Sumo?

The weekend had begun, and George wandered the school grounds, searching for the only classmate he knew. 'Where the heck is that nerd?' he thought.

Most students were either outside the academy, enjoying their break, or inside, training relentlessly. The gym was undoubtedly packed, and even Class-C's smaller gym would be too crowded for him to use any equipment.

As he passed the cafeteria, his eyes locked onto a familiar figure. He made his way over and saw Jame, sitting at a table, writing in his notebook while casually eating.

"Hey, James!" George patted him on the back.

"Jame…" he corrected, not looking up from his writing.

"Yeah, whatever," George shrugged. "I was wondering—are there any competitions where the Herculean elixir is the prize?"

Jame nodded. "Yeah, there's a competition at the end of the month. The top-ranking student gets to move to a higher class and also wins a Herculean elixir. But since we're in Class-C, the version we get is watered down."

George leaned in, curious. "What about Class-B and A?"

"Class-B gets a decent-quality elixir, and Class-A gets the high-quality version," Jame explained between bites.

Rubbing his chin in thought, George asked, "And how effective is the watered-down potion?"

"It's... okay, I guess? You gain about five pounds of muscle, and your bones get stronger. The high-quality version gives you closer to twenty pounds of muscle."

"Immediately?" George's eyes widened. He had expected something like steroids, which required time and effort, but this elixir sounded far more efficient.

Jame nodded, confirming George's suspicions. "Pretty much right away."

"Guess I gotta get first place, then," George said, standing abruptly and heading for the exit, his mind already plotting how to win the competition.

Left alone in the cafeteria, Jame merely shrugged and returned to scribbling in his notebook—words that looked like gibberish to anyone else.

George, now determined, rushed to the academy's library. Unlike the other areas, the library was nearly empty, with only the librarian quietly reading at her desk. As George entered, the librarian glanced up. 'Huh, he's back again…' she thought.

Without wasting time, George began scanning the shelves, hunting for a book that might give him an edge in the upcoming competition. But with the vast size of the library, he realized finding the right book on his own could take all day.

"Looking for something?" the librarian asked, approaching him.

"Yeah," George replied, turning to face her. "I need a book on events or activities that the academy holds—a record book of sorts. I'm trying to figure out what 'practical sparring' really means."

The librarian nodded and, within moments, returned with a large volume in hand. "Here it is. If you need help finding anything else, just ask. You wouldn't believe how many students spend hours searching for books that don't even exist."

"Thanks," George said, taking the book and sitting at a nearby table to start reading.

He flipped through the pages, scanning for relevant information.

[1st-Semester Practical Sparring: In cases where students are not yet proficient at controlling their strength, particularly first-semester students, practical sparring involves pushing opponents outside a drawn circle. The last one inside the circle is declared the winner, while the one pushed out loses the spar.]

'Ah… like sumo wrestling,' George thought, seeing the similarity. The heavier students dominated the first few sessions, as expected, but over time, as they practiced, the others learned techniques to control and manipulate their opponents' weight to their advantage.

As George read further, he discovered that many students began incorporating techniques from various martial arts—wrestling, grappling, and even elements of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. It reminded him of Royce Gracie, a BJJ master from Earth who had beaten martial artists much stronger and faster than him to become the first UFC champion.

George slapped his forehead in frustration. 'Dang it! Why didn't I practice any of those martial arts properly?'

He had joined his high school's wrestling team but had barely practiced. Now, that decision felt like a missed opportunity.

Determined to catch up, George stood and approached the librarian once more. "Do you have any books on wrestling?"

He doubted they'd have anything on Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, so he didn't even ask.

The librarian nodded, disappearing between the tall shelves, and returned with a small stack of books. "These are all we have on wrestling. But are you sure you want to study such a... low-level martial technique? We have mid-tier sword techniques and mid-tier hand-to-hand techniques that might suit you better."

George blinked, unsure if he'd heard her correctly. 'Wrestling? Low-level?'

While George wasn't a martial arts expert, he knew enough to understand that wrestling, along with similar martial disciplines, was the foundation of many other fighting styles. Countless world champions had honed their skills through wrestling and BJJ, dominating in combat sports across the globe.

"I'll take these," George said firmly, clutching the stack of books. "Thank you."