Chapter 4

Free found himself thrown into a grueling trial – a consecutive series of 20 battles. Despite his exceptional instincts, he realized they weren't enough against the cruel power wielded by his adversaries. Faces of those who had bested him were etched into his mind, marking them as looming threats to his future survival.

The battles were intense and unforgiving, putting his body and mind to the ultimate test. He fought with all his might, unleashing a torrent of attacks and defenses, but he couldn't escape the grasp of defeat in a few encounters. Though disheartened, Free refused to let despair consume him. Instead, he saw each defeat as a chance to learn, to adapt, and to grow stronger.

Amidst the tough contests, Free's adaptability became apparent. His body's reflexes and his mind began to synchronize with the unpredictable instinctual movements demanded by the battles. He learned to anticipate his opponents' moves, to read their intentions through subtle cues, and to respond with lightning-quick precision.

As onlookers observed, suspicion arose when they noticed Free seemingly weaken during some bouts.

"Hey, isn't that Free? Why is he suddenly acting weak?" whispered a kid from the sidelines, prompting a swift punch to the head from his neighbor, causing him to yelp in surprise.

"You idiot! Can't you see it? He's intentionally lowering his prowess to savor the fight... Like the insane guy he is. It's like he's evolving right before our eyes."

The inquisitive kid rubbed his head and nodded in realization.

He was evolving at an astounding speed, almost inhumanly so. Utilizing Cursed Energy, his body and mind merged, propelling him towards the peak of his power. He felt a connection to the enigmatic force that granted him abilities beyond his wildest dreams.

An analogy struck him – it was like filling small holes in concrete using cement. Cursed Energy was accelerating his adaptation to his body's instincts, gradually transforming him into a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Exhausted and panting, Free leaned against the cold wall, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it down. The water felt refreshing, providing a brief respite from the grueling battles.

"Hah~"

Feeling his dry throat moisturize, he got up as a bell rang, signaling breakfast time. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, and Free's stomach growled in anticipation.

The instructor beside him announced the meal. Kirigakure ensured their future Warriors... or Warrior were well-fed to avoid weakness from malnutrition. The canteen was filled with the clinking of trays and the sound of laughter as the young competitors gathered to replenish their energy.

As he entered the canteen, Free stood in line, picking up his food – a loaf of bread and some curry. But, much to his chagrin, tearing the bread into pieces seemed an impossible task.

'What the hell are these made of, Titanium!?'

Resigned, he dipped the end of the bread into the curry, and it softened slightly. Eating in peace, his eyes scanned the room, where he noticed some kids from the second and third batches – they appeared tough and physically stronger than him.

A sigh escaped him.

'At least I have Cursed Energy to help me.'

Recalling his recent fights, Free realized that the technique he had received indeed bore some benefits. His control over Cursed Energy was rapidly strengthening, adapting at an impressive rate. He felt a deep connection to the energy coursing through him, almost like it was an extension of his own being.

Though not as overpowered as he hoped, the newfound prowess was still commendable.

'What a useless System.' He couldn't help but complain. 'Only if it was like the ones I read about in Solo Leveling and other Novels... Hah.'

Comically crying, he wiped away his imaginary tears. The other kids glanced at him funny, finding it odd.

Finishing his meal, he placed the tray on the counter and left, ignoring the canteen mistress's outburst. As he picked up his combat Sword, he couldn't help but frown.

'Giving actual weapons to kids... What kind of dumbass does that.'

Walking through the corridor, Free pondered, his rational side chiming in.

'Well, I guess it wouldn't matter either way... They will eventually die, leaving only one victor. Training the future winner in advance might work out in their favor, like an investment.'

Stepping back into the vast hall, the other competitors followed, filling the room with lively chatter and activity.

Ding!

Another bell rang, making Free grunt.

With determination gleaming in his cerulean eyes, he entered a combat ring and brandished his sword, preparing for the next fight.

'Let's grind.'