Real Steel and Drug Abuse

'Feels like I'm forgetting something, where was I again? Oh! Right. What I did the rest of the week…'

During class, Mark would occasionally chat with Ranni, Everett, and the other main cast members. But the main cast remained solely classmate acquaintances.

After class, Mark would spend the rest of the day training. He was already somewhat gym savvy in his previous life, but his desire to catch up to William ran hot.

With his Strength effectively bottlenecked—along with his incredibly vulnerable physique—Mark extensively trained Vigor, with Insight and Dexterity on the side.

Thankfully he was in the best Academy in the world. They came prepared with the proper equipment.

Inside the training facility was a magic robot. Why wouldn't there be?

Not only could he train Vigor by having the robot beat the crap out of him with boxing gloves, but he could also train Insight by attempting to read the robot's moves—though this wasn't the most efficient way to train Insight.

Yes, this hurt like hell. But with potions, his fear of pain and injury slowly began to dull.

One day, Mark had taken a clean shot to the abdomen and ruptured his liver. Excruciatingly painful—an injury that would have him out for 2-6 months on Earth.

Potions were like a magic cure-all. Totally busted. Extremely expensive, but busted. In just a few hours after downing a couple, Mark was good to go.

And fortunately for Mark, his pre-paid tuition covered those medical expenses. So Mark abused the hell out of potions.

'Can you even get addicted to potions…?'

Considering how much his brain enjoyed the thought of a potion, he thought it would be best to exercise caution.

However, that didn't stop him from using loads of potions to continue his intense training.

Mark was eventually forced to stop on Friday after the nurse refused to grant him any more free potions.

When Mark rebelled, she cited some bullshit school policy that set a maximum on the number of potions a student could take in a year without extra charge.

'A year's worth already? Cheap fucking bastards. What kind of prestigious institution is this?'

After running out of potions, Mark poured the last of his hours into sprints.

Zac had shown him the power of Dexterity. And in all honesty, Mark was quite envious. Being faster than everyone else allowed one to make up for a long list of shortcomings.

After a long day, Mark had his shower and flung himself onto his bed, giving a mental drumroll for himself.

'I haven't done the thing in days…'

Drumrolling ensued.

'Status.'

┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐

Name: Mark di Abbott

Age: 18

Race: Human

Class: Shredder of Weave

Title: End's Apostle

[Level: 18] Acolyte

◄ Strength: 6 - ◆─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►

◄ Vigor: 3 - ◆─◆─◇─◇─◇ ► +13

◄ Insight: 2 - ◆─◆─◇─◇─◇ ►+5

◄ Dexterity: 3 - ◆─◆─◆─◇─◇ ► +8

◄ Intelligence: 0 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►

◄ Arcane: 0 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►

◄ Faith: 0 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►

◄ Charisma: 3 - ◆─◆─◆─◇─◇ ►+2

◄ Luck: 1 - ◇─◇─◇─◇─◇ ►+1

➥Unallocated Shards: 30

◃───***Skills***───▹

Skill: Hidden Hand → Grade: F

◃───***Arts***───▹

✩ Academy Longsword: Defensive Style → Mastery: Beginner (5/100)

◃───***Affinities***───▹

◃───***Items***───▹

└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘

'That dopamine rush hits like crack…'

Seeing numbers go up like that always brought a tear to his eye. All his efforts were worth it in the end.

Mark hadn't trained his Art at all since the spar. He needed to be strong in the short term—training the Art was more akin to a long-term side project.

'Guess I'm not pushing my mind hard enough to get anything for Intelligence…'

The first reaction of someone coping. He could never exercise the possibility that he was a functioning idiot. That wasn't true. Or was it? He didn't think about it, so who knows?

'Zero means a normal human, not an idiot. I'm just so intelligent that the System can't improve me anymore.'

Jokes aside, Mark was slightly nervous. One of the biggest days of his life was coming up: the first day at his new corporate monopoly.

'Honestly, I don't even know what my job is or will be. Am I gonna do paperwork or something? I was kind of hoping to just go out and farm beasts and get money for it…'

But that was for tomorrow. Now it was time for bed.

***

┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐

Destination Confirmed

► Ember City

Please step forward.

└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘

With nothing but a pouch of blood money, Mark stepped through the Kolzig-Bondra Kriophorus.

In the early morning air, Mark entered Ember City simultaneously with half a dozen people or wagons carrying goods.

Ember City was a picturesque Mediterranean Renaissance mega-city.

The climate was temperate with a cool breeze—the brick, stone, and marble that comprised buildings and roads were warm in color. A mystical combination of Italian and French architectural influences.

The capital's Kriophorus was massive. Much more than Kolzig-Bondra's. It dropped all newcomers straight into the heart of Humanity.

Everything was grand in scale and designed with intention. The wide avenue built around the portal utilized circles and branching side streets to avoid congestion.

Meanwhile, pedestrians like Mark were given convenient stone walking paths to avoid the massive amount of wagons coming in and out.

But Ember City was massive. Massive. It was Humanity's capital and their largest city by population at 30 million, with Strata—the second largest city—being only half that.

That might seem low for the capital of an entire race, but 30 million in a total Human population of 300 million was a huge percentage.

While Humanity had tons of resources from the Demon Portals, those War relics still claimed an extremely valuable resource: land.

Human cities were all fortified with gigantic—and extremely durable—walls. These walls had no direct entrance or exit.

Reclaiming land from the Wilds was an excruciatingly difficult process. Humanity would first have to entirely secure their perimeter from hordes of monsters. From there, they would have to defend their builders for years as they arduously constructed the impenetrable walls.

In short, despite having infinite supplies and materials from the Portal's beasts, there still wasn't enough to make reclaiming the wilds worth it.

Cities shifted more towards increasing the density of their pre-existing cities rather than expansion. Buildings grew taller rather than wider.

Over the past 725 years, where massive noble manors once littered the city, were now scrapped during Humanity's reformation.

While the center of Ember City was classical and historical, past that, the skyline was covered in tall glass skyscrapers within pockets of large commercial hubs.

Nobles no longer loomed over from mansions but massive Guild towers.

This contrasted with the outskirts near the walls which touted thick, high-density residential apartments for commoners.

In short, Ember City was the most messed up amalgam of the 21st and 16th centuries, which was nearly unfathomable for Mark had he not been looking at it with his own eyes.

'Hardly any respect for historical preservation or basic architectural aesthetics.'

Earthern technology had been cheaply replicated with Kaedom's magic. While the two worlds were similar, the processes they took to their peak technological innovations were different.

For instance, the wagons and carriages. In a seemingly modern world, these were the preferred methods of transportation.

Kaedom had no reason to make cars—they had instant, long-range teleportation. The aristocracy still loved the good old-fashioned horse-pulled carriages.

Even with all this technology and desire for expansion, the nobility still gave two shits about the common people.

Considering this looked like the nicest version of New York City, it made the realization about Straw Ridge even more grim. They were quite literally a single instant teleportation portal away, yet wallowed in immense poverty.

It was as if Mark never left Earth.