Luka stood in the middle of an abandoned lot, the cracked pavement beneath him littered with rusted debris. Sun paced in front of him, hands casually tucked into his coat pockets. The air smelled of damp metal and oil, the remnants of an old industrial zone long forgotten by the city above.


    “You want to move faster?” Sun said, tilting his head. “Then we’re going to start with understanding movement itself.”


    Luka frowned. “Movement?”


    Sun sighed and knelt, picking up a small rock from the ground. He tossed it in his palm before flicking it into the air.


    “What makes something move?” Sun asked.


    Luka blinked. “Force?”


    “Exactly,” Sun said, catching the rock mid-air. “Normal Jōki users enhance their muscles, making them stronger and faster. But we? We erase. Our power doesn’t push forward—it pulls in.”


    Luka’s brows furrowed. “Then how do we use that to move faster?”


    Sun smirked. “By making ourselves lighter.”


    Luka tilted his head, confused.


    Sun flicked his wrist, and a tendril of dark energy wrapped around the rock in his palm. The rock vanished in an instant.


    “Our power erases weight,” Sun continued. “For a brief moment, we can erase our own mass. That means less resistance. Less drag. Faster movement.”


    Luka’s eyes widened. “So… if I erase my own weight, I can move faster?”


    “Bingo.” Sun pointed at him. “But if you erase too much, your body won’t have enough mass to stay anchored. You’ll move like you’re floating—uncontrolled and reckless.”


    Luka gulped. “So how do I control it?”


    Sun’s smirk widened. “Simple. You practice.”


    He gestured toward a set of six-foot-tall metal barrels lined up in the lot.


    “Your goal,” Sun said, “is to erase just enough weight to get over those barrels.”


    Luka’s eyes darted toward them. They were taller than him by at least two feet.


    “Jump?” Luka asked hesitantly.


    “Jump,” Sun confirmed. “If you do it right, you’ll clear them. If you do it wrong—” He knocked on the metal barrel with his knuckles. “Well, let’s just say it’ll hurt.”


    Luka took a deep breath, stepping back.


    Erase weight… but not too much.


    He focused, feeling the strange void-like energy inside him. He pushed it toward his legs, imagining himself becoming lighter.


    Then—he jumped.


    For a split second, he felt weightless. The ground seemed to disappear beneath him.


    He soared—


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    —too high.


    “Whoa—!” Luka flailed mid-air, arms swinging wildly.


    He overshot the jump, his body weight completely gone. Instead of landing smoothly—


    CRASH.


    He slammed into the ground face-first.


    Sun whistled. “Oof. That looked painful.”


    Luka groaned, pushing himself up. His body already started healing, but the impact still hurt.


    He gritted his teeth. “Again.”


    Sun chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”


    Luka took another breath, trying to adjust the amount of weight he erased. This time, he jumped lower—but still overshot, landing off-balance and tumbling into the barrels.


    CLANG!


    He gritted his teeth as pain shot through his side.


    Sun clapped his hands. “Two fails. Want to go for three?”


    Luka scowled but nodded. He wiped the dirt off his cheek and got back into position.


    Again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Each time, he miscalculated. Too much, and he lost control. Too little, and he barely lifted off the ground.


    Sun sat on a nearby crate, watching him struggle. “The key is balance,” he said. “You need to erase just enough—not too much, not too little. Find the middle ground.”


    Luka panted, his legs aching. “That’s easy for you to say.”


    Sun laughed. “Oh, trust me. I ate concrete more times than I can count when I first learned this.”


    Luka blinked. “Wait, you failed too?”


    Sun leaned back, arms behind his head. “Of course. You think I just woke up one day and mastered it?”


    Luka frowned, staring at the barrels again. If Sun had struggled too… then that meant Luka just had to keep going.


    He took a deep breath.


    Focused.


    And jumped.


    This time—


    He landed perfectly on the other side.


    Luka gasped.


    Sun clapped. “Not bad, kid. Took you twenty tries, but hey—who’s counting?”


    Luka stood in the empty lot, his breath still uneven from the repeated jumps. His body ached, but there was something thrilling about it. For the first time, he felt like he was making progress.


    Sun, still lounging on the crate, stretched his arms. “Alright, kid. Now that you get the basics of lightening yourself, it’s time for the next step.”


    Luka wiped sweat from his forehead. “There’s more?”


    Sun chuckled. “Of course. If you want to be fast, jumping over barrels isn’t enough. You need to learn momentum.”


    Luka tilted his head. “Momentum?”


    Sun pointed to the far end of the lot, where a wall of stacked wooden crates stood. “See those? Your next goal is to break them.”


    Luka blinked. “Break them? But I don’t have strength enhancement like other Jōki users.”


    Sun smirked beneath his mask. “Exactly. You don’t have strength, but you have speed. And speed, my dear apprentice, equals power.”


    He tapped his foot against the ground. “A normal punch won’t break through solid wood, right?”


    Luka nodded.


    “But…” Sun continued, “if you take that same punch and add momentum—”


    BOOM.


    Before Luka could blink, Sun had vanished.


    A split second later, the crates exploded into splinters, Sun standing on the other side with his fist buried in the remains.


    Luka’s mouth fell open.


    Sun turned, dusting off his knuckles. “See? Speed multiplies force. You don’t need brute strength when you can move faster than your enemy can react.”


    Luka clenched his fists. “I want to do that.”


    Sun laughed. “Oh, you will. But first, you need to learn how to stop falling on your face.”


    Luka huffed. “I barely fell that much.”


    Sun tilted his head. “Didn’t you just eat dirt, like, ten times?”


    Luka scowled.


    Sun smirked. “Relax, kid. You’re ten. You think speed is just about running fast, but it’s more than that. It’s about control. If you can’t control your acceleration, you’ll crash into walls like a headless chicken.”


    Luka frowned. “So how do I learn control?”


    Sun tapped his chin in thought. Then, he snapped his fingers. “I got it. We’ll use that.”


    Luka followed his gaze to an old, rusted bridge nearby. The surface was uneven, some parts broken, leaving only narrow beams to step on.


    His stomach dropped. “You want me to run on that?”


    Sun nodded. “If you fall, you’ll land in the sewer.”


    Luka grimaced. “Great.”


    Sun crossed his arms. “If you can sprint across without tripping or losing balance, then I’ll show you how to break things like I did. Deal?”


    Luka exhaled. “Deal.”


    Luka stood at the edge of the bridge, his heart pounding. He erased his weight, just enough to feel lighter.


    Then, he ran.


    The first few steps were easy.


    But then—


    His foot hit a loose plank.


    CRACK.


    Luka’s balance wobbled. His arms flailed.


    SPLASH.


    He fell straight into the sewer water.


    Sun burst out laughing. “Hah! That was even faster than I expected!”


    Luka surfaced, soaked and furious. “You knew that plank was loose, didn’t you?!”


    Sun wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh, absolutely.”


    Luka grumbled and climbed back up.


    Second Attempt.


    He focused harder this time. Erase weight. Run light.


    He dashed forward, his speed increasing—


    But he overcompensated.


    His body felt too light, like running on air.


    His foot missed the next beam—


    THUD.


    Luka faceplanted into the bridge.


    Sun winced. “Oof. That looked painful.”


    Luka groaned, pushing himself up. “Again.”


    Third Attempt.


    This time, he tried to feel everything—the uneven surface, the shifts in weight.


    He ran.


    He almost made it—


    But at the very end, he tripped on his own feet.


    CRASH.


    Luka skidded across the ground, dirt scraping against his arms.


    Sun whistled. “You’re improving. That time you only ate half the ground.”


    Luka lay there, breathing hard.


    Sun crouched next to him. “Listen, kid. Speed is not just moving fast. It’s about timing and rhythm. You have to match your acceleration to your control.”


    Luka exhaled. “How do I do that?”


    Sun stood up and cracked his knuckles. “Simple. Feel the motion, don’t force it. Now get up. You’re doing it again.”


    Luka groaned but pushed himself back to his feet.


    And so—he ran.


    Again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Each time, he adjusted.


    Each time, he improved.


    By the twentieth attempt, he finally sprinted across the bridge without falling.


    Luka gasped, his chest rising and falling. He turned to Sun, eyes wide.


    “I did it!”


    Sun smirked. “Good. Now…”


    He pointed to another set of crates.


    “Break those.”


    Luka gulped. Here we go again.