A week had passed since his training began.


    And Luka still hadn’t won. Not even once.


    His body ached from the constant beatings, his arms felt like lead, and his reflexes were nowhere near fast enough to land a single hit on Sun. Every day, he was thrown to the ground, knocked off balance, or overpowered before he could react. His master barely seemed to be trying—just dodging, countering, and smirking beneath that damn mask like he was enjoying himself.


    Luka panted, sweat dripping down his face. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he land a hit?


    Sun, as usual, looked completely unbothered. “Still standing, huh?” He tilted his head. “Not bad, but you’re going to have to do better than that.”


    Luka wiped his face with his sleeve and forced himself to stand straighter.


    Then, to his surprise, Sun suddenly walked over to a nearby weapon rack and picked up a sheathed katana.


    “Here,” Sun said, tossing it toward Luka.


    Luka barely caught it, stumbling a bit under the unexpected weight. The scabbard was black, sleek, and polished like obsidian. The handle felt solid in his hands, heavier than he expected.


    His breath caught in his throat. A sword? For me?


    He looked up at Sun, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re… giving me this?”


    Sun folded his arms, amused. “From now on, this is your weapon.”


    Luka’s fingers tightened around the hilt, his pulse quickening. He never expected his master to buy him a sword, let alone one this perfect. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched it, hugging the blade against his chest.


    Then, realization hit.


    “But Master…” Luka hesitated, his excitement faltering. “Won’t I erase it?”


    Sun chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you won’t. That’s what this next training is for.” He turned, grabbing a handful of small ceramic cups from a nearby shelf and placing them neatly on the table in front of Luka.


    Luka eyed them warily. “What are we doing with cups?”


    Sun smirked. “Your job is simple: touch these cups… and don’t make them disappear.”


    Luka stiffened. His throat felt dry. Control it? But how?


    “You have one week,” Sun continued. “If you fail, I’m taking that katana back.”


    Luka’s grip tightened instinctively around the sword. He liked this katana. He wanted to keep it.


    “Understood?”


    Luka nodded, determination lighting up his dark eyes.


    Sun ruffled Luka’s hair, pleased. “Good. Then get started.”


    And just like that, Sun left the room, leaving Luka alone with the challenge in front of him.


    Luka sat down, staring at the rows of cups on the table. He flexed his fingers.


    Okay… Just touch them. But don’t erase them.


    He reached out carefully, his hand hovering over the first cup. Slowly, he lowered his fingers until they barely brushed the surface—


    The cup vanished.


    Luka cursed under his breath.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He tried again.


    Another cup disappeared.


    Again.


    Another one gone.


    Again.


    The entire row—erased.


    Luka’s frustration grew with every failure. He clenched his fists, staring at the empty space where the cups had been.


    How do I stop it?


    His Jōki worked differently from others. Instead of releasing power, he absorbed it—erased it. That meant his energy was always active, always devouring.


    But he had to stop it.


    His fingers twitched. He had to.


    He tried again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Each time, the cup disappeared.


    “Will I Ever Get It?”


    Luka exhaled sharply, frustration boiling inside him. “Will I even be able to do this?” he muttered to himself. His arms ached from keeping them so stiff, his eyes burned from the intense focus.


    Still, he continued.


    He had to.


    His fingers hovered over the last remaining cup. His breathing slowed. His heart pounded.


    Slowly—carefully—he lowered his hand.


    It was almost touching—


    Pong!


    A small rock almost hit him square in the forehead.


    He dodge.


    Luka yelped, recoiling.


    “What the—?!”


    He turned to see Sun standing at the doorway, tossing another rock up and down in his palm, his mask hiding any expression.


    “Oh, Master,” Luka grumbled, rubbing his forehead.


    Sun grinned. “Fufufu. I see the training’s going well. You’re so focused you dodged my first rock without even realizing it.”


    Luka blinked.


    He had?


    He didn’t even remember moving.


    Before he could process it, Sun stepped closer, glancing at the table of erased cups. “Not bad, kid. You’re getting there.”


    Luka clenched his jaw. “But I still can’t control it.”


    Sun chuckled, patting his head. “It’s okay if you don’t get it today. That’s what training is for.”


    Luka frowned. “But I don’t want to fail.”


    Sun hummed in thought before suddenly doubling the number of cups on the table. He stacked them higher, spreading them out across the surface.


    Luka’s stomach dropped.


    “Then keep going,” Sun said, walking toward his own bed. “I expect to see some progress tomorrow.”


    With that, he left Luka alone.


    The hours dragged on.


    The dim light in the room flickered as Luka continued his training. His fingers trembled slightly as he hovered over another cup.


    He had to do it.


    He couldn’t erase them all.


    He focused harder.


    Tried again.


    Failed.


    Tried again.


    Failed.


    The frustration burned inside him, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.


    And as the night stretched on, Luka sat there—his hands shaking, his mind racing—determined to win against himself.


    ******


    The next morning


    Luka jolted awake at the sudden tap! on his hand. His small fingers instinctively shot up, grabbing onto the wrist of whoever had touched him.


    A low chuckle followed.


    “Good reflexes,” Sun mused.


    Luka blinked drowsily, rubbing his eyes with his free hand before realizing what had happened. He was still seated at the table, his head resting on his arm, surrounded by nothing but erased space where the cups had once been.


    He had failed.


    Again.


    Sun pulled his wrist free and tilted his head slightly, as if he could see Luka’s thoughts forming. “Not bad, kid. You’re improving.”


    Luka scowled. “I erased everything.”


    “Exactly,” Sun said, ruffling Luka’s already messy hair. “You erased everything… instead of just one at a time. That means your control still needs work, but hey, at least you’re consistent.”


    Luka sighed. His fingers curled into fists, frustration gnawing at him.


    Sun clapped his hands together. “Alright, enough sulking. Wash up. We’ve got a mission.”


    Luka frowned. “A mission?”


    “Yep.”


    “But… Master, I’m not ready yet. I still can’t control my Jōki. What if I erase my katana?”


    Sun tilted his head, smirking beneath the mask. “Then I’ll buy you another one.”


    Luka’s mouth opened, then closed. That wasn’t the point.


    “We don’t have time, kid. We need to make money.” Sun stretched and leaned back against the wall. “Now hurry up.”


    Luka sighed again but didn’t argue. He trudged to the small bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to wake himself up. His body was still stiff from last night’s training, but he pushed the exhaustion aside.


    A mission.


    This would be his first real test.


    *******


    The Undermaze was always busy, no matter the time of day.


    Luka and Sun moved through the narrow streets, weaving through the chaotic mess of flickering neon lights, black-market traders, and shady figures lurking in the shadows. The air smelled like oil, metal, and something rotten. Luka saw a man with mechanical arms haggling over a shipment of stolen tech, a group of smugglers dealing weapons in a dark alley, and a woman selling counterfeit enhancers that promised to “awaken” latent abilities.


    This place was alive, but in the worst way.


    As they walked, Luka glanced up at his master. “What’s the mission?”


    “Simple,” Sun said, keeping his stride casual. “We’re going to kill Onix.”


    Luka froze. His blood turned cold.


    Sun kept walking, unfazed.


    Luka hurried to catch up, his hands gripping his new katana tightly. “Kill them?” he asked, voice quieter.


    “Yep,” Sun confirmed. “It’s time you get over that fear.”


    Luka swallowed hard. “But—what if I can’t? What if I mess up?”


    Sun finally turned his head to glance at Luka. “Then you erase them.”


    Luka didn’t answer. His hands felt sweaty. His chest tightened.


    “Besides,” Sun added, “I’m with you. Nothing’s gonna happen.” Then, with a small smirk, he leaned down slightly. “Unless… you don’t want to see Sasha again?”


    Luka stopped.


    His breath caught in his throat.


    His sister.


    He clenched his fists. No. He couldn’t be weak.


    He nodded. “Okay… I understand.”


    Sun grinned. “Good.”


    As they continued, Luka noticed the streets growing less crowded. The neon signs became fewer, the air colder. This part of The Undermaze wasn’t as lively—it was quiet. Too quiet.


    The black market district loomed ahead.


    Luka tensed. “Are we going back to the black market?”


    “Yes,” Sun said. “The mission is in District 4. It’s a dead zone now—Onix wiped out the entire area. The few people who lived there are gone, and the ones who tried to fight back got torn apart.”


    Luka hesitated. He had so many questions.


    Like—Where do Onix even come from?


    Before he could ask, Sun spoke again, voice colder than usual.


    “Onix and the rest of the Xeno species aren’t from this world. They’re aliens—invaders. They came to this planet and decided humans were nothing more than livestock.”


    Luka’s stomach churned.


    Sun’s voice darkened. “The Onix are nothing more than dogs—mindless, multiplying, spreading like a disease. But other types?” He clenched his fists. “Other Xeno are smarter. Stronger. They experiment on humans. They destroy my world.”


    Luka flinched.


    The way Sun said that… the sheer hatred in his voice…


    Sun’s bloodlust felt suffocating.


    Luka gulped. “M-Master… when you said ‘your world’… what did you mean?”


    Sun paused mid-step.


    For a second, he didn’t answer. Then, his voice softened.


    “Nothing,” he muttered. “Forget it.”


    Luka wasn’t sure if he believed that.


    Ahead, the streets opened into a wide, ruined field. Buildings lay in ruins, their walls collapsed. Rubble and broken glass littered the ground, and deep claw marks tore through the pavement.


    And in the center of the destruction—


    Three Onix stalked the area, sniffing for their next meal.