Kaito then, turned and looked at everyone.
"Listen close," Kaito said. "This isn't a scolding. It's the starting map."
Kaito walked a slow circle as he talked, making eye contact.
"Most of you are doing the same three things wrong. One, you hold your breath when you throw. Don't. Exhale on impact. Short breath. It's a switch, not a scream."
"Two, you stop your feet after every exchange. You hit, then you freeze. Don't freeze. Land, recover, move. Replace the feet under the hips. Tiny steps. Don't jump."
"Three, you look at hands. Hands lie. Watch center mass. Read the shoulder line, the hip, the weight."
Kaito then pointed to one of his cousin. "Your guard floats. Keep your elbows at the ribs. Not glued, not wide. Let them breathe, but don't let them wander."
then at someone who had loaded up earlier. "You're winding before every shot. It's loud. Cut the wind‑up. Punch from where your hands live."
at another. "Your stance is too wide. Looks strong. Isn't. Bring it in three centimeters. You'll be faster without losing power."
at a third. "You lean when you reach. Don't lean. Move your feet. Reaching gets you countered."
Kaito then pointed down at his own feet. "Most of you are flat. That's dead weight. Stay live on the balls, heels kissing the ground, not sleeping on it."
Kaito let that settle, then clapped once.
"Now what we do about it."
Kaito then turned on Kia connecting his HoloTab to the Gym's central system. "Open drill set for Genesis beginners on the wall. Thirty stations. Two people per station. Cycle in three waves."
Panels slid out from the wall, lighting up with simple prompts and ghost lines. The floor under each station projected a faint grid for footwork. A metronome pulse pulsed in the room, soft but there.
"Wave one," Kaito said, pointing. "You're on guard recovery. Ten reps of jab‑cross, recoil to home each time. No reaching. No dropping. Short exhale on each strike."
"Wave two, centerline. Feed hand taps at chest height. Don't chase. Don't slap. Ride and return."
"Wave three, footwork only. Replace steps around the square. No crossing. Hips square. Eyes forward."
Kaito then checked the time. "We do ten minutes per wave, then rotate."
Marcus grinned. "Who made you coach?"
"I did," he said.
He snorted. "Fair."
"Good. Wave one—go."
The room shifted from talk to movement. Hands lifted. Feet set. Breath timed itself to the metronome. The reaction panels glowed with clean prompts. Kaito walked through the rows, fixing a wrist here, a stance there, tapping a shoulder to remind someone not to creep up into their neck.
Between stations, Kaito caught small moments. Yuta bumping Reina's glove to hype her up. Lucas scrunching his nose when he nailed a recoil. Calvin, quiet as ever, using tiny steps like he'd been born with them. Elias stealing a look my way when he corrected her guard on his own, then pretending he hadn't. They'd all get there.
Kaito then, checked the timer. Two minutes left in the first wave. Sweat was showing. Shoulders were dropping into better angles. The room felt alive in the right way.
Marcus caught my eye and rolled his wrist like, hurry the hell up, coach. I lifted a hand—ten fingers, then a closed fist. He nodded and raised his voice with mine.
"Rotate!"
Waves switched. The metronome clicked. The grid underfoot glowed a touch brighter to remind them where to place. The reaction panels threw different prompts now—centerline angles, light parries, recovery snaps.
This was the start.
It had been a long time since Kaito had personally trained anyone. In his previous life, he had guided the members of Genesis Studio in much the same way, drawing on the lessons drilled into him by his third uncle. He knew the common mistakes novices made—the small flaws in stance, the wasted motion in strikes, the lapses in focus that could cost a battle. Now, with the knowledge and perspective gained from two lifetimes, he could spot and correct those errors even more quickly.
As he looked over his gathered cousins, that old sense of purpose stirred within him. The air was filled with youthful energy, eager voices, and the muffled thumps of mats being shifted aside. For the first time in years, he felt the same spark he'd had back then—when training wasn't just instruction, but a shared challenge, a way to forge bonds as much as skill.
"Keep it steady," Kaito said, walking the line. "Breathe. Reset. Don't chase."
They had time. Not much, but enough—if they treated it like this: simple, focused, and together.
....
The rhythmic sound of fists meeting training pads and the thuds of sparring feet on the mat slowly gave way to laughter and tired sighs. The cousins had been at it for hours, rotating through matches in groups under Kaito's supervision. A few were still eager to go another round of sparring with Kaito after this hellish training, but Kaito raised a hand, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"That's enough for today," he said. "It's already dinner time. We can pick this up tomorrow."
A ripple of groans and chuckles passed through the group. He then, motioned for everyone to head out.
This whole week before the ancestral worship, we all dine together, Kaito thought as they began gathering their things. "let's go to the main family villa."
The cousins nodded, still buzzing from the training session, and followed him out. The crisp evening air greeted them as they made their way along the stone-paved path toward the heart of the estate. The towering silhouette of the main villa loomed ahead, its ancient architecture outlined in warm golden lights, while subtle strips of embedded illumination along the ground added a faint futuristic glow. The smell of food drifted out to meet them even before they reached the broad entrance.
Inside, the long dining tables were already set. Platters of steaming dishes—traditional roasted meats, fragrant rice, and delicate vegetables—were arrayed beside sleek serving trays with more modern cuisine, the mix a reflection of the estate's balance between old tradition and new conveniences.
Kaito's gaze swept the hall, spotting his parents and grandparents already seated near the elders' table. Further down, several of his younger cousins were clustered together, chatting animatedly.
Before he could take a step toward his seat, a small voice rang out.
"Brother!"
It was Aika. She darted through the crowd, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The moment she reached him, she grabbed his arm, her eyes bright.
"Where were you? You were playing alone again, weren't you? You didn't take me! We were in Glory and—guess what—we all reached Level 15! You said you'd take us to the Level 15 dungeon!"
Kaito chuckled and flicked her forehead gently. "Patience, Aika. Tomorrow, I'll take you and everyone else there."
Her pout immediately shifted to a grin, and she bounded back to her seat, satisfied with the promise. Kaito shook his head with an amused smile before moving toward the elders' table.
His grandparents were in the middle of a quiet conversation with two of his granduncles when he approached. Several heads turned his way, and one of his uncles—broad-shouldered with a weathered face—set down his chopsticks.
"Kaito," the man began, his tone half-scolding, half-curious, "I heard about that… commotion earlier today. And now I'm told you've gone and spent a fortune on those brats." His gaze shifted toward the table where the younger cousins were laughing together. "Why throw so much money their way?"
Kaito met his uncle's look calmly. "It's alright, Uncle. I planned for this. I want them in the game to help me. I've already started a studio, and I need reliable people I can trust. That's why I asked them to play."
The uncle grunted, clearly weighing the answer, then gave a slow nod. "If it's for your work, fine. But make sure they don't spend all day in there. They still need to focus on their real training."
"I understand," Kaito replied, then turned to one of his granduncles. "eldest Grandpa… actually, I believe this game can help us with our training as well."
That drew several pairs of eyes toward him. His parents and grandparents, already aware of the connection, remained unfazed. But the rest of the table wore expressions ranging from mild surprise to outright curiosity.
"How so?" his eldest grandfather asked.
Kaito leaned in slightly. "The reason I reached Rank 1 so quickly is because Glory provides complete, one-hundred-percent realism. The battles—whether against people or monsters—feel entirely real. You all know that someone who stays shut in a room practicing the same moves every day will progress slower than someone who constantly tests their skills in real combat. That's what the game lets me do. It gave me countless opportunities to fight, adapt, and improve. That's why I was able to hit Rank 1 in just two weeks."