For someone your age to reach this level… I almost suspect you were recruited as a child prodigy.”
“What kind of battles have you been through? And why were you even deployed before enrollment?”
Curiosity burned in Levin’s eyes. Adam’s technique lacked formal structure—no refined martial discipline—yet his killing instinct was razor-sharp, honed only through real, life-or-death combat. Levin pushed his students hard, yes, but never to throw them into s*******r before they were ready. He’d never have sent an untrained kid into a warzone.
Adam took a long moment to calm down, slowly emerging from the bloodthirsty haze. Then, in a tone that was oddly casual—even laced with dry humor—he recounted the events of his recent engagement.
As Levin listened to the understated way Adam described horrors that would shatter most adults, his expression grew steadily more serious. The playful arrogance faded, replaced by genuine respect.
“You weren’t even enrolled yet,” Levin said, voice low and solemn. “You’d just finished your trial… and you threw yourself into that fight to protect your classmates?”
“No wonder you carry this kind of strength.”
“Hold on,” Adam cut in, throwing his hands up. “That’s not what I said at all! Don’t rewrite my lines. I never said I did it to ‘protect classmates.’ I was paid. Don’t try to guilt-trip me into working for free.”
“Oh, and about last night—President Freud wrapped things up in the end, sure, but I pulled my weight too. Is anyone at the university handling compensation? Academic credits? Rewards? That sort of thing?”
Levin’s eyebrow shot up. “Wait—you fought last night?”
“Yeah.”
“But earlier you said you stayed up all night playing online games!”
“I did,” Adam replied, deadpan. “Fought first, then gamed all night after.”
Levin: *…Logically airtight. I have no rebuttal.*
“Well then,” Levin said, his expression shifting abruptly from amusement to gravity. He snapped his heels together, stood ramrod straight, and gave Adam a crisp, formal salute.
“From that perspective alone—you’ve earned my respect. And I apologize for what I said earlier.”
Adam blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. He instinctively stepped back. “Uh… you really don’t need to go full ceremony on me. Just give me the credits and we’re good.”
“No,” Levin said firmly, shaking his head. “Before, I thought you were wasting time while others bled to keep you safe. That’s why I called you out.”
“But now I know—you were one of those who stood in the line of fire. That makes you a guardian, not a bystander. And I have no right to lecture you.”
He turned to face the class, his gaze sweeping over the stunned, exhausted students.
“I train you because these skills will save your lives. So if you slack off, I’ll break you.”
“But you,” he said, nodding at Adam, “are different. From the moment you chose to fight, you became more than a student—you became a comrade.”
“Thank you. For everything you’ve done.”
Without waiting for a response, Levin raised his voice to the entire cohort:
“Listen well! If you want respect—if you want honor, recognition, or anything else you’re chasing—”
“Earn it with strength!”
“Had enough rest? Good. We continue!”
The moment he spoke, a new wave of pressure crashed down—not just mental, but visceral. Visions of gore, screaming, and battlefield c*****e flooded every student’s mind.
Many turned pale. Legs trembled. But this time, no one collapsed immediately.
Adam had already sprinted so far ahead they could barely see his back—but not one of them wanted to be left behind.
Watching him go toe-to-toe with Levin—unbroken, unyielding—had lit a fire in every student’s chest. Even Henry, who’d long embraced his role as Adam’s loyal sidekick, gritted his teeth.
*Damn it… I can’t be the weakest link!*
In Serena’s mind, Thomas’s words from the night before echoed alongside Levin’s declaration:
“If you want something—take it with power.”
*Hold on. Just hold on.*
Adam observed the class, then checked in with himself. Strangely… he felt nothing. No pressure. No visions.
“Does that mean… this part doesn’t apply to me anymore?”
“For you, it’s pointless now,” Levin said, turning to him. “But you’ve got other work to do.”
He gestured for Adam to follow him aside.
“Have you noticed? Every time you slip into that killing state, your judgment falters. You lose control—become reckless, brutal, almost mindless.”
Adam nodded silently. He’d known this for a while. It just… happened. Automatically. Like muscle memory for s*******r.
“Rage isn’t always bad in combat,” Levin continued. “It makes you fearless. But it also blinds you. Makes you sloppy. Like just now—you almost lost because you stopped thinking.”
Adam listened without interrupting. He knew Levin was the expert here.
Seeing that Adam wasn’t arrogant—despite his talent—but actually humble about his flaws, Levin gave a satisfied nod.
“So your training won’t be like theirs. It’ll be advanced. Specialized. Designed to fix that exact issue—to teach you mastery over your own instincts.”
“Think you can handle it, kid?”
Adam straightened, eyes sharp. He knew this wasn’t something his system could solve alone. He needed guidance.
“No problem… Professor Levin.”
Levin grunted in approval. Now that’s more like it.
“…Though, Professor,” Adam added quickly, “if it’s not too much trouble—could you maybe put in a word about those credits for last night’s op?”
Levin: ...
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What followed was relentless.
Wave after wave of psychological and physical trials pushed every student to their absolute limits—until dusk painted the sky in gold and crimson.
By the end, they were drenched in sweat, clothes clinging to their bodies like second skins. The female students’ figures were outlined clearly, radiating the raw, unguarded energy of youth.
But the boys were too drained to notice. They looked like husks—souls half-sucked out by exhaustion.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, a slender figure sat beneath a distant tree, chin resting in her palm, lips curved in a quiet smile.
Her eyes—warm, knowing—were fixed on the crowd.
More precisely, on one person within it.
- Writer
