The group split without fuss, each heading off to gather the others. Kaito made his way straight to the main gate.
When he arrived, he spotted the convoy from the Glory officials—the team responsible for delivering in-game equipment. Ten high-energy transport trucks stood in line, each one loaded with ten bronze-grade gaming cabins.
The convoy had been halted by the estate guards for verification. As Kaito approached, one of the guards turned toward him."They're with me," Kaito said casually. "I ordered the equipment."
Recognizing him, the guards immediately stepped aside, allowing the trucks to pass.
Kaito climbed into the lead truck, giving the driver clear instructions to follow him to the indoor training gym of the ancestral estate.
The indoor training gym of the Ren family's ancestral estate was a perfect reflection of their priorities. Even though the family had always kept a low-key lifestyle, they had never been stingy when it came to investing in the future generations' martial training. Every coin that could be spared had gone into building and maintaining this facility.
The structure itself was a compact, dome-like building, its smooth exterior blending the estate's traditional architectural curves with subtle futuristic elements. It rose only three floors high, but every inch of it was optimized for training efficiency.
Inside, the gym was equipped with the latest martial training technology—strength-measuring platforms that displayed detailed readouts of a person's physical output, agility testing lanes lined with sensory detectors, and adjustable gravity zones for endurance training. Energy-absorbing sparring platforms were placed in open areas, while holographic combat simulators lined one side of the hall, able to generate realistic opponents for solo or group drills.
As Kaito approached with the installation team, the curved metal gates of the dome responded to his presence with a soft hiss, parting smoothly to reveal the gleaming interior. He led the convoy forward, already picturing where the cabins would be installed on the spacious first floor, replacing the section currently occupied by strength-testing equipment.
When Kaito stepped inside the gym, he already knew exactly where the cabins would go. The first floor was ideal—an expansive space covered in thick sparring mats, usually reserved for group training sessions. The area was large enough to accommodate over a thousand people practicing at the same time, so even with a hundred cabins installed, there would still be more than enough room left for his cousins to spar and train without restriction.
As he entered, he spotted all eighty-five of his cousins already gathered, their faces lit with excitement. There was no need for lengthy greetings; time was better spent getting things ready.
"Clear half the mats on the first floor," Kaito instructed. "We'll set up the cabins there."
A cheer went up from the group—they had already been filled in by Marcus and the others about the purpose of this gathering, and the sight of Kaito only fueled their enthusiasm.
Behind him, the lead installer approached, holding a sleek hover-tab. "Bronze Rank Cabins—100 units, delivered as ordered."
Kaito accepted the tab, signed his confirmation, and gave the man clear directions for installation. Then, without hesitation, he joined his cousins in hauling away the heavy mats, the thud of padding being rolled and stacked echoing through the dome as preparations began in earnest.
While the installation team used, Auto‑dollies which rolled out from the trucks—sleek platforms with gyroscopic stabilizers. Each one extended soft clamps, slid under a cabin crate, and lifted. The crates were matte black, low‑profile, with silver serials and biometric locks. They moved like a drill team. No wasted motion.
Crate lids hissed open one by one. Bronze cabins settled onto the floor like sleeping beasts—smooth shells, soft illumination around the edges, neural port manifolds gleaming under the lights. Installers snapped power couplers into the floor sockets, then slid fiber lines into the rear ports. Each connection pinged green on my overlay.
By the time the first two rows glowed steady, kaito and his cousins had already removed the mats from half of the area and put them to a side.
They then, spread out along the wall, quiet out of respect as the techs worked.
Row three locked. Row four. The hum of live systems built like a low tide. After the tenth row lit, Kaito then spoke to the lead tech.
"One more thing," Kaito said. "Tip for your team. One hundred credits per cabin."
He blinked again, harder this time. "Sir, that's—"
"Not a debate."
Kia handled the transfers. The team leads glanced at their wrist displays, then at Kaito. No speeches. Just a lot of relieved faces and a couple of quiet bows before they went back to tightening clamps and routing lines.
Five minutes later, the last cabin linked. One hundred bronze units, seated in perfect lines. The gym glowed like a grid of small suns.
After the last installation Kaito then sent the team to the gym gate where a family was already there to lead them back to the main gate.
Kaito then stepped forward facing his cousins.
"Alright," Kaito said, raising his voice. "This is simple. One cabin for each of you. You all can start playing from tomorrow."
There were nods all around. Hands still drifted over the edges—light touches, like they were making sure they were real.
Kaito then pointed at the open floor. "For Now, let me check your progress, Circle up."
Eighty‑five cousins formed a wide ring. Marcus stood at his right. Elias, Calvin, Lucas, Reina, Yuta, Sora, Taro, Henry… too many names to list, but he remembered more than he thought he would. The younger ones clustered toward the back, wide‑eyed. The older ones—closer to his age—stood with their shoulders squared, trying and failing to hide their excitement.
"Okay so we'll start with five at a time," I said. "Bare hands. Don't try to look impressive. Give me your honest best."
Kaito then pointed to the first five. "You're up."
They stepped in. Kaito didn't go flashy. No feints to show off. Kaito just tested.
First came a rush—straight line, chin high. Kaito slipped to the outside, tapped his ribs twice, and set him off line with a palm at the shoulder. Second tried to circle and jab. His guard was wide, elbows floating. kaito bumped his forearms inward and boot‑tapped his shin to make the point. Third used power. Too much, too early. kaito let him push past and caught his balance on the recoil. Fourth overcommitted on a hook; kaito smothered it with a forearm shield and touched his collarbone. Fifth froze when the space closed; kaito moved through his hesitation and set him on his heels with a shoulder check. No one fell. No one got hurt. But the message was clear.
"Next five."
They moved fast. Every group got a different kind of pressure. Wide stances. Narrow stances. High guard. No guard. Failed pivots. Hands dropping after punches. Breath held at impact. Kaito didn't lecture. Just a short fix, then the next group. The rhythm settled.
"Don't wind up," Kaito then said to one of his cousins. "You're broadcasting your intent. Keep your hands where you launch from."
"Your feet," Kaito to another. "You stop after every exchange. Don't plant. Replace."
"Eyes," to a third. "You're watching your hands. Watch my chest. It lies less."
By the fifth round of five, sweat was on foreheads. Jokes stopped. People paid attention. The ring felt like training should feel—serious but not heavy.
"Next five," kaito called.
they went until the last group stepped out. Kaito shook his hands loose and looked around the circle.
"Good. Now reset."
Marcus rolled his neck and stepped forward on his own. "My turn," he said, half‑grin still there.
Kaito nodded and raised his hands. "Three rounds to start. If you want a fourth, we do a fourth."
"Deal."
Round one. He came clean—good stance, better than the rest. Natural weight shift, elbows tight, chin tucked. They touched hands, and Marcus tested with a long jab, then a low level change like he was teasing a shot. kaito gave him the look and didn't bite. He feinted again, then actually stepped in. Kaito parried and answered with a short cross that stopped just before his cheek. He smiled and backed out. He'd expected something fancy. but Kaito gave him simple.
Round two. He upped the tempo. A jab‑cross‑hook, all crisp. He tried to angle off Kaito's front foot. kaito cut his angle with a small step and posted a palm at his sternum. He ate the stop, reset, then fired a jab to the body. kaito checked it with the elbow and slid a finger‑tap to his forehead where a real punch would have landed. He nodded, got it, circled left.
Round three. marcus tried to bait kaito. He showed a lazy jab, dropped it on purpose, waited for kaito to chase. kaito didn't. When he stepped, kaito met him halfway and put a light touch on his hip to break his base, then followed with a clean right that stopped inches from his temple. His balance went. He threw a last‑second shoulder shove to test if kaito had overextend. kaito didn't. kaito just stepped out and lifted his hands, ending the exchange.
Marcus then blew out a breath, hands on his hips. "One more," he said.
"Four it is."
They touched knuckles and went again. He tried a shift to southpaw mid‑entry. Not bad. But his rear foot dragged a hair. kaito used that half‑beat, stepped inside the line, and tapped his ribs with a triple—short, shorter, shortest—then pushed his shoulder to send him past me, light but final. His heel skated. He caught himself, then laughed.
"Okay, okay," he said, raising both hands. "You got it."
They bumped fists and Marcus stepped back into the ring, breathing hard but happy.